Therapy According to Eric Amparo
So.
This is what I do when Ross writes me porn all night on Skype. I couldn't just write a quick bit of porn for her, it had to be this epic thing with like, plot and character development.
Since it would be a little awkward to put it all into Skype now that it is over 5,500 words (YES I AM A CRAZY PERSON, I KNOW THIS), so I am posting this for her here. And I don't think anyone else reads this god damn thing, so that should be okay.
WITHOUT FURTHER ADO. HERE IS MY FIC.
Therapy According to Eric Amparo
A.K.A. The Many Ways Tee Loves Ross
By Tee
Blaine Anderson decided that he hated everything about his life. Because this was not where he wanted to be right now. And not how he wanted to be feeling. So, he should have really seen it coming. But he tended to dive right out of reality and into his own silly fantasies more often than not. Into the world were things went smoothly and happily and ended a lot like Singing in the Rain, with the smiling and the kissing and the names in lights (of course, he would be playing the part of Gene Kelly, and Kurt would be his Debbie Reynolds- he could even imagine Kurt looking sinfully good in those 20’s slip dresses). But the facts were these: Kurt was leaving. Not just leaving Dalton, which was bad enough. But actually leaving him. As in “it’s not you, it’s me, can we still be friends”.
Okay, so it hadn’t really gone like that. There were mitigating circumstances that made it pretty impossible for Kurt to be in any kind of relationship, what with his father back in the hospital and requiring most if not all of Kurt’s attention. Blaine got it. He really did. But that didn’t stop it from hurting so goddamn much. Especially when Kurt had said it was probably best that he didn’t call for a while. When Blaine asked when that might change, Kurt had just shook his head sadly and got into his stepmother’s car. The part of Blaine that always admired Kurt’s strength was proud. Every other part of him wanted to cling to Kurt’s legs and beg him not to go. As endings went, Blaine realized it was more of a ‘not now’ thing than a ‘not ever’ thing. But that didn’t make the heartbreak any less.
The student body of Dalton Academy thought they had seen Blaine in a funk before. But this pretty much rivaled any of the emo bullshit Blaine Anderson had ever thrown any of them. He had spent an entire weekend under the covers of his bed, sobbing and hating himself for doing it. Eric was surprisingly decent and had brought him meals and then left Blaine to his misery. When Monday came around, Blaine managed to pull himself out of bed and into uniform, even if he couldn’t find the energy to gel his hair. That had caused more of a stir than it probably should have- Thad had looked about to start something, but Tristan had intervened at the last second. But for the most part, everyone cut him a wide berth, except for Tristan who hovered around him like an overwrought mother. At least until Blaine snapped. The breakup of the friendship for the second time in so few months was something that quickly became legend. Not many would have believed that Blaine would have a screaming match with someone, much less in the middle of Warbler’s rehearsal. But it had indeed happened and would probably be whispered about behind hands until Blaine was middle aged.
Wes called countless meetings of the council to discuss the “Blaine situation”, even if Thad only rolled his eyes at them. But as the week became two, and then three, it seemed there was little to be done. Wes had even made an appeal to Eric to intervene as Blaine’s roommate and, in his words, “constant companion in emotude” . Eric had characteristically been unimpressed, simply remarking that he liked that he could sleep in his own room again and that Blaine in an existential crisis was much easier to get along with.
The truth, however, was that Eric was slowly going a little insane. Blaine Anderson had become a gross parody of himself, this withdrawn, morose, floppy haired mess who didn’t much say anything anymore, preferring to pound out notes on the piano or strum his feelings away into his guitar. Eric hadn’t realized how much he had liked Blaine’s often inane banter until it had disappeared. He even kind of missed how incredibly handsy Blaine was, and the flirty way Blaine was with everyone on the planet. Even inanimate objects. And, though he would never admit this to anyone on pain of intense torture and death, Eric missed Blaine’s smile. It was disgusting and it had to stop.
On the particular evening that Eric had enough, Blaine had been doodling lyrics fiercely into a worn notebook, pressing so hard that it was imprinting several pages down. To say that Blaine had a lot of feelings would be an understatement. His usual funk had been compounded by an infuriating phone call with his father who had expressed a hope that now that that “Hummel business” was over he would pursue a much more “comparable” match. Which could only mean someone with more money, or someone female. Or both. It made Blaine want to slam things against the wall. What it had actually made him do was throw his guitar across the room. It was mocking him from the opposite corner, neck broken and strings still intact. It was like a bizarre metaphor for his heart- broken but still somehow together. Crippled and worthless but still undeniably there.
When Blaine heard the key rattling in the lock, he pulled his pillow over his head, moaning lightly. Not that he thought Eric would harass him, but it was just easier not to look at people these days. He could feel the judging in their eyes. He didn’t need to make it worse for himself by looking at it.
“Hey.”
The voice was clearly coming from the foot of his bed, but Blaine ignored it, pulling the pillow tighter around his head.
“Blaine.”
Blaine raised an eyebrow at his mattress. He hoped that even though Eric couldn’t see it, he could feel it. Some roommate telepathy, born of too much time spent together. The telepathy seemed to be working fine, because the next instant Blaine felt something solid hit the back of his head. Even through the pillow it hurt like hell. He popped up, scowling, watching the really pretty glass paperweight his sister had bought him on a lark fall to the floor and shatter in a spectacular fashion. “Fucking Christ, what is your problem?” Blaine shouted, throwing his pillow in Eric’s direction before trying to jump over the pieces of glass to get to the little broom and dustpan he kept in the bathroom. Being in a heartbroken funk didn’t mean he was okay with glass on the floor.
When Blaine reentered the room with the broom, Eric was leaning against Blaine’s desk, arms crossed and looking nonchalant. Blaine scowled at him and started sweeping, cursing a little under his breath. “You missed a spot,” was Eric’s only contribution. It really made Blaine want to throw the dustpan full of glass shards at his smug ass face, but Blaine refrained and just glared. When Blaine returned from dumping the glass into the trash, Eric was still there, as statuesque as ever. He looked like a goddamn Greek god, with those sharp features and standing there without moving a muscle. It was as infuriating as it was attractive. The bastard.
“What? What the fuck do you want?” Blaine said, gesticulating a little wildly and suddenly so angry he couldn’t really think properly. The way Eric was staring at him was making him feel unhinged.
Eric’s slight smile faded and the stare seemed to get even more serious. “I want you to get over yourself and rejoin the human race,” he said, something almost gentle in his tone, despite the words.
Blaine felt a hysterical laugh building in his chest. “That’s rich. Coming from you. Since you never really joined the human race in the first place.” That had scored some kind of hit, if the way Eric’s jaw tightened more was any indication. Blaine felt a flare of pride and an ill natured victorious smile formed on his face.
“As least my whole existence doesn’t hinge on some sparkly little twink. I know he was your special snowflake, but this whole mourning period has steered right past pathetic and masochistic into batfuck insane.” Eric said the whole thing in an even, light tone, looking at his nails as if he was talking about the weather. Blaine’s hands started clenching up into fists, so tight he was sure he was drawing blood with his fingernails. “I am really astounded that your narcissism has reached such levels that you are actually upset he chose his father over you.”
“You have no idea what you are talking about,” Blaine ground out, his voice as sharp and broken as the shards of the paperweight he had just thrown away.
“Really?” Eric replied with a sly upward curve of his lips. And that was all he said. No other rebuttal. Just looking at Blaine with that holier than thou look. Blaine was much more comfortable with words. This odd staring match was so much worse. Because he had no defense for that look. It made Blaine want to grab Eric by the lapels and beg him to do something to make him feel something other than the crushing weight of his own pain, even if it was narcissistic and pathetic. It had become it’s own entity that was living in Blaine’s skull, sucking all of the good things out of the air.
Blaine had the words on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t want to give Eric the satisfaction. Instead, he turned and made his way toward the door. He didn’t care at the moment that he was only wearing a faded tee shirt and pajama bottoms. He was going to go…plunge his head in the lake and wish for death. Or something. Anything to get him out of this room and Eric being the smug douche bag he was. But Eric was apparently not done with Blaine, because he stepped right in front of the door.
“Get out of my way, Eric,” Blaine said, in a low and dangerous voice.
Eric pretended not to hear him. “Honestly, I prefer this place without him. I do like having my room back.” The superior smile on Eric’s face only grew. Every muscle in Blaine’s body tensed, and he could hear his blood rushing in his head. For the first time since Kurt had left, he didn’t feel an ounce of sorrow. Just this all consuming kind of rage.
“Get out of my way,” he said again, emphasizing each word. Blaine’s fists practically vibrated against his thighs, itching to try and knock that grin off of Eric’s face.
Again, Eric didn’t respond to him. That smile was taking over his face, making him look like a demon. They just stared at each other for a long moment, Blaine with an undisguised fury and Eric with a calm kind of calculation like he knew exactly what he was doing. “And there is, of course,” Eric said after what felt like forever, his voice light and almost cheery, “the fact that now I do get you all to myself.”
That proved to be the trigger Eric was looking for, or that Blaine was looking for, because the tension boiled over and Blaine hit Eric as hard as he could. He had been aiming for the bastard’s nose, but had solidly hit the guy’s jaw instead. Eric jerked back, making an angry pained sound, his head hitting the door. Blaine honestly didn’t fair much better, his hand ached and he was starting to think Eric’s bones were made of steel. If Blaine knew anything about fighting, he would have taken advantage of Eric’s momentary dazed state, but he was too busy cursing and cradling his hand.
Which left the floor open for Eric to regain coherence and push Blaine bodily across the room. Blaine flew backwards, his hip hitting the edge of his nightstand, which hurt a whole lot more than his hand did, and from there careening to the floor, landing hard on one shoulder and managing to bash his temple into the carpet with astounding force. Despite how much that fucking hurt, Blaine was too mad to sit and catalogue his pains and was already starting to get to his feet. But Eric was over him, pushing him right back down. Blaine managed to land a pretty solid hit to Eric’s stomach, but the man also had abs of steel so it didn’t do too much. Except make Eric look a little winded. And make Blaine think he had actually broken his hand.
“You are such a fucking asshole,” Blaine ground out, clawing at Eric’s incredibly tight grip on his shoulders and trying to get his legs working enough to kick at him. But Eric was a lot more graceful and saved himself from any trouble by straddling Blaine and sitting heavily on his stomach. Blaine made a sound that was part pain and part rage. He started trying to buck Eric off, but Eric had the upper hand. It was stupidly easy for him to hold Blaine in place, which just made Blaine madder.
“And you need to learn that you can’t control everything,” Eric said, displaying for the first time some kind of emotion. There was something angry and compassionate in his tone, which should be a contradiction, but somehow wasn’t. That was enough to make some of the fight go out of Blaine and he stopped tearing at Eric’s hands. “You can’t make Kurt come back because you emo hard enough about it and you can’t control the fact that life is going to go on and you are going to have to go on with it.”
“Shut up,” Blaine replied, his rage already subsiding into something like defeat. Truth could do that. He had been so focused on dwelling on his pain so he wouldn’t have to admit to himself that this was really happening. And that maybe it didn’t hurt as much as he wished it still did. And if that was true, than maybe the whole thing had been something he’d made up, or made bigger than it actually was.
“No. Grow the fuck up, Blaine. Your life isn’t over. And God knows Kurt’s going to waltz back into your life at some point because you two are sickeningly perfect for each other. So stop trying to control everything and just fucking be. Okay?” There was something almost affectionate in that last part and maybe that was why Blaine’s brain broke officially. If he wasn’t having intense psychological issue and hadn’t so very recently had his brain scrambled, it wouldn’t have happened. But he was having all of these feelings and Eric was practically laying on top of him which would excite anyone, and Blaine was more than a little turned on by the reddish area on Eric’s jaw that was surly going to turn into a bruise.
Blaine grabbed Eric’s head in his hands and pulled him down, crashing their lips together in a way that was desperate and angry and lustful all at the same time. Eric didn’t join in right away, which just made Blaine work harder, running his tongue along Eric’s lips and pulling on his hair. Then Eric seemed to get with the program, his hold on Blaine’s shoulders turning into something less restraining and more holding and sucking Blaine’s tongue into his mouth. Blaine moaned, becoming aware that he was almost painfully hard. Now in this moment, he was finally able to admit to himself how much he had wanted this. Not that he wanted to invite Eric into his picket-fence fantasies. Blaine just really wanted to fuck him.
He could now admit how maddening it was to live with someone with the cheekbones of a god. And how he had sometimes had to go take a cold shower after watching Eric dance around in his shorts, mesmerized by how his muscles would move under his skin. And after that whole whiskey confession, Blaine knew Eric wouldn’t really object too much. Well, that and the pretty definite hard on pressing into his stomach was another good indication. Blaine bit down on Eric’s lower lip, drawing a groan out of him. Egged on by that victory, Blaine slid his hands down Eric’s sides, slipping them up under Eric’s shirt to drag along his skin. It felt like it was on fire, and Blaine choked back a pathetic, desperate sound. Eric’s muscles were contracting under his fingers and it was better than Blaine had imagined in his more explicit late night fantasies.
Eric finally released his lips, both of them panting hard. There was a question in Eric’s eyes as they looked at each other. Blaine knew there should be words, and that this was probably the worst idea he had ever had. But he just cocked a challenging eyebrow at Eric and started pulling his shirt up. The look he got back managed to be resigned and turned on at the same time, which was so fucking Eric that Blaine felt his lips twitching into the first real grin he’d had in months. Eric rolled his eyes at it, but assisted Blaine in getting his shirt off anyway.
Blaine immediately lost himself in exploring Eric’s chest with his hands, wishing the way they were positioned leant itself to him following those paths with his lips. Or his tongue. But Blaine would take what he could get and soon his hands were drifting to the button of Eric’s jeans. He heard Eric’s breath hitch and his smile grew, something of his old smugness back in his expression. Unfortunately there was only so much he could do with Eric still sitting on his stomach, so after he had popped the button and slid down as much of the zipper as he could, the only thing left for him to do was caress Eric’s cock though the fabric. Eric’s eyes nearly rolled back up into his head, his teeth biting deeply into his lips to hold back a noise of some sort. It was stupefying hot, and Blaine adjusted his hand and squeezed, his free hand slipping up the hard planes of Eric’s chest to thumb at a nipple. Eric ground against his hand, a strangled moan making it way out of his throat despite how he was trying to keep it back.
Now that Eric seemed distracted enough, Blaine jerked his hips and managed to roll them so Blaine was the one straddling Eric. Eric looked about to protest this new development, but Blaine fit their hips together in a slow dragging motion that quieted whatever objection Eric might have. Grin widening on his face, Blaine whipped his t-shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him. In the next instant he was on Eric, dragging his lips over the sharp jut of Eric’s collarbones, tongue dancing across Eric’s clavicle all the while his hands were pulling at Eric’s jeans, trying to get the god awful things out of the way. Eric was breathing hard, and Blaine could feel his heartbeat thrumming in his chest. He left a soft open mouthed kiss over Eric’s heart before continuing his explorations lower, tasting the light sweat that clung to Eric’s chest and thrusting his hips shallowly. Suddenly Eric’s hands were tangled into Blaine’s hair, tugging enough to be painful but it was all just a bigger turn on. Blaine flicked his eyes up to Eric’s face, feeling ridiculously smug about the whole thing. Eric tried to glare back at him, but that just happened to be the moment that Blaine had worked Eric’s jeans and boxers down enough to wrap a hand around Eric’s cock. The glare was lost in the way Eric threw his head back, moaning in an incredibly debauched way. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Blaine muttered, really having a hard time understand now why he hadn’t jumped Eric a long time ago.
Shuddering lightly, Blaine took a few shaky breaths against Eric’s stomach, trying to get a better hold on himself before going on. He was excited enough for this to end too fast, and that was really unacceptable. “Had enough already?” he heard Eric say, breathless but still with that thread of intense mocking. Blaine bit down on Eric’s hip in retaliation which made Eric yelp and pull on Blaine’s hair enough for Blaine to make his own girlish sound of pain. But Blaine recovered himself pretty quickly and circled his tongue in Eric’s bellybutton to end any further argument. Scooting back further, Blaine got Eric’s jeans and boxers completely out of the way and got a sure grip on Eric’s cock.
Blaine didn’t really talk about it, because you didn’t really talk about that kind of stuff to your friends (or anyone), but he loved giving head. He actually liked giving more than receiving, which would probably strike some as odd. But he loved wrapping his lips around someone’s dick. Loved the taste of it on his tongue, the musk of it overpowering his nose, the way his jaw always ached a little afterwards. And of course, there was always the power of it. Making someone incoherent and flailing, coaxing them to the edge of orgasm and backing off, making them desperate and ready to be fucked over the edge. Just looking at Eric’s cock in his hand and knowing that he was going to suck it into his mouth made Blaine sigh in a breathy anticipation.
“Blaine, you are starting to be a serious disappointment,” Eric said, sounding really annoyed for someone who was about to get a pretty spectacular blow job. Blaine cocked an eyebrow at him and ran a teasing finger along the underside of Eric’s dick. Eric groaned and muttered darkly under his breath. It really made Blaine want to tease Eric more, but he was starting to feel a little desperate himself. So he followed the path of his finger with his tongue, drawing out another heated string of curses and another almost too hard tug on his curls. After a quick lick to his lips, Blaine closed them around the head of Eric’s cock, tonguing the slit and sucking lightly. Eric hips jerked up and his cock worked further into Blaine’s mouth. Blaine moaned around it, one hand closing tightly around Eric’s hip and the other still gripping the base of Eric’s cock. God, he loved this. Blaine bobbed up and down, loving how Eric’s cock slid past his lips. He worked more and more of Eric into his mouth until he felt his lips on his own fingers. Blaine hummed and looked up at Eric. Eric was looking at him with an expression that seemed awed and almost a little pained. All of those snide comments had disappeared and he was thrusting a little erratically into Blaine’s mouth, fingers scratching against Blaine’s scalp in a way that should have probably been painful but only made Blaine more aware of his own neglected erection. Groaning heavily, Blaine let go of Eric’s hip to palm himself to try and relieve some of that tension.
Eric was fucking Blaine’s mouth in earnest now, and Blaine felt a little like he was just along for the ride. Not that he minded. Especially when Eric started moaning in a way that would make a porn star blush, his head thrown back against the carpeted floor of their dorm room, eyes rolled back in his head. Blaine felt like he was in danger of being as far gone as Eric was, groaning needily and sucking Eric’s cock with the single minded determination he did most things. And then Blaine could feel it, that building pressure that indicated that Eric would come soon. It made Blaine shiver, ready to swallow everything down and then give Eric the victorious grin he would have so earned. And then he would roll Eric over and have his wicked way with Eric’s incredibly toned ass.
But things started to go shockingly off that plan when Eric pulled Blaine off of his cock. There was a wet, popping noise as they disconnected and Blaine nearly whimpered. “What the fuck, Amparo?” Blaine said, the tone much closer to a whine than he had wanted.
“The only place I’m coming is inside your ass,” Eric panted, lifting himself up on his elbows and managing to smirk at Blaine. Which was really fucking infuriating. And, Blaine had to admit when his cock twitched violently in his pants, really fucking hot.
“In your dreams,” Blaine managed to choke out with a rough laugh. He renewed his grip on Eric’s cock, tugging on it in a way that was more an attack than anything else. In a instant, Eric was on his feet, dragging Blaine up with him. Before Blaine had a chance to really react, his back was connecting solidly with the wall and Eric was right there with him. Eric didn’t kiss Blaine so much as bite at his lips, but Blaine gave himself over to it anyway, dragging his nails down Eric’s back. And thank all that was holy, Eric’s hands were pushing Blaine’s pajama bottoms and boxers down. In short order they were tangled around his ankles and Eric was roughly jerking Blaine’s cock with one hand and keeping Blaine pinned against the wall with the other. It was a little too rough for Blaine’s taste, but he was too turned on for that to make much of a difference.
“Say it.”
The words were breathy and basically purred into Blaine’s ear. The accompanying tongue didn’t do anything to help Blaine’s coherence at all and he moaned. “Say what?” he ground back, glad that he was still able to sound put out even when it felt like his skin was on fire. Eric tugged on his earlobe with his teeth, which really wasn’t playing fair at all. Blaine shuddered.
“That you want me to fuck you,” Eric replied. Blaine couldn’t see the smirk, but he could damn well hear it.
“No fucking way.”
Eric squeezed Blaine’s cock tightly and Blaine slumped back against the wall, his head hitting it hard enough for him to see stars. “Come on, Blaine,” Eric said, his voice dropping impossibly lower in a way that made Blaine cock jerk in appreciation. “I know you want it. You just can’t admit it because of your pathological need to be in control of everything. Even in sex.”
Blaine couldn’t believe that Eric was using words like ‘pathological’ when they were both naked and he had a cock in his hands. But more than that, Blaine couldn’t believe that Eric was actually kind of right. Because his dick certainly didn’t have any objections with the way it was twitching spastically in Eric’s hand. And there would be something strangely comforting about having the control ripped away from him for a few minutes. It occurred to Blaine that that might have been Eric’s plan all along and he really wanted to be upset about it. But it was hard to find the will to protest when he was about to have sex. That was probably going to be awesome.
“Fuck me,” Blaine said eventually, the whole thing coming out more of a whisper than anything else. He couldn’t even bring himself to look Eric in the eye, feeling like he’d lost some battle.
Eric pulled back and grinned at him victoriously. “What was that?”
“God damn it, Eric, don’t make me say it again,” Blaine said, scowling. At least until he felt a slick finger against his hole, pushing inside in a way that was almost gentle. “Jesus fuck,” Blaine cried. He didn’t know where the hell Eric had pulled the lube from or when, but it was there and soon there was a second slick finger pushing past that tight ring of muscle. Blaine was wondering where all the oxygen in the room had gone, because now he was panting desperately for breath and clinging to Eric’s shoulders so tightly he was sure there would be bruises.
“Let the fuck go, Blaine,” Eric growled roughly in his ear. Blaine knew he wasn’t talking about the grip on his shoulders either. “Let someone take care of you for once fucking time in you life.” The fingers were pumping slowly in and out of him in a delicious, burning drag. Blaine felt himself wanting to give up, to let go and give himself over to the sensations. But it went against everything he was. And then they caressed that special place inside and Blaine nearly sobbed for the pleasure of it.
“Fuck me, for the love of God, please fuck me,” Blaine heard himself saying, broken and so needy that he hardly recognized it as his voice. Eric moaned long and low, his hand tightening on Blaine’s cock.
“Fuck yes.” Blaine was glad to hear that Eric seemed just as broken as he was. But he didn’t have too long to ruminate on it because Eric was shoving him around again, this time pushing him back onto his bed. Blaine had only a second to lay back and suck in air before Eric was over him- teeth dragging down the column of Blaine’s throat. Blaine’s breath hitched almost painfully, his hips jerking up into Eric. He heard the rip of a condom packet and felt a chill chase up his spine, anticipation pooling hotly in his stomach. But all he felt were more fingers in his ass, which were nice, but not really what he had been hoping for.
“Get the fuck on with it,” Blaine groaned, dragging his nails over Eric’s ass to spur him into action.
“Slut,” Eric chuckled darkly in response, but the fingers were gone an instant later and Eric was lining himself up.
“Cock tease,” Blaine responded with as much dignity as he could. Which wasn’t too much, because then Eric was pushing inside him. Blaine hadn’t bottomed in ages and it felt impossible that it could ever be comfortable. He bit at his lips and moaned, trying to get himself to relax enough to enjoy himself. Of course the next instant Eric had thrust against his prostate and he forgot all about being uncomfortable. “Oh fuck,” he groaned, his eyes slipping closed and nearly thrashing against the mattress.
Blaine was saved from being embarrassed because Eric seemed just as lost, babbling a stream of nonsense against Blaine’s neck and thrusting into Blaine in slow sure strokes that had to be positively maddening. They were to Blaine at least. “I thought you wanted to fuck me,” Blaine panted, managing a cocky grin.
“I am,” Eric said darkly, slamming into Blaine a little harder. Blaine let out a short little moan, his fingers searching for purchase on Eric’s back.
“Not very well,” Blaine bated him in an odd sort of sing song. Eric only growled in response and lifted one of Blaine’s legs to rest on his shoulder, changing up the position to drive deeper into Blaine. Blaine gasped out a moan and grabbed at Eric’s head, slamming their lips together in a mess sort of kiss. It was more breathing into each other’s mouths than anything else, but it was wonderful anyway. Eric worked a free hand between them and started to pump Blaine’s cock in time to his thrusts which were coming harder and faster. “Yes, yes, yes,” Blaine groaned into Eric’s mouth, his fingers buried in Eric’s hair.
“Can’t you shut up for one second,” Eric panted, biting at Blaine’s lower lip.
“Impossible,” Blaine gasped back before sucking Eric’s tongue into his mouth. He could feel the urge to come building- that feeling like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to dive over the edge into oblivion. Despite the fact that he was pretty much having his brains fucked out at the moment, Blaine couldn’t help the urge to be the victor of ...well sex. Which meant getting Eric to come first. And fucking soon. Blaine sucked one of his own fingers into his mouth and wet it thoroughly before tracing it down Eric’s spine. Before giving Eric too much time to think about it, Blaine pushed his finger into Eric’s ass and clamped down tightly on Eric’s cock at the same instant. Eric made a strangled sort of sound, a moan that was suspiciously something like “Fuck, Blaine”. Blaine watched as Eric’s body convulsed with orgasm, his eyes wide and lust blown. It was unbelievably beautiful.
Eric managed a few more erratic thrusts and after one more good pull on Blaine’s cock, Blaine felt himself go over the edge, making a low, guttural noise into Eric’s chest and painting both of their stomachs with his come. Eric pulled out and Blaine let out another short moan. Eric collapsed onto Blaine, making them even more of a sticky mess, his head nestling into the crook of Blaine’s neck. “Jesus Christ,” Eric said breathlessly after what felt like a long time.
“Yeah,” Blaine replied, just as breathless. “That was some fucked up kind of therapy, man.”
“Worked didn’t it?” Eric replied in a sleepy but still unbelievably snaky way.
Blaine chuckled, tilting his head to kiss Eric’s cheek messily. “I guess it did, you douche bag.”
“Asswipe.”
“Dickwad.”
“Fairy.”
“Homo.”