Green Apple Sunsets [klaine standalone, nc-17]
Title: Green Apple Sunsets
Author: silver_etoile
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Glee/Fox/their creators.
Summary: “That was the song you sang the first time we met,” Kurt says, rising from the floor where he’s been attempting to organize the boxes into something other than a mess. He joins Blaine at the window, smiling softly when Blaine’s hand entwines with his.
A/N: for silverdragon87 aka AJ Anders as a ... present? for getting a job, yay!
*
“You make me feel like I’m living a teenage dre-”
“Ugh, turn that off.”
Kurt looks up as Blaine appears, setting down the last of his boxes on the floor of the now-cluttered apartment. It’s not so much an apartment as a tiny square with four walls and a working sink, but it’s still an apartment.
The stereo sits on the windowsill and Blaine maneuvers between the boxes to turn it off when Kurt doesn’t, pausing to stare out the window.
The city of New York looms up outside the window - grey, tall buildings tower over their apartment and down below, little planted trees sprout up every ten feet. The sky is a cloudless blue at the moment, only a light haze of smog drifting across it.
“That was the song you sang the first time we met,” Kurt says, rising from the floor where he’s been attempting to organize the boxes into something other than a mess. He joins Blaine at the window, smiling softly when Blaine’s hand entwines with his.
“Yeah,” Blaine agrees. “I was such an idiot back then.”
“No,” Kurt disagrees softly but doesn’t go on. A pigeon flies across their vision, swooping down to land on the concrete and peck at the cracks.
The silence fills the apartment for a moment but it’s never been awkward. Kurt doesn’t think it’s possible to be.
“I can’t believe this is actually… I mean.” Blaine smiles, turning around to take in the cluttered living room. They haven’t even begun to unpack or decorate although Kurt already has a million ideas. “I can’t believe your dad agreed to it.”
Kurt steps away from Blaine, pulling open a box and finding a stack of books inside. They’re Blaine’s, all classical literature and things Kurt prefers to watch in movie form, or musical form if available.
“He actually tried to give me ‘the talk’ again,” he says, pulling out a battered copy of A Tale of Two Cities. “Like I’m going to get pregnant or something.”
Blaine doesn’t hide his smile, coming up behind Kurt and wrapping his arms around his waist. He presses a kiss to the back of Kurt’s neck and sighs contently. “He’s a few years too late, don’t you think?”
“Three years.”
“Two and a half,” Blaine corrects him, brushing his nose against the back of Kurt’s neck as they stand there. “I remember you were shaking like a leaf.”
“You weren’t so perfect yourself.”
Blaine pulls him in closer, hooking his chin over Kurt’s shoulder and staring at the blank wall before them. “I was terrified,” he admits. “Scared I was going to mess it up.”
“You can’t mess up sex,” Kurt scoffs, but Blaine smiles.
“How would you know? Who else have you slept with?”
“No one,” Kurt says, turning around in Blaine’s arms and reaching to push a stray curl out of his eyes. “No one.”
Blaine leans in to kiss him and Kurt’s arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him in flush and kissing him back.
His heart pounds, a heavy thudding rhythm against his rib cage as they kiss, and he’s short of breath, a mix between panic and excitement, although panic is currently winning out. His hands twine in Blaine’s hair and Blaine’s hand anchors in his shirt, already rucked up past his waist.
“B-Blaine,” he mumbles, breathless as Blaine’s mouth moves back, and he can only stare at the redness of his lips, the flush in his cheeks. “I don’t know…”
Blaine breathes heavily, chest moving with each breath and he stares down with bright eyes, mouth hanging open a centimeter or two. He licks his lips finally and shifts on top of Kurt.
“We, we don’t have to,” he breathes quietly, shaking his head and panting out a breath.
Kurt just swallows, though, and bites back the tremble in his lip, pulling Blaine back down.
“So,” Blaine breathes as they part and he glances around the apartment. “How about we take a break?”
“We haven’t even started,” Kurt points out, but Blaine’s got that loveable smile on his face that Kurt just can’t say no to. Sighing, he raises his hands to his hips instead in an attempt at skepticism. “What do you suggest?”
“Coffee?”
“What a surprise,” Kurt says but he can’t help smiling this time when Blaine grabs his hand and tugs him towards the door. “Should we find all the cafes in a five mile radius?”
“Already done.” Blaine holds up his phone triumphantly. Kurt only shakes his head, a smile at the corner of his lips as Blaine pulls open the door.
“This is why I love you.”
“And I thought it was my skin-tight jeans,” Blaine replies, tugging him out the door and shutting it behind them.
“You’ve never worn anything skin tight.”
Blaine pauses as he locks the door tightly and slips the keys in his pocket. “Maybe we could change that.”
Kurt arches an eyebrow. “Really?”
Blaine grins and tugs him down the hall without answering.
*
Kurt has his usual coffee but he swears it tastes better than normal. Maybe it’s that he’s drinking it out of a mug instead of a paper cup or maybe it’s because the café is small and right on a corner and it feels as if New York is spilling in the doorway. Or maybe it’s because Blaine is sitting across from him, grinning behind his cup and periodically humming along to the Sinatra tune playing in the background.
“What?” Kurt asks finally when Blaine doesn’t stop.
Blaine sets down his cup with a soft clunk on the table and scoots forward slightly up to the round little table. “I just can’t believe this actually happened.”
“Of course it did,” Kurt says matter-of-factly, watching the smile grow on Blaine’s face.
“You were always so confident about these things,” he says. “Even when I had no idea.”
Setting down his own cup, Kurt leans forward too. “I was just a hopeless optimist or a masochist if you count my ridiculous crushes on straight guys.”
Blaine smiles and reaches forward to brush Kurt’s hair from his eyes. “I don’t.”
“Then what do you count?”
Blaine pauses thoughtfully and his hand falls from Kurt’s face, landing on his leg below the table.
Blaine’s fingers dig into his thigh, sliding up, and Kurt whines. It’s a noise he’s never heard himself make before. Mixed between the panted breaths and unintentional noises, Kurt can hear the thudding of blood in his ears. It matches the pulse in his cock, steady and hard.
Skin slides against skin, too pale, too thin, too awkward, but he reaches for Blaine’s side, digging into the taut muscles, stretching back. Blaine’s mouth skims down his neck, shaky when he pulls away, a hot puff of nervousness against his collar bone.
Biting his lip, Kurt stares at the too-white ceiling of his bedroom, tries to remember how to breathe - in and out, in and out - and clutches at the covers with his free hand.
“Kurt?” Blaine asks a second later, hand on the inside of his thigh, inches away from touching him for real, from going that extra step. “Are you sure?”
Blaine’s eyes are dark and there’s a light beading of sweat on his neck and across his collar bone, shiny in the light coming in through the window.
“Yeah,” Kurt breathes through the flutter in his stomach, the rush of heat that spreads through his body. “Yes.”
Blaine nods and reaches over to grab a tube of lube off the covers while Kurt closes his eyes and takes a steady breath.
“I count your heart which is always in everything,” Blaine says, leaning back and pulling the sugar towards him.
Kurt pauses a moment, watching Blaine, the way he sips his coffee and pushes up the sleeves of his grey cardigan, and Kurt thinks that he should have gone to a school like Princeton instead of NYU. He’s happy he didn’t, though.
It’s Blaine’s turn to ask, “What?” when Kurt smiles at him.
“Remember those pamphlets?” Kurt asks and Blaine groans, covering his eyes for a second.
“You didn’t bring them with you, did you?”
Kurt chuckles. “Pretty sure I threw them out two hours after my dad gave them to me. He wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been for you.”
“I was just trying to protect you,” Blaine says honestly, dark eyes wide, and Kurt doesn’t doubt him for a second. “And educate you.”
“For later,” Kurt adds mischievously, and he could swear Blaine blushes even after all this time.
He straightens up after a minute, though. “Well, a man’s got a right to protect his home and his loved ones, right?”
Kurt doesn’t laugh into his coffee as he nods. “He loves me so, that funny hunny of mine.”
*
“I was thinking blue,” Kurt says as he sits on a box, gazing around the box-filled living room while Blaine lugs them to the right rooms, wiping away the sweat on his brow as he glances at Kurt. “Like sea foam blue with an eggshell white for the accents. What do you think?”
“I think we should get a big screen to watch football on,” Blaine replies, laughing at the way Kurt’s lips press together. “Kurt, we haven’t even unpacked yet.”
“Which is the best time to decorate,” Kurt points out firmly.
Blaine grabs another box from the floor and totes it off to the tiny little bedroom. His voice comes back to Kurt from inside the room. “I don’t think we’re allowed to paint anyway.”
“Semantics.” Kurt waves him off, crossing his legs and taking in the room which looks slightly bigger now that some of the boxes are in their rightful rooms. There’s even a box in the kitchen but Kurt’s fairly sure that Blaine knows nothing about cooking.
“No, lease,” Blaine says, coming back in the living room and sinking down onto the box next to Kurt. “Besides, we won’t be here longer than a year or two.”
“You don’t plan on staying in New York after college?” he asks, a pinch of nerves starting in his stomach.
“Well, we don’t know what’s going to happen,” Blaine points out calmly as if he’s said nothing out of the ordinary. He shrugs, eyes on the kitchen, but when he looks at Kurt, he catches the hint of confusion and hurt on his face. “Oh! No, no, Kurt, not like that. I just meant that we might go somewhere else like London or somewhere. I didn’t mean anything about breaking up.”
Kurt takes a second, thoughts filled with sea foam blue and eggshell white, brown boxes and the honey-hazel of Blaine’s eyes. He’s brought out of it by Blaine’s hand touching his shoulder gently. He looks at him, catching the earnestness there.
“You believe me, don’t you?”
“D-don’t say, just-” Kurt bites his lower lip, cheeks flushed red and he can feel the heat on every inch of his skin, everywhere Blaine’s fingers brush. There’s a pinch of pain, flaring stronger as Blaine pushes in. He goes slowly but Kurt doesn’t think it can possibly fit.
Blaine’s eyes dart over Kurt’s body, his knees pushed up to his shoulders, feet locked behind his back. Kurt’s heels skid on Blaine’s lower back as Blaine inches in. It’s a slow burn and Kurt swears he’s burning up.
Stretching back, he can feel the heat radiating off of Blaine’s body, the pressure inside him, foreign and so strange and too intimate. He jerks at Blaine’s mouth pressed against his throat, soft and careful. Taking a deep breath, he forces his hand to unwind from the wrinkled sheet, stretching out the cricks in his fingers. He gasps sharply at the last push and then Blaine is inside him, stretching and filling. His eyes flutter shut as he pants for much-needed breath.
“Okay?” Blaine asks, breathless and barely controlling the way his hand shakes as he brushes Kurt’s sweaty hair off his forehead. “Is this, are you, is it okay?”
Kurt meets Blaine’s eyes. “Yeah,” he says because he always believes Blaine. The fear seems to melt away and Blaine nods.
“Good,” he says, “’cause you know I’m crazy about you.”
“I do,” Kurt agrees, smiling into the kiss as Blaine leans over, drawing his chin up and lingering a moment.
Blaine pulls back slowly, glancing up at the walls. “Maybe sea foam green instead.”
“Green?” Kurt asks, eyebrows rising. “Green doesn’t go well with my coloring.”
“You look great in anything,” Blaine replies, smirking slightly. “Even a skirt.”
“It was a kilt,” Kurt corrects him, “and if I recall correctly, you had no objections.”
Blaine shakes his head, still smirking. “None at all.” His eyes glitter as he looks at Kurt, fingers smoothing down the hair on the back of his head. “You don’t still have it in one of these boxes, do you?”
Kurt arches an eyebrow and he could swear Blaine blushes again, but he just smiles and bites his lip.
“Skin-tight jeans then skirts. Is there something you haven’t told me?”
Kurt can definitely feel the heat of the blush when Blaine kisses him again, slow and easy, fingers grazing down his jaw.
“No, of course not,” Blaine murmurs minutes later, ducking Kurt’s gaze as he pulls away and there’s a knock on the door.
Kurt watches him for a second, but the knock comes again.
“That’s probably Rachel. She said she’d come by,” he says, and Blaine smiles, nodding.
Casting a last glance at Blaine, Kurt rises and goes to answer the door.
*
“You guys are so lucky,” Rachel says, waving her fork at the two of them as they sit in a different café, the sun slowly setting outside and New Yorkers getting off work and walking home in their suits and ties. “I’m still in the dorms and my roommate is going to drive me insane.”
Kurt doesn’t voice his opinion that he’d love to meet someone who annoys Rachel. Blaine’s hand is resting on his leg and gives it a squeeze as if he knows exactly what he’s thinking. Kurt just plasters on a smile instead.
“Think of it as character building,” he says, and Rachel huffs dramatically, spearing a tomato.
“I suppose I’ll bear it with dignity,” she says loftily. “But she better keep her hands off my hairbrush.” She sighs, popping the tomato into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully, looking between the two of them. “So who’s going to audition with me for Hello Dolly next week? I’ve already downloaded the music and I think we should start practicing right away. I’ll be Dolly, of course.”
Blaine picks at his chicken as Rachel goes on, and Kurt reaches over, sliding a hand down to his lower back and playing with the hem of his cardigan. Blaine’s eyes flick to him but he says nothing when Kurt leans into him, head resting against his shoulder.
Kurt can smell Blaine’s shampoo, a bright apple scent, and he nods at whatever Rachel says next.
The headboard bumps against the wall and Kurt’s fingers dig into Blaine’s waist, too tight, but he can’t think. There’s a sheen of sweat between their bodies, a throb of heat that prevents Kurt from doing anything but gripping harder and letting out a choked noise.
Blaine’s open mouth is hot against Kurt’s jaw, tongue flicking against his skin as Kurt gasps for breath. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to breathe normally again. His cock is only half hard now but it doesn’t hurt as much, doesn’t feel as weird with Blaine inside him, thrusting unevenly. Blaine pants shakily against his jaw with each push and Kurt forces his eyes open, watching Blaine disappear inside him.
“K-Kurt,” Blaine manages to whisper before he groans and buries his face in Kurt’s neck and all Kurt can smell is apples.
“You’re not going to try out for six musicals in one semester, are you?” Kurt asks when Rachel takes a breath from explaining why she identified best with Dolly. “Because last year was a disaster.”
Rachel sits up primly, eyeing Kurt. “This year I’ve decided to go with a much more streamlined schedule. I can handle it. So are you auditioning or not?”
Blaine smiles. “Of course we are.”
Rachel looks pleased and launches into their practice schedule as Kurt tries to catch their server’s attention for the bill.
*
Blaine unlocks the door to the apartment, stepping inside and leaving it unlocked since Kurt has stopped off at Rachel’s dorm for a minute.
Everything looks so clean and fresh, and it makes Blaine’s heart swell to think of what they’re really starting now. Their first apartment together. Their first apartment period. It’s all so unbelievable.
Setting down the keys on the counter, he wanders into the bedroom and smiles at the queen size mattress lying on the carpet. The room is barely big enough to fit it, but it fits all the same. The boxes have been stacked neatly against the wall and there’s a lone lamp on top of one. Blaine flicks it on, watching the yellow glow cast over the mattress, creating shadows on the walls.
At the sound of the door opening, he turns back.
“That was quick,” he says as he reaches the living room and Kurt is locking the door behind him.
“Just had to get something,” Kurt replies, turning to Blaine and smiling. “And I think you should go into the bedroom and wait a minute.”
Blaine’s eyebrows quirk interestedly. “What is this?”
“It’s a surprise,” Kurt replies, giving him a little push. “So go get comfortable.”
Unsure, Blaine follows orders and lets Kurt shut the door behind him. The room is darker without the light from the living room, but Blaine hops onto the mattress and pulls off his cardigan. It gets dumped on a box since they don’t have any other furniture yet. He toes off his shoes and pulls off his socks.
Sitting back against the wall, he taps his fingers slowly, waiting.
Finally, the door creaks open and Kurt steps inside. He doesn’t look any different, and Blaine cocks his head to the side.
“Kurt?”
“Just hold on,” Kurt replies simply and starts to take off his jacket. It falls to the floor with a flump but he takes more care as he strips off his shirt underneath and folds it before dropping it on the jacket.
Kurt takes a step forward, and Blaine smiles, but his breath catches in his throat as Kurt undoes the button of his jeans and pushes them down a few inches. Below, there’s a glimmer of dark green, shiny fabric, and Blaine’s throat goes dry.
“Kurt, what-” is all he gets out before he can’t speak anymore, can do nothing but stare as the jeans go down and he’s faced with Kurt in a pair of silk underwear, complete with frilly lace around the edges. “Wait, Rachel didn’t-”
“They’re brand new, still had the tag,” Kurt assures him, stepping out of his jeans and sinking down onto the mattress above Blaine. He glances down, almost nervously. “What do you think?”
Blaine only mouths silently, trying to find the words, but he can’t and so shakes his head. “You…”
Kurt smiles, a brief breath of relief coming, and he scoots forward. Their hips press together, and even through Blaine’s jeans, Kurt can feel the stirring interest.
“I put two and two together,” he murmurs, leaning forward to Blaine’s mouth.
The kiss is smooth, nothing like the first time they did this. There’s no shaking, no worry, no uncertainty, just two people wanting the same thing.
He shivers when Blaine’s hands anchor on his hips, thumbs brushing eagerly against the silk. Their mouths slide together, teeth sinking into lips, tongues pressing together. Breaths exchange hotly, panted for air between them, a tilt of a head, a low groan.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kurt asks moments later when Blaine’s fingers are twisted in the silk, and Kurt can feel the definite hardness between Blaine’s legs now. He feels Blaine shift beneath him, trying not to press upwards against him. Kurt takes the opportunity to pull Blaine’s shirt over his head and admire the way he flushes from his chest up to the apples of his cheeks.
“It’s embarrassing,” Blaine mutters, reaching with his free hand to trace Kurt’s collar bone, and he gasps sharply when Kurt thrusts down slightly, cocks rubbing together through the thin layers of fabric.
Kurt smiles, leaning in to mouth the patch of skin behind Blaine’s ear, the one he knows will make him go boneless, and it does, drawing out a shaky moan.
“I wore a Lady Gaga outfit to public high school. I was in the Glee club. We were kings of embarrassment.”
Blaine doesn’t look convinced when Kurt pulls back, but his expression changes when Kurt grinds down again, working against his hard prick, rocking up until Blaine can’t remember why he’d said anything.
“God, Kurt,” he breathes instead, fingers tightening around his hip, pushing up with him this time. “You’re gonna make me come in my pants.”
“Can’t have that,” Kurt replies, sliding his mouth down Blaine’s neck, nipping at his collar bone and tracing down to his sternum with his tongue. Blaine squirms beneath him, making vague half-formed sentences about his mouth and how he’s the best boyfriend ever.
Kurt’s fingers work the button to Blaine’s pants, getting it undone with minimal trouble. He pulls the pants down quickly, mouth sucking a hickey onto Blaine’s right hip while Blaine groans above him.
Blaine kicks off what’s left, hauling Kurt back up into a heated kiss, hungry and reckless. Kurt doesn’t fight it when Blaine drags their hips together. He groans into the kiss, gasping at the flash of heat that races through his body at the contact. The silk is smooth against his skin, cool to the touch, a stark contrast to the way his cock is throbbing, rubbing against Blaine’s.
“Fuck me,” he manages to gasp between kisses. “Please, Blaine.”
He starts to reach for the panties but Blaine’s hand stops him.
“Leave them on,” Blaine whispers, voice low and rough, and Kurt doesn’t even think to disobey. He just nods uselessly against Blaine’s mouth and reaches over, hand searching blindly for the box where all the bedroom things should be. “Here.”
Blaine pushes them up slightly, bodies still touching, and Kurt pushes his hips against Blaine’s again, a hard rut, desperate for more contact.
Blaine curses under his breath, one hand on Kurt’s lower back keeping him there, the other dragging a box closer and fumbling to open it and dig inside. Finally, he finds what he wants and shoves the box away. It falls over, spilling the rest of its contents on the floor, but neither care.
“Come here,” Blaine mutters although Kurt is as close as he can get and they settle back down. Blaine tears open the condom and rolls it on, pushing Kurt away so he can reach.
Pulling Kurt back, he lets Kurt push himself up, and finds himself staring at the bulge underneath the green silk. Swallowing, he pulls himself together, sliding a hand underneath the fabric and pushing it aside. It might be awkward but he can’t shake the idea, and his cock is practically vibrating with excitement.
He gets a finger inside Kurt, slick with lube, listening for the telltale hitch of breath which comes almost immediately. He tears his eyes away from the panties to watch Kurt’s mouth fall open, the way his hips grind back almost involuntarily. Pushing in a second finger, he watches the way Kurt’s face changes, how the flush rises in his cheeks.
“Ready?” Blaine asks although he’s not really waiting for the answer, and it does come in a barely nodded head.
Kurt is the first to move, reaching for Blaine’s cock and squeezing the base, slick with lube, watching Blaine moan and let his head fall back against the mattress with a flump. He scoots up, pulling Blaine’s fingers away, one hand keeping the hem of the underwear back as he eases down, slides onto Blaine’s prick.
It still sends shocks through his spine, tingles on his skin as he lets himself sink down, the hardness filling him, pushing deep inside him.
“Shit,” Blaine breathes as he watches, but Kurt doesn’t let the moment last.
He moves quickly, grinding down onto Blaine’s cock, wanting the hardness, the burn of going a bit too fast, the bruising from Blaine’s fingers pulling him down faster, one hand squeezing his ass, slipping on the silk.
The rhythm he sets matches Blaine’s, hurried, a little too rushed, but they’ve got plenty of time for everything else. He swallows thickly, panting into the quiet apartment, fucking himself rougher than they normally do, but Blaine doesn’t ask if he’s okay and doesn’t stop him.
“Kurt, Kurt,” Blaine mumbles, pulling him into a messy kiss that’s too much teeth and tongues, bit out curses and reddened lips.
Blaine’s hand goes for Kurt’s cock, wrapping around it outside of the fabric. He can feel all the ridges even though the panties, and he hears Kurt’s sharp breath.
Kurt’s heart is pounding and he grinds back down against Blaine’s cock, rocking into him, sharing the heavy air between, watching the flicker of yellow lamplight over Blaine’s shoulders and the red flush on the tops of his shoulders.
Blaine’s hand rubs Kurt through the silk, pushing harder, faster, as he feels Kurt tensing up on his cock, moving less carefully now, losing the rhythm. He can barely hold back his groan and his curses as Kurt twists down and he feels a sharp tug on his gut, a snap of pressure, and his fingers close around the edge of the panties, tugging hard as he comes.
The sound of ripping fabric accompanies his moan of release, hips thrusting up into Kurt, forcing him to take more, and Kurt does it willingly.
Kurt moves faster, more hurried, less graceful now, just needing to get off, needing the release Blaine has. Blaine’s hand is still on his cock through the fabric but it pushes underneath it now, past the rip, wrapping around and stroking hard.
It’s only seconds before Kurt groans, biting Blaine’s shoulder as he comes, panting for breath when Blaine finally pulls his hand away and wipes it off on the fabric.
Sighing, Kurt slides down, resting on top of Blaine and humming softly when Blaine’s fingers card through his hair.
“I told you you looked good in anything,” he says, and Kurt smiles, closing his eyes and feeling Blaine’s free hand fingering the ripped fabric. “I guess Rachel doesn’t want these back.”
“I don’t think she ever did,” Kurt agrees, grinning when Blaine kisses his cheek and slides back down.
Kurt glances over at Blaine, their fingers barely touching as they lay there, afternoon sun streaming in through the window. They’re still breathing hard, and Kurt doesn’t know what to say.
Blaine moves first, meeting his eyes and moving his hand awkwardly to stroke Kurt’s face. “I love you, you know?”
Kurt nods. “Yeah, I know,” he says, hesitating a second but curling into Blaine when Blaine rolls over and reaches for him. Blaine tucks his chin over Kurt’s shoulder, sighing.
“I’ll always be here, Kurt, always.”
A smile makes its way to Kurt’s face and he nods, curling in closer. He’s not worried. He’s never worried with Blaine.
He just finds Blaine’s mouth for a soft kiss, pushing back his hair and smiling when it breaks. Blaine kisses him on the cheek as they settle in and Kurt can’t help smiling as he wraps himself in Blaine’s arms and watches the blue sky outside.
FIN.
Author: silver_etoile
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Glee/Fox/their creators.
Summary: “That was the song you sang the first time we met,” Kurt says, rising from the floor where he’s been attempting to organize the boxes into something other than a mess. He joins Blaine at the window, smiling softly when Blaine’s hand entwines with his.
A/N: for silverdragon87 aka AJ Anders as a ... present? for getting a job, yay!
*
“You make me feel like I’m living a teenage dre-”
“Ugh, turn that off.”
Kurt looks up as Blaine appears, setting down the last of his boxes on the floor of the now-cluttered apartment. It’s not so much an apartment as a tiny square with four walls and a working sink, but it’s still an apartment.
The stereo sits on the windowsill and Blaine maneuvers between the boxes to turn it off when Kurt doesn’t, pausing to stare out the window.
The city of New York looms up outside the window - grey, tall buildings tower over their apartment and down below, little planted trees sprout up every ten feet. The sky is a cloudless blue at the moment, only a light haze of smog drifting across it.
“That was the song you sang the first time we met,” Kurt says, rising from the floor where he’s been attempting to organize the boxes into something other than a mess. He joins Blaine at the window, smiling softly when Blaine’s hand entwines with his.
“Yeah,” Blaine agrees. “I was such an idiot back then.”
“No,” Kurt disagrees softly but doesn’t go on. A pigeon flies across their vision, swooping down to land on the concrete and peck at the cracks.
The silence fills the apartment for a moment but it’s never been awkward. Kurt doesn’t think it’s possible to be.
“I can’t believe this is actually… I mean.” Blaine smiles, turning around to take in the cluttered living room. They haven’t even begun to unpack or decorate although Kurt already has a million ideas. “I can’t believe your dad agreed to it.”
Kurt steps away from Blaine, pulling open a box and finding a stack of books inside. They’re Blaine’s, all classical literature and things Kurt prefers to watch in movie form, or musical form if available.
“He actually tried to give me ‘the talk’ again,” he says, pulling out a battered copy of A Tale of Two Cities. “Like I’m going to get pregnant or something.”
Blaine doesn’t hide his smile, coming up behind Kurt and wrapping his arms around his waist. He presses a kiss to the back of Kurt’s neck and sighs contently. “He’s a few years too late, don’t you think?”
“Three years.”
“Two and a half,” Blaine corrects him, brushing his nose against the back of Kurt’s neck as they stand there. “I remember you were shaking like a leaf.”
“You weren’t so perfect yourself.”
Blaine pulls him in closer, hooking his chin over Kurt’s shoulder and staring at the blank wall before them. “I was terrified,” he admits. “Scared I was going to mess it up.”
“You can’t mess up sex,” Kurt scoffs, but Blaine smiles.
“How would you know? Who else have you slept with?”
“No one,” Kurt says, turning around in Blaine’s arms and reaching to push a stray curl out of his eyes. “No one.”
Blaine leans in to kiss him and Kurt’s arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him in flush and kissing him back.
His heart pounds, a heavy thudding rhythm against his rib cage as they kiss, and he’s short of breath, a mix between panic and excitement, although panic is currently winning out. His hands twine in Blaine’s hair and Blaine’s hand anchors in his shirt, already rucked up past his waist.
“B-Blaine,” he mumbles, breathless as Blaine’s mouth moves back, and he can only stare at the redness of his lips, the flush in his cheeks. “I don’t know…”
Blaine breathes heavily, chest moving with each breath and he stares down with bright eyes, mouth hanging open a centimeter or two. He licks his lips finally and shifts on top of Kurt.
“We, we don’t have to,” he breathes quietly, shaking his head and panting out a breath.
Kurt just swallows, though, and bites back the tremble in his lip, pulling Blaine back down.
“So,” Blaine breathes as they part and he glances around the apartment. “How about we take a break?”
“We haven’t even started,” Kurt points out, but Blaine’s got that loveable smile on his face that Kurt just can’t say no to. Sighing, he raises his hands to his hips instead in an attempt at skepticism. “What do you suggest?”
“Coffee?”
“What a surprise,” Kurt says but he can’t help smiling this time when Blaine grabs his hand and tugs him towards the door. “Should we find all the cafes in a five mile radius?”
“Already done.” Blaine holds up his phone triumphantly. Kurt only shakes his head, a smile at the corner of his lips as Blaine pulls open the door.
“This is why I love you.”
“And I thought it was my skin-tight jeans,” Blaine replies, tugging him out the door and shutting it behind them.
“You’ve never worn anything skin tight.”
Blaine pauses as he locks the door tightly and slips the keys in his pocket. “Maybe we could change that.”
Kurt arches an eyebrow. “Really?”
Blaine grins and tugs him down the hall without answering.
*
Kurt has his usual coffee but he swears it tastes better than normal. Maybe it’s that he’s drinking it out of a mug instead of a paper cup or maybe it’s because the café is small and right on a corner and it feels as if New York is spilling in the doorway. Or maybe it’s because Blaine is sitting across from him, grinning behind his cup and periodically humming along to the Sinatra tune playing in the background.
“What?” Kurt asks finally when Blaine doesn’t stop.
Blaine sets down his cup with a soft clunk on the table and scoots forward slightly up to the round little table. “I just can’t believe this actually happened.”
“Of course it did,” Kurt says matter-of-factly, watching the smile grow on Blaine’s face.
“You were always so confident about these things,” he says. “Even when I had no idea.”
Setting down his own cup, Kurt leans forward too. “I was just a hopeless optimist or a masochist if you count my ridiculous crushes on straight guys.”
Blaine smiles and reaches forward to brush Kurt’s hair from his eyes. “I don’t.”
“Then what do you count?”
Blaine pauses thoughtfully and his hand falls from Kurt’s face, landing on his leg below the table.
Blaine’s fingers dig into his thigh, sliding up, and Kurt whines. It’s a noise he’s never heard himself make before. Mixed between the panted breaths and unintentional noises, Kurt can hear the thudding of blood in his ears. It matches the pulse in his cock, steady and hard.
Skin slides against skin, too pale, too thin, too awkward, but he reaches for Blaine’s side, digging into the taut muscles, stretching back. Blaine’s mouth skims down his neck, shaky when he pulls away, a hot puff of nervousness against his collar bone.
Biting his lip, Kurt stares at the too-white ceiling of his bedroom, tries to remember how to breathe - in and out, in and out - and clutches at the covers with his free hand.
“Kurt?” Blaine asks a second later, hand on the inside of his thigh, inches away from touching him for real, from going that extra step. “Are you sure?”
Blaine’s eyes are dark and there’s a light beading of sweat on his neck and across his collar bone, shiny in the light coming in through the window.
“Yeah,” Kurt breathes through the flutter in his stomach, the rush of heat that spreads through his body. “Yes.”
Blaine nods and reaches over to grab a tube of lube off the covers while Kurt closes his eyes and takes a steady breath.
“I count your heart which is always in everything,” Blaine says, leaning back and pulling the sugar towards him.
Kurt pauses a moment, watching Blaine, the way he sips his coffee and pushes up the sleeves of his grey cardigan, and Kurt thinks that he should have gone to a school like Princeton instead of NYU. He’s happy he didn’t, though.
It’s Blaine’s turn to ask, “What?” when Kurt smiles at him.
“Remember those pamphlets?” Kurt asks and Blaine groans, covering his eyes for a second.
“You didn’t bring them with you, did you?”
Kurt chuckles. “Pretty sure I threw them out two hours after my dad gave them to me. He wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been for you.”
“I was just trying to protect you,” Blaine says honestly, dark eyes wide, and Kurt doesn’t doubt him for a second. “And educate you.”
“For later,” Kurt adds mischievously, and he could swear Blaine blushes even after all this time.
He straightens up after a minute, though. “Well, a man’s got a right to protect his home and his loved ones, right?”
Kurt doesn’t laugh into his coffee as he nods. “He loves me so, that funny hunny of mine.”
*
“I was thinking blue,” Kurt says as he sits on a box, gazing around the box-filled living room while Blaine lugs them to the right rooms, wiping away the sweat on his brow as he glances at Kurt. “Like sea foam blue with an eggshell white for the accents. What do you think?”
“I think we should get a big screen to watch football on,” Blaine replies, laughing at the way Kurt’s lips press together. “Kurt, we haven’t even unpacked yet.”
“Which is the best time to decorate,” Kurt points out firmly.
Blaine grabs another box from the floor and totes it off to the tiny little bedroom. His voice comes back to Kurt from inside the room. “I don’t think we’re allowed to paint anyway.”
“Semantics.” Kurt waves him off, crossing his legs and taking in the room which looks slightly bigger now that some of the boxes are in their rightful rooms. There’s even a box in the kitchen but Kurt’s fairly sure that Blaine knows nothing about cooking.
“No, lease,” Blaine says, coming back in the living room and sinking down onto the box next to Kurt. “Besides, we won’t be here longer than a year or two.”
“You don’t plan on staying in New York after college?” he asks, a pinch of nerves starting in his stomach.
“Well, we don’t know what’s going to happen,” Blaine points out calmly as if he’s said nothing out of the ordinary. He shrugs, eyes on the kitchen, but when he looks at Kurt, he catches the hint of confusion and hurt on his face. “Oh! No, no, Kurt, not like that. I just meant that we might go somewhere else like London or somewhere. I didn’t mean anything about breaking up.”
Kurt takes a second, thoughts filled with sea foam blue and eggshell white, brown boxes and the honey-hazel of Blaine’s eyes. He’s brought out of it by Blaine’s hand touching his shoulder gently. He looks at him, catching the earnestness there.
“You believe me, don’t you?”
“D-don’t say, just-” Kurt bites his lower lip, cheeks flushed red and he can feel the heat on every inch of his skin, everywhere Blaine’s fingers brush. There’s a pinch of pain, flaring stronger as Blaine pushes in. He goes slowly but Kurt doesn’t think it can possibly fit.
Blaine’s eyes dart over Kurt’s body, his knees pushed up to his shoulders, feet locked behind his back. Kurt’s heels skid on Blaine’s lower back as Blaine inches in. It’s a slow burn and Kurt swears he’s burning up.
Stretching back, he can feel the heat radiating off of Blaine’s body, the pressure inside him, foreign and so strange and too intimate. He jerks at Blaine’s mouth pressed against his throat, soft and careful. Taking a deep breath, he forces his hand to unwind from the wrinkled sheet, stretching out the cricks in his fingers. He gasps sharply at the last push and then Blaine is inside him, stretching and filling. His eyes flutter shut as he pants for much-needed breath.
“Okay?” Blaine asks, breathless and barely controlling the way his hand shakes as he brushes Kurt’s sweaty hair off his forehead. “Is this, are you, is it okay?”
Kurt meets Blaine’s eyes. “Yeah,” he says because he always believes Blaine. The fear seems to melt away and Blaine nods.
“Good,” he says, “’cause you know I’m crazy about you.”
“I do,” Kurt agrees, smiling into the kiss as Blaine leans over, drawing his chin up and lingering a moment.
Blaine pulls back slowly, glancing up at the walls. “Maybe sea foam green instead.”
“Green?” Kurt asks, eyebrows rising. “Green doesn’t go well with my coloring.”
“You look great in anything,” Blaine replies, smirking slightly. “Even a skirt.”
“It was a kilt,” Kurt corrects him, “and if I recall correctly, you had no objections.”
Blaine shakes his head, still smirking. “None at all.” His eyes glitter as he looks at Kurt, fingers smoothing down the hair on the back of his head. “You don’t still have it in one of these boxes, do you?”
Kurt arches an eyebrow and he could swear Blaine blushes again, but he just smiles and bites his lip.
“Skin-tight jeans then skirts. Is there something you haven’t told me?”
Kurt can definitely feel the heat of the blush when Blaine kisses him again, slow and easy, fingers grazing down his jaw.
“No, of course not,” Blaine murmurs minutes later, ducking Kurt’s gaze as he pulls away and there’s a knock on the door.
Kurt watches him for a second, but the knock comes again.
“That’s probably Rachel. She said she’d come by,” he says, and Blaine smiles, nodding.
Casting a last glance at Blaine, Kurt rises and goes to answer the door.
*
“You guys are so lucky,” Rachel says, waving her fork at the two of them as they sit in a different café, the sun slowly setting outside and New Yorkers getting off work and walking home in their suits and ties. “I’m still in the dorms and my roommate is going to drive me insane.”
Kurt doesn’t voice his opinion that he’d love to meet someone who annoys Rachel. Blaine’s hand is resting on his leg and gives it a squeeze as if he knows exactly what he’s thinking. Kurt just plasters on a smile instead.
“Think of it as character building,” he says, and Rachel huffs dramatically, spearing a tomato.
“I suppose I’ll bear it with dignity,” she says loftily. “But she better keep her hands off my hairbrush.” She sighs, popping the tomato into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully, looking between the two of them. “So who’s going to audition with me for Hello Dolly next week? I’ve already downloaded the music and I think we should start practicing right away. I’ll be Dolly, of course.”
Blaine picks at his chicken as Rachel goes on, and Kurt reaches over, sliding a hand down to his lower back and playing with the hem of his cardigan. Blaine’s eyes flick to him but he says nothing when Kurt leans into him, head resting against his shoulder.
Kurt can smell Blaine’s shampoo, a bright apple scent, and he nods at whatever Rachel says next.
The headboard bumps against the wall and Kurt’s fingers dig into Blaine’s waist, too tight, but he can’t think. There’s a sheen of sweat between their bodies, a throb of heat that prevents Kurt from doing anything but gripping harder and letting out a choked noise.
Blaine’s open mouth is hot against Kurt’s jaw, tongue flicking against his skin as Kurt gasps for breath. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to breathe normally again. His cock is only half hard now but it doesn’t hurt as much, doesn’t feel as weird with Blaine inside him, thrusting unevenly. Blaine pants shakily against his jaw with each push and Kurt forces his eyes open, watching Blaine disappear inside him.
“K-Kurt,” Blaine manages to whisper before he groans and buries his face in Kurt’s neck and all Kurt can smell is apples.
“You’re not going to try out for six musicals in one semester, are you?” Kurt asks when Rachel takes a breath from explaining why she identified best with Dolly. “Because last year was a disaster.”
Rachel sits up primly, eyeing Kurt. “This year I’ve decided to go with a much more streamlined schedule. I can handle it. So are you auditioning or not?”
Blaine smiles. “Of course we are.”
Rachel looks pleased and launches into their practice schedule as Kurt tries to catch their server’s attention for the bill.
*
Blaine unlocks the door to the apartment, stepping inside and leaving it unlocked since Kurt has stopped off at Rachel’s dorm for a minute.
Everything looks so clean and fresh, and it makes Blaine’s heart swell to think of what they’re really starting now. Their first apartment together. Their first apartment period. It’s all so unbelievable.
Setting down the keys on the counter, he wanders into the bedroom and smiles at the queen size mattress lying on the carpet. The room is barely big enough to fit it, but it fits all the same. The boxes have been stacked neatly against the wall and there’s a lone lamp on top of one. Blaine flicks it on, watching the yellow glow cast over the mattress, creating shadows on the walls.
At the sound of the door opening, he turns back.
“That was quick,” he says as he reaches the living room and Kurt is locking the door behind him.
“Just had to get something,” Kurt replies, turning to Blaine and smiling. “And I think you should go into the bedroom and wait a minute.”
Blaine’s eyebrows quirk interestedly. “What is this?”
“It’s a surprise,” Kurt replies, giving him a little push. “So go get comfortable.”
Unsure, Blaine follows orders and lets Kurt shut the door behind him. The room is darker without the light from the living room, but Blaine hops onto the mattress and pulls off his cardigan. It gets dumped on a box since they don’t have any other furniture yet. He toes off his shoes and pulls off his socks.
Sitting back against the wall, he taps his fingers slowly, waiting.
Finally, the door creaks open and Kurt steps inside. He doesn’t look any different, and Blaine cocks his head to the side.
“Kurt?”
“Just hold on,” Kurt replies simply and starts to take off his jacket. It falls to the floor with a flump but he takes more care as he strips off his shirt underneath and folds it before dropping it on the jacket.
Kurt takes a step forward, and Blaine smiles, but his breath catches in his throat as Kurt undoes the button of his jeans and pushes them down a few inches. Below, there’s a glimmer of dark green, shiny fabric, and Blaine’s throat goes dry.
“Kurt, what-” is all he gets out before he can’t speak anymore, can do nothing but stare as the jeans go down and he’s faced with Kurt in a pair of silk underwear, complete with frilly lace around the edges. “Wait, Rachel didn’t-”
“They’re brand new, still had the tag,” Kurt assures him, stepping out of his jeans and sinking down onto the mattress above Blaine. He glances down, almost nervously. “What do you think?”
Blaine only mouths silently, trying to find the words, but he can’t and so shakes his head. “You…”
Kurt smiles, a brief breath of relief coming, and he scoots forward. Their hips press together, and even through Blaine’s jeans, Kurt can feel the stirring interest.
“I put two and two together,” he murmurs, leaning forward to Blaine’s mouth.
The kiss is smooth, nothing like the first time they did this. There’s no shaking, no worry, no uncertainty, just two people wanting the same thing.
He shivers when Blaine’s hands anchor on his hips, thumbs brushing eagerly against the silk. Their mouths slide together, teeth sinking into lips, tongues pressing together. Breaths exchange hotly, panted for air between them, a tilt of a head, a low groan.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kurt asks moments later when Blaine’s fingers are twisted in the silk, and Kurt can feel the definite hardness between Blaine’s legs now. He feels Blaine shift beneath him, trying not to press upwards against him. Kurt takes the opportunity to pull Blaine’s shirt over his head and admire the way he flushes from his chest up to the apples of his cheeks.
“It’s embarrassing,” Blaine mutters, reaching with his free hand to trace Kurt’s collar bone, and he gasps sharply when Kurt thrusts down slightly, cocks rubbing together through the thin layers of fabric.
Kurt smiles, leaning in to mouth the patch of skin behind Blaine’s ear, the one he knows will make him go boneless, and it does, drawing out a shaky moan.
“I wore a Lady Gaga outfit to public high school. I was in the Glee club. We were kings of embarrassment.”
Blaine doesn’t look convinced when Kurt pulls back, but his expression changes when Kurt grinds down again, working against his hard prick, rocking up until Blaine can’t remember why he’d said anything.
“God, Kurt,” he breathes instead, fingers tightening around his hip, pushing up with him this time. “You’re gonna make me come in my pants.”
“Can’t have that,” Kurt replies, sliding his mouth down Blaine’s neck, nipping at his collar bone and tracing down to his sternum with his tongue. Blaine squirms beneath him, making vague half-formed sentences about his mouth and how he’s the best boyfriend ever.
Kurt’s fingers work the button to Blaine’s pants, getting it undone with minimal trouble. He pulls the pants down quickly, mouth sucking a hickey onto Blaine’s right hip while Blaine groans above him.
Blaine kicks off what’s left, hauling Kurt back up into a heated kiss, hungry and reckless. Kurt doesn’t fight it when Blaine drags their hips together. He groans into the kiss, gasping at the flash of heat that races through his body at the contact. The silk is smooth against his skin, cool to the touch, a stark contrast to the way his cock is throbbing, rubbing against Blaine’s.
“Fuck me,” he manages to gasp between kisses. “Please, Blaine.”
He starts to reach for the panties but Blaine’s hand stops him.
“Leave them on,” Blaine whispers, voice low and rough, and Kurt doesn’t even think to disobey. He just nods uselessly against Blaine’s mouth and reaches over, hand searching blindly for the box where all the bedroom things should be. “Here.”
Blaine pushes them up slightly, bodies still touching, and Kurt pushes his hips against Blaine’s again, a hard rut, desperate for more contact.
Blaine curses under his breath, one hand on Kurt’s lower back keeping him there, the other dragging a box closer and fumbling to open it and dig inside. Finally, he finds what he wants and shoves the box away. It falls over, spilling the rest of its contents on the floor, but neither care.
“Come here,” Blaine mutters although Kurt is as close as he can get and they settle back down. Blaine tears open the condom and rolls it on, pushing Kurt away so he can reach.
Pulling Kurt back, he lets Kurt push himself up, and finds himself staring at the bulge underneath the green silk. Swallowing, he pulls himself together, sliding a hand underneath the fabric and pushing it aside. It might be awkward but he can’t shake the idea, and his cock is practically vibrating with excitement.
He gets a finger inside Kurt, slick with lube, listening for the telltale hitch of breath which comes almost immediately. He tears his eyes away from the panties to watch Kurt’s mouth fall open, the way his hips grind back almost involuntarily. Pushing in a second finger, he watches the way Kurt’s face changes, how the flush rises in his cheeks.
“Ready?” Blaine asks although he’s not really waiting for the answer, and it does come in a barely nodded head.
Kurt is the first to move, reaching for Blaine’s cock and squeezing the base, slick with lube, watching Blaine moan and let his head fall back against the mattress with a flump. He scoots up, pulling Blaine’s fingers away, one hand keeping the hem of the underwear back as he eases down, slides onto Blaine’s prick.
It still sends shocks through his spine, tingles on his skin as he lets himself sink down, the hardness filling him, pushing deep inside him.
“Shit,” Blaine breathes as he watches, but Kurt doesn’t let the moment last.
He moves quickly, grinding down onto Blaine’s cock, wanting the hardness, the burn of going a bit too fast, the bruising from Blaine’s fingers pulling him down faster, one hand squeezing his ass, slipping on the silk.
The rhythm he sets matches Blaine’s, hurried, a little too rushed, but they’ve got plenty of time for everything else. He swallows thickly, panting into the quiet apartment, fucking himself rougher than they normally do, but Blaine doesn’t ask if he’s okay and doesn’t stop him.
“Kurt, Kurt,” Blaine mumbles, pulling him into a messy kiss that’s too much teeth and tongues, bit out curses and reddened lips.
Blaine’s hand goes for Kurt’s cock, wrapping around it outside of the fabric. He can feel all the ridges even though the panties, and he hears Kurt’s sharp breath.
Kurt’s heart is pounding and he grinds back down against Blaine’s cock, rocking into him, sharing the heavy air between, watching the flicker of yellow lamplight over Blaine’s shoulders and the red flush on the tops of his shoulders.
Blaine’s hand rubs Kurt through the silk, pushing harder, faster, as he feels Kurt tensing up on his cock, moving less carefully now, losing the rhythm. He can barely hold back his groan and his curses as Kurt twists down and he feels a sharp tug on his gut, a snap of pressure, and his fingers close around the edge of the panties, tugging hard as he comes.
The sound of ripping fabric accompanies his moan of release, hips thrusting up into Kurt, forcing him to take more, and Kurt does it willingly.
Kurt moves faster, more hurried, less graceful now, just needing to get off, needing the release Blaine has. Blaine’s hand is still on his cock through the fabric but it pushes underneath it now, past the rip, wrapping around and stroking hard.
It’s only seconds before Kurt groans, biting Blaine’s shoulder as he comes, panting for breath when Blaine finally pulls his hand away and wipes it off on the fabric.
Sighing, Kurt slides down, resting on top of Blaine and humming softly when Blaine’s fingers card through his hair.
“I told you you looked good in anything,” he says, and Kurt smiles, closing his eyes and feeling Blaine’s free hand fingering the ripped fabric. “I guess Rachel doesn’t want these back.”
“I don’t think she ever did,” Kurt agrees, grinning when Blaine kisses his cheek and slides back down.
Kurt glances over at Blaine, their fingers barely touching as they lay there, afternoon sun streaming in through the window. They’re still breathing hard, and Kurt doesn’t know what to say.
Blaine moves first, meeting his eyes and moving his hand awkwardly to stroke Kurt’s face. “I love you, you know?”
Kurt nods. “Yeah, I know,” he says, hesitating a second but curling into Blaine when Blaine rolls over and reaches for him. Blaine tucks his chin over Kurt’s shoulder, sighing.
“I’ll always be here, Kurt, always.”
A smile makes its way to Kurt’s face and he nods, curling in closer. He’s not worried. He’s never worried with Blaine.
He just finds Blaine’s mouth for a soft kiss, pushing back his hair and smiling when it breaks. Blaine kisses him on the cheek as they settle in and Kurt can’t help smiling as he wraps himself in Blaine’s arms and watches the blue sky outside.
FIN.