Fic: Move For Me, I'll Move For You
Title: Move for Me, I'll Move for You
Author gameboycolor
Pairing: Klaine
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Underage drinking, mutual masturbation
Rating: R
Length: ~3100
Summary: A Warblers party leads to a few interesting texts.
A/N: want to thank all of my awesome beta readers. You guys are awesome. I can't remember the last time I wrote something more than 3k, so I hope you all enjoy it! The title is from Move for Me by Kaskade.
Kurt and Blaine are the first to leave the party. And despite all of the whispers, they head off to their separate dorm rooms.
Sure, there is a lingering kiss outside of Blaine’s door, one that tastes of vodka and punch. But it stops at a kiss. They smile and part ways for the evening.
It stops there.
-
Kurt lays in his bed, too aware of the fact that only a thin wall separates him from Blaine. His hand reaches out to touch the wall, and he wonders if Blaine’s own hand is on the other side.
But it’s not. He knows the layout of Blaine’s room well enough by now. The only thing on the other side of that wall is a desk. It’s nice, imagining Blaine being able to sense him, though.
Of course, this isn’t how the real world works. Especially not when you can just pick up a phone.
He sends off a quick text. You awake?
Kurt has tried to will himself to sleep. A second wind hit him during his nightly shower, and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about their goodnight kiss ever since. His mind keeps replaying the feeling of Blaine’s lips on his.
Hips apart.
Hands tightly balled up in blazers.
It had been bolder than any of their previous kisses. Maybe it was the drinking, maybe it was the tension. It was probably the result of being pressed so close together all night with nothing more to show for it. Not kissing, just dancing. They didn’t want to be that couple, especially at the first Warblers party since they started dating.
And besides that, they’re still making up the rules as they go along when it comes to physical contact. This is perhaps Kurt’s favorite part. They get to call the shots.
He loves what they have, he really does.
This hardly changes the fact that he’s here in his bed, craving more.
Blaine hasn’t responded. Maybe he’s already asleep. He had been swaying on his feet on the way back to the dorms. Kurt wouldn’t blame him for it. Most normal people are able to fall asleep after a night of drinking.
Luckily, Kurt doesn’t have to wonder much longer.
Yeah.
I can’t sleep. Kurt knows it sounds pathetic, but it’s true.
Have you tried making tea? I know that usually helps me.
Kurt glares at the wall. It’s not like Blaine can see him, but it still makes him feel better for some reason.
I don’t want tea.
He doesn’t wait for Blaine’s response before continuing.
I want you.
Next comes forty-seven seconds of sheer panic. Kurt has no idea where the line is, so how is he supposed to know when he’s crossed it? Everything is still so new between them. He doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
He really just should have taken Blaine’s advice about the tea. Ginger mint, maybe.
I need clarification before I can reply for the sake of not embarrassing myself.
You’re too coherent for how I left you tonight.
Thank you, autocorrect.
Kurt rolls onto his side, staring at his phone. His fingers hover over the keys. He could easily sidetrack the conversation at this point. Trade silly quips until they fall asleep texting. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s woken up with an iPhone-shaped dent on his cheek.
He doesn’t want to do that, though.
When you kissed me tonight, I didn’t want you to stop.
If I hadn’t stopped, what would you have wanted me to do?
The feeling in his belly is like a cauldron of butterflies, nerves, and arousal. He has Blaine’s permission to elaborate. It’s a powerful feeling.
I wish you invited me in, Blaine.
Kurt kicks off his comforter, suddenly feeling too hot. His skin feels like it’s stretched too tight. The poor air circulation in the dorms is hard to ignore. The fact that he's still clad in his party attire probably doesn't help, but he had been too lazy to undress.
His fingers are shaking as he types his next reply. I got hard when you bit my lip.
He cringes. Blaine must think he sounds ridiculous. He hides his head in the pillow, reluctant to look up, even when his phone goes off.
Are we doing this?
It’s the best cure I have for insomnia.
What, no warm milk? ;)
It’s hard for me to sleep sometimes, knowing you’re right next door.
For me, too.
I think about you coming over in the middle of the night. You’d have to be quiet, so we wouldn’t wake anyone--
He doesn’t even finish typing up his text before there is a knock at the door. His silly little fantasy dissolves instantly.
Who could it be at this hour? It’s as if someone knows he’s awkwardly trying to sext his boyfriend.
Kurt opens the door, unable to hide his surprise at Blaine’s presence.
He’s holding up his phone, looking every bit as flushed and rumpled as he was when Kurt left him at the door earlier in the evening. “I... really wanted to hear your voice.”
Kurt doesn’t drop his phone, which is good. It would be a waste. He isn’t due for an upgrade for another two months.
He does, however, pocket his phone and step aside to let Blaine in.
He hadn’t prepared for this possibility. He had figured that he would exchange a few bashful texts with Blaine, ones that he would turn red at the thought of come morning, and that would be that.
But Blaine is here, right in front of him.
“Y-you did?”
“Of course.” Blaine says as he takes a step closer. “All of this stuff sounds nice, but I didn’t want it to be over text. I like your voice. You have a nice voice.”
Kurt can’t stop staring at his punch tinted lips, and it isn’t long before he decides that he wants a taste. Words are too difficult, especially when he been relying on textual communication for this. He closes the space between them by capturing Blaine’s mouth with a kiss, hoping to distract him.
They stumble backwards towards Kurt’s bed, clumsy limbs and giggles keeping the process from being anything close to smooth. Kurt presses kiss after kiss to Blaine’s mouth, unable to help his smiles.
When Kurt presses Blaine back against the pile of blankets and pillows he calls a bed, he notes the mischievous glint in his eyes.
It’s not all that shocking when they’re clumsily trying to find all of the ways their lips fit together, that Blaine bites his lip.
True to his earlier words, Kurt gasps against Blaine’s mouth. His stomach swoops and his toes curl. It’s still just as hot as the memory he’s been replaying in his head, if not more so. He wants him to do it again, it feels good for reasons Kurt can’t even explain.
He tries to will Blaine to repeat the action, but it doesn’t work.
So he tells him to.
It’s much more effective than just hoping for it.
Kurt is high on his newfound power, and it’s hardly even a real power. It’s probably not even confidence. He simultaneously thanks and blames the alcohol in his system for the words that fall off his tongue next.
“I’ve always wanted to know what you look like,” he presses his lips to Blaine’s chin, his cheek, his jaw, “when you come.”
Blaine groans.
Kurt can feel him hard against his hip, so it’s difficult to feel embarrassed about his own state. “D’ya think... I mean, I know we haven’t yet.” He drags his lips along Blaine’s jaw. “But I want.”
Oh, does he want.
Unfortunately, the fact that he wants things doesn’t necessarily make him ready for them. He is quickly sobering up, and he is now realizing that what’s happening between him and Blaine is very real.
It’s weird, because it still feels a little like he passed out. Like this is all just a pleasant dream.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for you to touch me,” he admits. “But I really want to see you come.”
A dilemma. One that would have been easily solved if they had stuck to keeping things strictly over the phone.
“We could always...” Blaine chews on his bottom lip for a moment. “Uh, self-service?”
Kurt giggles.
His boyfriend is brilliant.
It’s not like this wouldn’t have happened anyway tonight, they’re just sharing a space to do it. They’re providing visual accompaniment. It’s kind of perfect.
“Let me in on the joke?” Blaine asks.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says dismissively. He hasn’t been dating Blaine long enough to share all of the ridiculous things that make him laugh. But he plans to date him for that long, if not longer.
“Isn’t the bed kind of small for this?” Blaine points out, and Kurt knows this already. He feels like he’s one growth spurt from his feet hanging off the end.
“I don’t mind being close,” he tells him sweetly.
Kurt reluctantly detaches himself from Blaine and rolls onto his back. As much as he would love to give in and rut up against Blaine until he comes, it’s not what they decided. This is why they talk things over beforehand.
The bedsprings let out a soft squeak with the shift, and Kurt closes his eyes tightly, as if it might lessen the noise. Once they’re side by side in Kurt’s bed, Blaine looks over at Kurt nervously. “We could always... go to bed. We don’t have to.”
“Do you not want to?” Kurt asks. If he’s this nervous, Blaine must be too.
“I really do,” he chuckles nervously. “But a boy needs some confirmation before he pulls his dick out.”
Kurt can’t help but laugh too. He had imagined that the first time there was some level of nudity in their relationship, it would be a little less...
Drunk?
Giggly?
On a cramped dorm bed?
He doesn’t wish he could change it, though. It’s already perfect. It’s them.
Kurt tugs his shirt off, careful not to elbow Blaine in the face while doing so. He has a feeling it would put a damper on things. When the garment is tossed carelessly to the floor, he raises a brow at Blaine.
Your move.
Blaine scrambles to pull off his own t-shirt, and his (it) soon joins Kurt’s on the floor.
His eyes rake down Blaine’s chest, and his pulse quickens. Blaine is gorgeous, from the soft looking trail of dark hair that disappears into the waistband of his jeans to his strong, compact looking shoulders. His nipples are cute. Kurt didn’t even know that nipples could be cute. It ends up being Blaine’s tummy that holds Kurt’s gaze the longest. He has this tiny bit of softness around his lower midsection that looks perfect for nuzzling.
Blaine’s abdomen tenses, and Kurt wonders if it’s from his gaze.
Kurt unbuttons his pants with shaking fingers. He’s mostly gone soft from nerves, but seeing Blaine tugging his own shirt off is nearly enough to rekindle the warmth in his belly.
“I like your nipples,” Kurt blurts out. They’re small and kind of perfect, not that he has much of a reference on these things. “I mean, ugh.” He closes his eyes. “No, I meant that. The nipples thing.”
“I like your everything,” Blaine replies, hardly phased by Kurt’s weird compliments.
-
Kurt lets out a soft sigh, because his boyfriend is stupidly romantic. Even in situations where romance might normally fall by the wayside.
Blaine’s breathing starts to quicken, and Kurt’s too nervous to look anywhere but his face. He can hear the sounds of fabric shifting, and he assumes Blaine is taking care of the remainder of his clothing.
Looking at Blaine’s face is easy. He’s had plenty of time to become comfortable with his soft smiles and the flutters his gaze often results in. He’s afraid that if he looks down, he’ll lose any nerve he has.
He doesn’t want to lose his nerve. He wants to know what Blaine looks like when he comes.
Kurt shoves his jeans down to his knees. He’s not interested in impersonating a gazelle, and it’s not like they’re going to be in the way. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for - this, whatever this is. When he focuses on Blaine again, he catches him licking his palm like some sort of overenthusiastic kitten.
“Um... I assumed you didn’t have any lube,” Blaine explains, looking a little embarrassed that Kurt caught him.
He’s wrong, but Kurt doesn’t feel like telling him that. Giving up the location of his more personal belongings would involve digging out a box that’s safely tucked under the bed. Kurt knows better than to keep these things in his nightstand.
“Sorry,” Kurt mumbles.
Blaine’s expression shifts shortly after his hand disappears from view. He sucks his bottom lip in and his eyes darken just a little. He’s trying to keep his eyes on Kurt, but he keeps looking away.
Like he’s shy or something.
Kurt gasps. He’s imagined what Blaine might look like in this situation, but the reality trumps any of his fantasies. He’s unrestrained, he’s gorgeous. There are less candles and roses. It’s kind of beautiful.
He doesn’t realize how hard is he for Blaine until it’s almost unbearable. Something about his sweetness and honesty in this moment is really doing things for Kurt. He doesn’t look like he’s trying to impress anyone, not even Kurt. Blaine is enjoying himself. It’s hot.
Kurt takes himself in his hand, wincing at the slight dryness. He’s about to suggest the box under his bed when Blaine carefully tugs his other wrist and brings his hand up to his mouth.
This time, Blaine looks like anything but an overenthusiastic kitten. He’s licking broad strokes over Kurt’s palm. His breath is damp and hot. Kurt thinks he’s going to die when Blaine’s tongue traces up his index finger, teasing the pad of it with the tip of his tongue shortly before taking the digit into his mouth.
Kurt’s eyes widen. It’s not hard to imagine Blaine’s lips somewhere else.
He feels like he should be saying something, showing Blaine how much he appreciates this. The problem is, he’s so used to muffling his moans into a pillow that he’s not even sure if they’re good moans. What if his moans are terrible? What if they’re the same moans he lets out over a particularly good slice of cheesecake?
Blaine releases Kurt’s finger with a faint pop and Kurt can’t help but let out a soft groan. It’s not a moan, but it’s definitely in the genre of sex sounds. He wants to bed to swallow him whole.
Thankfully, Blaine’s eyes widen. Hopefully, that means that he likes it.
Kurt can hear the slick sound of Blaine’s hand on his cock, and he has to grip himself tightly around the base just to keep from coming on the spot.
Should he be talking? He has no idea what to do. This all feels so complicated. How is he supposed to maneuver jerking off and saying the right thing? He can hardly do the latter on most days.
Kurt curls a slick hand around his cock and tries to focus on Blaine’s face again. The way his eyes scrunch up. The way he bites his lip. The flush of his cheeks. Kurt’s hand starts to move faster, thumbing over the head on the upstroke. “Blaine,” he gasps, not even feeling silly for letting it slip out.
It’s far from his usual conditions, the ones where he has the time to tease himself, and during the rare occasions he has time for it, work himself open with a finger or two.
But don’t get him wrong, Kurt isn’t complaining. He doesn’t need teasing. He has Blaine.
Blaine is like porn. (And by porn, Kurt means the good kind that he so rarely can find. The kind where both guys seem into it and no one has a distracting tattoo.)
“Kuh-urt,” Blaine chokes out, and Kurt can’t help but let out a soft - “fuck.” His name has never sounded like that before. Blaine says his name like a prayer. Like he’s something to be desired.
The room smells like sex and that should be the tackiest thing in the world, but for some reason, it isn’t.
Kurt leans forward to press his lips to Blaine’s slack mouth. They can’t do much besides pant a little against each others lips, but it still manages to make the list of his top five kisses of all time.
When Blaine comes, Kurt tries to hang on a little longer. He doesn’t want to miss this moment. The way Blaine’s entire face scrunches up and the little “uh, uh, uh” sounds he lets out. He wants to see it all.
(But there will be other times. Plenty of other times, if Kurt has any say in things.)
Blaine’s tipping point is the cause of his own.
He waits for stars or some other sort of white spots in his vision, but they never come. Instead, he comes all over his fist and looks over at his sleepy, sated boyfriend. He’s still coming down when Blaine gives him a lazy smile, the kind that reaches his eyes. Kurt feels like his heart is going to leap out of his chest.
“You’re better than stars.”
Blaine lets out a questioning noise.
“Don’t worry about it,” he giggles.
Sex is odd. Because, that’s what it was - sex, right? Two people enjoying each other in ways that are normally private. It’s a lot of build-up and a lot of nervous butterflies, and in a moment, it’s over.
Kurt knows now that those private smiles and sweet moments in the afterglow are worth all of the awkwardness in the world.
Blaine frowns. “It’s so... sticky.”
“Alright,” Kurt rolls his eyes. “Afterglow over.”
“Wanna see if we can get pizza?”
Kurt should smack him. This is supposed to be a Very Beautiful Moment. Blaine is ruining this for him. His stomach gurgles. He sighs. “You’re paying.”
Author gameboycolor
Pairing: Klaine
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Underage drinking, mutual masturbation
Rating: R
Length: ~3100
Summary: A Warblers party leads to a few interesting texts.
A/N: want to thank all of my awesome beta readers. You guys are awesome. I can't remember the last time I wrote something more than 3k, so I hope you all enjoy it! The title is from Move for Me by Kaskade.
Kurt and Blaine are the first to leave the party. And despite all of the whispers, they head off to their separate dorm rooms.
Sure, there is a lingering kiss outside of Blaine’s door, one that tastes of vodka and punch. But it stops at a kiss. They smile and part ways for the evening.
It stops there.
-
Kurt lays in his bed, too aware of the fact that only a thin wall separates him from Blaine. His hand reaches out to touch the wall, and he wonders if Blaine’s own hand is on the other side.
But it’s not. He knows the layout of Blaine’s room well enough by now. The only thing on the other side of that wall is a desk. It’s nice, imagining Blaine being able to sense him, though.
Of course, this isn’t how the real world works. Especially not when you can just pick up a phone.
He sends off a quick text. You awake?
Kurt has tried to will himself to sleep. A second wind hit him during his nightly shower, and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about their goodnight kiss ever since. His mind keeps replaying the feeling of Blaine’s lips on his.
Hips apart.
Hands tightly balled up in blazers.
It had been bolder than any of their previous kisses. Maybe it was the drinking, maybe it was the tension. It was probably the result of being pressed so close together all night with nothing more to show for it. Not kissing, just dancing. They didn’t want to be that couple, especially at the first Warblers party since they started dating.
And besides that, they’re still making up the rules as they go along when it comes to physical contact. This is perhaps Kurt’s favorite part. They get to call the shots.
He loves what they have, he really does.
This hardly changes the fact that he’s here in his bed, craving more.
Blaine hasn’t responded. Maybe he’s already asleep. He had been swaying on his feet on the way back to the dorms. Kurt wouldn’t blame him for it. Most normal people are able to fall asleep after a night of drinking.
Luckily, Kurt doesn’t have to wonder much longer.
Yeah.
I can’t sleep. Kurt knows it sounds pathetic, but it’s true.
Have you tried making tea? I know that usually helps me.
Kurt glares at the wall. It’s not like Blaine can see him, but it still makes him feel better for some reason.
I don’t want tea.
He doesn’t wait for Blaine’s response before continuing.
I want you.
Next comes forty-seven seconds of sheer panic. Kurt has no idea where the line is, so how is he supposed to know when he’s crossed it? Everything is still so new between them. He doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
He really just should have taken Blaine’s advice about the tea. Ginger mint, maybe.
I need clarification before I can reply for the sake of not embarrassing myself.
You’re too coherent for how I left you tonight.
Thank you, autocorrect.
Kurt rolls onto his side, staring at his phone. His fingers hover over the keys. He could easily sidetrack the conversation at this point. Trade silly quips until they fall asleep texting. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s woken up with an iPhone-shaped dent on his cheek.
He doesn’t want to do that, though.
When you kissed me tonight, I didn’t want you to stop.
If I hadn’t stopped, what would you have wanted me to do?
The feeling in his belly is like a cauldron of butterflies, nerves, and arousal. He has Blaine’s permission to elaborate. It’s a powerful feeling.
I wish you invited me in, Blaine.
Kurt kicks off his comforter, suddenly feeling too hot. His skin feels like it’s stretched too tight. The poor air circulation in the dorms is hard to ignore. The fact that he's still clad in his party attire probably doesn't help, but he had been too lazy to undress.
His fingers are shaking as he types his next reply. I got hard when you bit my lip.
He cringes. Blaine must think he sounds ridiculous. He hides his head in the pillow, reluctant to look up, even when his phone goes off.
Are we doing this?
It’s the best cure I have for insomnia.
What, no warm milk? ;)
It’s hard for me to sleep sometimes, knowing you’re right next door.
For me, too.
I think about you coming over in the middle of the night. You’d have to be quiet, so we wouldn’t wake anyone--
He doesn’t even finish typing up his text before there is a knock at the door. His silly little fantasy dissolves instantly.
Who could it be at this hour? It’s as if someone knows he’s awkwardly trying to sext his boyfriend.
Kurt opens the door, unable to hide his surprise at Blaine’s presence.
He’s holding up his phone, looking every bit as flushed and rumpled as he was when Kurt left him at the door earlier in the evening. “I... really wanted to hear your voice.”
Kurt doesn’t drop his phone, which is good. It would be a waste. He isn’t due for an upgrade for another two months.
He does, however, pocket his phone and step aside to let Blaine in.
He hadn’t prepared for this possibility. He had figured that he would exchange a few bashful texts with Blaine, ones that he would turn red at the thought of come morning, and that would be that.
But Blaine is here, right in front of him.
“Y-you did?”
“Of course.” Blaine says as he takes a step closer. “All of this stuff sounds nice, but I didn’t want it to be over text. I like your voice. You have a nice voice.”
Kurt can’t stop staring at his punch tinted lips, and it isn’t long before he decides that he wants a taste. Words are too difficult, especially when he been relying on textual communication for this. He closes the space between them by capturing Blaine’s mouth with a kiss, hoping to distract him.
They stumble backwards towards Kurt’s bed, clumsy limbs and giggles keeping the process from being anything close to smooth. Kurt presses kiss after kiss to Blaine’s mouth, unable to help his smiles.
When Kurt presses Blaine back against the pile of blankets and pillows he calls a bed, he notes the mischievous glint in his eyes.
It’s not all that shocking when they’re clumsily trying to find all of the ways their lips fit together, that Blaine bites his lip.
True to his earlier words, Kurt gasps against Blaine’s mouth. His stomach swoops and his toes curl. It’s still just as hot as the memory he’s been replaying in his head, if not more so. He wants him to do it again, it feels good for reasons Kurt can’t even explain.
He tries to will Blaine to repeat the action, but it doesn’t work.
So he tells him to.
It’s much more effective than just hoping for it.
Kurt is high on his newfound power, and it’s hardly even a real power. It’s probably not even confidence. He simultaneously thanks and blames the alcohol in his system for the words that fall off his tongue next.
“I’ve always wanted to know what you look like,” he presses his lips to Blaine’s chin, his cheek, his jaw, “when you come.”
Blaine groans.
Kurt can feel him hard against his hip, so it’s difficult to feel embarrassed about his own state. “D’ya think... I mean, I know we haven’t yet.” He drags his lips along Blaine’s jaw. “But I want.”
Oh, does he want.
Unfortunately, the fact that he wants things doesn’t necessarily make him ready for them. He is quickly sobering up, and he is now realizing that what’s happening between him and Blaine is very real.
It’s weird, because it still feels a little like he passed out. Like this is all just a pleasant dream.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for you to touch me,” he admits. “But I really want to see you come.”
A dilemma. One that would have been easily solved if they had stuck to keeping things strictly over the phone.
“We could always...” Blaine chews on his bottom lip for a moment. “Uh, self-service?”
Kurt giggles.
His boyfriend is brilliant.
It’s not like this wouldn’t have happened anyway tonight, they’re just sharing a space to do it. They’re providing visual accompaniment. It’s kind of perfect.
“Let me in on the joke?” Blaine asks.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says dismissively. He hasn’t been dating Blaine long enough to share all of the ridiculous things that make him laugh. But he plans to date him for that long, if not longer.
“Isn’t the bed kind of small for this?” Blaine points out, and Kurt knows this already. He feels like he’s one growth spurt from his feet hanging off the end.
“I don’t mind being close,” he tells him sweetly.
Kurt reluctantly detaches himself from Blaine and rolls onto his back. As much as he would love to give in and rut up against Blaine until he comes, it’s not what they decided. This is why they talk things over beforehand.
The bedsprings let out a soft squeak with the shift, and Kurt closes his eyes tightly, as if it might lessen the noise. Once they’re side by side in Kurt’s bed, Blaine looks over at Kurt nervously. “We could always... go to bed. We don’t have to.”
“Do you not want to?” Kurt asks. If he’s this nervous, Blaine must be too.
“I really do,” he chuckles nervously. “But a boy needs some confirmation before he pulls his dick out.”
Kurt can’t help but laugh too. He had imagined that the first time there was some level of nudity in their relationship, it would be a little less...
Drunk?
Giggly?
On a cramped dorm bed?
He doesn’t wish he could change it, though. It’s already perfect. It’s them.
Kurt tugs his shirt off, careful not to elbow Blaine in the face while doing so. He has a feeling it would put a damper on things. When the garment is tossed carelessly to the floor, he raises a brow at Blaine.
Your move.
Blaine scrambles to pull off his own t-shirt, and his (it) soon joins Kurt’s on the floor.
His eyes rake down Blaine’s chest, and his pulse quickens. Blaine is gorgeous, from the soft looking trail of dark hair that disappears into the waistband of his jeans to his strong, compact looking shoulders. His nipples are cute. Kurt didn’t even know that nipples could be cute. It ends up being Blaine’s tummy that holds Kurt’s gaze the longest. He has this tiny bit of softness around his lower midsection that looks perfect for nuzzling.
Blaine’s abdomen tenses, and Kurt wonders if it’s from his gaze.
Kurt unbuttons his pants with shaking fingers. He’s mostly gone soft from nerves, but seeing Blaine tugging his own shirt off is nearly enough to rekindle the warmth in his belly.
“I like your nipples,” Kurt blurts out. They’re small and kind of perfect, not that he has much of a reference on these things. “I mean, ugh.” He closes his eyes. “No, I meant that. The nipples thing.”
“I like your everything,” Blaine replies, hardly phased by Kurt’s weird compliments.
-
Kurt lets out a soft sigh, because his boyfriend is stupidly romantic. Even in situations where romance might normally fall by the wayside.
Blaine’s breathing starts to quicken, and Kurt’s too nervous to look anywhere but his face. He can hear the sounds of fabric shifting, and he assumes Blaine is taking care of the remainder of his clothing.
Looking at Blaine’s face is easy. He’s had plenty of time to become comfortable with his soft smiles and the flutters his gaze often results in. He’s afraid that if he looks down, he’ll lose any nerve he has.
He doesn’t want to lose his nerve. He wants to know what Blaine looks like when he comes.
Kurt shoves his jeans down to his knees. He’s not interested in impersonating a gazelle, and it’s not like they’re going to be in the way. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for - this, whatever this is. When he focuses on Blaine again, he catches him licking his palm like some sort of overenthusiastic kitten.
“Um... I assumed you didn’t have any lube,” Blaine explains, looking a little embarrassed that Kurt caught him.
He’s wrong, but Kurt doesn’t feel like telling him that. Giving up the location of his more personal belongings would involve digging out a box that’s safely tucked under the bed. Kurt knows better than to keep these things in his nightstand.
“Sorry,” Kurt mumbles.
Blaine’s expression shifts shortly after his hand disappears from view. He sucks his bottom lip in and his eyes darken just a little. He’s trying to keep his eyes on Kurt, but he keeps looking away.
Like he’s shy or something.
Kurt gasps. He’s imagined what Blaine might look like in this situation, but the reality trumps any of his fantasies. He’s unrestrained, he’s gorgeous. There are less candles and roses. It’s kind of beautiful.
He doesn’t realize how hard is he for Blaine until it’s almost unbearable. Something about his sweetness and honesty in this moment is really doing things for Kurt. He doesn’t look like he’s trying to impress anyone, not even Kurt. Blaine is enjoying himself. It’s hot.
Kurt takes himself in his hand, wincing at the slight dryness. He’s about to suggest the box under his bed when Blaine carefully tugs his other wrist and brings his hand up to his mouth.
This time, Blaine looks like anything but an overenthusiastic kitten. He’s licking broad strokes over Kurt’s palm. His breath is damp and hot. Kurt thinks he’s going to die when Blaine’s tongue traces up his index finger, teasing the pad of it with the tip of his tongue shortly before taking the digit into his mouth.
Kurt’s eyes widen. It’s not hard to imagine Blaine’s lips somewhere else.
He feels like he should be saying something, showing Blaine how much he appreciates this. The problem is, he’s so used to muffling his moans into a pillow that he’s not even sure if they’re good moans. What if his moans are terrible? What if they’re the same moans he lets out over a particularly good slice of cheesecake?
Blaine releases Kurt’s finger with a faint pop and Kurt can’t help but let out a soft groan. It’s not a moan, but it’s definitely in the genre of sex sounds. He wants to bed to swallow him whole.
Thankfully, Blaine’s eyes widen. Hopefully, that means that he likes it.
Kurt can hear the slick sound of Blaine’s hand on his cock, and he has to grip himself tightly around the base just to keep from coming on the spot.
Should he be talking? He has no idea what to do. This all feels so complicated. How is he supposed to maneuver jerking off and saying the right thing? He can hardly do the latter on most days.
Kurt curls a slick hand around his cock and tries to focus on Blaine’s face again. The way his eyes scrunch up. The way he bites his lip. The flush of his cheeks. Kurt’s hand starts to move faster, thumbing over the head on the upstroke. “Blaine,” he gasps, not even feeling silly for letting it slip out.
It’s far from his usual conditions, the ones where he has the time to tease himself, and during the rare occasions he has time for it, work himself open with a finger or two.
But don’t get him wrong, Kurt isn’t complaining. He doesn’t need teasing. He has Blaine.
Blaine is like porn. (And by porn, Kurt means the good kind that he so rarely can find. The kind where both guys seem into it and no one has a distracting tattoo.)
“Kuh-urt,” Blaine chokes out, and Kurt can’t help but let out a soft - “fuck.” His name has never sounded like that before. Blaine says his name like a prayer. Like he’s something to be desired.
The room smells like sex and that should be the tackiest thing in the world, but for some reason, it isn’t.
Kurt leans forward to press his lips to Blaine’s slack mouth. They can’t do much besides pant a little against each others lips, but it still manages to make the list of his top five kisses of all time.
When Blaine comes, Kurt tries to hang on a little longer. He doesn’t want to miss this moment. The way Blaine’s entire face scrunches up and the little “uh, uh, uh” sounds he lets out. He wants to see it all.
(But there will be other times. Plenty of other times, if Kurt has any say in things.)
Blaine’s tipping point is the cause of his own.
He waits for stars or some other sort of white spots in his vision, but they never come. Instead, he comes all over his fist and looks over at his sleepy, sated boyfriend. He’s still coming down when Blaine gives him a lazy smile, the kind that reaches his eyes. Kurt feels like his heart is going to leap out of his chest.
“You’re better than stars.”
Blaine lets out a questioning noise.
“Don’t worry about it,” he giggles.
Sex is odd. Because, that’s what it was - sex, right? Two people enjoying each other in ways that are normally private. It’s a lot of build-up and a lot of nervous butterflies, and in a moment, it’s over.
Kurt knows now that those private smiles and sweet moments in the afterglow are worth all of the awkwardness in the world.
Blaine frowns. “It’s so... sticky.”
“Alright,” Kurt rolls his eyes. “Afterglow over.”
“Wanna see if we can get pizza?”
Kurt should smack him. This is supposed to be a Very Beautiful Moment. Blaine is ruining this for him. His stomach gurgles. He sighs. “You’re paying.”