Backstage
Backstage
Kurt/Blaine - NC-17
After the last performance of West Side Story, Kurt meets Blaine backstage while wearing his Officer Krupke costume.
It had been two of the busiest week’s Blaine had experienced at McKinley. West Side Story had concluded its run that evening and while the rest of the cast had headed to Breadsticks to celebrate, Blaine wanted nothing more than to just sit somewhere quiet for a while.
He loved the New Directions but between studying, rehearsals and the actual performances, Blaine had found little time to himself and even less time alone with Kurt.
The school was empty and Coach Beiste had given him the keys to the auditorium so he could lock up behind himself. He wasn’t sure if she trusted him to be responsible or if she had started the closing night celebrations a little early. Either way, she had given him a long hug and wished him a good evening before throwing her arms around Mr Schue, who almost buckled in surprise.
Blaine sat in front of the mirror in the make-shift dressing room Rachel had set up for him backstage, which in reality was a curtain partition blocking off a small table, chair and mirror. A large vase containing red Asiatic lilies, orange large-headed roses, red oak leaf and pittosporum sat on the table, with a note that simply said,
This is just the beginning.
I am so proud of you.
- K
He had removed his shirt and was dabbing the fake blood off his chest. While it was fun to die on stage, it had become somewhat of a bother to clean himself up afterwards every performance.
Sighing in relief as he finished cleaning the remainders of the blood off himself, Blaine tossed the wet-wipe on the table and leant back in the chair. Closing his eyes he wondered if anyone would mind if he slept there for the night.
A pair of warm hands embraced his shoulders, making him gasp, his eyes shot open in panic. Blinking a few times as his eyes focused, Blaine looked in the mirror at the image of Kurt standing behind him. Blaine smiled lazily at Kurt’s reflection.
“Big night,” Kurt mused as he began to rub circles into Blaine’s shoulders.
Blaine hummed to himself, enjoying the pressure. “Sure was,” he said. Frowning, Blaine crinkled his nose as he realised something. “You’re still in your Officer Krupke costume.” The show had ended over an hour ago and if the other performances had been anything to go by, Kurt should have gotten changed fifty-nine minutes ago.
“Well spotted,” Kurt said, working his hands lower down Blaine’s back. Blaine wondered how Kurt knew where the knots were and what pressure he needed.
“I thought you hated wearing that,” Blaine said, waving his hand towards their reflections. “The pants are straight leg and you said the cap gives you terrible hat hair.” It was true. After the first dress rehearsal you would have thought the hat had removed chucks of Kurt’s hair the way he reacted. He had taken Blaine’s hair gel and hairbrush and didn’t reappear for twenty minutes.
Kurt, whose eyes had been watching his own fingers at work, glanced up to look in the mirror. He caught Blaine’s eye and the corners of his mouth threatened to smile.
“I do, I mean, I did,” Kurt said vaguely. His eyes dropped back to his hands, watching himself run parallel zig-zag motions up Blaine’s spine with his thumbs, causing the other boy to gasp and sit up straight.
“What’s changed?” Blaine asked, taking a deep breath. He raised one of his shoulders up as Kurt pressed deeply into his skin, working out a particularly tight knot. Blaine groaned deeply, moving his shoulder against Kurt’s fingers for maximum pleasure.
Kurt didn’t answer. Instead he took hold of one of the wheeled chair’s arms and turned Blaine around to face him. A red blush was creeping up his neck and his pupils were blown. With one step forwards, Kurt was able to mount Blaine’s lap, moving his face towards his so they were centimetres apart.
“I’ve come to realise something,” Kurt whispered, staring into Blaine’s hazel eyes unblinkingly.
“What’s that?” Blaine asked slowly. He could feel his heart beating and he swallowed hard as he felt Kurt’s hands snake up his thigh.
“I’m wearing a policeman’s uniform,” Kurt said matter-of-factly. He gave Blaine’s thigh a quick squeeze, enjoying the way Blaine’s hips bucked up slightly at the touch.
“I can see that,” Blaine replied, biting down on his bottom lip. He glanced down at the uniform approvingly. He would be lying if he had said he hadn’t had inappropriate thoughts about Kurt in that uniform over the past few weeks. Hell, even Santana had stopped for a quick look and Blaine was pretty sure that Kurt wasn’t her type.
Blaine was breathing deeply now and Kurt could feel his hot breath on his face. Closing the space between them, Kurt pressed his lips against Blaine’s, bringing his hand up to cup his face as he deepened the kiss. Blaine licked Kurt’s bottom lip before sliding it into his mouth, earning a small whimper from Kurt.
Blaine brought his hands up to Kurt’s hips, grasping at the material as Kurt pressed his hips towards Blaine’s, desperate for friction.
Quite aware that he wasn’t wearing a shirt and Kurt was, Blaine started to undo the buttons of Kurt’s shirt. He broke the kiss, moving his lips to Kurt’s neck where he began to suck against his pulse. Kurt let his eyes close, thrusting his hips towards Blaine as the other boy finished unbuttoning his shirt. Tossing it on the floor, Blaine’s hands made their way up Kurt’s torso and then ran down his arms. As he felt the muscles on Kurt’s arms flex, Blaine felt his pants tighten.
“Oh God, Kurt,” Blaine murmured against his neck. He started to place wet kisses along the exposed skin, running his tongue along the newly formed bruise he had created.
Kurt pursed his lips, his eyes rolling. “I need you right now,” he slurred. Climbing off, Kurt knelt on the floor in front of him. He reached forwards, undoing Blaine’s pants as Blaine lifted himself up to give Kurt better access. Blaine eagerly kicked off his shoes and socks, adding to the pile. Kurt grinned up at him and removed his policeman’s flat cap, popping it on Blaine’s head.
Kurt stared for what was probably a minute, but felt like hours. Blaine Anderson wearing nothing but a policeman’s cap and black boxers. Would it be wrong to get iPhone out to take a picture for those long nights without him?
Blaine pressed his lips together in a kiss pose, scrunching his nose at Kurt, which only made him laugh.
“If you’re trying to look unattractive it isn’t working,” Kurt admitted. Blaine started to laugh too, but stopped the moment he felt Kurt’s hands back on him.
Kurt pulled Blaine’s boxers down, tossing them to one side. He took hold of Blaine in his hand, stroking his slowly. Blaine grabbed the chair’s arms, holding on tightly, and let out a small sigh, smiled lovingly at Kurt. Kurt ran his thumb over the slit of Blaine’s cock, rubbing the pre come that appeared down his length, tracing one of his veins.
After a few minutes, Kurt licked his lips and took Blaine’s cock in his mouth. The sudden warmth caused Blaine to buck forwards, one of his hands finding its way into Kurt’s hair, twining around the flattened locks. His mouth opened and closed as though he was trying and failing to speak. Kurt ran his tongue down Blaine’s cock in long and deliberate movements, enjoying the approving noises that Blaine was making.
He pushed further in, taking deep breaths through his nose as he swallowed around the head of Blaine’s cock, which only sent electric thrills through Blaine’s body, heating his skin, but still somehow causing goosebumps along his arms.
Blaine looked down at Kurt with heavily lidded eyes, his breathing coming in short as he whimpered at the sight before him. He closed his eyes and started to slowly thrust into Kurt’s mouth. Blaine could feel an intense pool of heat in the pit of his stomach and it only took for Kurt to glance up, locking their eyes before he was groaning deeply and pulling on Kurt’s hair as his orgasm took over. He came hard into Kurt’s mouth, who was eagerly swallowing, licking Blaine’s cock clean as he came down from his orgasm.
“Fuck, Kurt,” was all Blaine managed to say. He laughed, running his fingers through his own hair, feeling the sweat that covered his hairline.
Kurt had never looked so beautiful. He was staring up at Blaine, his eyes wide and his lips swollen and red. He was looking at Blaine with what could only be described as lust. Blaine’s cock twitched in agreement with his brain as Blaine leapt from the chair, landing on top of Kurt.
Blaine straddled Kurt’s hips and held Kurt’s arms above his head by his wrists, effectively pinning him down. Blaine kissed Kurt hungrily, their mouths full of tongues and their teeth clashing. Blaine could taste himself and that only made him suck harder on Kurt’s tongue. Blaine shifted back a little, his right hand twisting the fabric of Kurt’s pants by his naval.
Blaine quickly undid the top button and zip of the pants and was able to slip his hand down to take hold Kurt’s cock. Kurt’s eyebrows knitted together, his expression concentrated as a low moan escaped his lips. Blaine worked roughly, flicking his wrist a few times to earn another broken sound from Kurt.
Kurt started to pant, gasping for air as though every stroke Blaine was administering was removing oxygen from around them. Blaine’s thumb skimmed over the head of Kurt’s cock and just as he felt Kurt’s hips rise up off the floor, Blaine pressed his lips against Kurt’s mouth.
Kurt’s orgasm rode out longer than Blaine’s, which was down to the fact that Kurt had learnt early on that going down on Blaine was better than any physical foreplay. The feeling of knowing that you are causing the person above you to be making those noises, to be gripping something so tightly that their knuckles were turning white, and that the look their face as they come is thanks to your mouthand your hands was nearly enough to make Kurt come alone.
Blaine fell forwards on top of Kurt, their chests sticking together with sweat. Blaine brushed his lips against Kurt’s before resting his head in the nook of Kurt’s neck.
“When do you have to return the key to Coach Beiste?” Kurt asked, breaking the silence.
“I’m not sure, depends when she remembers that she gave it to me I guess,” Blaine replied. “Why?”
“I can’t return my costume to the Drama department now,” he motioned his crotch, which was most likely stained, though he wouldn’t be sure until he got a better look, “So I might as well get some more use out of it,” Kurt said causally. He grinned to himself.
“Do you think it would fit me?” Blaine asked, trailing his index finger in circles on Kurt’s shoulder.
“There’s only one way to find out.”