Fic: Every Word - Chapter 6 of 12; Glee; Kurt/Blaine
Chapter 6
The cast and crew are crammed about a long table in the middle of a local Mexican place. Blaine and Wes have been in meetings with financial backers and theater owners for a day and a half so Blaine’s hardly seen the cast since Wednesday. He hasn’t heard from Kurt at all.
Kurt’s at the other end of the table, sitting beside Amaryllis. Blaine watches as Kurt makes some quick, sharp comment. Across the table Elisha widens his eyes, amused. All three giggle.
Devi’s recounted the last few days and everything sounds like it’s going smoothly. Perhaps nothing truly inspired yet, except the chemistry between the leads, but everyone’s been working hard and even with all the theater people involved no one seems to hate each other.
Despite this, across the room, Kurt looks brittle.
Blaine says his hellos and skirts the table. He lowers himself into the vacant seat beside Kurt. When Kurt slants his eyes toward him, Blaine amends his first impression. Kurt looks brittle and fucking dangerous.
“Hey you,” says Kurt quietly.
“Hey.” Blaine gestures to the drinks menu. “What’s good?”
Kurt slides his glass across. “Try this. It’s not precisely ambrosial but it does the trick.”
Blaine takes a sip. He meets Kurt’s eyes over the salted rim. It occurs to him that he is in trouble here.
Thankfully the food arrives and Blaine orders his own drink and breathes like his heart is still beating normally. Some of the crew arrive. They’re not full time at this stage, of course, and they tend to come and go at will. They pull up some chairs and crowd around Blaine. Kurt’s talking brightly with Amaryllis and Vanessa and doesn’t appear to notice as Blaine gives up the battle to keep space between their thighs.
“I’ve got the most awesome idea for the Goliath head,” says Rob, the props guy.
Blaine grins. He looks down the table to Gustav looming over some of the cast. “You’ll have to make it look like Gustav’s head,” he says. “He’s our Goliath.” He allows himself to be sucked in to conversation about fake eyeballs and giant heads on sticks.
“So do you have a honey waiting for you back in New York?” one of the dance crew, Carmody, asks Kurt. Blaine keeps his eyes on Rob who’s making laughing plans for appropriate dead giant facial expressions.
Still, he hears Kurt’s breezy reply. “Nope. No one waiting for me at all.” Kurt laughs a little but Blaine knows Kurt is rarely breezy unless it really matters.
He looks at Kurt sharply. Kurt shifts his gaze to Blaine.
In the background Blaine hears Carmody laugh and say, on a breath, “Lucky San Francisco.” But Kurt is eying Blaine speculatively and suddenly under the table Kurt’s knuckles brush against Blaine’s thigh. Blaine feels the intent all the way up his spine.
Kurt turns back to chat with Carmody and the dance crew. The set guys are leaning over one of their tablets, looking at an old trailer for Sharktopus.
“How about Piranhaconda?” says one on a giggle. Kurt’s hand shifts against Blaine’s leg.
When the waiter stops by Kurt orders another margarita. “One for you, Blaine?” he asks, leaning closer. Blaine is not about to say no with Kurt’s shoulder against his and Kurt’s hand on his thigh.
A lot of the cast and crew have cleared out so there’s more room at the table, but Kurt hasn’t moved away. Halfway through the drink Blaine places his hand into Kurt’s and tangles their fingers together. He circles his thumb against Kurt’s palm between their hands. He feels the catch in Kurt’s breath. They sit for a moment with their hands tangled between them.
“Take me home, please,” breathes Kurt in Blaine’s ear and Blaine has never wanted anything more than this in his entire life.
“Okay,” he says.
Okay.
**
Blaine’s apartment is a blessedly short cab ride from the restaurant. Kurt looks out the window on the way. He tries not to think at all. He can feel Blaine’s eyes on him and it’s desperately familiar and yet so new.
They pull up and climb out. Just inside the apartment Blaine says, softly, “Are you sure of what you want here, Kurt?”
Kurt closes the door and leans against it to tug Blaine close. He recognizes what he wants. He wants to forget every hurt; wants to forget every word and every thought. He wants to be surrounded and taken over, inside and out.
He says, “Yes.” His voice is rough. He feels the resulting tremor in Blaine.
Blaine angles his hips and presses Kurt’s body into the door. Kurt keeps one hand clenched in Blaine’s shirt and runs the other into Blaine’s hair. He tugs Blaine’s head back slightly. Blaine’s darkened eyes focus slowly. He lets out a shuddering breath and Kurt watches his upper lip curl a little at the corner. There’s a heady power in knowing that Kurt can still draw Blaine to shrug off all the polite behavior that’s been instilled in him. Kurt presses his lips against Blaine’s neck. He shifts to kiss under Blaine’s jawline, and Blaine’s body seems to crumple against him.
When they break apart Blaine takes Kurt’s hand and tugs him into the kitchen.
“Bedroom,” says Kurt with what he hopes is convincing authority, but Blaine pours two glasses of water and hands one to him. He steps away from Kurt and Kurt watches.
Blaine’s hair is looser than he used to wear it. It curls a little. He’s wearing a charcoal Romeo & David shirt that fits him perfectly and slim fit red pants. It’s kind of a catastrophe how many things Kurt still loves about this man. Kurt plants his glass on the bench firmly, meets Blaine’s eyes and leans closer. They kiss with water-cooled mouths. Kurt presses his tongue into Blaine’s mouth and Blaine moans as he closes his eyes.
“Seriously. Bed,” says Kurt close to Blaine’s ear. “I want you to fuck me.”
Blaine stills for a moment.
“Please,” says Kurt. It’s been years, but the truth is Blaine could never say no to Kurt when Kurt said please.
Once they’re in the bedroom, Kurt unbuttons his shirt and slides steadily out of his jeans. Blaine watches for a second and then takes off his own clothes. Blaine is perfect naked, just so faultlessly put together, and it aches inside Kurt like an old wound. Everything is colored with betrayals, his own and others, old and new. He’s turned on, yes, but he’s wound up and angry too.
“God. Kurt.” Blaine’s voice is soft and his eyes warm and this innate tenderness is maybe the last thing Kurt wants.
He pushes Blaine backwards onto the bed and straddles him. Blaine raises his eyebrows but Kurt grinds his ass down against Blaine’s. Blaine’s cock is hard against him. He moans as Kurt runs his hands up Blaine’s chest.
“I want you. Deep inside me,” Kurt says. “I want your balls slamming up against me.” He watches Blaine’s eyes dilate further before he twists his body to pull Blaine down on top of him. Everything is just skin to hot skin.
“Supplies?” Kurt asks.
Blaine reaches wordlessly for a bedside drawer and pulls out a condom and lube. Kurt rolls over beneath him. He leans forward on his bent arms and spreads his thighs. His ass is cocked in the air. If he’s confident of anything it’s that he looks good like this, even though the deference inherent in the position doesn’t come easily to him. It’s certainly not how they ever did this before which he supposes is largely the point.
He shudders as Blaine plants one hand on his hip and traces his hole with a slicked finger. They’re both significantly more experienced than they used be. Blaine’s knees slide between Kurt’s and he sits his weight back onto his heels. His breathing is unsteady. “You can start with two fingers,” Kurt says.
Kurt knows why he’s doing this. He is aware that he wants to incontrovertibly separate this whole thing from those early times sharing a bed where they gazed soulfully into each other’s eyes and fumbled their way through new love. This is different.
He moans, deep and shaking, as Blaine pushes two fingers inside him and twists them smoothly and repeatedly. He doesn’t need to ask for more, Blaine is already pushing a third finger in to stretch Kurt further. Kurt shifts his hips back, fucking himself on Blaine’s fingers. “Inside me,” he manages on another moan. “Please Blaine.”
It’s a loss when Blaine removes his fingers. But then Blaine presses the tip of his cock into Kurt and rocks gently forward. Kurt supports himself on one arm and reaches the other back to ineffectively tug at Blaine’s hips. “More,” he manages.
Blaine groans as he thrusts far inside Kurt. Kurt’s arms give out under him. He drops his body forward and leans into the bed. His cock rubs against the bed. He feels opened up, stretched and crowded with Blaine’s hips tight against his ass and Blaine’s hot breath on his neck.
“God, you feel incredible,” says Blaine as he starts moving faster, pushing deeper into Kurt. He shifts angles and his cock presses against Kurt’s prostrate. Kurt gasps. He lets his hips thud back harder into Blaine’s as they find a tempo.
Blaine reaches an arm around Kurt’s hips and lifts them up a little from the bed. He grasps Kurt’s cock in one lubed hand. Kurt bites back a cry. He buries his face in the bed. Blaine wraps his hand about Kurt’s cock and moves rhythmically. The pleasure builds like a bright current in Kurt’s spine. He thrusts mindlessly forward into Blaine’s fist and back onto Blaine’s cock. He can’t stop himself from grunting into his release. He comes hard on a sob.
“Fuck, Kurt… fuck…” Blaine falls apart above him. He pumps his cock into Kurt over and over as he comes. His body is shuddering; his mouth open and gasping against the skin of Kurt’s back. Blaine holds himself there, thighs trembling between Kurt’s as he rides out the last of his orgasm.
He drops gentle kisses to Kurt’s shoulder blades as he pulls out slowly. It’s sweet and it’s wholly agonising. Kurt is just glad he has his face turned into the bed so Blaine can’t see the tears that fill his eyes. But he has never been able to hide his emotions. At some point he’ll have to come up, if only to breathe.
Blaine tips himself over onto one side and lies beside Kurt. He runs a hand across Kurt’s back. Kurt’s breath catches a little inside his chest. He rolls over to face away from Blaine.
“Okay, just let me-” Kurt says. “I just.” He takes a shaky breath.
“Kurt?” Kurt feels like he’s frozen where he lies. “Please look at me,” says Blaine.
Kurt takes a breath and turns to look at Blaine over his shoulder.
“Kurt,” Blaine says on an exhale. “Are you- Did I-“ He blinks helplessly.
“I’m sorry.” Kurt says. “Blaine I am so sorry. I just need to- clear my head.” Kurt turns and reaches for his clothing. “I need to go.” Blaine is silent as Kurt pulls his pants and shirt on.
He has to sit on the bed to tie his boots.
“Just give me a second,” says Blaine. He is grabbing a t-shirt and boxers and pulling them on. “I’ll call you a cab.”
Kurt can’t stand the idea of waiting here in Blaine’s apartment with Blaine. “I’ll find one on the street,” he says.
“Please, Kurt.”
When Kurt meets Blaine’s eyes it is simply unspeakable.
“I’ll be fine,” he says. “It’s okay. I’m so sorry. This will be fine.” He can feel Blaine’s gaze on his back as he walks out.
Chapter 7
The cast and crew are crammed about a long table in the middle of a local Mexican place. Blaine and Wes have been in meetings with financial backers and theater owners for a day and a half so Blaine’s hardly seen the cast since Wednesday. He hasn’t heard from Kurt at all.
Kurt’s at the other end of the table, sitting beside Amaryllis. Blaine watches as Kurt makes some quick, sharp comment. Across the table Elisha widens his eyes, amused. All three giggle.
Devi’s recounted the last few days and everything sounds like it’s going smoothly. Perhaps nothing truly inspired yet, except the chemistry between the leads, but everyone’s been working hard and even with all the theater people involved no one seems to hate each other.
Despite this, across the room, Kurt looks brittle.
Blaine says his hellos and skirts the table. He lowers himself into the vacant seat beside Kurt. When Kurt slants his eyes toward him, Blaine amends his first impression. Kurt looks brittle and fucking dangerous.
“Hey you,” says Kurt quietly.
“Hey.” Blaine gestures to the drinks menu. “What’s good?”
Kurt slides his glass across. “Try this. It’s not precisely ambrosial but it does the trick.”
Blaine takes a sip. He meets Kurt’s eyes over the salted rim. It occurs to him that he is in trouble here.
Thankfully the food arrives and Blaine orders his own drink and breathes like his heart is still beating normally. Some of the crew arrive. They’re not full time at this stage, of course, and they tend to come and go at will. They pull up some chairs and crowd around Blaine. Kurt’s talking brightly with Amaryllis and Vanessa and doesn’t appear to notice as Blaine gives up the battle to keep space between their thighs.
“I’ve got the most awesome idea for the Goliath head,” says Rob, the props guy.
Blaine grins. He looks down the table to Gustav looming over some of the cast. “You’ll have to make it look like Gustav’s head,” he says. “He’s our Goliath.” He allows himself to be sucked in to conversation about fake eyeballs and giant heads on sticks.
“So do you have a honey waiting for you back in New York?” one of the dance crew, Carmody, asks Kurt. Blaine keeps his eyes on Rob who’s making laughing plans for appropriate dead giant facial expressions.
Still, he hears Kurt’s breezy reply. “Nope. No one waiting for me at all.” Kurt laughs a little but Blaine knows Kurt is rarely breezy unless it really matters.
He looks at Kurt sharply. Kurt shifts his gaze to Blaine.
In the background Blaine hears Carmody laugh and say, on a breath, “Lucky San Francisco.” But Kurt is eying Blaine speculatively and suddenly under the table Kurt’s knuckles brush against Blaine’s thigh. Blaine feels the intent all the way up his spine.
Kurt turns back to chat with Carmody and the dance crew. The set guys are leaning over one of their tablets, looking at an old trailer for Sharktopus.
“How about Piranhaconda?” says one on a giggle. Kurt’s hand shifts against Blaine’s leg.
When the waiter stops by Kurt orders another margarita. “One for you, Blaine?” he asks, leaning closer. Blaine is not about to say no with Kurt’s shoulder against his and Kurt’s hand on his thigh.
A lot of the cast and crew have cleared out so there’s more room at the table, but Kurt hasn’t moved away. Halfway through the drink Blaine places his hand into Kurt’s and tangles their fingers together. He circles his thumb against Kurt’s palm between their hands. He feels the catch in Kurt’s breath. They sit for a moment with their hands tangled between them.
“Take me home, please,” breathes Kurt in Blaine’s ear and Blaine has never wanted anything more than this in his entire life.
“Okay,” he says.
Okay.
**
Blaine’s apartment is a blessedly short cab ride from the restaurant. Kurt looks out the window on the way. He tries not to think at all. He can feel Blaine’s eyes on him and it’s desperately familiar and yet so new.
They pull up and climb out. Just inside the apartment Blaine says, softly, “Are you sure of what you want here, Kurt?”
Kurt closes the door and leans against it to tug Blaine close. He recognizes what he wants. He wants to forget every hurt; wants to forget every word and every thought. He wants to be surrounded and taken over, inside and out.
He says, “Yes.” His voice is rough. He feels the resulting tremor in Blaine.
Blaine angles his hips and presses Kurt’s body into the door. Kurt keeps one hand clenched in Blaine’s shirt and runs the other into Blaine’s hair. He tugs Blaine’s head back slightly. Blaine’s darkened eyes focus slowly. He lets out a shuddering breath and Kurt watches his upper lip curl a little at the corner. There’s a heady power in knowing that Kurt can still draw Blaine to shrug off all the polite behavior that’s been instilled in him. Kurt presses his lips against Blaine’s neck. He shifts to kiss under Blaine’s jawline, and Blaine’s body seems to crumple against him.
When they break apart Blaine takes Kurt’s hand and tugs him into the kitchen.
“Bedroom,” says Kurt with what he hopes is convincing authority, but Blaine pours two glasses of water and hands one to him. He steps away from Kurt and Kurt watches.
Blaine’s hair is looser than he used to wear it. It curls a little. He’s wearing a charcoal Romeo & David shirt that fits him perfectly and slim fit red pants. It’s kind of a catastrophe how many things Kurt still loves about this man. Kurt plants his glass on the bench firmly, meets Blaine’s eyes and leans closer. They kiss with water-cooled mouths. Kurt presses his tongue into Blaine’s mouth and Blaine moans as he closes his eyes.
“Seriously. Bed,” says Kurt close to Blaine’s ear. “I want you to fuck me.”
Blaine stills for a moment.
“Please,” says Kurt. It’s been years, but the truth is Blaine could never say no to Kurt when Kurt said please.
Once they’re in the bedroom, Kurt unbuttons his shirt and slides steadily out of his jeans. Blaine watches for a second and then takes off his own clothes. Blaine is perfect naked, just so faultlessly put together, and it aches inside Kurt like an old wound. Everything is colored with betrayals, his own and others, old and new. He’s turned on, yes, but he’s wound up and angry too.
“God. Kurt.” Blaine’s voice is soft and his eyes warm and this innate tenderness is maybe the last thing Kurt wants.
He pushes Blaine backwards onto the bed and straddles him. Blaine raises his eyebrows but Kurt grinds his ass down against Blaine’s. Blaine’s cock is hard against him. He moans as Kurt runs his hands up Blaine’s chest.
“I want you. Deep inside me,” Kurt says. “I want your balls slamming up against me.” He watches Blaine’s eyes dilate further before he twists his body to pull Blaine down on top of him. Everything is just skin to hot skin.
“Supplies?” Kurt asks.
Blaine reaches wordlessly for a bedside drawer and pulls out a condom and lube. Kurt rolls over beneath him. He leans forward on his bent arms and spreads his thighs. His ass is cocked in the air. If he’s confident of anything it’s that he looks good like this, even though the deference inherent in the position doesn’t come easily to him. It’s certainly not how they ever did this before which he supposes is largely the point.
He shudders as Blaine plants one hand on his hip and traces his hole with a slicked finger. They’re both significantly more experienced than they used be. Blaine’s knees slide between Kurt’s and he sits his weight back onto his heels. His breathing is unsteady. “You can start with two fingers,” Kurt says.
Kurt knows why he’s doing this. He is aware that he wants to incontrovertibly separate this whole thing from those early times sharing a bed where they gazed soulfully into each other’s eyes and fumbled their way through new love. This is different.
He moans, deep and shaking, as Blaine pushes two fingers inside him and twists them smoothly and repeatedly. He doesn’t need to ask for more, Blaine is already pushing a third finger in to stretch Kurt further. Kurt shifts his hips back, fucking himself on Blaine’s fingers. “Inside me,” he manages on another moan. “Please Blaine.”
It’s a loss when Blaine removes his fingers. But then Blaine presses the tip of his cock into Kurt and rocks gently forward. Kurt supports himself on one arm and reaches the other back to ineffectively tug at Blaine’s hips. “More,” he manages.
Blaine groans as he thrusts far inside Kurt. Kurt’s arms give out under him. He drops his body forward and leans into the bed. His cock rubs against the bed. He feels opened up, stretched and crowded with Blaine’s hips tight against his ass and Blaine’s hot breath on his neck.
“God, you feel incredible,” says Blaine as he starts moving faster, pushing deeper into Kurt. He shifts angles and his cock presses against Kurt’s prostrate. Kurt gasps. He lets his hips thud back harder into Blaine’s as they find a tempo.
Blaine reaches an arm around Kurt’s hips and lifts them up a little from the bed. He grasps Kurt’s cock in one lubed hand. Kurt bites back a cry. He buries his face in the bed. Blaine wraps his hand about Kurt’s cock and moves rhythmically. The pleasure builds like a bright current in Kurt’s spine. He thrusts mindlessly forward into Blaine’s fist and back onto Blaine’s cock. He can’t stop himself from grunting into his release. He comes hard on a sob.
“Fuck, Kurt… fuck…” Blaine falls apart above him. He pumps his cock into Kurt over and over as he comes. His body is shuddering; his mouth open and gasping against the skin of Kurt’s back. Blaine holds himself there, thighs trembling between Kurt’s as he rides out the last of his orgasm.
He drops gentle kisses to Kurt’s shoulder blades as he pulls out slowly. It’s sweet and it’s wholly agonising. Kurt is just glad he has his face turned into the bed so Blaine can’t see the tears that fill his eyes. But he has never been able to hide his emotions. At some point he’ll have to come up, if only to breathe.
Blaine tips himself over onto one side and lies beside Kurt. He runs a hand across Kurt’s back. Kurt’s breath catches a little inside his chest. He rolls over to face away from Blaine.
“Okay, just let me-” Kurt says. “I just.” He takes a shaky breath.
“Kurt?” Kurt feels like he’s frozen where he lies. “Please look at me,” says Blaine.
Kurt takes a breath and turns to look at Blaine over his shoulder.
“Kurt,” Blaine says on an exhale. “Are you- Did I-“ He blinks helplessly.
“I’m sorry.” Kurt says. “Blaine I am so sorry. I just need to- clear my head.” Kurt turns and reaches for his clothing. “I need to go.” Blaine is silent as Kurt pulls his pants and shirt on.
He has to sit on the bed to tie his boots.
“Just give me a second,” says Blaine. He is grabbing a t-shirt and boxers and pulling them on. “I’ll call you a cab.”
Kurt can’t stand the idea of waiting here in Blaine’s apartment with Blaine. “I’ll find one on the street,” he says.
“Please, Kurt.”
When Kurt meets Blaine’s eyes it is simply unspeakable.
“I’ll be fine,” he says. “It’s okay. I’m so sorry. This will be fine.” He can feel Blaine’s gaze on his back as he walks out.
Chapter 7