Wingman
Title: Wingman
Media: Fanfic
Rating: R (ish?)
Pairing: Klaine
Word count: 1000-ish
Blaine had never thought much of Kurt's back. He figured that it was nothing special hiding under his shirt. Sure, it would be a little bit paler than his own back, and probably without the soft layer of dark hair that Blaine had. But, at the end of the day, a back is a back is a back. Kurt's back shouldn't have been anything special. So, when Kurt grabbed Blaine's hands over the Hummels' dinner table and said that he needed to show Blaine his back, the shorter boy was understandably taken aback... pun fully intended.
“Your back?” Blaine asked, raising a single thick eyebrow.
“Yes, my back. It's... different.” Kurt muttered into his chest.
“How is it different?” Blaine cooed, rubbing his thumb along Kurt's palm.
“Just... just look.” Kurt sighed. Holding onto Blaine's hand, he led him over to the soft blue couch in the living room. Without a word, Kurt sat down and faced his back to Blaine. “Promise you won't be freaked out?” He sighed, audibly holding back tears.
“I promise.” Blaine muttered, grabbing the sides of Kurt's torso. Kurt shook the touch away, and slowly lifted the back of his shirt. Blaine felt teased with every inch of skin shown. The ghostly pale skin was raw, translucent, begging to be kissed, touch, tasted. He would have pressed kisses into every single part of Kurt's skin, but he was frozen with anticipation. And then, there they were. Two beautiful, transparent wings erupted from Kurt's shoulderblades. Each was brightly-colored, speckled with greens, blues, and reds. Together, they were about the same size as the rest of Kurt's body, if not bigger. The lights in the Hummel house caught bits and pieces of the wings, making them glitter and sparkle.
“Wings?” Blaine asked, trying to hold in his surprise.
“Wings.” Kurt repeated. “You probably think I'm a freak, don't you?”
Blaine hushed Kurt's worries, placing a warm, dry hand on his now-bare shoulder. “Not at all. I think they're beautiful.”
Kurt sniffled. “Really?”
“Absolutely.” Blaine sighed. “Can you move them?”
Kurt flexed the muscles in his back. The wings moved an inch or so, just enough to let Blaine feel the cool breeze on his face. He could see the outline of Kurt's muscles along his spine. With each movement of the wings, the muscles bulged and relaxed, reminding Blaine of the ocean view of his parents' vacation house. “I can't move them enough to fly.” Kurt muttered under his breath. “They're just kind of there.”
“Do you always hide them?” Blaine asked, crossing his legs in front of him. “Under your clothes, I mean.”
Kurt nodded solemnly. “I usually tape them down.”
“Does it hurt?”
Kurt nodded again. “It's kind of like having a pulled muscle.”
“Why don't you let them out?” Blaine asked. Halfway through the sentence, he realized it was probably an inappropriate question. “I'm sorry, I-”
Kurt cut him off. “They just feel private to me. It's the same reason you don't walk around pantsless.”
“I would if I could.” Blaine mumbled. They both laughed until tears came out of their eyes. Kurt removed his shirt completely, and leaned up against Blaine's chest. The wings felt warm through his shirt. Blood was pulsing in them- whether that was from Kurt's nerves or just normal, he wasn't sure. “Can I... can I touch them?” He finally asked, his voice cracking.
“Sure.” Kurt sighed. “I'm so glad you're not freaked out.”
“Not at all.” Blaine whispered to himself as he gingerly touched the edge of one of the wings with his index finger. It was hot, feverishly so. The feeling was somewhere in between saran wrap and the webbed piece of skin between his own thumb and index finger. It was smoother than normal skin, but not slippery. He expected it to feel brittle in his hand, but instead, the wing felt solid, unbreakable. Kurt gasped as Blaine pinched the edge in between two fingers, feeling the thickness. “Sorry.” He whispered, more to the wings than to Kurt himself. Carefully, Blaine slid his hand down the entire length of the wings and onto Kurt's back. The joint where the back and the wing met was more muscular than he had realized. He could feel the blood pounding through Kurt's skin.
“That actually feels really good.” Kurt half-groaned into the air. Encouraged, Blaine took both hands, and ran them along both sides of each wing. He drew circles with his palms along the center, where a baby-blue spiral jutted out from Kurt's back. Blaine increased the circle until he was slowly covering every square inch of the wing with his outstretched fingers. Comfortable with the feel of one wing, he moved onto the other, lightly tracing his fingernails along the outline of the patterns that were glowing in the sunset just outside the room's skylight. Kurt moaned Blaine's name. Blaine pressed a kiss into the space of Kurt's back just between the two wing joints. The muscle there throbbed and tensed. Kurt made a kind of squeal and promptly slapped his hands over his mouth.
“I have to go.” Kurt muttered in one breath. “Be right back.”
Blaine leaned into the couch and noticed that his jeans seemed a little tighter than they had half an hour ago. He adjusted himself, careful not to enjoy the feeling too much. Kurt returned a few moments later, wearing a different pair of pants. “Sorry.” He muttered into the air, and Blaine shook his head.
“No worries, babe.” Blaine smiled.
“So you don't hate them?” Kurt asked, his blue eyes looking like they were about to spill over at any moment.
“I love them.”
Kurt smirked, closing his eyes in relief. “You know that felt fantastic. I had to... uh... change my pants afterward.”
“I noticed.” Blaine crossed his legs in an attempt to hide the ever-growing bulge in his jeans. “I think you've given new meaning to the term 'wingman,' Kurt.”
“I'm pretty sure the only 'wing-man' here is you, Blaine.”
Media: Fanfic
Rating: R (ish?)
Pairing: Klaine
Word count: 1000-ish
Blaine had never thought much of Kurt's back. He figured that it was nothing special hiding under his shirt. Sure, it would be a little bit paler than his own back, and probably without the soft layer of dark hair that Blaine had. But, at the end of the day, a back is a back is a back. Kurt's back shouldn't have been anything special. So, when Kurt grabbed Blaine's hands over the Hummels' dinner table and said that he needed to show Blaine his back, the shorter boy was understandably taken aback... pun fully intended.
“Your back?” Blaine asked, raising a single thick eyebrow.
“Yes, my back. It's... different.” Kurt muttered into his chest.
“How is it different?” Blaine cooed, rubbing his thumb along Kurt's palm.
“Just... just look.” Kurt sighed. Holding onto Blaine's hand, he led him over to the soft blue couch in the living room. Without a word, Kurt sat down and faced his back to Blaine. “Promise you won't be freaked out?” He sighed, audibly holding back tears.
“I promise.” Blaine muttered, grabbing the sides of Kurt's torso. Kurt shook the touch away, and slowly lifted the back of his shirt. Blaine felt teased with every inch of skin shown. The ghostly pale skin was raw, translucent, begging to be kissed, touch, tasted. He would have pressed kisses into every single part of Kurt's skin, but he was frozen with anticipation. And then, there they were. Two beautiful, transparent wings erupted from Kurt's shoulderblades. Each was brightly-colored, speckled with greens, blues, and reds. Together, they were about the same size as the rest of Kurt's body, if not bigger. The lights in the Hummel house caught bits and pieces of the wings, making them glitter and sparkle.
“Wings?” Blaine asked, trying to hold in his surprise.
“Wings.” Kurt repeated. “You probably think I'm a freak, don't you?”
Blaine hushed Kurt's worries, placing a warm, dry hand on his now-bare shoulder. “Not at all. I think they're beautiful.”
Kurt sniffled. “Really?”
“Absolutely.” Blaine sighed. “Can you move them?”
Kurt flexed the muscles in his back. The wings moved an inch or so, just enough to let Blaine feel the cool breeze on his face. He could see the outline of Kurt's muscles along his spine. With each movement of the wings, the muscles bulged and relaxed, reminding Blaine of the ocean view of his parents' vacation house. “I can't move them enough to fly.” Kurt muttered under his breath. “They're just kind of there.”
“Do you always hide them?” Blaine asked, crossing his legs in front of him. “Under your clothes, I mean.”
Kurt nodded solemnly. “I usually tape them down.”
“Does it hurt?”
Kurt nodded again. “It's kind of like having a pulled muscle.”
“Why don't you let them out?” Blaine asked. Halfway through the sentence, he realized it was probably an inappropriate question. “I'm sorry, I-”
Kurt cut him off. “They just feel private to me. It's the same reason you don't walk around pantsless.”
“I would if I could.” Blaine mumbled. They both laughed until tears came out of their eyes. Kurt removed his shirt completely, and leaned up against Blaine's chest. The wings felt warm through his shirt. Blood was pulsing in them- whether that was from Kurt's nerves or just normal, he wasn't sure. “Can I... can I touch them?” He finally asked, his voice cracking.
“Sure.” Kurt sighed. “I'm so glad you're not freaked out.”
“Not at all.” Blaine whispered to himself as he gingerly touched the edge of one of the wings with his index finger. It was hot, feverishly so. The feeling was somewhere in between saran wrap and the webbed piece of skin between his own thumb and index finger. It was smoother than normal skin, but not slippery. He expected it to feel brittle in his hand, but instead, the wing felt solid, unbreakable. Kurt gasped as Blaine pinched the edge in between two fingers, feeling the thickness. “Sorry.” He whispered, more to the wings than to Kurt himself. Carefully, Blaine slid his hand down the entire length of the wings and onto Kurt's back. The joint where the back and the wing met was more muscular than he had realized. He could feel the blood pounding through Kurt's skin.
“That actually feels really good.” Kurt half-groaned into the air. Encouraged, Blaine took both hands, and ran them along both sides of each wing. He drew circles with his palms along the center, where a baby-blue spiral jutted out from Kurt's back. Blaine increased the circle until he was slowly covering every square inch of the wing with his outstretched fingers. Comfortable with the feel of one wing, he moved onto the other, lightly tracing his fingernails along the outline of the patterns that were glowing in the sunset just outside the room's skylight. Kurt moaned Blaine's name. Blaine pressed a kiss into the space of Kurt's back just between the two wing joints. The muscle there throbbed and tensed. Kurt made a kind of squeal and promptly slapped his hands over his mouth.
“I have to go.” Kurt muttered in one breath. “Be right back.”
Blaine leaned into the couch and noticed that his jeans seemed a little tighter than they had half an hour ago. He adjusted himself, careful not to enjoy the feeling too much. Kurt returned a few moments later, wearing a different pair of pants. “Sorry.” He muttered into the air, and Blaine shook his head.
“No worries, babe.” Blaine smiled.
“So you don't hate them?” Kurt asked, his blue eyes looking like they were about to spill over at any moment.
“I love them.”
Kurt smirked, closing his eyes in relief. “You know that felt fantastic. I had to... uh... change my pants afterward.”
“I noticed.” Blaine crossed his legs in an attempt to hide the ever-growing bulge in his jeans. “I think you've given new meaning to the term 'wingman,' Kurt.”
“I'm pretty sure the only 'wing-man' here is you, Blaine.”