fic: a filthy kind of beautiful (glee, kurt/blaine, nc-17)
Title: a filthy kind of beautiful
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 4,600
Notes: This was written for a prompt on glee_kink_meme: Blaine loves eating out Kurt's boypussy, but what he enjoys most is sliding his fingers in to him to rub, stroke and press gently against Kurt's hymen, because he totally gets off on knowing that he's the one that gets to break it one day.
Beta: The extraordinary coffeethyme4me, who has been working overtime the past couple of days. Thanks, darling. :-)
Summary: Kurt's not like other boys.
*
It had taken three months of dating-endless strings of community theatre musicals and stale biscotti and long peaceful car trips-for them to get to this point. Three months until Kurt (the SUV had been dark, only lit by the slanting parking lot lights, Kurt had stared out the window the entire time) whispered "I'm not like other boys."
Blaine had stifled a laugh because, well, duh. Kurt was better. But he’d bitten back his chuckle and been patient and encouraging, and when Kurt had finally worked up the confidence to say I've got a pussy, cringing like he expected Blaine's laugh to break through, his body hunched inwards like he was readying for a physical assault - Blaine had gotten hard.
Not because of Kurt's fear, because that wasn't sexy, wasn't okay and wasn't going to stay-no. He'd gotten hard because Kurt had a fucking cunt. A dick too, he knew, because he'd felt it; pressed up against his hip when they rutted on the couch like dogs in heat.
It took Kurt three months to work up the courage (courage, Kurt, courage) to confess his biggest secret, but only an hour for Blaine to reduce Kurt to this.
This beautiful wreck.
Blaine has never been more grateful for his parents’ wealth than he is tonight. Because making out in the back seat of Kurt's SUV or the twin beds in their dorm rooms is nothing compared to having Kurt spread out on a king-sized bed, his pale glistening body writhing on Egyptian cotton sheets. Navy is Kurt's best color. Blaine had bought the sheets thinking of this.
"Keep your hands above your head," he orders, shivering at the danger in his own voice. Kurt just nods and obeys. He crosses his arms at the wrist above his head.
So much skin. Pale, flushed, sweaty. His.
He straddles Kurt's body - their boxers are still on but Kurt's are soaked, soaked with more than just precome, his cunt must be dripping already - and traces lines with his fingernails down Kurt's arms. His vulnerable forearms, the curve of his elbows, his tense biceps, the damp hair in his ticklish armpits, the shallow promise of the dip in his collarbones. Draws lines like a roadmap to Kurt's nipples. Pebbled and pink.
"Pretty," he breathes, before he pinches Kurt's nipples in his fingers and rides Kurt's hips when he writhes underneath him.
He pinches harder and twists his fingers. Kurt's mouth falls open but no sound comes out; the tendons in his throat are visible. He's swallowing back cries-of pain, arousal, panic, maybe all three-Blaine can't tell because Kurt's being so fucking quiet.
"We've got a whole mansion to ourselves," he says. "We're not in the dorms anymore. No one's going to hear you, babe." Kurt nods, but there's a white line of tension around his lips when he closes his mouth.
"Are your nipples different the same way your cunt's different?" He presses his fingernails into Kurt's nipples until a whimper breaks through the vise of his control. Then he bends down and takes Kurt's right nipple in his mouth. Licks it, soothes it, caresses it. Teases it. "Because most guy's nipples aren't this sensitive," he breathes against Kurt's chest, watching Kurt's nipple harden, the skin around it breaking into goosebumps.
Honestly, he has no idea how sensitive men's nipples are supposed to be. He just knows that his aren't, really, and whenever he talks to Kurt about his tits or his cunt, his cheeks flare up in a violent blush and his cock jumps.
"I like it," he says quickly, because he does, and because the line between consensual humiliation and being cruel isn't a thin one when it comes to Kurt. "I like that I can do this to you," he says, as he rubs Kurt's other nipple with the pad of his thumb, hard, crushing it into his pec. Kurt's gasp is loud and immediate. His hips hitch upwards until he's rubbing his cock against Blaine's thighs.
When he finally stops playing with Kurt's nipples, they're a dark, bruise red, surrounded by bite marks and hickeys that stand out like landmarks on Kurt's pale skin. He's had a kink for leaving his mark on Kurt since the first time he accidentally left a hickey right in the curve of Kurt's jaw, underneath his chin, fading into his neck. His boyfriend has such sensitive skin. Everyone at Dalton had known what they’d been up to by lunchtime the next day.
"Keep your arms up," he chides, because at some point Kurt's hands had migrated down to Blaine's shoulders.
Kurt brushes his bangs off of his forehead as he obeys. His hair's a mess. Tangled, sweaty, mussed. He already looks like he just got fucked and Blaine's only just gotten started.
"I'm going to do such filthy things to you," he promises. "But if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable - "
"I'll tell you to stop," Kurt says with an eyeroll.
Blaine looks up at his boyfriend, over the taut expanse of his stomach and the canvas he's made of Kurt's chest, looks at the tense smile wavering on Kurt's mouth and the determination in his eyes. “Okay.”
He takes Kurt's boxers off slowly. Tries to keep his eyes on Kurt's to maintain contact, to watch for any hint of hesitation - but when he eases the waistband over Kurt's erect cock, all he can think about is how fucking pretty it is. Kurt's cock is flushed a dark pink. It’s smoother than Blaine's, hardly any hair around the base. He runs a finger over the prominent vein on the underside of Kurt's shaft, traces the curve of the head, and collects some of the precum building at the slit.
Kurt lets out a broken whimper when Blaine brings his fingers to his own mouth. Kurt tastes salty. He sucks his fingers clean and then returns to stripping Kurt. He pulls Kurt's boxers over his tight ballsack, the dip of his hipbones, the swell of his thighs. Kurt lifts his legs up to help get it over his feet but he's careful to keep his thighs together.
He's still hiding.
Blaine strips himself quickly, because Kurt's already seen Blaine naked, and moves on top of Kurt until their bodies are pressed together.
Kurt kisses Blaine like he's starving for it. When Blaine aligns their hips together, Kurt's high-pitched squeak builds into a gasp, a moan, builds into Blaine's name and then please-
Blaine presses one last kiss to Kurt's swollen lips and then sits up enough to give himself a little bit of space between their hips. Just enough for him to work a hand between them. Not enough for Kurt to feel like Blaine's staring, because he doesn't know how to make Kurt feel sexy instead of just exposed, and he's - he knows he's being greedy, impatient, maybe unfair, but - but he wants to feel it.
He strokes Kurt's cock once, before taking a deep breath and reaching further down. Past the smooth skin of Kurt's balls, the small stretch of skin behind them, to-
Oh, fuck.
Yes.
Kurt’s got a clit. A little nub of flesh, already hard and erect. When his finger passes over it Kurt’s entire body convulses. And beneath that - beneath Kurt’s clit is his pussy. And Blaine had been right; Kurt’s cunt is soaked. He gets on his knees between Kurt’s legs and rubs his finger over the slit between Kurt’s labia. Kurt’s legs close tight around him and his hands fly down to grab onto Blaine’s wrists.
He doesn’t pull Blaine’s hand away, though. Just holds him there, his fingertips barely touching Kurt’s soaked flesh. After a moment, Blaine rubs gently against Kurt’s vagina. He can see the muscles tighten underneath his hand. Can feel more liquid dribble past his finger.
“Do you want me to stop?”
"No," Kurt says, and his voice is so high and breathy that he really does sound like a girl. A shy, virginal girl.
"Okay. Can I-" Kurt nods before Blaine even finishes talking, so he just licks his lips, puts his hands on the inside of Kurt's thighs to spread him open, and brings his mouth to Kurt's cunt.
Kurt screams. His hands are immediately in Blaine's hair and his legs clamp down around Blaine's shoulders so tightly it actually hurts. Kurt screams and Blaine licks Kurt's clit. Flicks it with his tongue because it's so small, so pretty, he just wants to play with it. Kurt's voice goes up in a sharp gasp and when Blaine does it again, Kurt just says oh over and over again, oh, oh, oh, Blaine...
He licks circles around Kurt's clit and then rubs it with the flat of his tongue. He starts off gently but works his way up, thanking his years of voice training because he could eat Kurt out for hours. Is planning on it, because the sounds that Kurt is making are...delectable. Obscene. High and surprised and just for Blaine.
When Kurt's legs have finally relaxed again and his hands have loosened in Blaine's hair, Blaine grins, chin slick with Kurt's juices, and sucks on Kurt's clit. He figures it's like a tiny little cock, except maybe a bit more sensitive, so he presses his lips close around it and sucks-
He's made Kurt come before. Grinding against each other, their pants still on. He's even given Kurt handjobs through his pants, made him mess his designer clothes (taking perhaps a bit too much pride in that, if he’s being honest).
He's never made Kurt come like this.
It lasts for what seems like hours. Kurt just shakes, and all Blaine has to do is hang on, and keep sucking, holding onto Kurt's hips to keep him from breaking away. He takes a deep breath and licks a stripe up Kurt's cunt before going back to his clit and at first he doesn't know what happened. His neck is wet. His chest is wet. Kurt's crying and Blaine's lips are starting to hurt and when he pulls back for a deeper breath Kurt's hips hitch for a second and - and clear liquid just gushes out of him in violent spurts.
He wants to taste it. Has to taste it. He works just the tip of his tongue into Kurt's vagina and moans when his face gets soaked in an instant. Kurt's legs are jerking wildly on the bed, his breath so high and sharp it sounds like he's hyperventilating, and when Blaine just keeps working his cunt, he just keeps coming.
When Kurt whimpers, and reaches for his own cock, and only has to give it one stroke before come shoots out of his slit, Blaine rubs his hips against the bed and comes all over his navy Egyptian sheets. He presses his chin against Kurt's clit, maybe a bit too hard, maybe a bit too much when surely he's even more sensitive by now, but it's worth it because Kurt just freezes before a full-body shudder chases its way through him, from his clenched toes to his bitten lips. "Blaine..."
It's the sexiest thing he's ever seen.
It takes him a while to catch his breath. It feels like he shot his brain out through his cock. There's a deep ache centered around his groin, and even the brush of the sheets against his dick is irritating.
His head is still between Kurt's thighs. And Kurt is still shaking.
It's not-it's probably not nice, is the thing. Not gentlemanly. To want to just start all over again right away, make Kurt scream his name until he loses his voice. But Kurt's cunt is right there, and it kind of does look like a Georgia O'Keefe painting, crimson and unfurling. A tease of an opening. It's so small. His tongue had barely penetrated before he'd felt resistance.
"The bed's soaked," he realizes. He's had to deal with wet spots in the past, but usually it was just a matter of swiping up some come or switching sides of the bed, not-not this.
"Oh," Kurt whispers as he looks down at the sheets. His eyes are huge.
Blaine's wet from his chin down to his chest and when he sits up he can feel it drip down his body to mingle with his own come. It spreads outwards on the bed, drawing a dark path from between Kurt's thighs nearly to the end of the mattress. One of Kurt's hands covers his mouth but the other goes between his legs, as if it'd do any good now. "I don't-I'm sure it won't always do that," Kurt says, and it's rushed and it sounds like an apology and Blaine's about to laugh and go grab a towel but Kurt doesn't look embarrassed, he looks...miserable. "It's probably just because it's the first time. I'll-I'll be able to, you know. Hold that back. Next time."
Kurt pulls his knees up to his chest and tugs a sheet over himself. Over the wet spot on the bed.
There are a lot of things he needs to tell Kurt. A lot of issues they're going to have to deal with, and he's got a Good Boyfriend mental checklist that he will very diligently go down as soon as his cock calms the fuck down. "That's the first time you've ever squirted?" Kurt's face twists at the word. Blaine's sure there's probably a better term for it. More clinical, maybe, or even just one that's sexier, but the fact of the matter is that Kurt had - there had been so much of it, and it had come out so fast. It had shot out of his body like a fucking wave.
"I don't usually...touch. That part of myself," Kurt says, one fluttering hand gesturing vaguely at his crotch. "And I know that it's not exactly..." Kurt's making eye contact with every single item in Blaine's bedroom except for Blaine. And his voice has gone high again. "I know you're gay," he says finally, as if that's supposed to be news to Blaine.
"...and?"
There's a small, hopeless, terrible smile on Kurt's face when he finally looks up at him. "I know I'm not exactly what you want."
"Kurt, you're-you're everything," he says, and if he needs to go get his guitar and serenade Kurt with cheesy love songs until he believes Blaine again he'll do it. He's got a new pick and extra strings and a head full of Katy Perry, he can go all goddamn night. Anything to make Kurt stop pulling his body inwards like he's trying to disappear.
"I know," Kurt says quickly. "I know you...I know you love me," his voice is soft and sweet. "And I love you, too."
"Then I don't get what the problem is," Blaine says, holding his hands out in surrender.
Whatever happiness had been on Kurt's face drains away again. "You're very nice," Kurt says, and Blaine's learning that that's not exactly true because the things he wants to do to Kurt are fucking cruel. "But you don't have to pretend to-you don't have to pretend to like my genitals just because you like me."
And that makes so little sense that Blaine's not sure how long he stares at Kurt after he says it, utterly flummoxed.
"You're gay," Kurt whispers. "You want men, not-not girls. So you don't have to pay attention to the parts of me that don't...that don't fit."
It's so wrong. Kurt is so wrong. But not wrong as in sick, just - just farther away from the truth than Blaine realized it was possible for someone to be. "Baby," he says slowly, crawling up the bed until he's kneeling in front of Kurt's bent knees. "The sex we just had? That was really good sex." And it's maybe the biggest understatement in the history of the world but Kurt's blush already looks painful enough as it is. "I know it was good for you," he says, because it’s impossible to fake an orgasm like Kurt just had. "And it was so good for me, too." Kurt's eyes flicker from Blaine's face to his half-hard cock. "You made me come so hard, Kurt."
Kurt's shaking his head slowly, just little back-and-forth twitches. Blaine wonders if he even knows he's doing it.
"I like you,” Blaine says. “I like your pink lips and your cute little nipples and how ticklish your stomach is. I love your whole body. Your hands and your feet and your chin and your eyelashes. And-Kurt? I really, really like your cock. And your cunt."
Kurt's eyes close, trying to shut him out, so Blaine leans in closer. He puts his hands on Kurt's arms. Kisses each one of his sheet-covered kneecaps before he reaches forward and kisses Kurt's chin and the slight swell of his lower lip.
He knows how smart Kurt is. How he’s learned to use words like weapons. Knows how easily Kurt will be able to twist anything Blaine says into lies or barricades or threats. Maybe words aren't the best way to convince him.
"I want to make you come again," he murmurs, and he can feel Kurt's body flinch underneath him. "I want to suck your cock-" he leans forward to bite the moan from Kurt's lips, "and I want to eat out your cunt. I want to see how many times you'll come for me."
"Don't lie to me," Kurt warns, and Blaine has to swallow back the instinctive pity that rears its head every time Kurt's insecurity surfaces. Has to fight back the anger that follows when he thinks about all of the people who made Kurt distrust everyone around him.
"I'm not that selfless," he says. "And I'm not that good of an actor. I’ve never lied to you before, Kurt. And I promise, I’m not lying now."
He moves back on the bed, tugging on the sheet as he goes. After a moment's hesitation, Kurt lets him. The slow reveal of Kurt's body-the bruises on his chest, the slickness between his thighs, the come on his stomach-gets Blaine fully hard again.
"What do I have to do," he says, licking his lips, "to convince you that I mean what I'm saying?"
Kurt blushes again, but Blaine watches him steel his nerves. There's a determined set to his jaw that Blaine's starting to find very sexy. Kurt shuffles up onto his knees, sitting up until Blaine has to look up at his face.
"What do you want, baby?" He waits, but even though Kurt's mouth opens, nothing comes out. "Do you want me to suck your cock?" He's only ever done it a couple of times before, for past boyfriends, but he's practiced on enough bananas that he's pretty sure he'll be able to blow Kurt's mind. Pun intended. "Do you want me to rim your asshole the same way I ate your cunt?" Kurt's whole body sways forward, and Blaine lets himself be pressed down onto the mattress. "Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers? You don't even have to pick which hole, baby. ‘Cause I can fuck them both."
Kurt's hard by the time he gets Blaine on his back, and Blaine huffs out a laugh when Kurt starts desperately rutting against him.
"You have to tell me what you want, Kurt." Kurt growls in protest and nips at his neck. It's adorable. "I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do," he whispers. Because the fucking's fun, and he would like to get Kurt's legs spread wide and screw him into the mattress, but this is about a lot more than sex. Kurt’s...Kurt’s more important than that. "You can tell me to kiss you," he whispers.
"Kiss me."
Kurt's lips are soft and needy. His tongue is forceful and Blaine opens his mouth to let Kurt explore him. When Kurt pulls back to breathe, Blaine just looks at him. "Never thought I'd see you at a loss for words," he teases.
"I want," Kurt says, and Blaine's cock jumps because he can feel wetness dripping from Kurt's cunt, smearing down their thighs. "I want you to do what you were doing before. Again. But I don't want you to come until after I do," he says fiercely. "I want you to wait, so that I can-so that I can watch you come." Kurt's expression wavers between firm and scared so fast Blaine's not sure which one is real. Wonders how Kurt can bear to feel so much so strongly. "Is that okay?"
"That sounds perfect." They roll around in the bed until Kurt's underneath him again.
Blaine’s discovering that he likes being between Kurt's thighs. Likes being able to tease Kurt's clit with his breath, likes seeing the whole of Kurt spread out before him like an offering.
He kisses Kurt's clit before he really starts in. Like a hello, a greeting, just a chaste kiss placed between Kurt's parted folds. Soon his lips are slick and his face is hot and Kurt's undulating like a bellydancer, trying to get Blaine to give him more.
He stops with a finger poised right at Kurt's entrance. He doesn't know a lot about female anatomy, granted, but he had sat through an incredibly awkward segment of high school health class where they'd talked about…"Kurt?" There's no response, but when he traces a hand up Kurt's hip and over the dip of his stomach, he can see a small smile on Kurt's mouth. "Babe-"
"I trust you," Kurt says with a huff. "I believe you, and I know you like my-my girl parts, or whatever-so get on with it already!"
"That's not what I was going to say," Blaine says slowly, eyebrows raised at Kurt's outburst. "I was just going to ask...you said you don't touch yourself, down here." Kurt nods. "Have you ever put anything inside yourself?"
Kurt tries to twist away from him, but Blaine presses another kiss to Kurt's clit, and then to the swollen lips of his vagina, and Kurt stills. "No," Kurt moans.
"So is this-" he flicks his tongue out to test Kurt's opening. So tight. "Is this your hymen, baby?"
Kurt's body shudders. Blaine can feel his pussy convulse.
"Ask me to lick your virgin pussy," he says, before he realizes what he's doing. And it's crude and maybe kinkier than Kurt's ready for, but Blaine's cock is dripping from the mere thought of those words coming out of Kurt's cultured mouth. "Beg me," he whispers, the fingers of his left hand teasing at Kurt's cunt. He'd been watching Kurt for any signs of displeasure, but instead he gets Kurt's first gush. The first gush of his second orgasm, and he loses a moment thinking about how long it would take him to work Kurt's body until there was nothing left in his cock or his cunt, until he came dry, just-just writhing, painfully, coming with nothing left to give.
Kurt's voice brings him back. "Lick," Kurt pants. "Lick my v-my virgin pussy," and it's the quietest he's ever heard Kurt before. Shame and arousal twisting his voice into a silent breath that Blaine wants to swallow so badly it hurts him that he can't kiss Kurt's mouth and his cunt at the same time.
Kurt comes so quickly. Before Blaine's even thought about his own orgasm, before he's even started sucking at Kurt’s clit again-when he's just licking long paths from the bottom of Kurt's cunt to the base of his balls, his tongue dipping inside with every pass-Kurt comes.
Blaine gets a finger inside of him while he's still squirting and his arm gets soaked. His entire wrist, down his forearm, up to the crook of his elbow. "Jesus Christ," he swears. He twists his finger and sucks on Kurt's clit, not too hard, just to help him through the aftershocks-
In the same uncomfortable health class where he learned about the hymen, he heard about multiple orgasms.
Kurt’s sobbing. Kurt’s sobbing and riding Blaine’s hand so violently that he’s worried the finger he’s rubbing inside Kurt’s cunt is going to tear Kurt’s hymen. And he doesn’t want that. Not just because he wants to break Kurt open on his cock (he does, so badly), but because he wants it to be special. Not just a first night’s fumble.
So he moves with Kurt as much as he can, his knuckles rubbing hard against Kurt’s perineum in his attempts to keep his hand positioned just right inside his cunt.
Kurt’s cock is dribbling precum in a steady stream. His cock is bouncing on his stomach every time his hips undulate, leaving sticky pools on his abs.
“I’m gonna come,” Blaine realizes. And Kurt had asked him to wait, but unless he jumps in a cold shower right now, it’s not going to matter what Kurt said. “Kurt, can I-babe, please say it’s okay, Kurt, I’m sorry-”
“Yes,” Kurt gasps, and Blaine’s body seizes.
He bites down on Kurt’s thigh when he comes. Doesn’t mean to, not really, just-Kurt’s leg hair is soft and the skin’s been rubbed a bit raw by the shadow of Blaine’s beard and he’s already come to grips with his desire to leave bite marks on every inch of Kurt’s body.
But he hadn’t meant to bite Kurt that hard.
He pulls his mouth away with a quiet “Fuck,” looking at the teeth marks that are already bruising in Kurt’s flesh, and realizes that Kurt’s hips are completely off the bed. His body is a taut, perfect bow-his heels are digging into the mattress, his buttocks and lower back tight and tense, his mouth open in what Blaine thought was a silent scream but is actually just a cry, a long, thready cry that climaxes when Kurt’s cock does. He sucks Kurt’s tight balls into his mouth and rubs his finger inside his pulsing cunt and makes Kurt come until he pushes himself up the bed and away from Blaine's mouth.
Blaine's lying in a second wet spot and Kurt's collapsed in a semi-circle on the pillows, his thighs trembling, his cunt still twitching, last little bursts of pleasure wringing fluid out of Kurt's cunt to drip onto the pillowcases.
“We’re going to have to sleep on the couch.”
Kurt huffs a little breathless laugh before groaning. “I think I pulled something.” He fakes a pout, but the sex hair ruins whatever innocent look he was going for.
“I love you,” he says, gazing into Kurt’s eyes.
“You were okay,” Kurt replies magnanimously, patting him on the shoulder. “But I’m sure you’ll do better next time.”
“I was-what?” Kurt shrieks with laughter when Blaine pounces on him. He loves being naked next to Kurt. Loves their cocks being pressed together, hard or soft. Loves the brush of Kurt’s calf against his ankle and the occasional glimpse of his bellybutton.
“I love you too,” Kurt says, with the most relaxed smile on his face Blaine’s ever seen him wear. “Now change the sheets and get me a glass of water.” Blaine rolls his eyes and kisses Kurt on the nose before he gets up. “And a comb!”
Blaine gets up and goes to the kitchen for water, and raids the linen closet for a new...everything, and then stops in his bathroom for a comb. And a container of lube. Gotta be prepared for round three...
*
Feedback is devoured like Darren Criss shirtless chocolate.
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 4,600
Notes: This was written for a prompt on glee_kink_meme: Blaine loves eating out Kurt's boypussy, but what he enjoys most is sliding his fingers in to him to rub, stroke and press gently against Kurt's hymen, because he totally gets off on knowing that he's the one that gets to break it one day.
Beta: The extraordinary coffeethyme4me, who has been working overtime the past couple of days. Thanks, darling. :-)
Summary: Kurt's not like other boys.
*
It had taken three months of dating-endless strings of community theatre musicals and stale biscotti and long peaceful car trips-for them to get to this point. Three months until Kurt (the SUV had been dark, only lit by the slanting parking lot lights, Kurt had stared out the window the entire time) whispered "I'm not like other boys."
Blaine had stifled a laugh because, well, duh. Kurt was better. But he’d bitten back his chuckle and been patient and encouraging, and when Kurt had finally worked up the confidence to say I've got a pussy, cringing like he expected Blaine's laugh to break through, his body hunched inwards like he was readying for a physical assault - Blaine had gotten hard.
Not because of Kurt's fear, because that wasn't sexy, wasn't okay and wasn't going to stay-no. He'd gotten hard because Kurt had a fucking cunt. A dick too, he knew, because he'd felt it; pressed up against his hip when they rutted on the couch like dogs in heat.
It took Kurt three months to work up the courage (courage, Kurt, courage) to confess his biggest secret, but only an hour for Blaine to reduce Kurt to this.
This beautiful wreck.
Blaine has never been more grateful for his parents’ wealth than he is tonight. Because making out in the back seat of Kurt's SUV or the twin beds in their dorm rooms is nothing compared to having Kurt spread out on a king-sized bed, his pale glistening body writhing on Egyptian cotton sheets. Navy is Kurt's best color. Blaine had bought the sheets thinking of this.
"Keep your hands above your head," he orders, shivering at the danger in his own voice. Kurt just nods and obeys. He crosses his arms at the wrist above his head.
So much skin. Pale, flushed, sweaty. His.
He straddles Kurt's body - their boxers are still on but Kurt's are soaked, soaked with more than just precome, his cunt must be dripping already - and traces lines with his fingernails down Kurt's arms. His vulnerable forearms, the curve of his elbows, his tense biceps, the damp hair in his ticklish armpits, the shallow promise of the dip in his collarbones. Draws lines like a roadmap to Kurt's nipples. Pebbled and pink.
"Pretty," he breathes, before he pinches Kurt's nipples in his fingers and rides Kurt's hips when he writhes underneath him.
He pinches harder and twists his fingers. Kurt's mouth falls open but no sound comes out; the tendons in his throat are visible. He's swallowing back cries-of pain, arousal, panic, maybe all three-Blaine can't tell because Kurt's being so fucking quiet.
"We've got a whole mansion to ourselves," he says. "We're not in the dorms anymore. No one's going to hear you, babe." Kurt nods, but there's a white line of tension around his lips when he closes his mouth.
"Are your nipples different the same way your cunt's different?" He presses his fingernails into Kurt's nipples until a whimper breaks through the vise of his control. Then he bends down and takes Kurt's right nipple in his mouth. Licks it, soothes it, caresses it. Teases it. "Because most guy's nipples aren't this sensitive," he breathes against Kurt's chest, watching Kurt's nipple harden, the skin around it breaking into goosebumps.
Honestly, he has no idea how sensitive men's nipples are supposed to be. He just knows that his aren't, really, and whenever he talks to Kurt about his tits or his cunt, his cheeks flare up in a violent blush and his cock jumps.
"I like it," he says quickly, because he does, and because the line between consensual humiliation and being cruel isn't a thin one when it comes to Kurt. "I like that I can do this to you," he says, as he rubs Kurt's other nipple with the pad of his thumb, hard, crushing it into his pec. Kurt's gasp is loud and immediate. His hips hitch upwards until he's rubbing his cock against Blaine's thighs.
When he finally stops playing with Kurt's nipples, they're a dark, bruise red, surrounded by bite marks and hickeys that stand out like landmarks on Kurt's pale skin. He's had a kink for leaving his mark on Kurt since the first time he accidentally left a hickey right in the curve of Kurt's jaw, underneath his chin, fading into his neck. His boyfriend has such sensitive skin. Everyone at Dalton had known what they’d been up to by lunchtime the next day.
"Keep your arms up," he chides, because at some point Kurt's hands had migrated down to Blaine's shoulders.
Kurt brushes his bangs off of his forehead as he obeys. His hair's a mess. Tangled, sweaty, mussed. He already looks like he just got fucked and Blaine's only just gotten started.
"I'm going to do such filthy things to you," he promises. "But if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable - "
"I'll tell you to stop," Kurt says with an eyeroll.
Blaine looks up at his boyfriend, over the taut expanse of his stomach and the canvas he's made of Kurt's chest, looks at the tense smile wavering on Kurt's mouth and the determination in his eyes. “Okay.”
He takes Kurt's boxers off slowly. Tries to keep his eyes on Kurt's to maintain contact, to watch for any hint of hesitation - but when he eases the waistband over Kurt's erect cock, all he can think about is how fucking pretty it is. Kurt's cock is flushed a dark pink. It’s smoother than Blaine's, hardly any hair around the base. He runs a finger over the prominent vein on the underside of Kurt's shaft, traces the curve of the head, and collects some of the precum building at the slit.
Kurt lets out a broken whimper when Blaine brings his fingers to his own mouth. Kurt tastes salty. He sucks his fingers clean and then returns to stripping Kurt. He pulls Kurt's boxers over his tight ballsack, the dip of his hipbones, the swell of his thighs. Kurt lifts his legs up to help get it over his feet but he's careful to keep his thighs together.
He's still hiding.
Blaine strips himself quickly, because Kurt's already seen Blaine naked, and moves on top of Kurt until their bodies are pressed together.
Kurt kisses Blaine like he's starving for it. When Blaine aligns their hips together, Kurt's high-pitched squeak builds into a gasp, a moan, builds into Blaine's name and then please-
Blaine presses one last kiss to Kurt's swollen lips and then sits up enough to give himself a little bit of space between their hips. Just enough for him to work a hand between them. Not enough for Kurt to feel like Blaine's staring, because he doesn't know how to make Kurt feel sexy instead of just exposed, and he's - he knows he's being greedy, impatient, maybe unfair, but - but he wants to feel it.
He strokes Kurt's cock once, before taking a deep breath and reaching further down. Past the smooth skin of Kurt's balls, the small stretch of skin behind them, to-
Oh, fuck.
Yes.
Kurt’s got a clit. A little nub of flesh, already hard and erect. When his finger passes over it Kurt’s entire body convulses. And beneath that - beneath Kurt’s clit is his pussy. And Blaine had been right; Kurt’s cunt is soaked. He gets on his knees between Kurt’s legs and rubs his finger over the slit between Kurt’s labia. Kurt’s legs close tight around him and his hands fly down to grab onto Blaine’s wrists.
He doesn’t pull Blaine’s hand away, though. Just holds him there, his fingertips barely touching Kurt’s soaked flesh. After a moment, Blaine rubs gently against Kurt’s vagina. He can see the muscles tighten underneath his hand. Can feel more liquid dribble past his finger.
“Do you want me to stop?”
"No," Kurt says, and his voice is so high and breathy that he really does sound like a girl. A shy, virginal girl.
"Okay. Can I-" Kurt nods before Blaine even finishes talking, so he just licks his lips, puts his hands on the inside of Kurt's thighs to spread him open, and brings his mouth to Kurt's cunt.
Kurt screams. His hands are immediately in Blaine's hair and his legs clamp down around Blaine's shoulders so tightly it actually hurts. Kurt screams and Blaine licks Kurt's clit. Flicks it with his tongue because it's so small, so pretty, he just wants to play with it. Kurt's voice goes up in a sharp gasp and when Blaine does it again, Kurt just says oh over and over again, oh, oh, oh, Blaine...
He licks circles around Kurt's clit and then rubs it with the flat of his tongue. He starts off gently but works his way up, thanking his years of voice training because he could eat Kurt out for hours. Is planning on it, because the sounds that Kurt is making are...delectable. Obscene. High and surprised and just for Blaine.
When Kurt's legs have finally relaxed again and his hands have loosened in Blaine's hair, Blaine grins, chin slick with Kurt's juices, and sucks on Kurt's clit. He figures it's like a tiny little cock, except maybe a bit more sensitive, so he presses his lips close around it and sucks-
He's made Kurt come before. Grinding against each other, their pants still on. He's even given Kurt handjobs through his pants, made him mess his designer clothes (taking perhaps a bit too much pride in that, if he’s being honest).
He's never made Kurt come like this.
It lasts for what seems like hours. Kurt just shakes, and all Blaine has to do is hang on, and keep sucking, holding onto Kurt's hips to keep him from breaking away. He takes a deep breath and licks a stripe up Kurt's cunt before going back to his clit and at first he doesn't know what happened. His neck is wet. His chest is wet. Kurt's crying and Blaine's lips are starting to hurt and when he pulls back for a deeper breath Kurt's hips hitch for a second and - and clear liquid just gushes out of him in violent spurts.
He wants to taste it. Has to taste it. He works just the tip of his tongue into Kurt's vagina and moans when his face gets soaked in an instant. Kurt's legs are jerking wildly on the bed, his breath so high and sharp it sounds like he's hyperventilating, and when Blaine just keeps working his cunt, he just keeps coming.
When Kurt whimpers, and reaches for his own cock, and only has to give it one stroke before come shoots out of his slit, Blaine rubs his hips against the bed and comes all over his navy Egyptian sheets. He presses his chin against Kurt's clit, maybe a bit too hard, maybe a bit too much when surely he's even more sensitive by now, but it's worth it because Kurt just freezes before a full-body shudder chases its way through him, from his clenched toes to his bitten lips. "Blaine..."
It's the sexiest thing he's ever seen.
It takes him a while to catch his breath. It feels like he shot his brain out through his cock. There's a deep ache centered around his groin, and even the brush of the sheets against his dick is irritating.
His head is still between Kurt's thighs. And Kurt is still shaking.
It's not-it's probably not nice, is the thing. Not gentlemanly. To want to just start all over again right away, make Kurt scream his name until he loses his voice. But Kurt's cunt is right there, and it kind of does look like a Georgia O'Keefe painting, crimson and unfurling. A tease of an opening. It's so small. His tongue had barely penetrated before he'd felt resistance.
"The bed's soaked," he realizes. He's had to deal with wet spots in the past, but usually it was just a matter of swiping up some come or switching sides of the bed, not-not this.
"Oh," Kurt whispers as he looks down at the sheets. His eyes are huge.
Blaine's wet from his chin down to his chest and when he sits up he can feel it drip down his body to mingle with his own come. It spreads outwards on the bed, drawing a dark path from between Kurt's thighs nearly to the end of the mattress. One of Kurt's hands covers his mouth but the other goes between his legs, as if it'd do any good now. "I don't-I'm sure it won't always do that," Kurt says, and it's rushed and it sounds like an apology and Blaine's about to laugh and go grab a towel but Kurt doesn't look embarrassed, he looks...miserable. "It's probably just because it's the first time. I'll-I'll be able to, you know. Hold that back. Next time."
Kurt pulls his knees up to his chest and tugs a sheet over himself. Over the wet spot on the bed.
There are a lot of things he needs to tell Kurt. A lot of issues they're going to have to deal with, and he's got a Good Boyfriend mental checklist that he will very diligently go down as soon as his cock calms the fuck down. "That's the first time you've ever squirted?" Kurt's face twists at the word. Blaine's sure there's probably a better term for it. More clinical, maybe, or even just one that's sexier, but the fact of the matter is that Kurt had - there had been so much of it, and it had come out so fast. It had shot out of his body like a fucking wave.
"I don't usually...touch. That part of myself," Kurt says, one fluttering hand gesturing vaguely at his crotch. "And I know that it's not exactly..." Kurt's making eye contact with every single item in Blaine's bedroom except for Blaine. And his voice has gone high again. "I know you're gay," he says finally, as if that's supposed to be news to Blaine.
"...and?"
There's a small, hopeless, terrible smile on Kurt's face when he finally looks up at him. "I know I'm not exactly what you want."
"Kurt, you're-you're everything," he says, and if he needs to go get his guitar and serenade Kurt with cheesy love songs until he believes Blaine again he'll do it. He's got a new pick and extra strings and a head full of Katy Perry, he can go all goddamn night. Anything to make Kurt stop pulling his body inwards like he's trying to disappear.
"I know," Kurt says quickly. "I know you...I know you love me," his voice is soft and sweet. "And I love you, too."
"Then I don't get what the problem is," Blaine says, holding his hands out in surrender.
Whatever happiness had been on Kurt's face drains away again. "You're very nice," Kurt says, and Blaine's learning that that's not exactly true because the things he wants to do to Kurt are fucking cruel. "But you don't have to pretend to-you don't have to pretend to like my genitals just because you like me."
And that makes so little sense that Blaine's not sure how long he stares at Kurt after he says it, utterly flummoxed.
"You're gay," Kurt whispers. "You want men, not-not girls. So you don't have to pay attention to the parts of me that don't...that don't fit."
It's so wrong. Kurt is so wrong. But not wrong as in sick, just - just farther away from the truth than Blaine realized it was possible for someone to be. "Baby," he says slowly, crawling up the bed until he's kneeling in front of Kurt's bent knees. "The sex we just had? That was really good sex." And it's maybe the biggest understatement in the history of the world but Kurt's blush already looks painful enough as it is. "I know it was good for you," he says, because it’s impossible to fake an orgasm like Kurt just had. "And it was so good for me, too." Kurt's eyes flicker from Blaine's face to his half-hard cock. "You made me come so hard, Kurt."
Kurt's shaking his head slowly, just little back-and-forth twitches. Blaine wonders if he even knows he's doing it.
"I like you,” Blaine says. “I like your pink lips and your cute little nipples and how ticklish your stomach is. I love your whole body. Your hands and your feet and your chin and your eyelashes. And-Kurt? I really, really like your cock. And your cunt."
Kurt's eyes close, trying to shut him out, so Blaine leans in closer. He puts his hands on Kurt's arms. Kisses each one of his sheet-covered kneecaps before he reaches forward and kisses Kurt's chin and the slight swell of his lower lip.
He knows how smart Kurt is. How he’s learned to use words like weapons. Knows how easily Kurt will be able to twist anything Blaine says into lies or barricades or threats. Maybe words aren't the best way to convince him.
"I want to make you come again," he murmurs, and he can feel Kurt's body flinch underneath him. "I want to suck your cock-" he leans forward to bite the moan from Kurt's lips, "and I want to eat out your cunt. I want to see how many times you'll come for me."
"Don't lie to me," Kurt warns, and Blaine has to swallow back the instinctive pity that rears its head every time Kurt's insecurity surfaces. Has to fight back the anger that follows when he thinks about all of the people who made Kurt distrust everyone around him.
"I'm not that selfless," he says. "And I'm not that good of an actor. I’ve never lied to you before, Kurt. And I promise, I’m not lying now."
He moves back on the bed, tugging on the sheet as he goes. After a moment's hesitation, Kurt lets him. The slow reveal of Kurt's body-the bruises on his chest, the slickness between his thighs, the come on his stomach-gets Blaine fully hard again.
"What do I have to do," he says, licking his lips, "to convince you that I mean what I'm saying?"
Kurt blushes again, but Blaine watches him steel his nerves. There's a determined set to his jaw that Blaine's starting to find very sexy. Kurt shuffles up onto his knees, sitting up until Blaine has to look up at his face.
"What do you want, baby?" He waits, but even though Kurt's mouth opens, nothing comes out. "Do you want me to suck your cock?" He's only ever done it a couple of times before, for past boyfriends, but he's practiced on enough bananas that he's pretty sure he'll be able to blow Kurt's mind. Pun intended. "Do you want me to rim your asshole the same way I ate your cunt?" Kurt's whole body sways forward, and Blaine lets himself be pressed down onto the mattress. "Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers? You don't even have to pick which hole, baby. ‘Cause I can fuck them both."
Kurt's hard by the time he gets Blaine on his back, and Blaine huffs out a laugh when Kurt starts desperately rutting against him.
"You have to tell me what you want, Kurt." Kurt growls in protest and nips at his neck. It's adorable. "I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do," he whispers. Because the fucking's fun, and he would like to get Kurt's legs spread wide and screw him into the mattress, but this is about a lot more than sex. Kurt’s...Kurt’s more important than that. "You can tell me to kiss you," he whispers.
"Kiss me."
Kurt's lips are soft and needy. His tongue is forceful and Blaine opens his mouth to let Kurt explore him. When Kurt pulls back to breathe, Blaine just looks at him. "Never thought I'd see you at a loss for words," he teases.
"I want," Kurt says, and Blaine's cock jumps because he can feel wetness dripping from Kurt's cunt, smearing down their thighs. "I want you to do what you were doing before. Again. But I don't want you to come until after I do," he says fiercely. "I want you to wait, so that I can-so that I can watch you come." Kurt's expression wavers between firm and scared so fast Blaine's not sure which one is real. Wonders how Kurt can bear to feel so much so strongly. "Is that okay?"
"That sounds perfect." They roll around in the bed until Kurt's underneath him again.
Blaine’s discovering that he likes being between Kurt's thighs. Likes being able to tease Kurt's clit with his breath, likes seeing the whole of Kurt spread out before him like an offering.
He kisses Kurt's clit before he really starts in. Like a hello, a greeting, just a chaste kiss placed between Kurt's parted folds. Soon his lips are slick and his face is hot and Kurt's undulating like a bellydancer, trying to get Blaine to give him more.
He stops with a finger poised right at Kurt's entrance. He doesn't know a lot about female anatomy, granted, but he had sat through an incredibly awkward segment of high school health class where they'd talked about…"Kurt?" There's no response, but when he traces a hand up Kurt's hip and over the dip of his stomach, he can see a small smile on Kurt's mouth. "Babe-"
"I trust you," Kurt says with a huff. "I believe you, and I know you like my-my girl parts, or whatever-so get on with it already!"
"That's not what I was going to say," Blaine says slowly, eyebrows raised at Kurt's outburst. "I was just going to ask...you said you don't touch yourself, down here." Kurt nods. "Have you ever put anything inside yourself?"
Kurt tries to twist away from him, but Blaine presses another kiss to Kurt's clit, and then to the swollen lips of his vagina, and Kurt stills. "No," Kurt moans.
"So is this-" he flicks his tongue out to test Kurt's opening. So tight. "Is this your hymen, baby?"
Kurt's body shudders. Blaine can feel his pussy convulse.
"Ask me to lick your virgin pussy," he says, before he realizes what he's doing. And it's crude and maybe kinkier than Kurt's ready for, but Blaine's cock is dripping from the mere thought of those words coming out of Kurt's cultured mouth. "Beg me," he whispers, the fingers of his left hand teasing at Kurt's cunt. He'd been watching Kurt for any signs of displeasure, but instead he gets Kurt's first gush. The first gush of his second orgasm, and he loses a moment thinking about how long it would take him to work Kurt's body until there was nothing left in his cock or his cunt, until he came dry, just-just writhing, painfully, coming with nothing left to give.
Kurt's voice brings him back. "Lick," Kurt pants. "Lick my v-my virgin pussy," and it's the quietest he's ever heard Kurt before. Shame and arousal twisting his voice into a silent breath that Blaine wants to swallow so badly it hurts him that he can't kiss Kurt's mouth and his cunt at the same time.
Kurt comes so quickly. Before Blaine's even thought about his own orgasm, before he's even started sucking at Kurt’s clit again-when he's just licking long paths from the bottom of Kurt's cunt to the base of his balls, his tongue dipping inside with every pass-Kurt comes.
Blaine gets a finger inside of him while he's still squirting and his arm gets soaked. His entire wrist, down his forearm, up to the crook of his elbow. "Jesus Christ," he swears. He twists his finger and sucks on Kurt's clit, not too hard, just to help him through the aftershocks-
In the same uncomfortable health class where he learned about the hymen, he heard about multiple orgasms.
Kurt’s sobbing. Kurt’s sobbing and riding Blaine’s hand so violently that he’s worried the finger he’s rubbing inside Kurt’s cunt is going to tear Kurt’s hymen. And he doesn’t want that. Not just because he wants to break Kurt open on his cock (he does, so badly), but because he wants it to be special. Not just a first night’s fumble.
So he moves with Kurt as much as he can, his knuckles rubbing hard against Kurt’s perineum in his attempts to keep his hand positioned just right inside his cunt.
Kurt’s cock is dribbling precum in a steady stream. His cock is bouncing on his stomach every time his hips undulate, leaving sticky pools on his abs.
“I’m gonna come,” Blaine realizes. And Kurt had asked him to wait, but unless he jumps in a cold shower right now, it’s not going to matter what Kurt said. “Kurt, can I-babe, please say it’s okay, Kurt, I’m sorry-”
“Yes,” Kurt gasps, and Blaine’s body seizes.
He bites down on Kurt’s thigh when he comes. Doesn’t mean to, not really, just-Kurt’s leg hair is soft and the skin’s been rubbed a bit raw by the shadow of Blaine’s beard and he’s already come to grips with his desire to leave bite marks on every inch of Kurt’s body.
But he hadn’t meant to bite Kurt that hard.
He pulls his mouth away with a quiet “Fuck,” looking at the teeth marks that are already bruising in Kurt’s flesh, and realizes that Kurt’s hips are completely off the bed. His body is a taut, perfect bow-his heels are digging into the mattress, his buttocks and lower back tight and tense, his mouth open in what Blaine thought was a silent scream but is actually just a cry, a long, thready cry that climaxes when Kurt’s cock does. He sucks Kurt’s tight balls into his mouth and rubs his finger inside his pulsing cunt and makes Kurt come until he pushes himself up the bed and away from Blaine's mouth.
Blaine's lying in a second wet spot and Kurt's collapsed in a semi-circle on the pillows, his thighs trembling, his cunt still twitching, last little bursts of pleasure wringing fluid out of Kurt's cunt to drip onto the pillowcases.
“We’re going to have to sleep on the couch.”
Kurt huffs a little breathless laugh before groaning. “I think I pulled something.” He fakes a pout, but the sex hair ruins whatever innocent look he was going for.
“I love you,” he says, gazing into Kurt’s eyes.
“You were okay,” Kurt replies magnanimously, patting him on the shoulder. “But I’m sure you’ll do better next time.”
“I was-what?” Kurt shrieks with laughter when Blaine pounces on him. He loves being naked next to Kurt. Loves their cocks being pressed together, hard or soft. Loves the brush of Kurt’s calf against his ankle and the occasional glimpse of his bellybutton.
“I love you too,” Kurt says, with the most relaxed smile on his face Blaine’s ever seen him wear. “Now change the sheets and get me a glass of water.” Blaine rolls his eyes and kisses Kurt on the nose before he gets up. “And a comb!”
Blaine gets up and goes to the kitchen for water, and raids the linen closet for a new...everything, and then stops in his bathroom for a comb. And a container of lube. Gotta be prepared for round three...
*
Feedback is devoured like Darren Criss shirtless chocolate.