Happy Holidays Dapperdick!
Title: I Was Made To Keep Your Body Warm
Recipient: dapperdick
Author: to be revealed January 3rd, 2012
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Word Count: ~1480
Summary: It’s nice, Kurt thinks, as he wraps his body around Blaine, chest pressed to Blaine’s back. Intimate in a way he’d never considered before. If he believes in anything outside of himself, it’s the fan of Blaine’s eyelashes against his cheek and the way he breathes in a slightly stuffy way, like he’ll break out into whuffling snores at any second.
Notes: Happy Holidays, Dapperdick! Prompt used was the song “Kiss Me” by Ed Sheeran, which is also the origin of the title. Humongous thanks to C and E who helped whip this thing into shape! I couldn’t have done it without them.
Blaine has cold feet.
Not metaphorical cold feet with which he leaves Kurt at the alter on their wedding day, but literal cold feet that slide against Kurt’s warm calves and jolt him awake.
It’s only been forty minutes if the clock on his nightstand is any indication, and they’re pressed together from shoulder to hip with legs tangled, like pieces of a very simple puzzle that took forever to lock in place. Fully clothed, too, because they haven’t had time for anything naked since Blaine’s house during West Side Story. It had been overwhelming in the best way possible, like his whole body was a constant flame, but he’d had to leave right after to make it home before Blaine’s parents did. At the moment, he had been relieved to get away before the fire became too much and he burned from the inside out, but as soon as he curled into bed on his own, Kurt yearned to be close to Blaine again.
This they could find a moment for, a slice of precious time at Kurt’s house while Finn is at Rachel’s and Burt and Carole rush out after family dinner for last minute Christmas shopping-- where they are hopefully buying Kurt the Michael Kors sweatshirt that he’d put on his list three times so they’d get the hint.
They’d popped in a movie but quickly ignored it in favor of cuddling, and somehow sleep had happened, gentle kisses melting into soft presses of lips and warm exhales of breath. Blaine had curled up into Kurt’s chest and snuggled into the fabric as Kurt stroked at his hair, lulling them both into dreams.
It’s nice, Kurt thinks, as he wraps his body around Blaine, chest pressed to Blaine’s back. Intimate in a way he’d never considered before. Sure, the sex had been wonderful-- not just physically, though of course it was, sweat and sensation and sensuality swirling together, but emotionally. Kurt had never felt more intimately connected to another person before.
Until now, curled around Blaine snug and tight . If he believes in anything outside of himself, it’s the fan of Blaine’s eyelashes against his cheek and the way he breathes in a slightly stuffy way, like he’ll break out into whuffling snores at any second. Before, Kurt had always thought watching someone sleep was creepy, in a classic Edward-from-Twilight move-- he’d fast-forward through those parts in order to get to scenes with Taylor Lautner as quickly as possible.
There is something strangely intimate about this scene, watching Blaine’s chest rise and fall, watching Blaine rub his cheek against the pillow. If sleeping together was about baring his body, sleeping together is about baring his soul.
Even with cold feet, the second time Kurt sleeps in the same bed as Blaine is much better than the first. He flashes back to that night many months prior with too much alcohol and Blaine drooling all over Kurt’s new expensive pillows, can’t believe it was really less than a year ago because it feels like an entire lifetime.
It had been all kinds of awkward and not sexy in the slightest, sleeping in the same bed as Blaine, from the moment Finn had dumped Blaine onto Kurt’s bed after a tense argument about sleeping arrangements -- which Kurt had won -- until the moment Kurt’s dad caught them together. Even though there was technically nothing to catch.
What was supposed to be a sweet moment in Kurt’s mind turned into the most uncomfortable night of his life, trying to scoot as far away from Blaine as possible even though he’d overtaken nearly the entire bed with his body and snuffled muted snores into Kurt’s pillow like a drowsy starfish.
Their legs had brushed once and Blaine had mumbled happily how warm Kurt was, and after both Jeremiah and Rachel, Kurt lurched backward and slept as far on the other side of the bed as possible.
Now, though -- pressed together intentionally, wonderfully, snuggling into each other underneath the covers, I love yous from earlier still dancing in the air -- is an entirely different experience.
Blaine shifts restlessly, hooking his leg around Kurt’s calves. Kurt thinks he’s waking, too, but it’s a long moment before Blaine mumbles, “What are you thankful for?”
Kurt smiles, because Blaine’s breathing hasn’t changed. Perhaps Blaine talks in his sleep -- he’d done it the last time they’d been in a similar position -- and that sends a wonderful thrill through him, how he doesn’t know for sure, but has all the time in the world to find out.
“It’s not Thanksgiving,” Kurt says, aiming for a superior, haughty tone, though he’s sure what comes out of his mouth is more akin to adorable ribbing. He curls his arms tightly around Blaine’s stomach, hugging them together. “That was a month ago, Blaine.”
Blaine flips himself over -- not sleep-talking this time, at least -- pressing his body against Kurt and nuzzling into the warm hollow where Kurt’s neck meets his chest. He’s smiling, and it’s infectious. “We couldn’t be together on Thanksgiving, though,” he says, voice still thick and drowsy with sleep, as well as muffled into the collar of Kurt’s undershirt. “I was with my family and you were here, which means I never got to hear ‘em.”
“Well,” Kurt begins, running his hands through Blaine’s hair with a gentle scratching motion, “I have a lot to be thankful for this year.”
“Like what?” Blaine asks. He snuggles deeper into Kurt’s chest, throwing his arm over Kurt’s hip to pull them closer together.
“My dad is doing well health-wise,” Kurt begins, removing one hand from Blaine’s hair to tick off the list on his fingers and ignoring Blaine’s pitiful whimper in the process. “No heart attacks, which automatically makes this year fantastic. We also won Sectionals, even with four of our members missing and three of them competing against us. Also, my dad and Carole are out for the evening,” Kurt says after a little pause, smiling as Blaine tilts his head up for a kiss and hums appreciatively against Kurt’s lips.
Blaine pulls back a fraction. “A year ago, I didn’t know what your lips tasted like,” Blaine says as his mouth draws into a lazy smile. “Definitely thankful I do now.”
Kurt chuckles and leans in for another quick peck, pulling away when Blaine tries to deepen it. “Mmm, but you still sang about them.”
Blaine flushes, but exhales a quick laugh against Kurt’s lips. “The real thing is much better than the song.”
Kurt scoffs, though inside he beams at the strange pseudo-compliment. “The song is a classic, Blaine.”
“You’re classic,” Blaine replies in a quick mumble, capturing Kurt’s mouth in a kiss before he can dignify that with a response.
He forgets all about it as Blaine’s tongue presses against his lips, and he lets them open with well-practiced and well-appreciated ease so Blaine can lick into his mouth. It’s sloppy and lazy, noses bumping together and a little too much saliva, but Kurt loves it just the same. There’s no need to hurry when they can just be, believing for a moment that they have all the time in the world to cuddle together and trade sleepy, perfect kisses that are quickly becoming Kurt’s favorite.
Kurt pulls away with a smile, nudges his forehead against Blaine’s so they don’t drift too far apart. “But mostly,” he says, pressing their palms together, “I’m thankful for you. For this--”
linking their fingers together, “--For us.”
Blaine blushes and kisses Kurt on the side of his mouth in a spot that seems to be rapidly becoming Blaine’s favorite. He mumbles “I love you” against Kurt’s skin, positively beaming when Kurt says the same.
Blaine rolls again, flops onto his back and pulls Kurt half on top of his chest. He’s apparently still a wriggler, and Kurt checks that one off on his list as he daydreams the future, images flashing of sharing a bed together and Blaine hogging the covers and kicking Kurt in his sleep, and Kurt will bitch about it but secretly? He’s looking forward to it already.
Kurt’s head is pillowed on Blaine’s chest, his body draped over Blaine like a blanket. He can feel Blaine’s breath ruffling his hair, just soft puffs as he drifts into sleep again. He reaches up and grabs one of Blaine’s hands, twines their fingers, presses them against Blaine’s chest where he can feel the steady thump of his heart.
Somehow, even in this weird position, they still fit like they were made for each other. Kurt doesn’t know if this feeling of intimate closeness is what it means to be in love, but nestled together with Blaine feels like home, and that might be even better.
---
Please consider spreading holiday cheer by commenting on and/or reblogging this fanfic! If you rec this fic, please be sure to attribute it to anonymous until the author/artist is revealed on January 3rd, 2011. Don’t forget to check out all of the other amazing works that will be posted throughout December!
Recipient: dapperdick
Author: to be revealed January 3rd, 2012
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Word Count: ~1480
Summary: It’s nice, Kurt thinks, as he wraps his body around Blaine, chest pressed to Blaine’s back. Intimate in a way he’d never considered before. If he believes in anything outside of himself, it’s the fan of Blaine’s eyelashes against his cheek and the way he breathes in a slightly stuffy way, like he’ll break out into whuffling snores at any second.
Notes: Happy Holidays, Dapperdick! Prompt used was the song “Kiss Me” by Ed Sheeran, which is also the origin of the title. Humongous thanks to C and E who helped whip this thing into shape! I couldn’t have done it without them.
Blaine has cold feet.
Not metaphorical cold feet with which he leaves Kurt at the alter on their wedding day, but literal cold feet that slide against Kurt’s warm calves and jolt him awake.
It’s only been forty minutes if the clock on his nightstand is any indication, and they’re pressed together from shoulder to hip with legs tangled, like pieces of a very simple puzzle that took forever to lock in place. Fully clothed, too, because they haven’t had time for anything naked since Blaine’s house during West Side Story. It had been overwhelming in the best way possible, like his whole body was a constant flame, but he’d had to leave right after to make it home before Blaine’s parents did. At the moment, he had been relieved to get away before the fire became too much and he burned from the inside out, but as soon as he curled into bed on his own, Kurt yearned to be close to Blaine again.
This they could find a moment for, a slice of precious time at Kurt’s house while Finn is at Rachel’s and Burt and Carole rush out after family dinner for last minute Christmas shopping-- where they are hopefully buying Kurt the Michael Kors sweatshirt that he’d put on his list three times so they’d get the hint.
They’d popped in a movie but quickly ignored it in favor of cuddling, and somehow sleep had happened, gentle kisses melting into soft presses of lips and warm exhales of breath. Blaine had curled up into Kurt’s chest and snuggled into the fabric as Kurt stroked at his hair, lulling them both into dreams.
It’s nice, Kurt thinks, as he wraps his body around Blaine, chest pressed to Blaine’s back. Intimate in a way he’d never considered before. Sure, the sex had been wonderful-- not just physically, though of course it was, sweat and sensation and sensuality swirling together, but emotionally. Kurt had never felt more intimately connected to another person before.
Until now, curled around Blaine snug and tight . If he believes in anything outside of himself, it’s the fan of Blaine’s eyelashes against his cheek and the way he breathes in a slightly stuffy way, like he’ll break out into whuffling snores at any second. Before, Kurt had always thought watching someone sleep was creepy, in a classic Edward-from-Twilight move-- he’d fast-forward through those parts in order to get to scenes with Taylor Lautner as quickly as possible.
There is something strangely intimate about this scene, watching Blaine’s chest rise and fall, watching Blaine rub his cheek against the pillow. If sleeping together was about baring his body, sleeping together is about baring his soul.
Even with cold feet, the second time Kurt sleeps in the same bed as Blaine is much better than the first. He flashes back to that night many months prior with too much alcohol and Blaine drooling all over Kurt’s new expensive pillows, can’t believe it was really less than a year ago because it feels like an entire lifetime.
It had been all kinds of awkward and not sexy in the slightest, sleeping in the same bed as Blaine, from the moment Finn had dumped Blaine onto Kurt’s bed after a tense argument about sleeping arrangements -- which Kurt had won -- until the moment Kurt’s dad caught them together. Even though there was technically nothing to catch.
What was supposed to be a sweet moment in Kurt’s mind turned into the most uncomfortable night of his life, trying to scoot as far away from Blaine as possible even though he’d overtaken nearly the entire bed with his body and snuffled muted snores into Kurt’s pillow like a drowsy starfish.
Their legs had brushed once and Blaine had mumbled happily how warm Kurt was, and after both Jeremiah and Rachel, Kurt lurched backward and slept as far on the other side of the bed as possible.
Now, though -- pressed together intentionally, wonderfully, snuggling into each other underneath the covers, I love yous from earlier still dancing in the air -- is an entirely different experience.
Blaine shifts restlessly, hooking his leg around Kurt’s calves. Kurt thinks he’s waking, too, but it’s a long moment before Blaine mumbles, “What are you thankful for?”
Kurt smiles, because Blaine’s breathing hasn’t changed. Perhaps Blaine talks in his sleep -- he’d done it the last time they’d been in a similar position -- and that sends a wonderful thrill through him, how he doesn’t know for sure, but has all the time in the world to find out.
“It’s not Thanksgiving,” Kurt says, aiming for a superior, haughty tone, though he’s sure what comes out of his mouth is more akin to adorable ribbing. He curls his arms tightly around Blaine’s stomach, hugging them together. “That was a month ago, Blaine.”
Blaine flips himself over -- not sleep-talking this time, at least -- pressing his body against Kurt and nuzzling into the warm hollow where Kurt’s neck meets his chest. He’s smiling, and it’s infectious. “We couldn’t be together on Thanksgiving, though,” he says, voice still thick and drowsy with sleep, as well as muffled into the collar of Kurt’s undershirt. “I was with my family and you were here, which means I never got to hear ‘em.”
“Well,” Kurt begins, running his hands through Blaine’s hair with a gentle scratching motion, “I have a lot to be thankful for this year.”
“Like what?” Blaine asks. He snuggles deeper into Kurt’s chest, throwing his arm over Kurt’s hip to pull them closer together.
“My dad is doing well health-wise,” Kurt begins, removing one hand from Blaine’s hair to tick off the list on his fingers and ignoring Blaine’s pitiful whimper in the process. “No heart attacks, which automatically makes this year fantastic. We also won Sectionals, even with four of our members missing and three of them competing against us. Also, my dad and Carole are out for the evening,” Kurt says after a little pause, smiling as Blaine tilts his head up for a kiss and hums appreciatively against Kurt’s lips.
Blaine pulls back a fraction. “A year ago, I didn’t know what your lips tasted like,” Blaine says as his mouth draws into a lazy smile. “Definitely thankful I do now.”
Kurt chuckles and leans in for another quick peck, pulling away when Blaine tries to deepen it. “Mmm, but you still sang about them.”
Blaine flushes, but exhales a quick laugh against Kurt’s lips. “The real thing is much better than the song.”
Kurt scoffs, though inside he beams at the strange pseudo-compliment. “The song is a classic, Blaine.”
“You’re classic,” Blaine replies in a quick mumble, capturing Kurt’s mouth in a kiss before he can dignify that with a response.
He forgets all about it as Blaine’s tongue presses against his lips, and he lets them open with well-practiced and well-appreciated ease so Blaine can lick into his mouth. It’s sloppy and lazy, noses bumping together and a little too much saliva, but Kurt loves it just the same. There’s no need to hurry when they can just be, believing for a moment that they have all the time in the world to cuddle together and trade sleepy, perfect kisses that are quickly becoming Kurt’s favorite.
Kurt pulls away with a smile, nudges his forehead against Blaine’s so they don’t drift too far apart. “But mostly,” he says, pressing their palms together, “I’m thankful for you. For this--”
linking their fingers together, “--For us.”
Blaine blushes and kisses Kurt on the side of his mouth in a spot that seems to be rapidly becoming Blaine’s favorite. He mumbles “I love you” against Kurt’s skin, positively beaming when Kurt says the same.
Blaine rolls again, flops onto his back and pulls Kurt half on top of his chest. He’s apparently still a wriggler, and Kurt checks that one off on his list as he daydreams the future, images flashing of sharing a bed together and Blaine hogging the covers and kicking Kurt in his sleep, and Kurt will bitch about it but secretly? He’s looking forward to it already.
Kurt’s head is pillowed on Blaine’s chest, his body draped over Blaine like a blanket. He can feel Blaine’s breath ruffling his hair, just soft puffs as he drifts into sleep again. He reaches up and grabs one of Blaine’s hands, twines their fingers, presses them against Blaine’s chest where he can feel the steady thump of his heart.
Somehow, even in this weird position, they still fit like they were made for each other. Kurt doesn’t know if this feeling of intimate closeness is what it means to be in love, but nestled together with Blaine feels like home, and that might be even better.
---
Please consider spreading holiday cheer by commenting on and/or reblogging this fanfic! If you rec this fic, please be sure to attribute it to anonymous until the author/artist is revealed on January 3rd, 2011. Don’t forget to check out all of the other amazing works that will be posted throughout December!