Fic: Breathless
Title: Breathless
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Words: 1400 or so.
Warnings/Spoilers: Porn.
Summary: Sometimes, when they're making love, Blaine starts laughing and he can't stop.
Author’s Note: Part of the stripper!verse. This was inspired more than a little by Stoya's session of Hysterical Literature (which is probably not at all SFW, but is amazing) -- if you've watched to the end, it's not hard to see why. (And yes, there is a part of me that very much wants to write Blaine doing something similar, but it's hard to find something for him to read during.)
I seem to have fallen into this habit of writing sunny, giggly, fluffy, loving porn on Thursday nights when I'm not watching Glee (because livestreams). I already feel like next week is going to have to be ridiculously over the top. There'll be clouds. Or unicorns. Or something.
Sometimes, when they're making love, Blaine starts laughing and he can't stop.
It isn't every time (which, in Kurt's eyes, is honestly kind of a shame -- he loves this, the way Blaine gives himself over, so abandoned in the moment). And there doesn't seem to really be a pattern. Alcohol helps, a little, unless it doesn't; usually it's after Kurt's opened him up and teased an orgasm (or two) out of him with the tips of his fingers. But sometimes Kurt can milk Blaine until he's dry and he still just clings, and hides his face in Kurt's shoulder, and speaks in a voice that's so softly broken that Kurt breaks too. And then, too, there have been times when the giggles have started up almost as soon as they came together, like all that needs to happen is for their lips to brush and Blaine is undone, gasping softly and making the most wonderful noises and choking back laughter, eyes crinkled at the corners and smile so broad that Kurt can only kiss at the corners of it, only a little before he moves on, nuzzling Blaine's neck and whispering in his ear, "It's okay, it's okay. I like it. You know I like it."
Except, of course, that Kurt doesn't like it.
He loves it.
He loves everything they do, of course he does. Loves Blaine on his knees, looking up at him with wide dark eyes fringed with incredible lashes, his hands curled gently around Kurt's thighs. Loves laying Blaine down and worshipping him with his mouth, the way his lips have to stretch and the way Blaine is heavy on his tongue, the way his hips twitch helplessly as Kurt pulls the orgasm out of him, slow and sweet. He's learning to love the way Blaine breaks apart around his fingers, how sensitive he is to the right touch in the right place, how it shatters him in the most exhilarating ways. And he definitely loves it when Blaine takes over, whether he's on his back with Blaine gorgeous and powerful above him or even when he's on his stomach and Blaine is so gently, so carefully coaxing him open until he's warm wax in Blaine's hands, ready to be reshaped (and Kurt Hummel does not let just any man "reshape" him, so that is praise indeed). He loves it when they can't even take the time for any of that, when it's just grabbing and biting and rutting, the two of them grinding mindlessly against each other until they shudder, and shake, and come, and cling together the entire time. Kurt loves all of it, from the simple to the sublime; he's never been this compatible with another person.
But this? This he loves best of all.
Blaine is on his back, always on his back -- he's simply too unsteady for anything else when he gets this way -- and his arms stretch up over his head, hands occasionally making weak grabs for the pillow but without enough force for him to ever really do anything with it. His gorgeous, astonishing, incredible torso ripples as he squirms with every push from Kurt's hips, back arching up and then relaxing back and shifting into the sensations, muscles tensing every time Kurt slides against that particular spot inside him, forcing out another breathy little laugh. It looks incredible; it feels even better, the way Blaine tightens around him with each soft outburst, making Kurt grind in close and stay there, try to coax more out of him so he can feel it again and again, Blaine's laughter all around him.
And oh, Blaine's face -- eyes closed and lashes fanning against his cheeks, lips parted and stretched up into a smile, the way the skin around his eyes crinkles up and Kurt can't even care about wrinkles because if there was ever a way to really earn them, it's this. Blaine's face makes Kurt smile back at him, makes him gasp out a little, breathless laugh of his own as Blaine hmms and gasps and laughs again, his stomach jumping and everything going tight, not tight enough to force Kurt out or even enough to hurt, just enough that he has to force in deeper, make Blaine laugh and laugh himself and bend down to kiss along Blaine's jaw, where his head is tilted back, and stroke his hand up Blaine's outspread thigh, and laugh, and laugh.
"God, you're so --" he says, and can't finish, Blaine squeezing around him and making him groan and laugh and lose all his breath, mouthing down Blaine's neck as he rocks, just a little, trying his best to make his cock a substitute for his fingers. "Oh, God, sweetheart, I'm not going to -- not gonna last, if you --"
"So good," Blaine gasps out, and it's not entirely connected to what Kurt was saying, but it's not exactly surprising, either; Blaine's vocabulary shrinks drastically with each orgasm, and now that Kurt's more comfortable with just how much Blaine can do, he's been playing with it, a little. "Don't have to -- Oh, hnnn, ah, Kurt --" His breath catches in his chest, his laughter something Kurt feels rather than sees -- the way his abdomen jumps, the way it vibrates in his throat. "I don't -- I don't even know if I can --"
"You can," Kurt mumbles, and presses his lips to Blaine's throat to catch each little moment of inaudible laughter. "I have faith in you."
Blaine laughs, more loudly than before, and Kurt picks up the pace -- not jackhammering, not pounding, not anything but gentle and only a little faster -- and Blaine's breath catches again, coming out in irregular gasps and half-vocalized laughs when Kurt gets the angle just right, pushing Blaine's thigh flat to the bed. He could take the easy out and just go for Blaine's dick; it's not like he's planning on making either of them go for one more after this, but the thing is, he's getting into this idea of making Blaine come untouched. He's not necessarily proud to admit it, but the ego boost is tremendous. And he knows, he knows Blaine is close now. If Kurt can keep it together a little longer...
And Blaine laughs. His parted lips smile, and then go slack as he gasps, and then smile again. He manages to hold onto the pillow for a moment or two, and then his hips twist up, away from Kurt and then towards him, and his fingers slacken, tighten around the air. His thigh tenses under Kurt's hand, his muscles jump, and his untouched dick twitches against his spasming stomach, forcing out the tiniest little bit of cum as he giggles and gasps his way through his orgasm.
The sight erodes every last little bit of Kurt's self-control -- his hips jerk against Blaine's body and he grinds in deep as he can, only barely easing himself out before he's forcing his way back in, and he can't hear Blaine laughing, can't hear himself, just the tightness and the way it shifts around him and the rushing feeling of it all, the way it's like light all through him, and he lets his hips move how they want and doesn't think about the faces he's making, just lets go and feels it, how good it is, how much joy.
He's not entirely surprised that, when he comes back to himself, he's pressed to Blaine's chest, with one of Blaine's arms draped loosely around him.
He's even less surprised that they're both giggling breathlessly, and that it takes them forever to stop.
"Thank you," Blaine murmurs, when Kurt's finally put together enough brain cells to slide out and get the condom off him (although not enough to avoid spilling and definitely not enough to manage to tie the damn thing off before he drops it over the side of the bed. "For not making me feel weird."
Kurt manages to lift his head enough to frown at Blaine, but the expression feels weird, so he lets it fall away and goes back to smiling.
"For the laughing," Blaine says. "The laughing thing."
Kurt considers this, for a moment, and then he shakes his head and lays it back down on Blaine's chest. "Not weird," he says, and runs his hands down Blaine's sides to make him giggle. "Perfect."