Fic: The Twelfth Rose
Title: The Twelfth Rose
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: M
Word Count: 3,667
Spoilers: Spoilers and (likely very wrong) speculation for 3x11 “Michael” and 3x13 “Heart”
Warnings: Language. Frottage. The very, very slightest dom!Kurt, sub!Blaine.
Summary: You didn’t think Blaine would only give Kurt eleven roses for Valentine’s Day, did you? Here’s what happens when Kurt gets his twelfth rose. Sequel to Eleven Roses. (You kind of need to read that first.)
Author’s Note: So, I had no intention of writing a sequel to Eleven Roses. But then some lovely commenters were wondering about the twelfth rose in the dozen, and my mind wandered and this happened. I don’t do smut very often, so I’ve sandwiched it around heaps of fluff.
Thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed Eleven Roses, and for all the comments and recs and reblogs! I <3 every single one of you.
(Also posted on Tumblr and Scarves & Coffee)
***
“You must know. Surely you must know, it was all for you.”
Blaine sighed happily as he watched Mr. Darcy proclaim his love for Elizabeth in a misty English meadow. He’d kept a steady stream of romantic movies playing all day long - Casablanca, Shakespeare in Love, An Officer and A Gentleman, and now Pride and Prejudice - to distract himself from agonizing over the fact that he was missing his first Valentine’s Day with Kurt. Kurt as his boyfriend, that is.
For nearly a year, Blaine had eagerly anticipated this day. It was his favorite holiday, after all, and having Kurt to share it with made his thoughts even more precious. He’d spent hours daydreaming about the perfect words, the romantic gifts he could offer to profess his love - and to make up for the awful mess he’d caused last year.
He wasn’t going to be an oblivious idiot anymore, he thought, rolling his eyes at his own brazen stupidity. Not when it came to sentimental holidays, at least.
Needless to say, being stuck in bed with a concussion had never factored into any of his dreams. Instead of roaming the halls arm-in-arm with Kurt, presenting him with a rose and a sweet speech in between each class, Blaine was bedridden, clinging to his last threads of patience after being trapped inside four walls for a week and a half. All of his fanciful Valentine’s Day ideas had shattered that fateful moment he’d clumsily hit his head against hard, cold concrete.
Hopefully, things would get better soon. Kurt would be over any moment, if the picture text he’d sent twenty minutes ago was any indication. Blaine already had When Harry Met Sally waiting on his nightstand - alongside a single red rose, perched in a plain glass tumbler full of water. Not that they hadn’t watched the movie a thousand times since they started dating. But it was still a sentimental favorite. And Valentine’s Day was nothing if not a day to indulge in sentimentality.
Blaine tore his eyes from the rising sun behind Keira Knightley’s lithe silhouette to pull up the beautiful picture on his phone once again: Kurt’s rose - the rose he gave him - lying against his windshield, covered with lightly glistening ice. Blaine had hoped his surprise would be a hit, but Kurt’s short caption - “Best Valentine’s Day ever” - made his heart flip-flop in his chest.
Whenever he felt like he could do so, so much better, Kurt always made him feel like he was good enough.
Blaine heard a knock on his bedroom door just as the movie credits began to roll. As he hit stop on the remote, the door cracked open and Kurt peeked his head through. A huge grin blossomed on his face when the two locked eyes.
“Hey, you,” Blaine greeted him, mirroring Kurt’s happy smile.
Kurt practically skipped over to the bed, lightly plopping himself down on the edge and scooting his hip flush against Blaine’s. Wordlessly, he grabbed Blaine’s face between his hands and leaned down to take his lips in a fiery kiss.
Blaine couldn’t stop the moan that escaped from his throat as Kurt tugged his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking lightly on the flesh before coaxing Blaine’s mouth open with his tongue. Blaine felt the love, the longing, the happiness Kurt poured into the hot, wet melding of lips. This, this is what he’d been looking forward to all day.
They were both breathless when Kurt finally pulled away. “Hi,” he whispered hoarsely through another smile, their faces just inches apart. “I’ve been waiting all day to do that.”
“Ditto,” Blaine remarked delightedly. He felt like he’d never be able to wipe the goofy grin off his face. “Did my mom let you in?”
“Yeah. They were on their way out.”
“They’re going out to dinner for Valentine’s Day.”
“Cute.”
“So are you.” Blaine let his gaze drop down to Kurt’s red tie. He reached out to finger the bright, silky material before looking back up into sparkling blue eyes.
“How are you feeling?” Kurt rubbed his thumb along the edge of Blaine’s forehead, down to his temple.
“Better today,” Blaine admitted. It was the first day since the accident that his throbbing headaches had subsided to a dull - albeit constant - ache.
“Good. I can’t wait for you to come back to school.” Kurt pushed the covers aside and crawled into the space between Blaine’s legs, sliding up so their bodies were flat against each other. He propped his chin up on his arms, folded atop Blaine’s chest. “I missed you so much today.”
Blaine stroked Kurt’s left cheek with his knuckles; the soft skin still pink and icy from the raw February cold. “I’m sorry. You don’t know how badly I wanted to be there with you.”
“Don’t apologize. I mean, I wanted you there, too. But…” Another bright grin broke out on Kurt’s face. “I loved your surprise. I’ve never been so happy.”
Blaine swallowed down the joy that swelled in his heart. “Well.” He turned to look at his nightstand; an exaggerated glance that had Kurt following his gaze. “I’m not done yet.” Blaine reached over and plucked the rose from its glass, shaking off little drops of water before offering it to Kurt with a pleased smile. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Kurt.”
Kurt’s mouth parted in surprise. “Another one?” he asked, wonder in his voice as he propped himself up on an elbow to accept the flower.
Blaine chuckled lightly. “You didn’t think I’d only give you eleven roses, did you?”
“Well, eleven is symbolic.” Kurt traced the velvety edge of a petal with the tip of his middle finger; a small, secretive smile playing on his lips. “What does this one stand for?”
One corner of Blaine’s mouth turned up in an impish smirk as he spoke. “That’s how many times we’ve been together since our first time,” he answered, his tone low and suggestive.
Kurt’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Really.”
“You’ve…kept count?” He sounded surprised. Pleasantly.
Blaine cocked his head, raised a flirty eyebrow. “Maybe.”
Kurt’s eyes rolled upward as he ticked through each occasion in his mind. “There was the first time here, then…”
“Over at your house. Twice.”
“Then back here.”
“Then in your car.”
Kurt blushed. “I still can’t believe we did that.”
“I still can’t believe the time in the shower.” That Kurt had initiated, one cold morning while Blaine’s parents had taken his grandparents to church. To church.
“Not as bad as the time on your couch!”
“That was my favorite time.” Blaine leaned down, captured Kurt’s lips in a half kiss, half bite. “So far, anyway.” That lazy afternoon during Christmas break was amazing. The way Kurt had curled up against him under thick blankets in the den; rode him for the first time as the fire crackled and burned beside them. The memory was enough to make Blaine’s cock twitch, especially under the warm weight of Kurt’s body on top of him.
“Would it be bad if I wanted to ruin your count?” Kurt asked coyly after a pause.
Blaine blinked at him. “What?”
“Twelve.” Kurt lay his rose on the far edge of the bed, then rocked his body against Blaine’s as he reared up for another kiss - this one slow, full; wet lips gliding over wet lips. He inched back just enough to speak; his breath coming out in hot puffs against Blaine’s kiss-dampened skin. “I want to make it thirteen.”
Kurt punctuated his request with a slow slide back down Blaine’s body, then up again, purposefully shifting his weight to Blaine’s groin; pinning him to the mattress with hips and a wicked, gleaming stare.
Blaine groaned. He’d been cooped up in this bed, in this house for too long. He was craving this - craving Kurt, in the new way he’d learned to hunger for him since their first time.
“That’s still a b-baker’s dozen,” Blaine babbled as Kurt once again dragged himself against his hardening cock. “I think it’s perfectly fine.”
Kurt giggled, pressing his nose and lips into the soft skin just under Blaine’s jaw. “Dork,” he muttered. Then he scratched his teeth down Blaine’s neck, capturing the skin under his mouth in a soft bite. Blaine let out another groan, surrendering to the want and need and love shooting straight from where Kurt was marking him down to his gut.
Kurt kept grinding up and down against his crotch; the rhythmic movement generating heavy friction between their clothed bodies. Blaine could feel Kurt’s cock against his - long and hard under a thick, stiff layer of denim that scraped roughly, relentlessly against the thin cotton of his sweatpants.
They’d done this before: the time in Kurt’s backseat, far away from inquisitive parents and open-door policies; a frantic race to get each other off. But this was different - different than anything they’d ever done. Kurt moved slowly, achingly slow; the pace just quick enough to please, but leaving Blaine moaning and trembling, desperate for more.
Blaine shivered as staticky sparks tingled along the back of his neck and down his spine, all the way to his calves. He slid his hands down Kurt’s sides, clutched his ass cheeks through his impossibly tight jeans: simultaneously an incredible turn-on and a frustrating hindrance. Blaine held him there taut, fingernails digging into the steely gray fabric as he thrust up as hard as he could. They both gasped at the sudden jolts of pleasure against their throbbing cocks.
“Uh uh,” Kurt purred, pausing his measured movements to pepper kisses all over Blaine’s face: his cheeks, his eyes, his chin; ending with another slow scratch, another wet suck on his lower lip. “I thought you said anticipation was sweet?”
Ohhh. Kurt’s voice - that raspy, languid tease - it made Blaine want to grab him, flip him over and press him into sheets and pillows, crushing the fragrant red rose under them as Blaine pounded into him. He wanted hot skin on skin, lubed cocks slipping and gliding against one another, trapped by their joined hands.
But Kurt was in charge now. That was clear. This was Kurt’s chance to show Blaine how much he loved him - just like Blaine had done all day.
Blaine bit down on his lip, hard, summoning every ounce of his self-restraint as unspoken pleas - more, harder, fuck me - tangled on his tongue.
The two boys let out a steady stream of gasps and moans, muffled against mouths and necks and hair, as they moved together. Blaine kept rolling his hips upward, meeting but not increasing the agonizing pace Kurt set.
The heat between them grew, and grew, and grew, until it overwhelmed. Blaine was dissolving under Kurt’s body. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe; only feel.
“So good,” Blaine choked against Kurt’s temple on the next drag upward. “Keep going.”
They were both shaking now. Blaine squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating as hard as he could on the slow waves of pleasure radiating from where Kurt’s body met his; on the tightness that wound tighter and tighter inside him. But still - not enough.
“Harder,” he cried out desperately, unable to swallow back his begging any longer. “Please, Kurt. Please. I’m so close.”
“Harder?” Kurt grunted, repeating Blaine’s plea. Blaine could hear the impish grin in his voice. He shifted more weight to his hips, rocked down as roughly as he could. “Like this?”
Blaine moaned his approval, spreading his legs wide and shifting the angle just so. The new position sent fresh shocks of pleasure up to his brain, down to his toes.
Suddenly, his orgasm rippled through him - a tiny tremor that grew to a fucking earthquake. He cried out loudly as he shuddered violently under Kurt’s body, gripping his ass so tight he’d probably have drawn blood if not for the denim barrier.
As Blaine’s moans died away to deep, heavy pants, Kurt shifted his weight away from the wet spot at the front of his sweats; rutting madly against his thigh and practically growling with need.
“Come on, baby. Let go,” Blaine murmured, pressing kisses against Kurt’s sweaty forehead as he floated down from his hazy afterglow. He wanted to see Kurt come, now. “You’re so beautiful when you come. It turns me on so much. Let me see you.”
With one last hard thrust, Kurt fell, hugging Blaine close as his entire body shook and shivered. Fresh tendrils of pleasure coiled in Blaine’s belly as he listened to, felt Kurt’s breathy gasps, hot in his ear.
Neither said a word as they held each other afterward, listening to their heartbeats slow, their breathing even out, their tiny murmurs as delicious little aftershocks quivered through their bodies. Blaine vaguely noticed that his bedroom had turned almost completely dark as dusk fell outside his windows.
“You made me come in my pants,” Blaine whispered, his voice a quiet tease.
“Sorry,” Kurt sighed. “I-oh, no, I’m not sorry.” He giggled, reaching up to press an aimless kiss to Blaine’s skin; his lips landing just above Blaine’s jaw.
With another kiss, then another, and another, Kurt lifted himself up on all fours and crawled away from Blaine’s body, hopping off the bed and stumbling across the shadowy room to Blaine’s dresser. He pulled open the bottom drawer and lifted out two pairs of sweatpants before returning.
“Let me,” Kurt urged as he tugged at one end of the drawstring around Blaine’s waist. The little bow holding his pants up fell apart under Kurt’s hand.
“I can get up, you know,” Blaine said as he lifted his hips, in response to Kurt’s gentle pat against his thigh.
“If you get up, I’ll just be annoyed that you weren’t in school today.”
Blaine let his head fall back into the pillows. “Okay,” he conceded. This was all part of it, too: Kurt taking care of him, showing him how much love he felt. Blaine watched in wonder as Kurt tenderly replaced his wet sweats with clean ones; amazed at how quickly Kurt had shifted from seductive boyfriend - writhing and moaning above him and making him come and god, he better be careful or else he was going to need yet another pair of pants.
Kurt quickly changed out of his own pants, wincing as he dragged his cold, wet jeans and briefs off. When he tugged on Blaine’s sweats, he snorted as he looked down at his socked feet. “These are so short on me.”
Blaine smiled lazily. “They look really cute.” He reached out and grabbed Kurt’s wrist, pulling him back onto the bed. “Get over here.”
Kurt hummed as he settled against Blaine’s side, nestling his soft cheek against Blaine’s pectoral muscle. They were quiet for a while; watching the last remnants of daylight slip away to black, listening to the heavy buzz of silence that hung above them.
“Eleven months,” Kurt whispered into the hushed darkness. “I still can’t believe it sometimes.”
Blaine smiled; the motion slow and drowsy. “Me either.”
Kurt reached across Blaine’s chest to take his hand, tightly entwining their fingers and pulling so their joined palms were resting atop Blaine’s chest. Blaine could feel Kurt’s steady breathing: puffs of damp, warm air against his fingers.
“Ten is our fingers when we hold hands,” Kurt murmured. “Half of you and half of me.”
Blaine’s smile stretched into a grin as he realized what Kurt was doing.
“Nine…” Blaine heard him falter. “Nine is the number of months we’re going to be apart next year.”
“Nooo. These are supposed to be good things, Kurt.”
“I know, but…I was thinking about it when I was driving over here earlier.” He kissed each one of Blaine’s fingers: light little pecks against his cuticles. “We’ve counted so many wonderful things today. That’s what I want us to think about whenever we’re sad or lonely during those nine months. All those things that make what we have special.”
Blaine nodded. He knew Kurt couldn’t see his affirmation; only hear the rustle of his hair against his pillow.
“Plus, these past eleven months have flown by.” Kurt’s tone was purposefully flippant, lightening the mood around the otherwise glum subject. “We can totally do nine.”
“Nine,” Blaine echoed. They could do it. He knew they could.
Kurt sighed a little. “Eight songs I had to watch you sing before we finally sang together.”
“We sang ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ together!” Blaine retorted. “And ‘Animal!’”
“But we weren’t together.” Blaine could hear the huff in Kurt’s voice. “In fact, you made fun of me after ‘Animal.’”
“I’m sorry.” It was Blaine’s turn to sprinkle kisses over their joined hands: nails, fingers, knuckles. “I take it back. All of it. I was so wrong.” Blaine’s eyes twinkled in the darkness. “I am well aware of your seductive powers now.”
He felt Kurt’s smile against the thin cotton of his t-shirt. “Seven is the number of picnics you took me on last summer. Remember that one when it stormed?”
Blaine remembered it well. They’d ended up spreading their blanket out in the cramped way-back of his station wagon instead of their usual spot in the park; watching lightning flash and listening to the drum of rain pour down above their heads.
“I wanted to push you down on that blanket so bad.” He could still feel the thick, humid air around them, fragrant with strawberries and the sugary vanilla cake Kurt had baked.
Kurt gasped in mock horror. “Blaine. And here I thought we were sharing an innocent picnic.”
“But there were strawberries, Kurt. You were feeding them to me. You should be marveling at my self-restraint.”
Kurt chuckled. “Then and tonight.” He untangled their hands and reached up to stroke a single finger down Blaine’s throat. “Six is the number of bow ties I made you for Christmas.”
“I love each and every one of them. I’ll wear them forever.”
“Don’t you dare. They’ll be terribly out of style in a few years.”
Blaine scoffed. “A classic bow tie never goes out of style.” He leaned down as far as he could to nuzzle his nose in Kurt’s hair. “I’m going to wear them to the dinner parties we throw when we live in the city together. I’ll tell all of our friends how you made them for me when you were seventeen.”
“You’re such a sap.”
“I know.” Blaine smacked a kiss against the crown of Kurt’s head.
Kurt turned his head, digging his chin into Blaine’s skin as he looked up at his face. “Five is the number of smiles you have. There’s the polite one, the sad one, the one when you’re performing, the friendly one. And then the one you give me. That one!” Kurt laughed as Blaine offered him a dopey smile, visible even through the darkness. He returned it, leaning forward to touch their upturned lips together. “I love that smile best.”
They were quiet for a few moments, letting themselves get lost in sweet grins and memories, before Kurt continued. “Four…four, four. Hmmm...” he wondered aloud. Then - “Ah! Four is the number of inches too short your pants are.”
“Hey!” Blaine poked him lightly in the side.
Kurt winked at him; a sparkle of light in the dark. “Three is the number of times you’ve tried to teach me how to play guitar.”
“I’ve gotta say, for someone who’s so musically inclined, string instruments are not your forte.”
“Maybe I just like it when you put your arms around me,” Kurt insinuated, his voice a coy sing-song.
“Oh.” Blaine wrapped his arm around Kurt’s lower back a little tighter. “Now the truth comes out. I knew you couldn’t be that bad.”
Kurt didn’t say anything for a minute. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter than before; his words riding on the tiniest tremble. “Two is for us. Two people who found each other in this stupid little town.”
“Out of the whole wide world,” Blaine whispered happily.
“And one…” Kurt picked up Blaine’s hand again, clutching it tightly in his own. “One is our life together. I want all those things you wrote today. I want holiday dinners with you and me and Finn and Rachel. I want to keep teaching you how to make soufflé, or anything else, even if you’re a hopeless chef. I want to take care of you when you’re sick.” He laughed lightly. “I want times eleven, till infinity.”
Blaine could barely see Kurt’s form, but he could feel the pure joy radiating from him. Only a few people ever got to see Kurt like this: with his high walls torn down, exposing every ounce of love he had to offer.
Blaine’s voice was thick with emotion when he spoke. “And I want more picnics and songs and guitar lessons with you. I want to embarrass you when I wear your bow ties when we’re thirty-five. I want you to keep making fun of my clothes, even. Most importantly, I never want to stop trying to make you happy.”
“You do make me happy,” Kurt responded without hesitation. The confirmation had Blaine grinning. “I didn’t think anybody would ever do anything like what you did for me today. Especially after last year. It was like…beyond my wildest dreams.”
“You deserve everything, Kurt. I want to give you everything you ever dreamed of. And never expected.”
Kurt was quiet for a few seconds. His breath hitched a few times, then leveled out as he collected himself. “So. All those Valentine’s Days we have in the future?”
“Mmmmm?”
“You’re going to have to work hard to top today.”
Blaine laughed. He was overjoyed with himself, with Kurt, with everything; concussion be damned. “I’m not sure that I can.” He idly stroked Kurt’s hair; a tender gesture that had both their eyelids slipping closed with a content hum. “I hope you’re okay if life is a downhill slide from here.”
He could feel Kurt’s smile curve against his chest. “I seriously doubt it.”
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: M
Word Count: 3,667
Spoilers: Spoilers and (likely very wrong) speculation for 3x11 “Michael” and 3x13 “Heart”
Warnings: Language. Frottage. The very, very slightest dom!Kurt, sub!Blaine.
Summary: You didn’t think Blaine would only give Kurt eleven roses for Valentine’s Day, did you? Here’s what happens when Kurt gets his twelfth rose. Sequel to Eleven Roses. (You kind of need to read that first.)
Author’s Note: So, I had no intention of writing a sequel to Eleven Roses. But then some lovely commenters were wondering about the twelfth rose in the dozen, and my mind wandered and this happened. I don’t do smut very often, so I’ve sandwiched it around heaps of fluff.
Thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed Eleven Roses, and for all the comments and recs and reblogs! I <3 every single one of you.
(Also posted on Tumblr and Scarves & Coffee)
***
“You must know. Surely you must know, it was all for you.”
Blaine sighed happily as he watched Mr. Darcy proclaim his love for Elizabeth in a misty English meadow. He’d kept a steady stream of romantic movies playing all day long - Casablanca, Shakespeare in Love, An Officer and A Gentleman, and now Pride and Prejudice - to distract himself from agonizing over the fact that he was missing his first Valentine’s Day with Kurt. Kurt as his boyfriend, that is.
For nearly a year, Blaine had eagerly anticipated this day. It was his favorite holiday, after all, and having Kurt to share it with made his thoughts even more precious. He’d spent hours daydreaming about the perfect words, the romantic gifts he could offer to profess his love - and to make up for the awful mess he’d caused last year.
He wasn’t going to be an oblivious idiot anymore, he thought, rolling his eyes at his own brazen stupidity. Not when it came to sentimental holidays, at least.
Needless to say, being stuck in bed with a concussion had never factored into any of his dreams. Instead of roaming the halls arm-in-arm with Kurt, presenting him with a rose and a sweet speech in between each class, Blaine was bedridden, clinging to his last threads of patience after being trapped inside four walls for a week and a half. All of his fanciful Valentine’s Day ideas had shattered that fateful moment he’d clumsily hit his head against hard, cold concrete.
Hopefully, things would get better soon. Kurt would be over any moment, if the picture text he’d sent twenty minutes ago was any indication. Blaine already had When Harry Met Sally waiting on his nightstand - alongside a single red rose, perched in a plain glass tumbler full of water. Not that they hadn’t watched the movie a thousand times since they started dating. But it was still a sentimental favorite. And Valentine’s Day was nothing if not a day to indulge in sentimentality.
Blaine tore his eyes from the rising sun behind Keira Knightley’s lithe silhouette to pull up the beautiful picture on his phone once again: Kurt’s rose - the rose he gave him - lying against his windshield, covered with lightly glistening ice. Blaine had hoped his surprise would be a hit, but Kurt’s short caption - “Best Valentine’s Day ever” - made his heart flip-flop in his chest.
Whenever he felt like he could do so, so much better, Kurt always made him feel like he was good enough.
Blaine heard a knock on his bedroom door just as the movie credits began to roll. As he hit stop on the remote, the door cracked open and Kurt peeked his head through. A huge grin blossomed on his face when the two locked eyes.
“Hey, you,” Blaine greeted him, mirroring Kurt’s happy smile.
Kurt practically skipped over to the bed, lightly plopping himself down on the edge and scooting his hip flush against Blaine’s. Wordlessly, he grabbed Blaine’s face between his hands and leaned down to take his lips in a fiery kiss.
Blaine couldn’t stop the moan that escaped from his throat as Kurt tugged his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking lightly on the flesh before coaxing Blaine’s mouth open with his tongue. Blaine felt the love, the longing, the happiness Kurt poured into the hot, wet melding of lips. This, this is what he’d been looking forward to all day.
They were both breathless when Kurt finally pulled away. “Hi,” he whispered hoarsely through another smile, their faces just inches apart. “I’ve been waiting all day to do that.”
“Ditto,” Blaine remarked delightedly. He felt like he’d never be able to wipe the goofy grin off his face. “Did my mom let you in?”
“Yeah. They were on their way out.”
“They’re going out to dinner for Valentine’s Day.”
“Cute.”
“So are you.” Blaine let his gaze drop down to Kurt’s red tie. He reached out to finger the bright, silky material before looking back up into sparkling blue eyes.
“How are you feeling?” Kurt rubbed his thumb along the edge of Blaine’s forehead, down to his temple.
“Better today,” Blaine admitted. It was the first day since the accident that his throbbing headaches had subsided to a dull - albeit constant - ache.
“Good. I can’t wait for you to come back to school.” Kurt pushed the covers aside and crawled into the space between Blaine’s legs, sliding up so their bodies were flat against each other. He propped his chin up on his arms, folded atop Blaine’s chest. “I missed you so much today.”
Blaine stroked Kurt’s left cheek with his knuckles; the soft skin still pink and icy from the raw February cold. “I’m sorry. You don’t know how badly I wanted to be there with you.”
“Don’t apologize. I mean, I wanted you there, too. But…” Another bright grin broke out on Kurt’s face. “I loved your surprise. I’ve never been so happy.”
Blaine swallowed down the joy that swelled in his heart. “Well.” He turned to look at his nightstand; an exaggerated glance that had Kurt following his gaze. “I’m not done yet.” Blaine reached over and plucked the rose from its glass, shaking off little drops of water before offering it to Kurt with a pleased smile. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Kurt.”
Kurt’s mouth parted in surprise. “Another one?” he asked, wonder in his voice as he propped himself up on an elbow to accept the flower.
Blaine chuckled lightly. “You didn’t think I’d only give you eleven roses, did you?”
“Well, eleven is symbolic.” Kurt traced the velvety edge of a petal with the tip of his middle finger; a small, secretive smile playing on his lips. “What does this one stand for?”
One corner of Blaine’s mouth turned up in an impish smirk as he spoke. “That’s how many times we’ve been together since our first time,” he answered, his tone low and suggestive.
Kurt’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Really.”
“You’ve…kept count?” He sounded surprised. Pleasantly.
Blaine cocked his head, raised a flirty eyebrow. “Maybe.”
Kurt’s eyes rolled upward as he ticked through each occasion in his mind. “There was the first time here, then…”
“Over at your house. Twice.”
“Then back here.”
“Then in your car.”
Kurt blushed. “I still can’t believe we did that.”
“I still can’t believe the time in the shower.” That Kurt had initiated, one cold morning while Blaine’s parents had taken his grandparents to church. To church.
“Not as bad as the time on your couch!”
“That was my favorite time.” Blaine leaned down, captured Kurt’s lips in a half kiss, half bite. “So far, anyway.” That lazy afternoon during Christmas break was amazing. The way Kurt had curled up against him under thick blankets in the den; rode him for the first time as the fire crackled and burned beside them. The memory was enough to make Blaine’s cock twitch, especially under the warm weight of Kurt’s body on top of him.
“Would it be bad if I wanted to ruin your count?” Kurt asked coyly after a pause.
Blaine blinked at him. “What?”
“Twelve.” Kurt lay his rose on the far edge of the bed, then rocked his body against Blaine’s as he reared up for another kiss - this one slow, full; wet lips gliding over wet lips. He inched back just enough to speak; his breath coming out in hot puffs against Blaine’s kiss-dampened skin. “I want to make it thirteen.”
Kurt punctuated his request with a slow slide back down Blaine’s body, then up again, purposefully shifting his weight to Blaine’s groin; pinning him to the mattress with hips and a wicked, gleaming stare.
Blaine groaned. He’d been cooped up in this bed, in this house for too long. He was craving this - craving Kurt, in the new way he’d learned to hunger for him since their first time.
“That’s still a b-baker’s dozen,” Blaine babbled as Kurt once again dragged himself against his hardening cock. “I think it’s perfectly fine.”
Kurt giggled, pressing his nose and lips into the soft skin just under Blaine’s jaw. “Dork,” he muttered. Then he scratched his teeth down Blaine’s neck, capturing the skin under his mouth in a soft bite. Blaine let out another groan, surrendering to the want and need and love shooting straight from where Kurt was marking him down to his gut.
Kurt kept grinding up and down against his crotch; the rhythmic movement generating heavy friction between their clothed bodies. Blaine could feel Kurt’s cock against his - long and hard under a thick, stiff layer of denim that scraped roughly, relentlessly against the thin cotton of his sweatpants.
They’d done this before: the time in Kurt’s backseat, far away from inquisitive parents and open-door policies; a frantic race to get each other off. But this was different - different than anything they’d ever done. Kurt moved slowly, achingly slow; the pace just quick enough to please, but leaving Blaine moaning and trembling, desperate for more.
Blaine shivered as staticky sparks tingled along the back of his neck and down his spine, all the way to his calves. He slid his hands down Kurt’s sides, clutched his ass cheeks through his impossibly tight jeans: simultaneously an incredible turn-on and a frustrating hindrance. Blaine held him there taut, fingernails digging into the steely gray fabric as he thrust up as hard as he could. They both gasped at the sudden jolts of pleasure against their throbbing cocks.
“Uh uh,” Kurt purred, pausing his measured movements to pepper kisses all over Blaine’s face: his cheeks, his eyes, his chin; ending with another slow scratch, another wet suck on his lower lip. “I thought you said anticipation was sweet?”
Ohhh. Kurt’s voice - that raspy, languid tease - it made Blaine want to grab him, flip him over and press him into sheets and pillows, crushing the fragrant red rose under them as Blaine pounded into him. He wanted hot skin on skin, lubed cocks slipping and gliding against one another, trapped by their joined hands.
But Kurt was in charge now. That was clear. This was Kurt’s chance to show Blaine how much he loved him - just like Blaine had done all day.
Blaine bit down on his lip, hard, summoning every ounce of his self-restraint as unspoken pleas - more, harder, fuck me - tangled on his tongue.
The two boys let out a steady stream of gasps and moans, muffled against mouths and necks and hair, as they moved together. Blaine kept rolling his hips upward, meeting but not increasing the agonizing pace Kurt set.
The heat between them grew, and grew, and grew, until it overwhelmed. Blaine was dissolving under Kurt’s body. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe; only feel.
“So good,” Blaine choked against Kurt’s temple on the next drag upward. “Keep going.”
They were both shaking now. Blaine squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating as hard as he could on the slow waves of pleasure radiating from where Kurt’s body met his; on the tightness that wound tighter and tighter inside him. But still - not enough.
“Harder,” he cried out desperately, unable to swallow back his begging any longer. “Please, Kurt. Please. I’m so close.”
“Harder?” Kurt grunted, repeating Blaine’s plea. Blaine could hear the impish grin in his voice. He shifted more weight to his hips, rocked down as roughly as he could. “Like this?”
Blaine moaned his approval, spreading his legs wide and shifting the angle just so. The new position sent fresh shocks of pleasure up to his brain, down to his toes.
Suddenly, his orgasm rippled through him - a tiny tremor that grew to a fucking earthquake. He cried out loudly as he shuddered violently under Kurt’s body, gripping his ass so tight he’d probably have drawn blood if not for the denim barrier.
As Blaine’s moans died away to deep, heavy pants, Kurt shifted his weight away from the wet spot at the front of his sweats; rutting madly against his thigh and practically growling with need.
“Come on, baby. Let go,” Blaine murmured, pressing kisses against Kurt’s sweaty forehead as he floated down from his hazy afterglow. He wanted to see Kurt come, now. “You’re so beautiful when you come. It turns me on so much. Let me see you.”
With one last hard thrust, Kurt fell, hugging Blaine close as his entire body shook and shivered. Fresh tendrils of pleasure coiled in Blaine’s belly as he listened to, felt Kurt’s breathy gasps, hot in his ear.
Neither said a word as they held each other afterward, listening to their heartbeats slow, their breathing even out, their tiny murmurs as delicious little aftershocks quivered through their bodies. Blaine vaguely noticed that his bedroom had turned almost completely dark as dusk fell outside his windows.
“You made me come in my pants,” Blaine whispered, his voice a quiet tease.
“Sorry,” Kurt sighed. “I-oh, no, I’m not sorry.” He giggled, reaching up to press an aimless kiss to Blaine’s skin; his lips landing just above Blaine’s jaw.
With another kiss, then another, and another, Kurt lifted himself up on all fours and crawled away from Blaine’s body, hopping off the bed and stumbling across the shadowy room to Blaine’s dresser. He pulled open the bottom drawer and lifted out two pairs of sweatpants before returning.
“Let me,” Kurt urged as he tugged at one end of the drawstring around Blaine’s waist. The little bow holding his pants up fell apart under Kurt’s hand.
“I can get up, you know,” Blaine said as he lifted his hips, in response to Kurt’s gentle pat against his thigh.
“If you get up, I’ll just be annoyed that you weren’t in school today.”
Blaine let his head fall back into the pillows. “Okay,” he conceded. This was all part of it, too: Kurt taking care of him, showing him how much love he felt. Blaine watched in wonder as Kurt tenderly replaced his wet sweats with clean ones; amazed at how quickly Kurt had shifted from seductive boyfriend - writhing and moaning above him and making him come and god, he better be careful or else he was going to need yet another pair of pants.
Kurt quickly changed out of his own pants, wincing as he dragged his cold, wet jeans and briefs off. When he tugged on Blaine’s sweats, he snorted as he looked down at his socked feet. “These are so short on me.”
Blaine smiled lazily. “They look really cute.” He reached out and grabbed Kurt’s wrist, pulling him back onto the bed. “Get over here.”
Kurt hummed as he settled against Blaine’s side, nestling his soft cheek against Blaine’s pectoral muscle. They were quiet for a while; watching the last remnants of daylight slip away to black, listening to the heavy buzz of silence that hung above them.
“Eleven months,” Kurt whispered into the hushed darkness. “I still can’t believe it sometimes.”
Blaine smiled; the motion slow and drowsy. “Me either.”
Kurt reached across Blaine’s chest to take his hand, tightly entwining their fingers and pulling so their joined palms were resting atop Blaine’s chest. Blaine could feel Kurt’s steady breathing: puffs of damp, warm air against his fingers.
“Ten is our fingers when we hold hands,” Kurt murmured. “Half of you and half of me.”
Blaine’s smile stretched into a grin as he realized what Kurt was doing.
“Nine…” Blaine heard him falter. “Nine is the number of months we’re going to be apart next year.”
“Nooo. These are supposed to be good things, Kurt.”
“I know, but…I was thinking about it when I was driving over here earlier.” He kissed each one of Blaine’s fingers: light little pecks against his cuticles. “We’ve counted so many wonderful things today. That’s what I want us to think about whenever we’re sad or lonely during those nine months. All those things that make what we have special.”
Blaine nodded. He knew Kurt couldn’t see his affirmation; only hear the rustle of his hair against his pillow.
“Plus, these past eleven months have flown by.” Kurt’s tone was purposefully flippant, lightening the mood around the otherwise glum subject. “We can totally do nine.”
“Nine,” Blaine echoed. They could do it. He knew they could.
Kurt sighed a little. “Eight songs I had to watch you sing before we finally sang together.”
“We sang ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ together!” Blaine retorted. “And ‘Animal!’”
“But we weren’t together.” Blaine could hear the huff in Kurt’s voice. “In fact, you made fun of me after ‘Animal.’”
“I’m sorry.” It was Blaine’s turn to sprinkle kisses over their joined hands: nails, fingers, knuckles. “I take it back. All of it. I was so wrong.” Blaine’s eyes twinkled in the darkness. “I am well aware of your seductive powers now.”
He felt Kurt’s smile against the thin cotton of his t-shirt. “Seven is the number of picnics you took me on last summer. Remember that one when it stormed?”
Blaine remembered it well. They’d ended up spreading their blanket out in the cramped way-back of his station wagon instead of their usual spot in the park; watching lightning flash and listening to the drum of rain pour down above their heads.
“I wanted to push you down on that blanket so bad.” He could still feel the thick, humid air around them, fragrant with strawberries and the sugary vanilla cake Kurt had baked.
Kurt gasped in mock horror. “Blaine. And here I thought we were sharing an innocent picnic.”
“But there were strawberries, Kurt. You were feeding them to me. You should be marveling at my self-restraint.”
Kurt chuckled. “Then and tonight.” He untangled their hands and reached up to stroke a single finger down Blaine’s throat. “Six is the number of bow ties I made you for Christmas.”
“I love each and every one of them. I’ll wear them forever.”
“Don’t you dare. They’ll be terribly out of style in a few years.”
Blaine scoffed. “A classic bow tie never goes out of style.” He leaned down as far as he could to nuzzle his nose in Kurt’s hair. “I’m going to wear them to the dinner parties we throw when we live in the city together. I’ll tell all of our friends how you made them for me when you were seventeen.”
“You’re such a sap.”
“I know.” Blaine smacked a kiss against the crown of Kurt’s head.
Kurt turned his head, digging his chin into Blaine’s skin as he looked up at his face. “Five is the number of smiles you have. There’s the polite one, the sad one, the one when you’re performing, the friendly one. And then the one you give me. That one!” Kurt laughed as Blaine offered him a dopey smile, visible even through the darkness. He returned it, leaning forward to touch their upturned lips together. “I love that smile best.”
They were quiet for a few moments, letting themselves get lost in sweet grins and memories, before Kurt continued. “Four…four, four. Hmmm...” he wondered aloud. Then - “Ah! Four is the number of inches too short your pants are.”
“Hey!” Blaine poked him lightly in the side.
Kurt winked at him; a sparkle of light in the dark. “Three is the number of times you’ve tried to teach me how to play guitar.”
“I’ve gotta say, for someone who’s so musically inclined, string instruments are not your forte.”
“Maybe I just like it when you put your arms around me,” Kurt insinuated, his voice a coy sing-song.
“Oh.” Blaine wrapped his arm around Kurt’s lower back a little tighter. “Now the truth comes out. I knew you couldn’t be that bad.”
Kurt didn’t say anything for a minute. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter than before; his words riding on the tiniest tremble. “Two is for us. Two people who found each other in this stupid little town.”
“Out of the whole wide world,” Blaine whispered happily.
“And one…” Kurt picked up Blaine’s hand again, clutching it tightly in his own. “One is our life together. I want all those things you wrote today. I want holiday dinners with you and me and Finn and Rachel. I want to keep teaching you how to make soufflé, or anything else, even if you’re a hopeless chef. I want to take care of you when you’re sick.” He laughed lightly. “I want times eleven, till infinity.”
Blaine could barely see Kurt’s form, but he could feel the pure joy radiating from him. Only a few people ever got to see Kurt like this: with his high walls torn down, exposing every ounce of love he had to offer.
Blaine’s voice was thick with emotion when he spoke. “And I want more picnics and songs and guitar lessons with you. I want to embarrass you when I wear your bow ties when we’re thirty-five. I want you to keep making fun of my clothes, even. Most importantly, I never want to stop trying to make you happy.”
“You do make me happy,” Kurt responded without hesitation. The confirmation had Blaine grinning. “I didn’t think anybody would ever do anything like what you did for me today. Especially after last year. It was like…beyond my wildest dreams.”
“You deserve everything, Kurt. I want to give you everything you ever dreamed of. And never expected.”
Kurt was quiet for a few seconds. His breath hitched a few times, then leveled out as he collected himself. “So. All those Valentine’s Days we have in the future?”
“Mmmmm?”
“You’re going to have to work hard to top today.”
Blaine laughed. He was overjoyed with himself, with Kurt, with everything; concussion be damned. “I’m not sure that I can.” He idly stroked Kurt’s hair; a tender gesture that had both their eyelids slipping closed with a content hum. “I hope you’re okay if life is a downhill slide from here.”
He could feel Kurt’s smile curve against his chest. “I seriously doubt it.”