Across the Line, Kurt/Blaine, R
Title: Across the Line
Author: skintightsocks
Rating: R
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 2,200+
Summary: "Right, so, I'm in bed, and I'm wearing, um. Not... a lot. I kind of thought it would be easier that way. You know, streamline the whole process." AKA: World's failiest phone sex fic!
Spoilers: Takes place after episode 4x01.
Warnings: None
Author Notes: You can't just have Kurt say this and not expect us to write fic about it. Title is from the song "Hanging on the Telephone" by Blondie.
"So," Kurt says breathlessly the minute Blaine picks up the phone. "Do you remember that thing we talked about on Skype last week?"
"Ummm, Rachel wanting a couch from Craigslist, the thrift store girl low-balling you on your Vivienne Westwood, or the naked guy in the alley?" Blaine asks, setting his bag down beside his bed. Kurt usually doesn't call this early, and Blaine's only home because Glee let out sooner than usual.
"No, no. I mean, it's great to know you're listening, but I mean the... other thing," Kurt says, his voice dropping into a whisper. Blaine thinks for a minute, trying to replay their last Skype session, and then-- oh.
"Oh," Blaine says, tugging at the collar of his polo shirt. "That thing."
"Yeah," Kurt says. "That thing. Rachel's out of the apartment right now for at least two hours and I'm assuming that since you answered your phone Glee's already over?"
"It is," Blaine says, climbing onto his bed. "I'm home."
"Good," Kurt says. "Good. So, let's do it. You start."
"Wait, why do I have to start?" Blaine asks. "I don't know what I'm doing."
"Well neither do I," Kurt says, and Blaine can hear the pout in his voice. He stretches out, rolling his eyes fondly up at the ceiling.
"Okay, how about we just tell each other what we'd do. If we were, you know, together," he suggests, settling his hand low on his stomach and wiggling down into the mattress a little, getting comfortable.
"I'd make you take me through every outfit you've worn since I left to see if I approve," Kurt says immediately.
"Right, yes, but I was thinking more... sexy stuff," Blaine says. "Like, I was thinking last night before bed how much I miss kissing you."
"Oh," Kurt says, sounding pleased. Blaine can picture the exact look on his face, a mixture of embarrassed and smug, and he closes his eyes, pressing the phone closer to his ear. "That's a good idea," Kurt says after a moment. "Me too. I'd like to kiss you too." Blaine was kind of hoping Kurt would take the theme and run with it, but it's okay. He can do this.
"I was also thinking about that night before you left," Blaine says, pitching his voice a little lower.
"That was a good night," Kurt says, his voice breathier. Blaine hears rustling, and he lets his imagination run wild for a second, picturing Kurt spread out on his-- well, actually Blaine has no idea what his bed looks like now.
"What are you doing right now?" Blaine asks. "Like, I mean, set the scene."
"Blaine Anderson, are you asking me what I'm wearing?" Kurt asks, mock-scandalized.
"Among other things."
"I'm in my bed," Kurt says, "which is more like a mattress on the floor, but I brought my bedding from home. I'm not sacrificing thread count just because I'm a starving artist."
"Of course not," Blaine says, grinning.
"Right, so, I'm in bed, and I'm wearing, um. Not... a lot. I kind of thought it would be easier that way. You know, streamline the whole process."
"So you're just naked," Blaine says, swallowing heavily. He feels strangely shocked, like things just went from zero to sixty. Very, very naked sixty.
"Yes," Kurt says. "Should I not be?"
"No, no, you should definitely be naked," Blaine says hoarsely. "Naked is a great idea." He's already picturing it, Kurt's long, pale limbs, his broad shoulders, the curve of his cock above his stomach. God, he misses Kurt naked.
"How about you?" Kurt asks. "Are you naked?"
"No," Blaine says, his fingers flexing on his stomach. "No, but I have no idea why I'm not, so I'm going to do that now."
"Excellent," Kurt breathes out over the line. Blaine tries to keep the phone pressed against his ear just in case, but after the third time he trips over his own feet trying to get his jeans off with one hand, he tosses it on the bed for a second and takes his clothes off faster than he has ever managed in his life.
"Okay, back," Blaine says into the phone, tossing himself back onto the bed. "Back and naked." Kurt laughs, the breathless giggle he only seems to use when they're naked with each other, giddy and warm and turned on, and Blaine slides his hand down his stomach, stroking lower and lower until his fingers are resting right above his cock, already half-hard.
"So, we're both naked," Kurt says. "And usually when we're both naked, I get a little distracted by your... you know."
"I don't," Blaine says, feeling his cock twitch under his hand. "Tell me."
"Your... twinkle tube," Kurt whispers into the phone.
"Kurt, we've talked about this," Blaine groans. "No weird penis names when we're discussing our own."
"You know I hate every single word there is for them, Blaine," Kurt huffs. "Can't we just compromise?"
"That depends on the compromise," Blaine says warily. He'd still jerk off if Kurt insisted on calling it something ridiculous, of course, but he'd rather not stoop that low.
"Throbbing sparkle monster?"
"What? No."
"Manly glitter pole?"
"Kurt," Blaine groans.
"Mr. Happy?" Kurt asks.
"No," Blaine says, and then, "Well-- maybe. At least nothing's sparkly."
"Okay, great!" Kurt says, sounding far too pleased. "So I'm usually distracted by looking at your Mr. Happy--"
"I changed my mind, please just say penis," Blaine says desperately.
"Fine," Kurt sighs. "Fine, so I like your penis. I like to look at it. It's a good penis."
"Thank you," Blaine says, feeling oddly proud. He finally reaches for his cock, stroking his hand up slowly, his eyes blinking shut as his breath rushes out.
"Are you touching yourself?" Kurt asks, his voice suddenly a lot lower and a lot more interested than it had been before. It's almost seductive, and Blaine feels his stomach draw up tight. He knows that voice, and that voice means good things.
"Yes," Blaine says, not bothering to hide the hitch in his breath when he twists his hand under the head the way Kurt always does. "I wish it was you, though."
"Me too," Kurt says breathily. "I want to run my well-moisturized hands all over your body. I'm using this new Aveda moisturizer, did I tell you? I'm trying to cut costs, so I figured La Mer wasn't really an option any more."
"That's nice," Blaine says, huffing out a frustrated breath as he squeezes around his cock. "Maybe we should talk more about the touching me and less about the moisturizer, though."
"Oh, right," Kurt says. "I just thought you should know, if I was there and I was touching you, my hands would be soft."
"They always are," Blaine says with a smile, his hand moving a little faster. "I love it when you touch me."
"Yes," Kurt says, his voice sounding strained. "I'm trying to be quiet," he confesses after a few seconds.
"Don't," Blaine says immediately. "Don't, I want to hear. I love the noises you make, Kurt."
"Really?" Kurt asks, his voice breaking a little on the end.
"God, yes," Blaine says, squeezing around his cock again. "Sometimes I just close my eyes and listen to you, you sound so hot." Kurt doesn't say anything, but he stops holding back as much, letting little breathy whines and soft moans escape as his hand moves over his cock. And god, Blaine can hear it, can hear the slick sound of skin over skin, Kurt stroking himself fast. Blaine starts to speed up his own hand, feeling his face flush as heat pools in his stomach.
"What are you thinking about?" Blaine asks.
"That time you broke my bottle of Tom Ford Azure Lime when we were having sex," Kurt answers immediately, his voice rough.
"Kurt, I have apologized for that so many times, and I replaced it," Blaine says, wincing when his voice comes out in a whine.
"No, no," Kurt says, laughing a little. "It's just-- I'm wearing it today, and after the bottle broke my room smelled like it for weeks, and now every time I smell it all I can think about is being inside of you and making you- making you come," he says, his voice catching on a moan.
"Oh god," Blaine gasps, his hips jerking forward into his hand. "I- I miss that too. Feeling you inside. Being underneath you. Kurt, god--"
"I miss the way you taste," Kurt moans, and from the way he's panting Blaine can just picture him, hips arched off the bed as he pushes his cock up into the tight grip of his fist. "I-- oh, I--"
"Kurt," Blaine groans, hand moving wildly over his cock, sweat sliding down his temples and making the press of the phone hot against his flushed ear. "Kurt, are you close?"
"Uh huh," Kurt whines, and Blaine squeezes his eyes shut, tightens his grip, feeling heat flare and clench in his stomach as he stops holding back.
"Come," Blaine says, breath hitching as he tries to hold back his desperate moans long enough to get the words out. "Come, Kurt, please, come for me."
Blaine hears Kurt swear, a low and gritty, "Oh shit," and then he's breathing out shaky and loud, gasping in a way Blaine knows well. Blaine wishes he could see it - the pink flush down Kurt's chest, the white streaks of come over his skin, his face scrunched up as he rides out his orgasm.
Blaine realizes he's close - really close - and he stops holding back his moans and lets go, lets the heat wash over him like a full-body rush as he groans into the phone pressed to his ear and comes all over his chest, muscles straining as he strokes himself through it and then finally falls back onto the bed. He feels boneless, loose, exhausted.
"Wow," Kurt says, breaking the silence after a minute or two of mutual panting. "We are much better at that than I was expecting." Blaine starts to laugh, but then Kurt sighs, the same pleased, sleepy sigh he always gives after he comes, and Blaine misses him so much it hurts, sudden and painful in his chest.
"We were awesome," Blaine says, unable to help how small and strained his voice sounds. "But I really miss the whole cuddling part of our usual post-coital routine right now."
"Oh, I'm so glad it's not just me," Kurt says, letting out a rush of breath. "I keep waiting for you to pet my hair."
"I keep waiting for you to try to pet my hair and complain about my gel," Blaine says, his voice watery. "Maybe this part gets easier. The whole missing each other part."
"Well look at how good we got at phone sex in such a short time," Kurt says. He's a little choked up, but Blaine can tell he's smiling, can hear it in his voice. "I didn't even slip up and call your penis Mr. Happy."
"I don't even think I would have noticed," Blaine laughs, slumping back against the pillows. "You probably could have even gotten away with throbbing sparkle monster. I mean, I'm glad you didn't, but still."
"I can't help it," Kurt says, laughing. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I love your penis. I embrace your penis. Often literally. I just feel so silly saying those words."
"It's okay," Blaine says, reaching for the tissues beside his bed and cleaning up lazily. "We'll practice. Before long you'll be a dirty-talking super star."
"Maybe then I'll be able to put my newfound skills to use as a phone sex operator," Kurt sighs. "It's got to be better than being a barista."
"I think you'd have to actually be able to say cock to make it as a phone sex operator, honey," Blaine says as he cuddles down into his pillow. It's not as nice as cuddling against Kurt's soft, sweaty skin, but it'll have to do.
"I could do it for money, it would be like acting," Kurt says. "'Oh yeah, baby,'" he says, pitching his voice low and breathy. "'I want your big cock. I want it so bad.'" He stumbles a little on the word 'cock' but it's still remarkably hot, and Blaine feels his own cock starting to swell again.
"How much longer until Rachel gets home?" he asks, his hand already sliding down his stomach.
"Blaine Anderson, you're insatiable," Kurt says, sounding entirely too pleased with himself.
"I'm just being a supportive boyfriend," Blaine says as he starts to move his hand anyway. "You know what they say, practice makes perfect."
Author: skintightsocks
Rating: R
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 2,200+
Summary: "Right, so, I'm in bed, and I'm wearing, um. Not... a lot. I kind of thought it would be easier that way. You know, streamline the whole process." AKA: World's failiest phone sex fic!
Spoilers: Takes place after episode 4x01.
Warnings: None
Author Notes: You can't just have Kurt say this and not expect us to write fic about it. Title is from the song "Hanging on the Telephone" by Blondie.
"So," Kurt says breathlessly the minute Blaine picks up the phone. "Do you remember that thing we talked about on Skype last week?"
"Ummm, Rachel wanting a couch from Craigslist, the thrift store girl low-balling you on your Vivienne Westwood, or the naked guy in the alley?" Blaine asks, setting his bag down beside his bed. Kurt usually doesn't call this early, and Blaine's only home because Glee let out sooner than usual.
"No, no. I mean, it's great to know you're listening, but I mean the... other thing," Kurt says, his voice dropping into a whisper. Blaine thinks for a minute, trying to replay their last Skype session, and then-- oh.
"Oh," Blaine says, tugging at the collar of his polo shirt. "That thing."
"Yeah," Kurt says. "That thing. Rachel's out of the apartment right now for at least two hours and I'm assuming that since you answered your phone Glee's already over?"
"It is," Blaine says, climbing onto his bed. "I'm home."
"Good," Kurt says. "Good. So, let's do it. You start."
"Wait, why do I have to start?" Blaine asks. "I don't know what I'm doing."
"Well neither do I," Kurt says, and Blaine can hear the pout in his voice. He stretches out, rolling his eyes fondly up at the ceiling.
"Okay, how about we just tell each other what we'd do. If we were, you know, together," he suggests, settling his hand low on his stomach and wiggling down into the mattress a little, getting comfortable.
"I'd make you take me through every outfit you've worn since I left to see if I approve," Kurt says immediately.
"Right, yes, but I was thinking more... sexy stuff," Blaine says. "Like, I was thinking last night before bed how much I miss kissing you."
"Oh," Kurt says, sounding pleased. Blaine can picture the exact look on his face, a mixture of embarrassed and smug, and he closes his eyes, pressing the phone closer to his ear. "That's a good idea," Kurt says after a moment. "Me too. I'd like to kiss you too." Blaine was kind of hoping Kurt would take the theme and run with it, but it's okay. He can do this.
"I was also thinking about that night before you left," Blaine says, pitching his voice a little lower.
"That was a good night," Kurt says, his voice breathier. Blaine hears rustling, and he lets his imagination run wild for a second, picturing Kurt spread out on his-- well, actually Blaine has no idea what his bed looks like now.
"What are you doing right now?" Blaine asks. "Like, I mean, set the scene."
"Blaine Anderson, are you asking me what I'm wearing?" Kurt asks, mock-scandalized.
"Among other things."
"I'm in my bed," Kurt says, "which is more like a mattress on the floor, but I brought my bedding from home. I'm not sacrificing thread count just because I'm a starving artist."
"Of course not," Blaine says, grinning.
"Right, so, I'm in bed, and I'm wearing, um. Not... a lot. I kind of thought it would be easier that way. You know, streamline the whole process."
"So you're just naked," Blaine says, swallowing heavily. He feels strangely shocked, like things just went from zero to sixty. Very, very naked sixty.
"Yes," Kurt says. "Should I not be?"
"No, no, you should definitely be naked," Blaine says hoarsely. "Naked is a great idea." He's already picturing it, Kurt's long, pale limbs, his broad shoulders, the curve of his cock above his stomach. God, he misses Kurt naked.
"How about you?" Kurt asks. "Are you naked?"
"No," Blaine says, his fingers flexing on his stomach. "No, but I have no idea why I'm not, so I'm going to do that now."
"Excellent," Kurt breathes out over the line. Blaine tries to keep the phone pressed against his ear just in case, but after the third time he trips over his own feet trying to get his jeans off with one hand, he tosses it on the bed for a second and takes his clothes off faster than he has ever managed in his life.
"Okay, back," Blaine says into the phone, tossing himself back onto the bed. "Back and naked." Kurt laughs, the breathless giggle he only seems to use when they're naked with each other, giddy and warm and turned on, and Blaine slides his hand down his stomach, stroking lower and lower until his fingers are resting right above his cock, already half-hard.
"So, we're both naked," Kurt says. "And usually when we're both naked, I get a little distracted by your... you know."
"I don't," Blaine says, feeling his cock twitch under his hand. "Tell me."
"Your... twinkle tube," Kurt whispers into the phone.
"Kurt, we've talked about this," Blaine groans. "No weird penis names when we're discussing our own."
"You know I hate every single word there is for them, Blaine," Kurt huffs. "Can't we just compromise?"
"That depends on the compromise," Blaine says warily. He'd still jerk off if Kurt insisted on calling it something ridiculous, of course, but he'd rather not stoop that low.
"Throbbing sparkle monster?"
"What? No."
"Manly glitter pole?"
"Kurt," Blaine groans.
"Mr. Happy?" Kurt asks.
"No," Blaine says, and then, "Well-- maybe. At least nothing's sparkly."
"Okay, great!" Kurt says, sounding far too pleased. "So I'm usually distracted by looking at your Mr. Happy--"
"I changed my mind, please just say penis," Blaine says desperately.
"Fine," Kurt sighs. "Fine, so I like your penis. I like to look at it. It's a good penis."
"Thank you," Blaine says, feeling oddly proud. He finally reaches for his cock, stroking his hand up slowly, his eyes blinking shut as his breath rushes out.
"Are you touching yourself?" Kurt asks, his voice suddenly a lot lower and a lot more interested than it had been before. It's almost seductive, and Blaine feels his stomach draw up tight. He knows that voice, and that voice means good things.
"Yes," Blaine says, not bothering to hide the hitch in his breath when he twists his hand under the head the way Kurt always does. "I wish it was you, though."
"Me too," Kurt says breathily. "I want to run my well-moisturized hands all over your body. I'm using this new Aveda moisturizer, did I tell you? I'm trying to cut costs, so I figured La Mer wasn't really an option any more."
"That's nice," Blaine says, huffing out a frustrated breath as he squeezes around his cock. "Maybe we should talk more about the touching me and less about the moisturizer, though."
"Oh, right," Kurt says. "I just thought you should know, if I was there and I was touching you, my hands would be soft."
"They always are," Blaine says with a smile, his hand moving a little faster. "I love it when you touch me."
"Yes," Kurt says, his voice sounding strained. "I'm trying to be quiet," he confesses after a few seconds.
"Don't," Blaine says immediately. "Don't, I want to hear. I love the noises you make, Kurt."
"Really?" Kurt asks, his voice breaking a little on the end.
"God, yes," Blaine says, squeezing around his cock again. "Sometimes I just close my eyes and listen to you, you sound so hot." Kurt doesn't say anything, but he stops holding back as much, letting little breathy whines and soft moans escape as his hand moves over his cock. And god, Blaine can hear it, can hear the slick sound of skin over skin, Kurt stroking himself fast. Blaine starts to speed up his own hand, feeling his face flush as heat pools in his stomach.
"What are you thinking about?" Blaine asks.
"That time you broke my bottle of Tom Ford Azure Lime when we were having sex," Kurt answers immediately, his voice rough.
"Kurt, I have apologized for that so many times, and I replaced it," Blaine says, wincing when his voice comes out in a whine.
"No, no," Kurt says, laughing a little. "It's just-- I'm wearing it today, and after the bottle broke my room smelled like it for weeks, and now every time I smell it all I can think about is being inside of you and making you- making you come," he says, his voice catching on a moan.
"Oh god," Blaine gasps, his hips jerking forward into his hand. "I- I miss that too. Feeling you inside. Being underneath you. Kurt, god--"
"I miss the way you taste," Kurt moans, and from the way he's panting Blaine can just picture him, hips arched off the bed as he pushes his cock up into the tight grip of his fist. "I-- oh, I--"
"Kurt," Blaine groans, hand moving wildly over his cock, sweat sliding down his temples and making the press of the phone hot against his flushed ear. "Kurt, are you close?"
"Uh huh," Kurt whines, and Blaine squeezes his eyes shut, tightens his grip, feeling heat flare and clench in his stomach as he stops holding back.
"Come," Blaine says, breath hitching as he tries to hold back his desperate moans long enough to get the words out. "Come, Kurt, please, come for me."
Blaine hears Kurt swear, a low and gritty, "Oh shit," and then he's breathing out shaky and loud, gasping in a way Blaine knows well. Blaine wishes he could see it - the pink flush down Kurt's chest, the white streaks of come over his skin, his face scrunched up as he rides out his orgasm.
Blaine realizes he's close - really close - and he stops holding back his moans and lets go, lets the heat wash over him like a full-body rush as he groans into the phone pressed to his ear and comes all over his chest, muscles straining as he strokes himself through it and then finally falls back onto the bed. He feels boneless, loose, exhausted.
"Wow," Kurt says, breaking the silence after a minute or two of mutual panting. "We are much better at that than I was expecting." Blaine starts to laugh, but then Kurt sighs, the same pleased, sleepy sigh he always gives after he comes, and Blaine misses him so much it hurts, sudden and painful in his chest.
"We were awesome," Blaine says, unable to help how small and strained his voice sounds. "But I really miss the whole cuddling part of our usual post-coital routine right now."
"Oh, I'm so glad it's not just me," Kurt says, letting out a rush of breath. "I keep waiting for you to pet my hair."
"I keep waiting for you to try to pet my hair and complain about my gel," Blaine says, his voice watery. "Maybe this part gets easier. The whole missing each other part."
"Well look at how good we got at phone sex in such a short time," Kurt says. He's a little choked up, but Blaine can tell he's smiling, can hear it in his voice. "I didn't even slip up and call your penis Mr. Happy."
"I don't even think I would have noticed," Blaine laughs, slumping back against the pillows. "You probably could have even gotten away with throbbing sparkle monster. I mean, I'm glad you didn't, but still."
"I can't help it," Kurt says, laughing. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I love your penis. I embrace your penis. Often literally. I just feel so silly saying those words."
"It's okay," Blaine says, reaching for the tissues beside his bed and cleaning up lazily. "We'll practice. Before long you'll be a dirty-talking super star."
"Maybe then I'll be able to put my newfound skills to use as a phone sex operator," Kurt sighs. "It's got to be better than being a barista."
"I think you'd have to actually be able to say cock to make it as a phone sex operator, honey," Blaine says as he cuddles down into his pillow. It's not as nice as cuddling against Kurt's soft, sweaty skin, but it'll have to do.
"I could do it for money, it would be like acting," Kurt says. "'Oh yeah, baby,'" he says, pitching his voice low and breathy. "'I want your big cock. I want it so bad.'" He stumbles a little on the word 'cock' but it's still remarkably hot, and Blaine feels his own cock starting to swell again.
"How much longer until Rachel gets home?" he asks, his hand already sliding down his stomach.
"Blaine Anderson, you're insatiable," Kurt says, sounding entirely too pleased with himself.
"I'm just being a supportive boyfriend," Blaine says as he starts to move his hand anyway. "You know what they say, practice makes perfect."