4 Times Kurt Gets Cockblocked by Blaine’s Finals, and One Time He Doesn’t
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,935
Spoilers: Vaguely for canon up through 3.03 "I Am Unicorn," but no specific plot spoilers
Summary: Future!fic. Based on a prompt by the lovely verdandil, whom I miss: "Kurt and Blaine get cockblocked by finals. Cue frustration (in any sense) and tension and post-finals celebrations." Absolute fluff.
Disclaimer: I have no legal rights to Glee or any of its characters, and I don't make money off of this stuff.
A/N: I wrote this as a freewrite last winter but cleaned it up today to give myself something to do other than running around with uncontrollable excitement (which is what my cat is doing, by the way, because apparently he really loves Glee.) Thanks to judearaya and lavender_love00 for supporting this endeavor, even when I ignore half of their comments.
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1.
Finishing college a year ahead of Blaine isn’t as bad as finishing high school a year ahead of Blaine was. They both live in the same place, and they sleep every night next to each other, instead of 532 miles apart. Even if Kurt sometimes has to nudge Blaine awake after he’s fallen asleep on the couch with a book in hand, or at the kitchen table with his face slumped dangerously close to his laptop’s keyboard, Blaine always makes it to the bedroom eventually. It’s comforting to have him there.
Kurt refers to Blaine as his “own personal radiator,” and complains when Blaine stays up later than him, because Kurt’s feet get so cold when he’s alone under the blankets, which keeps him from falling asleep. Kurt’s taken to throwing a heat pack in the microwave before he brushes his teeth on the nights that Blaine’s stays up late studying, and tossing it under the blankets when he tucks his lonely self into bed.
On those nights, when Blaine finally comes in, Kurt wakes briefly and leans his face into Blaine’s neck and inhales. The familiar scent either lulls Kurt back to sleep or causes him to nibble on Blaine's neck until they are both, delightedly, anything but asleep.
Tonight, when Blaine slips under the covers wearing nothing but his skivvies - even though it’s freaking December, for crying out loud - Kurt jolts wide awake. He can smell Blaine, and maybe it should be gross because Blaine has been so busy cramming for finals that he hasn’t showered since yesterday - or was it two nights ago? - but it’s winter, so it’s not, really. The smell of shampoo and skin lotion have faded, and what’s left in their place is skin, and cinnamon toothpaste mingled with warmth and breath, and there’s a faint whiff of Old Spice. The last of which Kurt never thought of as particularly sexy until he met Blaine, and then - well, yeah. It's sex, now.
Blaine is lying on his stomach, and he reflexively touches Kurt’s hand, like he does every night. Kurt turns toward him, fitting his body along Blaine’s side. Blaine’s muscles shift and settle against him, sending prickles of awareness along Kurt’s skin.
Kurt wants all of Blaine, now.
He leans his face into Blaine’s neck and kisses there, but the moan it arouses is blurry and faded and fuck. Is Blaine seriously asleep already?
Kurt brushes his hand down Blaine’s back and hears a satisfied breath, heavy and open-mouthed. Blaine’s tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth in the weird way it does when he sleeps.
It is going to be a long, long night.
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2.
It took a ridiculously long time to fall back asleep, but somehow Kurt manages to wake up before Blaine the next morning. With a huge morning glory.
Ugh. He should have just taken care of this last night. But that would have been so - It wasn’t that that Kurt wanted. It was Blaine. Sometimes - no, really, a lot of the time, and a lot more often than Kurt would have ever imagined possible six years into a relationship - he just looks at Blaine or smells Blaine or hears him breathe or hum, or thinks of him, and it’s hopeless. Kurt wants. And it’s not just horniness - though sometimes it’s mostly horniness, and that’s okay, too.
But usually - and today - it’s more than that. It’s a lot more than that. He’s been watching Blaine work himself ragged over the past few weeks. He forgets to eat until Kurt gets home and reminds him, he’s been skipping his workouts, and his shoulders are so fucking tight that Kurt could work them like a misbehaving lump of dough for an hour and they still wouldn’t slacken. Kurt knows it’s only temporary. He knows this is kind of what Blaine wants, because right now he’s only taking classes in his major and he’s loving every minute of it - or most of the minutes of it - and talks incessantly about his readings and his thoughts when he’s not actually studying.
But the finals part. This is ridiculous. Yeah, there are deadlines in the real world. But five different major deadlines in the span of 10 days? No. Not really.
Kurt wants to give Blaine a moment to breathe, to come back to earth and out of his head a little, to create an afterglow in which Blaine can remember what he’s doing all this work for - because he loves it. Not for the grades or to impress his professors or because he thinks he should be perfect.
Kurt rolls out of bed with his ginormous hard-on and brushes his teeth, even though what he really wants to do is go back into the bedroom and wake Blaine up with the most enthusiastic blowjob of his life.
Instead, he makes them both breakfast and walks back to the bedroom to check on Blaine, who has thrown the blankets off in his sleep and is sprawled across the bed, gloriously unkempt and making those clicking noises with his tongue. The shaft of light from the hallway falls across his calves, and Kurt is jealous of it for touching the soft hairs there.
Kurt goes back to the kitchen and sticks Blaine’s breakfast in the refrigerator before eating his own. He leaves a note for Sleeping Beauty before he leaves for work, using the nicknames they gave each other after they read Lolita together (the only good things either of them got out of finishing that book):
Light -
Breakfast is in the fridge. Don’t forget to eat it, or I will take it as a personal affront to my culinary skills.
See you tonight. I miss you already.
- Fire
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3.
"Yeah, yeah, okay. Let me know." Blaine hangs up the phone and the next sound that comes out of his mouth is the closest thing Kurt's ever heard to a barbaric yawp.
Kurt walks over from the kitchen and sits next to Blaine, stroking his back. Blaine's fingertips are pressed into his temples, pulling outward on his face. "Hey, hey," murmurs Kurt, pulling one hand away from Blaine's face and wrapping it in his fingers. "What's wrong?"
"This fucking group project. There's nothing more I can do until I get Toshiko's part back, and she's having computer trouble, and it's due in two frikkin' hours."
"If it's computer trouble, I'm sure you guys can get an extension." Kurt lifts his free hand to Blaine's hair and strokes it, slipping through the curls to rub the scalp beneath.
Blaine emits a moan that is a confused jumble of satisfaction and frustration. "I don't want a fucking extension. I want to be done with this."
Which is a sign of how exhausted Blaine is because, frankly, he almost never wants to be done with his work. There is always something else he can expand upon, explore, perfect.
"Okay," says Kurt. "But you can't right now. Maybe there's something else you can do? We could go for a walk or something while you wait for her to call back. You should probably get moving. You've been hunched over that computer for days." Kurt digs his fingertips into the ropes and knots of Blaine's shoulders and Blaine lets out a shameless groan.
"Yeah, okay. I'll put on my shoes." Blaine pushes himself off of the couch and turns around, hands outstretched, to pull Kurt up. They look at each other then - it's the first time they've actually looked at each other since this conversation began - and a flicker of recognition lights across Blaine's eyes, and Kurt knows his boyfriend is coming back to earth, the burden of worry slowly lifting away.
Blaine smiles slightly as Kurt stands up, and pulls Kurt in toward him. "Hello, there," Blaine whispers. "I didn't see you."
"Hey, stranger," Kurt breathes.
Their faces are close - exquisitely close - and Kurt can smell the intimate, familiar mix of coffee and almonds on Blaine's breath, and feels a little faint from the way the light of the overhead lamp dances across Blaine's copious lashes. Blaine presses his body into Kurt's, and kisses him, and it's not chaste or brief. Kurt feels himself being pulled into Blaine, the sweet tug of lips and tongue, and the embers that have been moldering inside Kurt all week spark into flame. He can feel it happening in Blaine's body, too, the heat rising through Blaine's chest and pouring into Blaine's hands. Blaine tugs on the back of Kurt's sweater, greedy and wanting. Kurt reciprocates, darting his fingers beneath Blaine's T-shirt to tease the skin of his back.
And then they’re on the couch again, starving for each other and resentful of their clothes, but marveling at the way their bodies fit, their mouths fit, their hands fit. At the way they fit, together.
"I need you so much."
Everything is a blur of kissing and want and unapologetic need, the satisfying sounds of irregular breath and hungry moans and the couch shifting beneath them, of fabric rustling and the gentle suck of lips on skin. The other sounds - of upstairs neighbors walking back and forth, of motors thrumming and horns honking outside, of radiators gurgling and knocking - disappear into the background. All Kurt can hear is Blaine's desire.
Until
KACHUNK!
BOWNG, BOWNG BOWNG BOWNG, BOWNG, BOWNG BOWNG BOWNG.
I hate I hate I hate when it's tragic
I love I love I love when it's my way
"Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck." Blaine startles, his muscles going tense beneath Kurt. "Toshiko."
Kurt rolls off of him and grabs the blaring phone from the coffee table, turning it on and handing it to Blaine.
Kurt stands up and walks - a little uncomfortably - to the back of the couch to rub his boyfriend's shoulders and listen to Blaine's half of the conversation. Kurt feels a little evil for hoping that it's bad news for Toshiko's computer, and good news for what they were just doing. But it's the opposite.
"Oh, that's great," Blaine says in the forcefully pleasant way that only the people closest to him recognize as not quite genuine. "Um, yeah, I'll check right now." Blaine leans forward to grab his laptop off the coffee table, and it's just far enough that Kurt's hands can't follow all the way. The loss of contact feels like theft. Theft by Toshiko. Kurt is ridiculously angry with her.
Blaine turns toward Kurt and the frustration on his face is evident and heartbreaking. Blaine mouths "sorry," but there's no need to. It's not Blaine's fault. It's these goddamn finals.
Kurt kisses Blaine on the forehead and lets him get back to work.
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4.
Kurt is singing quietly to himself as he lets himself into the apartment. Blaine's last final exam was scheduled for this morning, and he had told Kurt that his after-exam plan was to spend the rest of the day sleeping, then wake up and have dinner together. If Blaine actually does manage to wake up - well, Kurt's figuring they'll both be up for a little more celebrating than that.
But when Kurt opens the door, Blaine is on the couch, computer in his lap, squinting intently at the screen.
"Congratulations!" Kurt says, kissing Blaine on the cheek. "I really think you should take a minimum 24-hour sabbatical from that thing, though," he adds, gesturing toward the laptop.
"Oh," Blaine says, looking at Kurt with bleary eyes. "I forgot to text you."
"What?"
"I showed up for the exam today and the door was locked and I looked through the window and there wasn't anyone in there, so for a second I thought I was having one of those dreams where you show up to an exam three hours late and it's over. Except I'm always naked in those dreams, so when I realized I had my clothes on, I knew it was real."
"You missed your exam?"
"Well, no. After freaking out for a minute I called Mark to see if the exam location had changed and I'd somehow missed the message. And he told me it's tomorrow. I typed the wrong date into my calendar."
"Seriously?" Kurt realizes how snippy he sounds after the word is out of his mouth. He looks at Blaine apologetically.
"Yup. I feel pretty stupid."
"No, sweetie. I’m sure it’s frustrating, but it’s also kind of adorable. You're already turning into an absent-minded professor."
Blaine blushes and kisses Kurt's cheek. "But the good news is I have an extra 24 hours to study, now."
Instead of telling Blaine that he has a warped understanding of the phrase "good news," Kurt says, "You should spend at least part of that time sleeping."
"I will."
"And eating. I'll start making dinner."
Blaine beams at Kurt. The energy in that smile is incongruous with the bleariness of his eyes and the sallowness of his face, but that kind of makes it even more endearing.
Kurt goes to hang up his coat, regretting that the chances of making his boyfriend see the face of the celestial teapot tonight during a passionate eclipse are pretty much zero, but glad that he can at least show Blaine his love in the small, mundane, domestic ways.
When they get married, though, Kurt's really going to have to make sure that Blaine types the right wedding date into his phone.
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5.
Kurt convinces Blaine to eat dinner at the table, not in front of his laptop. They don’t talk much; Blaine’s mind still seems to be lost in a fog of words and theories and ideas. But as he eats, his eyes become a little clearer, and by the little moans of appreciation Blaine makes with each forkful, Kurt can tell he is actually tasting his food.
Kurt insists on doing the dishes afterward, even though Blaine offers. "Hey, you only have one evening left to study. Might as well make the most of it," Kurt says, squeezing Blaine's hand. He doesn't mention that he really just needs to keep his hands busy right now so that he can keep them off of Blaine. After the dishes, Kurt sews for a while. The steady hum of the sewing machine drowns out the steady hum of Kurt's desire for the time being.
Kurt goes into the bedroom to do a little yoga before he sleeps - usually, he prefers to do it in the living room in front of Blaine, because then it almost turns into something a little more aerobic than yoga was intended to be (something about the head-to-knee forward bend gets Blaine every time) - but he will be good tonight. It's only one more night, and then his boyfriend will be back, and they will have five days of nonstop lovemaking (well, except for when Kurt has to work, when he supposes Blaine can sleep) before they have to take the train to Ohio for Christmas.
He's in the middle of camel pose when he hears Blaine approach the doorway. Kurt can't see him, but he knows Blaine's eyes are on him. It fills him with more delight than he should feel during meditation.
Eh, fuck 'should.'
Kurt lowers his hips to rest them above his heels, then turns to face Blaine. Kurt blushes when he catches Blaine's eyes, wide and full of … something like reverence, and maybe (Kurt tries not to get too hopeful) a little lust.
"Hey," Kurt whispers.
"Hey yourself," says Blaine, sinking to his knees in front of Kurt and taking both of his hands. "Am I interrupting?"
"No," Kurt says gently.
"I think I'm done studying." The corners of Blaine’s mouth curl up slightly. He looks like a little boy who’s about to get up to mischief. Kurt likes that look.
"Never thought I'd hear those words leave your lips."
Blaine smiles.
Kurt squeezes Blaine’s hands. "I'm pretty much done with my yoga, if you want to go to sleep.”
"Well - "
"Well?"
"I'd like to go to bed. But not to sleep. Yet." Blaine winks, his eyelashes fluttering profligately up and down.
Kurt feels a grin spread so wide across his face that it makes the muscles behind his ears twinge a little. "Go to bed but not to sleep? I hope you're not planning on a night of insomnia before your final final exam."
"No."
And while it would be fun to continue flirting - languorous conversation has been missing from their daily lives, too, these past weeks - Kurt has had his fill for now. He leans forward and touches his mouth to Blaine's jaw, parts his lips so he can rake his teeth gently across the stubble. The shiver he elicits is almost compensation enough for the long wait.
Blaine lifts one hand to stroke the back of Kurt's neck. "God, I've missed you."
Kurt kisses each eyebrow, the arch of each cheekbone, then pulls away just enough so he can see both of Blaine's eyes, rich and darkly luminescent like buckwheat honey. "I've missed you, too."
They kiss then. They must have kissed thousands of times by now. But it’s still so new, and exhilarating, and makes their bodies surge with the hum and whirr of life.
Kurt stands and draws Blaine up and onto the bed, leans over him and covers him - and is subsumed.
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A/N: Beside the acknowledged, oblique reference to Nabakov, I stole barbaric yawp from Walt Whitman. Comments are like chocolate to me. (I love chocolate.) Please don't mention anything about Season 4, whether it be spoilers, spec, guest stars, shooting locations, songs, characters that will or will not return, or the color of the sky in Lima. I am saving my S4 virginity for the actual show. Thanks!