Shine, Chapter Seven
everything after this scene is irrelephant.
THAT EPISODE LAST NIGHT THO ASDIJOKIJUYTREWQAESDRHUIJKJHGVFCDXSZASZDXCFGVBHJKNKMJNBHGVCFDXSZA
No worries, I won't spoil you if you haven't seen it.
previous chapter
The music sounded off. Everything about it sounded off, because his heart wasn't in it anymore. Not the way it had been earlier.
Puck slammed his fingers into the keys, a jumble of discordant sound, then rubbed the side of his neck, grimacing when his fingers came away stained red.
“You should put something on that."
He nearly leapt out of his skin, before spinning around to scowl at whoever had spoken.
There was a yellow-haired woman standing there who he'd never seen before. She was stunning in every way, from the very obviously expensive dress she wore to the dark green of her eyes.
“Who are you?” Puck asked, gruffly.
“My name is Quinn,” the woman said, taking a step forward. “I-I was looking for my sister.”
“You just missed her,” Puck said flatly.
“So I've been made to understand,” Quinn said, softly. She hesitated. “Really. I have something I could put on that. It'll help slow the bleeding and prevent infection.”
He folded his arms, glancing her over before finally nodding. “Fine. Go ahead."
She took the final steps towards him, sitting on the piano bench beside him before reaching into the bag at her hip and withdrawing a small roll of linens.
Puck watched her as she plastered it to his neck, watched the way the sun glinted off her hair.
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Do you have somewhere to stay?”
She looked up, mild surprise coloring her face. “No, actually,” she said, with a small laugh. “I have no idea what I'm doing anymore.”
“You're-you're welcome here,” he said, clearing his throat. “You know, if you need someplace.”
There was another moment of silence before she responded. “Thank you.”
It was dark when the caravan finally rolled to a stop. The witch drew the latch from across the door, grinning to herself as she caught sight of Blaine, sitting in the corner of the cage. She set him on the ground, bending over to speak to him.
Ridiculous and rude, Kurt thought. He can't understand you.
“The wall is one mile that way,” she whispered to him, straightening up. “Though the walk might take you a little longer than normal. Transformation tends to leave the brain a bit scrambled for a while.” She paired the statement with a smug grin, before tapping the bird on the tip of its beak.
It took only seconds for the smoke to billow around the figure on the ground, and for Blaine to emerge from the cloud. He took one look at the woman and drew his sword-and fell to the ground.
Kurt dropped to his knees immediately to pull him up, glaring at the woman as he did so.
“I warned you,” the woman said, disdain clear in her voice. “Save your strength.”
She was gone before Kurt could do more than glare angrily after her.
He turned back to Blaine, cupping the man's face in his hands. “I've been so worried about you,” he said, gently, stroking a thumb across one of Blaine's cheekbones.
A silly grin split Blaine's face. “Rachel,” he said.
The smile fell from Kurt's. “I think I preferred 'father,'” he said, flatly. He sighed. “Come on. There's an inn over there; we can stay there tonight. Rachel's birthday's not until tomorrow. I think I need a bath and you need a good night's sleep before you present me to her.”
He led Blaine to the Slaughtered Prince (nice name for an inn), dumping him onto the single bed in their room (trying not to think too hard about that-and failing). He waited until he was certain Blaine was unconscious before stripping himself of his clothing, giving it a quick scrub, and hanging it out to dry.
Blaine had had a bath more recently than he had, so he only removed Blaine's rather dirty overcoat to wash.
Afterwards, he climbed into the bathtub, letting out a sigh as he sank into the warm water.
It was only then that he finally allowed himself to really think about what had happened over the past two weeks, and what he'd said in the caravan.
Blaine was unlike anyone he'd ever met. Unlike anyone he was sure he'd ever meet again. And Kurt knew that, and thought of all of the positive qualities about Blaine's personality that made him so attractive.
But Kurt was naked, in the bath, and he was male, and it wasn't long before his mind slipped to thoughts of Blaine's body-the way he'd looked when he was shirtless and tan and sweating under the sun, the way the lines of his back were hard and sharp and noticeable, even now, underneath a vest and a shirt.
Kurt groaned, tipping his head back against the tub as he gave himself in to the deluge of images that suddenly poured into his mind.
Some were innocent-waking up next to Blaine, both of them curled together, cuddling into him as they watched the stars blink into light-but most weren't. Most were Blaine's body moving against his own, Blaine's voice choking out his name, Blaine's fingers inside him or-he gave a delighted shudder-his fingers in Blaine. Their limbs intertwined. Their gasps mingling together.
His hand crept down his stomach, down to where all the blood in his body was rapidly rushing.
“Excuse me?” a voice said. Blaine's voice.
Kurt's eyes flew open and he choked a little, splashing in the water.
“I think you're in my bath.” Blaine's voice was foolish, silly, and so very Blaine.
“Don't look at me,” Kurt snapped, and waited until Blaine had turned away before pulling a towel from the rack.
“All right, you can open your eyes now,” he said, once the towel was firmly fixed around his hips.
He and Blaine exchanged a small smile (a little sheepish on Blaine's part) before Kurt turned to the mirror, combing through his wet hair.
Blaine could feel his heartbeat in his throat. He wet his lips, forced his mouth open.
“Did you really mean what you said in the caravan?” he asked, his tone conversational.
Kurt froze.
His heart froze with him.
“But-but you were a bird! You were a bird, you wanted seeds!”
Blaine laughed, light and carefree and happy because it was true. He hadn't imagined any of it, it was true, Kurt wanted him, Kurt loved him.
Kurt hid his face in his hands. “I asked you to give me a sign,” he said through his fingers.
“And stop you from saying such lovely things?” Blaine's fingers were on Kurt's hands, gently prying them away from Kurt's face. He held them gently in his own hands.
“Look at me,” he said, quietly.
Kurt's eyes met his, his expression terrified.
“You move me, Kurt.”
Kurt stared at him, his eyes uncomprehending, breath caught on the inhale.
“Do you-do you understand what I'm trying to say?” Blaine asked, hesitantly.
Slowly, Kurt shook his head. His eyes were so full of hope that Blaine's heart absolutely ached with the desire to just lean up and kiss him, to explain in that way exactly how much he felt for Kurt. But he had to make Kurt understand with words, because this was important. This was the most important thing Blaine had ever done in his eighteen years of life.
“Do you know what Captain Puckerman really whispered to me that time?"
Kurt nodded, breathless.
“He told me that my true love was right in front of my eyes.”
There it was. Kurt was glowing-only a very small amount, as if he was trying so hard not to hope-but glowing, nonetheless.
“And he was right,” Blaine whispered, his thumb brushing Kurt's cheek, and then he was leaning up.
Their lips met.
Their first kiss was uncertain, because Kurt was still in shock, and because Blaine still didn't much know what he was doing. He wasn't used to leaning up to kiss someone, and he found he liked it, liked the way he had to tilt his head back just slightly for a better angle.
Kurt's hand fluttered against Blaine's chest, then both flew up to cup Blaine's face and he was kissing back. Kurt was kissing Blaine, and that was his tongue tracing Blaine's lips, and oh-he sucked Blaine's lower lip into his mouth.
Blaine's hands gripped the edge of the towel. He forced himself not to just rip it off, teased himself by running his fingers along the edge of the cloth.
Kurt's mouth left his, sliding down his neck to suck on the skin at the hollow of his throat. Blaine tipped his head back further, clutching Kurt's towel in his hands and struggling to breathe as Kurt's hands slid down to cup his ass.
“I love you,” Kurt breathed against his neck, his hands gliding feather-light up Blaine's back to his shoulder blades. “So much, Blaine--”
“Kurt-” Blaine drew in a breath, deep and shuddering. “Please, Kurt, bed--”
Kurt drew back a little, examining him with glowing eyes. “Do you know what you're--”
“I talked to Wes and David, asked them some questions-please--”
“I-yes,” Kurt whispered, and Blaine's hands pulled the towel away from Kurt.
His breath caught.
This-this. How could he ever have thought himself capable of being interested in women when there was a being like this around? How could he even look at someone like Rachel when there was someone like Kurt standing beside her, outshining her in every way?
“Blaine?” Kurt asked, his voice slightly shaky.
“You are so beautiful,” Blaine breathed, and Kurt's eyes widened.
“I--”
“Teach me,” Blaine said, his hand reaching out, just to touch, to see if this was real.
It was.
Kurt sucked in a sharp breath as Blaine's hand wrapped around him. “Lie down,” he said, his voice shaky.
“Yes,” Blaine said, scrambling to the bed, nearly tripping in his haste and his reluctance to tear his eyes from Kurt. He pushed himself onto the bed, sliding backwards until his head fell to the pillow.
“How much do you know?” Kurt breathed. He seemed to be entranced with Blaine's legs-he was running his hands up and down them, cupping them gently with the palms of his hands.
He was glowing, a soft white shine that dragged a slight whimper from Blaine's throat.
“I know where-what to do,” Blaine said, softly. “They were nice when they told me. They weren't crude.”
Kurt crawled up beside him on the bed, sliding a hand over his hip and kissing him soft and slow. He rubbed his nose against Blaine's once before pulling away, smiling widely at the giddy grin on Blaine's face. “Did they tell you how amazing it can feel?”
“Have you done... this before?” Blaine asked, his voice uncertain.
Kurt's hand skimmed up his back, sliding around to rest just behind Blaine's shoulder. “No,” he said. “You-you are-the only--” he sighed, leaning forward to press his lips to Blaine's once more. “You are the only,” he said, firmly, holding Blaine's gaze.
Blaine's breath caught.
It didn't matter how much he looked at Kurt, he still couldn't believe how extraordinarily gorgeous he was. He wondered how he hadn't known immediately that Kurt was something other than human when he'd first run into him. The way his eyes shone in that beautiful-strange shade of gray-blue-green, the pale white glow of his flawless skin, the perfect little tilt of his nose, the sharp cut of his jawline, the quirk of his lips when he smiled, the way his cheeks dimpled when he laughed...
“You're staring,” Kurt said, softly.
“There's so much to stare at,” Blaine murmured, lifting a hand to slide it into Kurt's softly glowing hair. “You're amazing.”
Color rose on Kurt's cheeks.
He let his hands slide down to explore Kurt's body, slipping over Kurt's shoulders, shoulders he'd been fixated on since they'd dueled each other on Captain Puckerman's ship. He let his fingers trace down Kurt's spine, and when his nails dragged he felt Kurt suck in a sharp breath.
He tilted his head down to press a soft kiss against Kurt's shoulder.
“You're wearing far too much clothing,” Kurt said, quietly, his hands coming up to rest against Blaine's collar. “Do you mind if I--”
“Please do,” Blaine said, and he almost didn't care about how needy his voice sounded, because Kurt's fingers were slipping the buttons on his shirt from their buttonholes, slowly pushing the shirt off his shoulders and chest until it slid off Blaine completely, settling beneath him on the bed.
Any self-doubt he'd had about how he would look unclothed compared to Kurt vanished as Kurt's gaze fell on him. The other man looked hungry, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he ran his eyes over Blaine's body.
He shifted his gaze back to Blaine's face, and offered him a half-smile before tugging at the waistband of Blaine's trousers. “I think these have to go, too,” he said, flicking at the buttons that helped to keep them up. Blaine fumbled at waistband as he tried frantically to unfasten them.
Kurt's breathing halted when Blaine finally pushed the trousers down around his ankles before kicking them off.
“You are beautiful, Blaine,” he said, letting his eyes sweep slowly down Blaine's body, before he blushed and looked away. “I-I thought I would be more uncertain than I am about this. I've never been like this with anyone before.”
His arm slid around Blaine's waist, his hand pressing to the small of Blaine's back, their legs tangling together, their breath intermingling.
“I've never been more sure about anything, though,” he said, and there was wonder in his eyes. “I want to make love to you, Blaine. If you'll let me.”
His eyes were so wide, so sincere, so full of love, that it took Blaine a moment to answer. All he could do was nod.
Kurt's breath huffed out in a relieved sigh, and he lifted one hand to brush it across Blaine's curls. His fingers were shaking.
“I've never done this,” he said, quietly. “I know what I'm doing in theory, but not experience-wise. You need to tell me if I'm hurting you, or if you want to stop.”
“I trust you,” Blaine said, and it seemed to be the simplicity of the statement that moved Kurt the most.
“Try to relax,” Kurt breathed, leaning in to kiss him. For a moment, his hands didn't touch Blaine, then one came up to cup Blaine's cheek, and the other-slippery and wet-slid down, pressing gently against him.
“Breathe,” Kurt whispered against his mouth, and Blaine gasped against his mouth as one of Kurt's fingers slowly slid inside.
It was slow. He'd expected the slight burn-Wes and David had informed him of that-but that didn't mean he was prepared for it. He clutched Kurt's shoulders as Kurt worked him slowly, as the slight burn and stretch slowly faded into something more, something that left him aching and wanting and yearning.
Kurt was pressing damp kisses against his chest, his throat, as his fingers moved slowly inside Blaine, and Blaine felt like he was going to burst from all that he was feeling.
Kurt was slow, and patient, and by the time he had three fingers inside Blaine, Blaine was a panting, babbling mess, clinging to Kurt's biceps and staring up at him with wide, dark eyes. Kurt was shaking, glowing even more brightly than before, when he leaned down to kiss Blaine.
Their lips moved soft and slow together, more certain than they had been before. Kurt's tongue slowly traced Blaine's lips, and Blaine let his mouth fall open, let Kurt take his mouth however he wanted.
Blaine broke the kiss, curling his hands tight around Kurt's shoulders and letting out a broken moan as Kurt's fingers twisted inside him. “I love you,” he panted.
“I love you, too,” Kurt whispered, and his glow brightened until it nearly hurt Blaine's eyes to look at him, he was so radiant.
He had to close his eyes against the sheer volume of feelings that rose up in him-feelings about the way Kurt shuddered every time Blaine made even the smallest of noises, feelings about the way Kurt stared down at him, an expression of awe and rapture coloring his face, feelings about the way the fingers of the hand that wasn't inside him stroked ever-so-gently down his side.
His hands slid up to cup Kurt's neck, and he pushed himself against Kurt's hand, aching for more.
“I need you,” he whispered brokenly. “Please.”
The kiss that Kurt leaned forward to give him was unexpectedly gentle and warm. He made a choked-off noise when Kurt's fingers slipped out of him.
Kurt's eyelashes brushed against his cheek, feather-light. “I'll go slowly,” he said softly as he lifted Blaine's legs slightly.
They were tangled together, closer than Blaine had ever been with anyone before, closer than he'd ever wanted to be with anyone before Kurt.
And then Kurt was there, pressing in, and it was slow and a little uncomfortable and a little painful, and it took a few tries, but he was there. And suddenly, Blaine could breathe.
Kurt was watching his face anxiously, his hand cupping Blaine's cheek, and all Blaine wanted was for Kurt to move, to be there. All he wanted was to feel Kurt, really feel him and only him for the rest of his life.
He locked his arms around Kurt, leaning up as far as he could. “Kiss me,” he begged, and he could hear the desperation in his voice.
Kurt seemed as desperate as he was, meeting Blaine halfway in a kiss that melted Blaine into the mattress, a kiss that was tongue and lip and white-hot want.
“I want you,” Blaine said, against his lips, and Kurt let out a startled moan. “All of you, every minute, every day, Kurt, I want you.”
Kurt rolled his hips, a languid movement that left Blaine gasping into his shoulder and clutching at the bedsheets.
“Please,” he begged.
“Anything,” Kurt promised, his voice strained, and his hips rolled harder, stuttering into a slow rhythm.
His legs wrapped around Kurt, pulling him closer, even though he was as close as he could possibly be. “Don't stop,” he breathed, and then he couldn't say more, because the breath was pulled from him with another roll of Kurt's hips.
“I won't.” Kurt's promise was a moan, and it made Blaine's stomach twist up, although that also could have been the fact that Kurt's eyes hadn't strayed from his. The fact that Kurt was looking him in the eye while they did this, was most certainly thinking of him, and not anyone else. The fact that Kurt had confessed, oh-so-beautifully, how hopelessly in love with Blaine he was. The fact that he, and only he, would ever get to see Kurt like this, so wrecked and flushed and needy.
The fact that someone like Kurt-someone so amazing and talented and beautiful and intelligent and snarky and handsome and witty and unreal as he was-would ever want someone like him, let alone love someone like him.
Kurt's lips brushed his neck, and he gasped as Kurt moved inside him, his hands pressed tight to the underside of Blaine's thighs.
“I love you so much,” Kurt murmured against his skin, and that was what did it for him, that was what sent him over the edge. He shook in Kurt's grasp, arching against Kurt's chest and crying out Kurt's name.
Kurt fell with him, going still inside him and pressing down against him, a breathless cry of Blaine's name breaking from his throat.
They lay together like that, still for a few moments.
Blaine began to laugh.
Kurt pulled out and away slowly, the hurt expression on his face not dissipating even as Blaine's laugh shifted to a wince.
“What, pray tell, do you find so humorous?” he asked.
“Just...” Blaine shook his head, reaching up to cup Kurt's cheek, eyes dark and serious. “I've been looking for you forever."
“You're very close,” Azimio said. “He's in the market town. One mile from the gap in the wall.”
“You say that as if it's good news,” Karofsky growled, folding his arms. “Do I need to remind you that Wall is not part of our universe? If he crosses into Wall, into the human world, our star becomes nothing more than a god-damned rock.”
“Then I suggest you hurry up.”
next chapter
THAT EPISODE LAST NIGHT THO ASDIJOKIJUYTREWQAESDRHUIJKJHGVFCDXSZASZDXCFGVBHJKNKMJNBHGVCFDXSZA
No worries, I won't spoil you if you haven't seen it.
previous chapter
The music sounded off. Everything about it sounded off, because his heart wasn't in it anymore. Not the way it had been earlier.
Puck slammed his fingers into the keys, a jumble of discordant sound, then rubbed the side of his neck, grimacing when his fingers came away stained red.
“You should put something on that."
He nearly leapt out of his skin, before spinning around to scowl at whoever had spoken.
There was a yellow-haired woman standing there who he'd never seen before. She was stunning in every way, from the very obviously expensive dress she wore to the dark green of her eyes.
“Who are you?” Puck asked, gruffly.
“My name is Quinn,” the woman said, taking a step forward. “I-I was looking for my sister.”
“You just missed her,” Puck said flatly.
“So I've been made to understand,” Quinn said, softly. She hesitated. “Really. I have something I could put on that. It'll help slow the bleeding and prevent infection.”
He folded his arms, glancing her over before finally nodding. “Fine. Go ahead."
She took the final steps towards him, sitting on the piano bench beside him before reaching into the bag at her hip and withdrawing a small roll of linens.
Puck watched her as she plastered it to his neck, watched the way the sun glinted off her hair.
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Do you have somewhere to stay?”
She looked up, mild surprise coloring her face. “No, actually,” she said, with a small laugh. “I have no idea what I'm doing anymore.”
“You're-you're welcome here,” he said, clearing his throat. “You know, if you need someplace.”
There was another moment of silence before she responded. “Thank you.”
It was dark when the caravan finally rolled to a stop. The witch drew the latch from across the door, grinning to herself as she caught sight of Blaine, sitting in the corner of the cage. She set him on the ground, bending over to speak to him.
Ridiculous and rude, Kurt thought. He can't understand you.
“The wall is one mile that way,” she whispered to him, straightening up. “Though the walk might take you a little longer than normal. Transformation tends to leave the brain a bit scrambled for a while.” She paired the statement with a smug grin, before tapping the bird on the tip of its beak.
It took only seconds for the smoke to billow around the figure on the ground, and for Blaine to emerge from the cloud. He took one look at the woman and drew his sword-and fell to the ground.
Kurt dropped to his knees immediately to pull him up, glaring at the woman as he did so.
“I warned you,” the woman said, disdain clear in her voice. “Save your strength.”
She was gone before Kurt could do more than glare angrily after her.
He turned back to Blaine, cupping the man's face in his hands. “I've been so worried about you,” he said, gently, stroking a thumb across one of Blaine's cheekbones.
A silly grin split Blaine's face. “Rachel,” he said.
The smile fell from Kurt's. “I think I preferred 'father,'” he said, flatly. He sighed. “Come on. There's an inn over there; we can stay there tonight. Rachel's birthday's not until tomorrow. I think I need a bath and you need a good night's sleep before you present me to her.”
He led Blaine to the Slaughtered Prince (nice name for an inn), dumping him onto the single bed in their room (trying not to think too hard about that-and failing). He waited until he was certain Blaine was unconscious before stripping himself of his clothing, giving it a quick scrub, and hanging it out to dry.
Blaine had had a bath more recently than he had, so he only removed Blaine's rather dirty overcoat to wash.
Afterwards, he climbed into the bathtub, letting out a sigh as he sank into the warm water.
It was only then that he finally allowed himself to really think about what had happened over the past two weeks, and what he'd said in the caravan.
Blaine was unlike anyone he'd ever met. Unlike anyone he was sure he'd ever meet again. And Kurt knew that, and thought of all of the positive qualities about Blaine's personality that made him so attractive.
But Kurt was naked, in the bath, and he was male, and it wasn't long before his mind slipped to thoughts of Blaine's body-the way he'd looked when he was shirtless and tan and sweating under the sun, the way the lines of his back were hard and sharp and noticeable, even now, underneath a vest and a shirt.
Kurt groaned, tipping his head back against the tub as he gave himself in to the deluge of images that suddenly poured into his mind.
Some were innocent-waking up next to Blaine, both of them curled together, cuddling into him as they watched the stars blink into light-but most weren't. Most were Blaine's body moving against his own, Blaine's voice choking out his name, Blaine's fingers inside him or-he gave a delighted shudder-his fingers in Blaine. Their limbs intertwined. Their gasps mingling together.
His hand crept down his stomach, down to where all the blood in his body was rapidly rushing.
“Excuse me?” a voice said. Blaine's voice.
Kurt's eyes flew open and he choked a little, splashing in the water.
“I think you're in my bath.” Blaine's voice was foolish, silly, and so very Blaine.
“Don't look at me,” Kurt snapped, and waited until Blaine had turned away before pulling a towel from the rack.
“All right, you can open your eyes now,” he said, once the towel was firmly fixed around his hips.
He and Blaine exchanged a small smile (a little sheepish on Blaine's part) before Kurt turned to the mirror, combing through his wet hair.
Blaine could feel his heartbeat in his throat. He wet his lips, forced his mouth open.
“Did you really mean what you said in the caravan?” he asked, his tone conversational.
Kurt froze.
His heart froze with him.
“But-but you were a bird! You were a bird, you wanted seeds!”
Blaine laughed, light and carefree and happy because it was true. He hadn't imagined any of it, it was true, Kurt wanted him, Kurt loved him.
Kurt hid his face in his hands. “I asked you to give me a sign,” he said through his fingers.
“And stop you from saying such lovely things?” Blaine's fingers were on Kurt's hands, gently prying them away from Kurt's face. He held them gently in his own hands.
“Look at me,” he said, quietly.
Kurt's eyes met his, his expression terrified.
“You move me, Kurt.”
Kurt stared at him, his eyes uncomprehending, breath caught on the inhale.
“Do you-do you understand what I'm trying to say?” Blaine asked, hesitantly.
Slowly, Kurt shook his head. His eyes were so full of hope that Blaine's heart absolutely ached with the desire to just lean up and kiss him, to explain in that way exactly how much he felt for Kurt. But he had to make Kurt understand with words, because this was important. This was the most important thing Blaine had ever done in his eighteen years of life.
“Do you know what Captain Puckerman really whispered to me that time?"
Kurt nodded, breathless.
“He told me that my true love was right in front of my eyes.”
There it was. Kurt was glowing-only a very small amount, as if he was trying so hard not to hope-but glowing, nonetheless.
“And he was right,” Blaine whispered, his thumb brushing Kurt's cheek, and then he was leaning up.
Their lips met.
Their first kiss was uncertain, because Kurt was still in shock, and because Blaine still didn't much know what he was doing. He wasn't used to leaning up to kiss someone, and he found he liked it, liked the way he had to tilt his head back just slightly for a better angle.
Kurt's hand fluttered against Blaine's chest, then both flew up to cup Blaine's face and he was kissing back. Kurt was kissing Blaine, and that was his tongue tracing Blaine's lips, and oh-he sucked Blaine's lower lip into his mouth.
Blaine's hands gripped the edge of the towel. He forced himself not to just rip it off, teased himself by running his fingers along the edge of the cloth.
Kurt's mouth left his, sliding down his neck to suck on the skin at the hollow of his throat. Blaine tipped his head back further, clutching Kurt's towel in his hands and struggling to breathe as Kurt's hands slid down to cup his ass.
“I love you,” Kurt breathed against his neck, his hands gliding feather-light up Blaine's back to his shoulder blades. “So much, Blaine--”
“Kurt-” Blaine drew in a breath, deep and shuddering. “Please, Kurt, bed--”
Kurt drew back a little, examining him with glowing eyes. “Do you know what you're--”
“I talked to Wes and David, asked them some questions-please--”
“I-yes,” Kurt whispered, and Blaine's hands pulled the towel away from Kurt.
His breath caught.
This-this. How could he ever have thought himself capable of being interested in women when there was a being like this around? How could he even look at someone like Rachel when there was someone like Kurt standing beside her, outshining her in every way?
“Blaine?” Kurt asked, his voice slightly shaky.
“You are so beautiful,” Blaine breathed, and Kurt's eyes widened.
“I--”
“Teach me,” Blaine said, his hand reaching out, just to touch, to see if this was real.
It was.
Kurt sucked in a sharp breath as Blaine's hand wrapped around him. “Lie down,” he said, his voice shaky.
“Yes,” Blaine said, scrambling to the bed, nearly tripping in his haste and his reluctance to tear his eyes from Kurt. He pushed himself onto the bed, sliding backwards until his head fell to the pillow.
“How much do you know?” Kurt breathed. He seemed to be entranced with Blaine's legs-he was running his hands up and down them, cupping them gently with the palms of his hands.
He was glowing, a soft white shine that dragged a slight whimper from Blaine's throat.
“I know where-what to do,” Blaine said, softly. “They were nice when they told me. They weren't crude.”
Kurt crawled up beside him on the bed, sliding a hand over his hip and kissing him soft and slow. He rubbed his nose against Blaine's once before pulling away, smiling widely at the giddy grin on Blaine's face. “Did they tell you how amazing it can feel?”
“Have you done... this before?” Blaine asked, his voice uncertain.
Kurt's hand skimmed up his back, sliding around to rest just behind Blaine's shoulder. “No,” he said. “You-you are-the only--” he sighed, leaning forward to press his lips to Blaine's once more. “You are the only,” he said, firmly, holding Blaine's gaze.
Blaine's breath caught.
It didn't matter how much he looked at Kurt, he still couldn't believe how extraordinarily gorgeous he was. He wondered how he hadn't known immediately that Kurt was something other than human when he'd first run into him. The way his eyes shone in that beautiful-strange shade of gray-blue-green, the pale white glow of his flawless skin, the perfect little tilt of his nose, the sharp cut of his jawline, the quirk of his lips when he smiled, the way his cheeks dimpled when he laughed...
“You're staring,” Kurt said, softly.
“There's so much to stare at,” Blaine murmured, lifting a hand to slide it into Kurt's softly glowing hair. “You're amazing.”
Color rose on Kurt's cheeks.
He let his hands slide down to explore Kurt's body, slipping over Kurt's shoulders, shoulders he'd been fixated on since they'd dueled each other on Captain Puckerman's ship. He let his fingers trace down Kurt's spine, and when his nails dragged he felt Kurt suck in a sharp breath.
He tilted his head down to press a soft kiss against Kurt's shoulder.
“You're wearing far too much clothing,” Kurt said, quietly, his hands coming up to rest against Blaine's collar. “Do you mind if I--”
“Please do,” Blaine said, and he almost didn't care about how needy his voice sounded, because Kurt's fingers were slipping the buttons on his shirt from their buttonholes, slowly pushing the shirt off his shoulders and chest until it slid off Blaine completely, settling beneath him on the bed.
Any self-doubt he'd had about how he would look unclothed compared to Kurt vanished as Kurt's gaze fell on him. The other man looked hungry, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he ran his eyes over Blaine's body.
He shifted his gaze back to Blaine's face, and offered him a half-smile before tugging at the waistband of Blaine's trousers. “I think these have to go, too,” he said, flicking at the buttons that helped to keep them up. Blaine fumbled at waistband as he tried frantically to unfasten them.
Kurt's breathing halted when Blaine finally pushed the trousers down around his ankles before kicking them off.
“You are beautiful, Blaine,” he said, letting his eyes sweep slowly down Blaine's body, before he blushed and looked away. “I-I thought I would be more uncertain than I am about this. I've never been like this with anyone before.”
His arm slid around Blaine's waist, his hand pressing to the small of Blaine's back, their legs tangling together, their breath intermingling.
“I've never been more sure about anything, though,” he said, and there was wonder in his eyes. “I want to make love to you, Blaine. If you'll let me.”
His eyes were so wide, so sincere, so full of love, that it took Blaine a moment to answer. All he could do was nod.
Kurt's breath huffed out in a relieved sigh, and he lifted one hand to brush it across Blaine's curls. His fingers were shaking.
“I've never done this,” he said, quietly. “I know what I'm doing in theory, but not experience-wise. You need to tell me if I'm hurting you, or if you want to stop.”
“I trust you,” Blaine said, and it seemed to be the simplicity of the statement that moved Kurt the most.
“Try to relax,” Kurt breathed, leaning in to kiss him. For a moment, his hands didn't touch Blaine, then one came up to cup Blaine's cheek, and the other-slippery and wet-slid down, pressing gently against him.
“Breathe,” Kurt whispered against his mouth, and Blaine gasped against his mouth as one of Kurt's fingers slowly slid inside.
It was slow. He'd expected the slight burn-Wes and David had informed him of that-but that didn't mean he was prepared for it. He clutched Kurt's shoulders as Kurt worked him slowly, as the slight burn and stretch slowly faded into something more, something that left him aching and wanting and yearning.
Kurt was pressing damp kisses against his chest, his throat, as his fingers moved slowly inside Blaine, and Blaine felt like he was going to burst from all that he was feeling.
Kurt was slow, and patient, and by the time he had three fingers inside Blaine, Blaine was a panting, babbling mess, clinging to Kurt's biceps and staring up at him with wide, dark eyes. Kurt was shaking, glowing even more brightly than before, when he leaned down to kiss Blaine.
Their lips moved soft and slow together, more certain than they had been before. Kurt's tongue slowly traced Blaine's lips, and Blaine let his mouth fall open, let Kurt take his mouth however he wanted.
Blaine broke the kiss, curling his hands tight around Kurt's shoulders and letting out a broken moan as Kurt's fingers twisted inside him. “I love you,” he panted.
“I love you, too,” Kurt whispered, and his glow brightened until it nearly hurt Blaine's eyes to look at him, he was so radiant.
He had to close his eyes against the sheer volume of feelings that rose up in him-feelings about the way Kurt shuddered every time Blaine made even the smallest of noises, feelings about the way Kurt stared down at him, an expression of awe and rapture coloring his face, feelings about the way the fingers of the hand that wasn't inside him stroked ever-so-gently down his side.
His hands slid up to cup Kurt's neck, and he pushed himself against Kurt's hand, aching for more.
“I need you,” he whispered brokenly. “Please.”
The kiss that Kurt leaned forward to give him was unexpectedly gentle and warm. He made a choked-off noise when Kurt's fingers slipped out of him.
Kurt's eyelashes brushed against his cheek, feather-light. “I'll go slowly,” he said softly as he lifted Blaine's legs slightly.
They were tangled together, closer than Blaine had ever been with anyone before, closer than he'd ever wanted to be with anyone before Kurt.
And then Kurt was there, pressing in, and it was slow and a little uncomfortable and a little painful, and it took a few tries, but he was there. And suddenly, Blaine could breathe.
Kurt was watching his face anxiously, his hand cupping Blaine's cheek, and all Blaine wanted was for Kurt to move, to be there. All he wanted was to feel Kurt, really feel him and only him for the rest of his life.
He locked his arms around Kurt, leaning up as far as he could. “Kiss me,” he begged, and he could hear the desperation in his voice.
Kurt seemed as desperate as he was, meeting Blaine halfway in a kiss that melted Blaine into the mattress, a kiss that was tongue and lip and white-hot want.
“I want you,” Blaine said, against his lips, and Kurt let out a startled moan. “All of you, every minute, every day, Kurt, I want you.”
Kurt rolled his hips, a languid movement that left Blaine gasping into his shoulder and clutching at the bedsheets.
“Please,” he begged.
“Anything,” Kurt promised, his voice strained, and his hips rolled harder, stuttering into a slow rhythm.
His legs wrapped around Kurt, pulling him closer, even though he was as close as he could possibly be. “Don't stop,” he breathed, and then he couldn't say more, because the breath was pulled from him with another roll of Kurt's hips.
“I won't.” Kurt's promise was a moan, and it made Blaine's stomach twist up, although that also could have been the fact that Kurt's eyes hadn't strayed from his. The fact that Kurt was looking him in the eye while they did this, was most certainly thinking of him, and not anyone else. The fact that Kurt had confessed, oh-so-beautifully, how hopelessly in love with Blaine he was. The fact that he, and only he, would ever get to see Kurt like this, so wrecked and flushed and needy.
The fact that someone like Kurt-someone so amazing and talented and beautiful and intelligent and snarky and handsome and witty and unreal as he was-would ever want someone like him, let alone love someone like him.
Kurt's lips brushed his neck, and he gasped as Kurt moved inside him, his hands pressed tight to the underside of Blaine's thighs.
“I love you so much,” Kurt murmured against his skin, and that was what did it for him, that was what sent him over the edge. He shook in Kurt's grasp, arching against Kurt's chest and crying out Kurt's name.
Kurt fell with him, going still inside him and pressing down against him, a breathless cry of Blaine's name breaking from his throat.
They lay together like that, still for a few moments.
Blaine began to laugh.
Kurt pulled out and away slowly, the hurt expression on his face not dissipating even as Blaine's laugh shifted to a wince.
“What, pray tell, do you find so humorous?” he asked.
“Just...” Blaine shook his head, reaching up to cup Kurt's cheek, eyes dark and serious. “I've been looking for you forever."
“You're very close,” Azimio said. “He's in the market town. One mile from the gap in the wall.”
“You say that as if it's good news,” Karofsky growled, folding his arms. “Do I need to remind you that Wall is not part of our universe? If he crosses into Wall, into the human world, our star becomes nothing more than a god-damned rock.”
“Then I suggest you hurry up.”
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