Hesitation Blues (5/5)
Title: Hesitation Blues (5/5)
Rating: NC-17 for smut (finally! yay!)
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Warnings: Blowjobs and talky, talky boys.
Word Count: 14k-ish total
Summary: Kurt does his best to help Blaine move blowjobs out of the "things I regret" column and into the "fun" column.
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
Kurt felt like the Pied Piper.
In the walk from his room to Blaine’s, he couldn’t have attracted more followers if he’d formed a conga line with the Rockettes. He wore skinny jeans, a Disneyland T-shirt, and Mickey Mouse ears; a cloud of helium-filled mouse-ear balloons drifted behind him, and the mass of chattering, cat-calling Dalton boys in his wake made him feel too clever by half.
He stood in front of Blaine’s door absolutely confident that if Blaine backed out of their blowjob date - as he expected him to - at least Kurt would score points for originality. He’d promised Blaine this night would be fun, a quality Blaine’s first experience had decidedly lacked, and nothing was more fun than Disneyland.
If nothing else, they could suck on the balloons and see how high a countertenor on helium could sing.
Kurt knocked on Blaine’s door undeterred by the press of boys around him. The giggles and snorts fell to whisper level as everyone waited for the door to open.
The stunned expression on Blaine’s face was priceless.
The crowd behind Kurt roared. When Kurt was confident he could be heard without shouting, he said, "May I come in?" and Blaine shook his head in disbelief, motioning him inside. It took some wrangling to get the balloons inside, and a couple of boys had to chase down the strays, but within five minutes, Kurt was inside and the din had begun to die down.
"This is quite a get-up," Blaine said, accepting the proffered balloons with a smile. "How the hell did you pull that off?"
"A friend of mine worked at Walt Disney World over the summer," Kurt said. "I told you I’d make it fun."
Blaine twisted the strings of the balloons around his fingers. "About that."
Kurt raised an eyebrow.
"I know we had plans, but I’m still not feeling comfortable with the idea." If he had to choose between panic over Kurt throwing a fit or panic over embarrassing himself in bed, he’d take the hissy fit.
It didn’t come. Instead, Kurt said, "Okay. Would you rather play some cards?"
Blaine stared at him. "Cards?"
"Or chess?"
There was no indication of anger or disappointment in either Kurt’s face or voice. He must have been expecting this, Blaine thought, and relief mingled with guilt in equal portions. Relief alone filled his voice, though, when he said, "Kurt, thank you. That would be great."
Kurt took the balloons and tied them decoratively around the room while Blaine fetched the cards and dealt.
Blaine won a lot and wasn’t sure whether Kurt was letting him.
After about an hour, Blaine gave up waiting for the other shoe to drop. He tossed the cards down between them, ran a hand through his hair, and said, "I give up."
"But you’re winning."
"I feel like a heel. This is really sweet, and I find myself regretting every hand. When I think about what we could have been doing instead, it seems like kind of a waste. I’m just putting off the inevitable."
"Then I don’t regret a single minute," Kurt said. "But if you want to make it up to me, I can think of a few possibilities."
Blaine began to the shuffle the cards expertly. "I wish I wasn’t so confused."
"What’s so difficult to understand?"
"I keep thinking, ‘What am I supposed to do?’"
"What are you supposed to do?" Kurt repeated. "You’re not supposed to do anything. You’re supposed to lie back, relax, and enjoy it." He reached over and grasped Blaine’s hand. "You know. Like this. When we’re holding hands, do you feel like you have to do something?"
"Hold hands back."
"And when we’re kissing?"
"Kiss back."
Kurt was beginning to get the picture.
"What about when I’m kissing down your neck? Like this?" He leaned over and nuzzled Blaine. He felt Blaine’s skin prickle beneath his lips.
"Um..."
"Or when I do this?" He flicked his tongue against the rim of Blaine’s ear and felt Blaine shiver. "What do you do then?"
"Okay, Kurt. I get it. But this is different."
"How is it different?"
"I’m just not that good at... receiving."
Kurt was about to snap a retort at him, but by some miracle, he decided to think about it first. He thought about the very first moment they met. Blaine’s enthusiasm. Grabbing Kurt’s hand. Singing to him. And the progression of events. Giving him his phone number. Texting him. Showing up at McKinley to help with Karofsky. The tickets to shows. Getting Kurt the soloist audition with the Warblers. Rehearsing for the King’s Island Christmas Spectacular.
"Okay. So you’re really, really good at giving, and not so good at receiving. Maybe you just need practice. You can’t get everything right the first time. You learned to ride a bike, right?"
Blaine rolled his eyes. "Not with another kid propped on the handlebars! If this isn’t good for you, you could end up scarred for life, trying to get that experience out of your -"
"Stop it," Kurt said. "Stop it right now. I’m willing to risk it, and frankly, you’re freaking me out. I can’t imagine it not being good. You’re not some anonymous guy, Blaine. You’re my boyfriend. You’re going to say things like, ‘That feels good,’ ‘Slow down,’ and ‘Are you okay?’ You’re not going to take advantage of me. Jeez." He fell into sullen silence, and Blaine felt guilty.
"What if we do it at the same time?" Kurt asked.
Blaine frowned. "I’ve never done that."
"Thank god," Kurt said, vehemently.
"No, I mean - you haven't, either. We’ll be flying blind."
"Blaine, we’re already flying blind." Kurt leaned over and rubbed his arm. Blaine’s dejected expression was just too much. "Please. You trust me, right?"
Blaine gazed at him as though he was doing calculations in his head, and Kurt realized - that was it. Blaine didn’t trust him. Not in this. Blaine trusted other people just as far as he trusted himself, and Kurt moved ahead of Blaine in a lot of ways. He talked too loud, attracted too much attention, and dared too much. It was one thing to trust someone when you thought things would turn out well, but Blaine had no evidence at all that this was one of those times. This was one of those times when Blaine wanted more research, more caution, more testing. This was also one of those times when it wasn’t going to happen. Kurt knew how cautious Blaine could be, and he wasn’t willing to wait that long.
"I trust you," Blaine said, and he was so clearly miserable in the admission that they both couldn’t help but laugh.
"Let’s do this, then," Kurt said, and toed off his shoes. He wished he knew, with certainty, that this was going to turn out well. There were times, with challenging solos, that he knew he’d nail it on the first go. Other times, he knew he’d get it with work. Here, he was pretty sure he’d nail it on the first go, but the pressure was intimidating, because he didn’t know if he’d get a second chance. Should he wait? He was pressuring Blaine into this. He knew he was. He knew Blaine wasn’t ready. He also felt like the longer they waited, the less ready Blaine would be.
They stood up. Blaine reached for Kurt’s belt, and Kurt reached for Blaine’s collar. Blaine looked surprised and tipped his head inquisitively. "I want to feel you stretched out against me," Kurt said. The look of sheer gratitude in Blaine’s eyes sparked a pang of guilt in Kurt. Part of him wanted to back up and say, "Blaine, we’ll wait until you’re ready, really ready. No pressure." He wondered how much of this he was doing for Blaine’s benefit and how much was his own selfish impatience. He bit his lip.
"What is it?" Blaine was all concern, now. He’d forgotten about himself, just that fast. He reached up and rubbed the back of Kurt’s neck. Kurt marveled at how easily Blaine sensed the smallest tension and wanted to soothe it. Then he remembered all the times he’d gotten a lecture instead of sympathy, and he laughed.
"Oh, just questioning my own motives and pulling you down off the pedestal," he said.
"Questioning your motives?"
"Wondering if wanting to make you feel good is getting in the way of making you feel good."
"That actually makes sense." He tightened his hand at Kurt’s neck and pulled him close until their foreheads touched. "We don’t have to do this."
"The fact that it’s a have to for you and a get to for me should worry me far more than it does," Kurt said, fleetingly guilty again. He went back to working down Blaine’s buttons. Blaine’s fingers hovered around Kurt’s belt a moment before unbuckling it and tugging his Disneyland T-shirt out of his pants with the enthusiasm of a man going to a funeral.
Kurt pushed Blaine’s shirt off his shoulders, caught it with a finger, and dropped it on the bed. He’d seen Blaine in T-shirts, in various sports uniforms, in the bathrooms after a shower, but never quite like this. Not in Blaine’s room, in this lighting, standing up instead of reclining on the bed, completely naked from the waist up. He decided not to wait for Blaine, and he reached down and pulled his shirt over his head.
Blaine’s gaze, though still flecked with worry, roamed from Kurt's throat, down his chest, to his stomach.
"What?" Kurt asked.
Blaine’s throat and collarbone flushed. "You walk around school all day long, in that uniform that looks like everyone else, and underneath, you're the only you, ever, and I’m the only one who gets to see and touch." Before Kurt could register the movement, Blaine had his hands on the small of his back, pressing them together, chest to chest, kissing him roughly. Their teeth clicked, hard. The rest of their clothes fell off in a rush, and then they stood there, drinking in each other’s bodies. Kurt’s cock stood high, and Blaine let his hand drift down to coil around it, his other hand on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt drew a deep breath and pushed at Blaine to settle him on the bed, then followed him down, lying head-to-toe. He grabbed Blaine’s feet and kissed them, then bent his knees and scooted down toward Blaine’s crotch.
Blaine flexed his hands uncomfortably, but nothing was going to relieve the awkwardness of it all. He was used to opening his eyes and seeing Kurt’s face, not his dick. Kurt's very hard dick.
"This is weird."
"This is different," Kurt amended. "We’ll be fine. Are you comfortable?"
"Not really." Blaine looked up toward Kurt’s face, where he could only see the bottom of Kurt's chin and the outline of his nostrils. Kurt was staring at Blaine’s dick. Blaine’s very soft, limp dick. "Kurt." Kurt looked down at him, and Blaine sighed. "Um... I’m not really sure..." His voice sounded thick. He usually had opinions of his own. Desires of his own. He might sublimate them a lot, but at least he had them. Now? He wanted to crawl under the mattress and hide. "How do you want to start?"
"Like this." Kurt opened his mouth and leaned in and Blaine rolled away and sat up. His chest felt tight.
He felt Kurt’s hand on his shoulder. "Blaine?"
"I’m okay."
"Uh-huh. That's why you moved so fast."
Blaine sighed. "Could we do it together? I’m not sure I can work up the nerve, otherwise."
Kurt was silent for a moment. "We can do it however you want."
Not at all? Blaine thought. He turned around and lay down again, staring at Kurt’s dick like it was going to thump him on the head. He reached up gingerly. "Okay. On the count of three?"
"Sure," Kurt said.
"Okay. On three." He paused. "Ready?"
A beat. "Ready."
"Okay. One -" and the words dissolved into a groan as Kurt closed his mouth around him, hot and wet and soft and confusing, the ridge of his hard palatte against the head of his dick, his arm around his hip, securing him, his tongue massaging the upper side of the shaft. Kurt’s mouth was tight, sucking, sliding, pushing down, stroking, and then his hand was wrapped around him, Blaine groaned again, and he was suddenly, achingly hard.
Kurt pulled back, and Blaine sucked air back into his lungs. He hadn’t even realized his hands had moved, but they were gripping Kurt like he was going to disappear if he let go. "Oh, my god."
Kurt licked the head of Blaine’s penis once, and Blaine muttered something that didn’t even sound like words. He slid his hands down toward Kurt’s calves. He pressed the top of his head against Kurt’s groin and just breathed, trying to collect himself. He became aware of Kurt, naked and stretched out beside him, and the room felt a little cold. He was shivering.
"We agreed on three, Kurt. Three."
"How did it feel?"
"That’s not the point!"
"That’s exactly the point! Do you want me to keep a stupid agreement, or do you want to enjoy this?" He didn’t wait for an answer, but rocked his hips toward Blaine. "Please, Blaine."
Blaine extended his tongue and licked from just below the head of Kurt’s dick as far down as he could reach before Kurt rolled away.
"Oh, wow," breathed Kurt, and the note of overwhelm was music to Blaine’s ears. He actually smiled a little.
Kurt realized he'd have to find a buzzkill - really, really fast - or this was going to be over before it got started. Kissing could go on for a long time. This... not so much.
He'd just have to make sure Blaine had the same problem, and that Blaine didn't dwell on the solution.
Blaine reached out and grabbed Kurt’s ass, hauling him back. "Let’s try that again." He shoved his right hand under Kurt’s thigh and wrapped it around the back of his leg. He leaned in and breathed on Kurt’s dick; it was the same deep pink as his cheeks when he flushed, the tip smooth and firm. He slid his mouth hesitantly over the head and ran the tip of his tongue around it. Blaine could feel Kurt move closer, pressing his head against Blaine, and he felt Kurt close his mouth over the head of his own dick and the light, soft slickness of his tongue circled the head. Oh, god. Blaine’s breath was shaky; everything about him was shaky. He gripped Kurt’s ass and legs for all he was worth. Kurt began to thrust in tiny, rocking motions, and he took Blaine deeper into his mouth and moaned. The vibration made Blaine throw his head back. "Kurt, stop," he whispered urgently, his voice low and rough.
The warm, wet heat around his dick withdrew, and the air felt cool against his damp skin. Blaine was still shaking, and he couldn’t figure out whether he was clutching Kurt to keep him from pulling away, or to steady himself. This was not like making out. Here, there was no gradual modulation of arousal. This was an on/off switch, where on meant rocketing into orbit at 17,000 miles per hour. He pulled Kurt close and pressed his face to the juncture of his legs and torso, breathing in his scent. Kurt’s cock was hard beneath his cheek, the tip damp.
"How come your mouth feels so hot when it’s the same temperature as the rest of you?" He swallowed, feeling an overwhelming urge to wrap his mouth around Kurt’s dick. God. He felt like he was going to explode.
"So it feels good, then?" Kurt asked. His voice sounded like he couldn’t take in enough air to form words fully.
It was Blaine’s turn to nod soundlessly against Kurt’s legs.
"You’re not thinking of domestics?"
"What?" Blaine felt utterly confused, then smiled as he let out an amused breath. "No. In fact, I’m not sure you could call whatever I’m doing thinking."
"I’m going to kiss you now," Kurt whispered, and began to kiss his way up Blaine’s cock, from root to tip. His lips were tight and dry as he began, and Blaine could feel Kurt’s chin bumping the head of his penis. It was getting hard for Blaine to breathe. He took the tip of Kurt's dick into his mouth, but couldn't move; couldn't concentrate on anything but Kurt's mouth. Kurt gradually parted his lips so that he wasn’t kissing so much as sliding his open mouth up and down over the shaft. Blaine dug his fingers into Kurt’s ass and circled his tongue around the head of Kurt’s dick again, a little less tentative. Then Kurt took him into his hot, wet mouth and Blaine began to shiver again. Kurt built up a strong, steady beat, firm and gentle and inexorable. Blaine’s breath kept catching to the beat of Kurt’s strokes until it didn’t feel like he was breathing on his own anymore. He pulled his mouth away and stuttered, "Kurt, wait. Stop."
Kurt released Blaine and rested his head against Blaine’s legs again. Blaine’s wet cock next to his cheek. He reached up and squeezed Blaine’s hip. Blaine’s belly was a little more rounded than Kurt’s, his hips shorter. Kurt wanted to put his mouth everywhere, taste everything. Blaine’s cock tasted different than his throat, his chest, the smooth jut of his hipbone. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. It’s just... really intense."
Kurt ran his hand up and down Blaine’s calf, watching the hair flatten and spring back up as his palm passed over the skin. He looked up toward Blaine’s feet, watched how the veins traced over the instep, the variation of color and patterns, where dark hair grew sparse. He was made for this: to touch and taste and smell this boy, to make him cry out with the sheer joy of being alive and able to feel this way.
"Blaine," Kurt said. He rubbed his hands over and around Blaine’s thick, muscular thighs. "You’re fine. I’m fine. This is my very first blowjob and you keep interrupting. There’s so much of you to touch, that if I had a million years, I couldn’t do it justice. And we don’t have a million years. So I want to make every minute count. I want to make you feel good; I do. I want this to be everything you want. But I can’t keep stopping."
He leaned up on one elbow and opened his mouth against Blaine’s skin, digging his tongue into the crease of his thigh, licking and sucking his way down. "You have to tell me what you want. If you want to keep doing this, that’s fine. If you want to relax and lie back and just let me do this," he hesitated, and his voice sounded very young to his own ears as he continued, "that would be a dream come true." He placed a closed-mouth kiss to Blaine’s balls and heard Blaine inhale thinly. "If you want to stop where we are, that’s okay, too. We can get dressed and go do something else. This has already been more than I could have dreamed of.
"But whatever it is you want, Blaine, you need to tell me now. Right now. Because I can’t keep stopping like this. I need to know what you want."
Blaine’s breathing and pulse had returned to near-normal through Kurt’s speech, so his voice was fairly steady when he said, "I’d like to continue."
Kurt sighed in relief and let Blaine’s weird formality pass without comment. He closed his eyes and kissed Blaine’s cock lightly. "Okay. I’m not going to stop again until I make you come."
Blaine closed his eyes against the sting behind his eyelids.
Kurt’s mouth came down on him, humming, and the vibration set off a million detonations along every nerve. Blaine’s whole body stiffened and Kurt bore down on him with one hand hand on his hip and the other on his thigh, stilling him. Kurt hummed and licked and moaned, every once in awhile pulling back and whispering, "Blaine, you taste so good," sounding hungry - sounding absolutely starving - and Blaine felt his hips begin to move of their own accord. He fought to quiet them, but they continued to rock gently, and Blaine heard himself groaning and panting in the same rhythm.
His dick had never felt so sensitive, covered in the heat of Kurt’s mouth. He wished Kurt could pull his whole body into his mouth like that. He felt like he was unraveling, his body suffused into a molten river of need, all sense of self washed out. The sensations seemed to come from everywhere at once. The concept of a body didn’t mean what it used to; he was disoriented from lying head-to-toe. He was dimly aware of Kurt’s hands on him, holding and caressing. He felt pressure beneath his knee, lifting upward. He separated his thighs obediently, the open vulnerability of the position making him clutch Kurt tighter. One knee pointed toward the ceiling, the angle of his hips changed subtly, Kurt was taking him deeper, and it tore a groan from him that seemed to drag up from the soles of his feet.
Kurt brought his knee up in a mirror of Blaine’s posture to give Blaine more access. Blaine accepted the invitation on blind instinct, one hand steadying Kurt's dick. He couldn’t get enough of this. He couldn’t think. He moved up and down on Kurt in the same rhythm as his hips, and suddenly Kurt changed his rhythm at the same time so they were perfectly in sync. It only lasted seconds, but Blaine’s vision began to grey out from the feeling that he’d fallen into an ocean so vast he’d never be found. He could feel Kurt’s soft hair bumping against the inside his upraised thigh, and it nearly sent him over the edge.
Kurt’s hands were moving, then; hauling Blaine’s hips into a new position. Kurt rolled them, Blaine on his back, Kurt kneeling above him, his dick sliding away and up out of reach. Blaine’s mouth felt cold and empty and he wanted Kurt back more than anything. His own hips flat on the mattress, Kurt’s hot, hot mouth stroking him, stroking him, god, he would do anything, anything, to be able to take Kurt into his mouth. He needed Kurt in his mouth. He needed that more than anything in the world.
"Kurt, please," Blaine said, and couldn’t believe how ragged he sounded as he pushed up. Kurt let him roll them side by side again, and Blaine hauled Kurt close again and took him back in and felt a sweetness he knew he’d never be able to name. The heat of Kurt’s mouth seemed to burn along every square inch of his skin.
Kurt was trying to synchronize them again, and Blaine felt his body begin to convulse in its own in rhythms, rhythms he couldn’t control or follow. Part of him, in the back of his mind, tried to keep his teeth shielded and his jaw loose. An inner mantra of hold on and be careful formed in a tiny sharp point in his brain, but that felt like the only part of him that was human and cognizant anymore. The rest of him was enveloped in a deep, slow slide to climax. His body bucked helplessly; not just his hips, but the muscles in his legs, his arms, his abdomen clenched. The only things holding him together were his hands on Kurt, Kurt’s hands on him, and their lips. Oh, god, oh, god, their lips stretched over each other, the hollows of their mouths.
Blaine closed his eyes, feeling tears begin to squeeze out beneath his eyelids. He couldn’t hold back. The searing sensations rolled over him in exquisite overload, wringing his orgasm from him with a full-throated scream against and around Kurt’s dick. And then Kurt was coming, the sound trapped in his throat by Blaine’s dick and amplified through Blaine’s body. Blaine’s mouth flooded with Kurt’s semen, and he pulled back a little frantically to swallow without choking, his muscles not quite working right because he’d been pressing forward for so long, trying to climb into Kurt, not yet accustomed to moving the other direction - away - and shuddering uncontrollably. He held onto Kurt and pressed his face - wet with tears and sweat and come - against him and all he could do was whisper, "Oh, my god, Kurt. Oh, my god. Kurt, oh, my god."
Kurt’s breathing was heavy and uneven, and he was shivering, too, but he managed to force words past his trembling lips. "Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair."
Kurt probably meant it to be funny, but all Blaine could think was that Kurt had completely laid waste to his body, mind, and soul. He didn’t quite yet feel separate; Kurt’s legs seemed to belong to him, somehow. He wriggled down a few inches and buried his face in Kurt’s upside-down, nonexistent lap, kissing his thighs, hands massaging his legs, hard, part of him still wanting to pull Kurt inside. Breathing hard. Wondering if he’d ever remember his own name.
"So, that was good?" Kurt asked.
Blaine listened to his heart pound. He couldn’t begin to answer.
"Did you see stars? I think I saw stars."
"Kurt, I saw a fucking nova." He wasn’t even close to coming down from it all. "I didn’t know it was possible to feel like that. Did you?" He looked down toward his feet, toward Kurt’s head. "Was it - Kurt, I can’t even..." He sat up. His own body felt unfamiliar. He turned around and lay down facing Kurt. He’d almost forgotten Kurt had a face. Kurt’s eyes were amused, his hair was a mess, his mouth was red and swollen and smug, and Blaine needed to kiss him. He put his hand in Kurt’s hair and pulled him in, hard, then rested their foreheads together. "God. I don’t think we should do that very often."
"Because..."
"I forgot my name, Kurt. I literally couldn’t remember who I was."
Kurt reached up and pushed a stray curl back behind Blaine’s ear. "It’s okay. You’re back now. Safe with me."
"That was not safe."
"Come here." Blaine turned and spooned up against him as Kurt spoke. "Did it feel good?"
"Kurt, I’ve never felt anything like that."
"Did it feel good?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it felt great."
Kurt kissed the back of his neck, and Blaine shuddered. "We don’t have to do it often. We don’t have to do it at all, ever again."
"That’s not what I -"
"Listen," Kurt hushed him. "Do you remember why we did this to begin with?"
Blaine didn’t. All he knew was that Kurt was holding him and telling him something important. He shook his head. "I’m still not quite here, yet. I remember undressing you. I remember seeing you naked. Not like in the shower, or the bathroom, but different." He wasn’t making any sense.
Kurt waited. "Do you remember what you said you weren’t any good at?"
"Receiving," Blaine said instantly. "I wasn’t any good at receiving."
"I think you got better at it," Kurt said softly. "What do you think?"
"Yeah." Blaine tried to remember. This was one of those things that separated everything into before and after. And it made everything from before seem like it happened in another world.
"I just want you to remember that when something’s wrong, when you’re in trouble, you need to let me help. I could have been there for you weeks ago, if you’d let me."
"I know," Blaine said.
"You have to trust me."
"I know," Blaine said. "I’m sorry."
"Don’t be sorry," Kurt said. "Just stop trying to be so strong all the time. It’s tedious."
"Yeah," Blaine said. "I’ll work on that."
They lounged until it started getting cold and Kurt said he was ravenous, then began pulling on their clothes and tossing around ideas for food. Kurt argued for the commissary because it was close, cheap, and easy, but Blaine wanted to go somewhere quiet. He told Kurt that his clothes felt a little too heavy for his body, that things seemed too solid. He kept looking into Kurt’s eyes, and finally, Kurt asked him if he was okay.
"I didn’t know I could feel like that," Blaine said. "I didn’t expect... that much." Blaine looked at him. "It frightens me, a little. You seem to be handling it a lot better."
Kurt shrugged into the jacket Blaine was loaning him. "I’m not. I’ve just been worried about you. As soon as I get some food in me, I’ll have my own self-absorbed nervous breakdown and you can take care of all my raving insecurities. I promise." He drew Blaine toward the door. "Or maybe I’m just relieved that I can get rid of the cucumbers."
Rating: NC-17 for smut (finally! yay!)
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Warnings: Blowjobs and talky, talky boys.
Word Count: 14k-ish total
Summary: Kurt does his best to help Blaine move blowjobs out of the "things I regret" column and into the "fun" column.
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
Kurt felt like the Pied Piper.
In the walk from his room to Blaine’s, he couldn’t have attracted more followers if he’d formed a conga line with the Rockettes. He wore skinny jeans, a Disneyland T-shirt, and Mickey Mouse ears; a cloud of helium-filled mouse-ear balloons drifted behind him, and the mass of chattering, cat-calling Dalton boys in his wake made him feel too clever by half.
He stood in front of Blaine’s door absolutely confident that if Blaine backed out of their blowjob date - as he expected him to - at least Kurt would score points for originality. He’d promised Blaine this night would be fun, a quality Blaine’s first experience had decidedly lacked, and nothing was more fun than Disneyland.
If nothing else, they could suck on the balloons and see how high a countertenor on helium could sing.
Kurt knocked on Blaine’s door undeterred by the press of boys around him. The giggles and snorts fell to whisper level as everyone waited for the door to open.
The stunned expression on Blaine’s face was priceless.
The crowd behind Kurt roared. When Kurt was confident he could be heard without shouting, he said, "May I come in?" and Blaine shook his head in disbelief, motioning him inside. It took some wrangling to get the balloons inside, and a couple of boys had to chase down the strays, but within five minutes, Kurt was inside and the din had begun to die down.
"This is quite a get-up," Blaine said, accepting the proffered balloons with a smile. "How the hell did you pull that off?"
"A friend of mine worked at Walt Disney World over the summer," Kurt said. "I told you I’d make it fun."
Blaine twisted the strings of the balloons around his fingers. "About that."
Kurt raised an eyebrow.
"I know we had plans, but I’m still not feeling comfortable with the idea." If he had to choose between panic over Kurt throwing a fit or panic over embarrassing himself in bed, he’d take the hissy fit.
It didn’t come. Instead, Kurt said, "Okay. Would you rather play some cards?"
Blaine stared at him. "Cards?"
"Or chess?"
There was no indication of anger or disappointment in either Kurt’s face or voice. He must have been expecting this, Blaine thought, and relief mingled with guilt in equal portions. Relief alone filled his voice, though, when he said, "Kurt, thank you. That would be great."
Kurt took the balloons and tied them decoratively around the room while Blaine fetched the cards and dealt.
Blaine won a lot and wasn’t sure whether Kurt was letting him.
After about an hour, Blaine gave up waiting for the other shoe to drop. He tossed the cards down between them, ran a hand through his hair, and said, "I give up."
"But you’re winning."
"I feel like a heel. This is really sweet, and I find myself regretting every hand. When I think about what we could have been doing instead, it seems like kind of a waste. I’m just putting off the inevitable."
"Then I don’t regret a single minute," Kurt said. "But if you want to make it up to me, I can think of a few possibilities."
Blaine began to the shuffle the cards expertly. "I wish I wasn’t so confused."
"What’s so difficult to understand?"
"I keep thinking, ‘What am I supposed to do?’"
"What are you supposed to do?" Kurt repeated. "You’re not supposed to do anything. You’re supposed to lie back, relax, and enjoy it." He reached over and grasped Blaine’s hand. "You know. Like this. When we’re holding hands, do you feel like you have to do something?"
"Hold hands back."
"And when we’re kissing?"
"Kiss back."
Kurt was beginning to get the picture.
"What about when I’m kissing down your neck? Like this?" He leaned over and nuzzled Blaine. He felt Blaine’s skin prickle beneath his lips.
"Um..."
"Or when I do this?" He flicked his tongue against the rim of Blaine’s ear and felt Blaine shiver. "What do you do then?"
"Okay, Kurt. I get it. But this is different."
"How is it different?"
"I’m just not that good at... receiving."
Kurt was about to snap a retort at him, but by some miracle, he decided to think about it first. He thought about the very first moment they met. Blaine’s enthusiasm. Grabbing Kurt’s hand. Singing to him. And the progression of events. Giving him his phone number. Texting him. Showing up at McKinley to help with Karofsky. The tickets to shows. Getting Kurt the soloist audition with the Warblers. Rehearsing for the King’s Island Christmas Spectacular.
"Okay. So you’re really, really good at giving, and not so good at receiving. Maybe you just need practice. You can’t get everything right the first time. You learned to ride a bike, right?"
Blaine rolled his eyes. "Not with another kid propped on the handlebars! If this isn’t good for you, you could end up scarred for life, trying to get that experience out of your -"
"Stop it," Kurt said. "Stop it right now. I’m willing to risk it, and frankly, you’re freaking me out. I can’t imagine it not being good. You’re not some anonymous guy, Blaine. You’re my boyfriend. You’re going to say things like, ‘That feels good,’ ‘Slow down,’ and ‘Are you okay?’ You’re not going to take advantage of me. Jeez." He fell into sullen silence, and Blaine felt guilty.
"What if we do it at the same time?" Kurt asked.
Blaine frowned. "I’ve never done that."
"Thank god," Kurt said, vehemently.
"No, I mean - you haven't, either. We’ll be flying blind."
"Blaine, we’re already flying blind." Kurt leaned over and rubbed his arm. Blaine’s dejected expression was just too much. "Please. You trust me, right?"
Blaine gazed at him as though he was doing calculations in his head, and Kurt realized - that was it. Blaine didn’t trust him. Not in this. Blaine trusted other people just as far as he trusted himself, and Kurt moved ahead of Blaine in a lot of ways. He talked too loud, attracted too much attention, and dared too much. It was one thing to trust someone when you thought things would turn out well, but Blaine had no evidence at all that this was one of those times. This was one of those times when Blaine wanted more research, more caution, more testing. This was also one of those times when it wasn’t going to happen. Kurt knew how cautious Blaine could be, and he wasn’t willing to wait that long.
"I trust you," Blaine said, and he was so clearly miserable in the admission that they both couldn’t help but laugh.
"Let’s do this, then," Kurt said, and toed off his shoes. He wished he knew, with certainty, that this was going to turn out well. There were times, with challenging solos, that he knew he’d nail it on the first go. Other times, he knew he’d get it with work. Here, he was pretty sure he’d nail it on the first go, but the pressure was intimidating, because he didn’t know if he’d get a second chance. Should he wait? He was pressuring Blaine into this. He knew he was. He knew Blaine wasn’t ready. He also felt like the longer they waited, the less ready Blaine would be.
They stood up. Blaine reached for Kurt’s belt, and Kurt reached for Blaine’s collar. Blaine looked surprised and tipped his head inquisitively. "I want to feel you stretched out against me," Kurt said. The look of sheer gratitude in Blaine’s eyes sparked a pang of guilt in Kurt. Part of him wanted to back up and say, "Blaine, we’ll wait until you’re ready, really ready. No pressure." He wondered how much of this he was doing for Blaine’s benefit and how much was his own selfish impatience. He bit his lip.
"What is it?" Blaine was all concern, now. He’d forgotten about himself, just that fast. He reached up and rubbed the back of Kurt’s neck. Kurt marveled at how easily Blaine sensed the smallest tension and wanted to soothe it. Then he remembered all the times he’d gotten a lecture instead of sympathy, and he laughed.
"Oh, just questioning my own motives and pulling you down off the pedestal," he said.
"Questioning your motives?"
"Wondering if wanting to make you feel good is getting in the way of making you feel good."
"That actually makes sense." He tightened his hand at Kurt’s neck and pulled him close until their foreheads touched. "We don’t have to do this."
"The fact that it’s a have to for you and a get to for me should worry me far more than it does," Kurt said, fleetingly guilty again. He went back to working down Blaine’s buttons. Blaine’s fingers hovered around Kurt’s belt a moment before unbuckling it and tugging his Disneyland T-shirt out of his pants with the enthusiasm of a man going to a funeral.
Kurt pushed Blaine’s shirt off his shoulders, caught it with a finger, and dropped it on the bed. He’d seen Blaine in T-shirts, in various sports uniforms, in the bathrooms after a shower, but never quite like this. Not in Blaine’s room, in this lighting, standing up instead of reclining on the bed, completely naked from the waist up. He decided not to wait for Blaine, and he reached down and pulled his shirt over his head.
Blaine’s gaze, though still flecked with worry, roamed from Kurt's throat, down his chest, to his stomach.
"What?" Kurt asked.
Blaine’s throat and collarbone flushed. "You walk around school all day long, in that uniform that looks like everyone else, and underneath, you're the only you, ever, and I’m the only one who gets to see and touch." Before Kurt could register the movement, Blaine had his hands on the small of his back, pressing them together, chest to chest, kissing him roughly. Their teeth clicked, hard. The rest of their clothes fell off in a rush, and then they stood there, drinking in each other’s bodies. Kurt’s cock stood high, and Blaine let his hand drift down to coil around it, his other hand on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt drew a deep breath and pushed at Blaine to settle him on the bed, then followed him down, lying head-to-toe. He grabbed Blaine’s feet and kissed them, then bent his knees and scooted down toward Blaine’s crotch.
Blaine flexed his hands uncomfortably, but nothing was going to relieve the awkwardness of it all. He was used to opening his eyes and seeing Kurt’s face, not his dick. Kurt's very hard dick.
"This is weird."
"This is different," Kurt amended. "We’ll be fine. Are you comfortable?"
"Not really." Blaine looked up toward Kurt’s face, where he could only see the bottom of Kurt's chin and the outline of his nostrils. Kurt was staring at Blaine’s dick. Blaine’s very soft, limp dick. "Kurt." Kurt looked down at him, and Blaine sighed. "Um... I’m not really sure..." His voice sounded thick. He usually had opinions of his own. Desires of his own. He might sublimate them a lot, but at least he had them. Now? He wanted to crawl under the mattress and hide. "How do you want to start?"
"Like this." Kurt opened his mouth and leaned in and Blaine rolled away and sat up. His chest felt tight.
He felt Kurt’s hand on his shoulder. "Blaine?"
"I’m okay."
"Uh-huh. That's why you moved so fast."
Blaine sighed. "Could we do it together? I’m not sure I can work up the nerve, otherwise."
Kurt was silent for a moment. "We can do it however you want."
Not at all? Blaine thought. He turned around and lay down again, staring at Kurt’s dick like it was going to thump him on the head. He reached up gingerly. "Okay. On the count of three?"
"Sure," Kurt said.
"Okay. On three." He paused. "Ready?"
A beat. "Ready."
"Okay. One -" and the words dissolved into a groan as Kurt closed his mouth around him, hot and wet and soft and confusing, the ridge of his hard palatte against the head of his dick, his arm around his hip, securing him, his tongue massaging the upper side of the shaft. Kurt’s mouth was tight, sucking, sliding, pushing down, stroking, and then his hand was wrapped around him, Blaine groaned again, and he was suddenly, achingly hard.
Kurt pulled back, and Blaine sucked air back into his lungs. He hadn’t even realized his hands had moved, but they were gripping Kurt like he was going to disappear if he let go. "Oh, my god."
Kurt licked the head of Blaine’s penis once, and Blaine muttered something that didn’t even sound like words. He slid his hands down toward Kurt’s calves. He pressed the top of his head against Kurt’s groin and just breathed, trying to collect himself. He became aware of Kurt, naked and stretched out beside him, and the room felt a little cold. He was shivering.
"We agreed on three, Kurt. Three."
"How did it feel?"
"That’s not the point!"
"That’s exactly the point! Do you want me to keep a stupid agreement, or do you want to enjoy this?" He didn’t wait for an answer, but rocked his hips toward Blaine. "Please, Blaine."
Blaine extended his tongue and licked from just below the head of Kurt’s dick as far down as he could reach before Kurt rolled away.
"Oh, wow," breathed Kurt, and the note of overwhelm was music to Blaine’s ears. He actually smiled a little.
Kurt realized he'd have to find a buzzkill - really, really fast - or this was going to be over before it got started. Kissing could go on for a long time. This... not so much.
He'd just have to make sure Blaine had the same problem, and that Blaine didn't dwell on the solution.
Blaine reached out and grabbed Kurt’s ass, hauling him back. "Let’s try that again." He shoved his right hand under Kurt’s thigh and wrapped it around the back of his leg. He leaned in and breathed on Kurt’s dick; it was the same deep pink as his cheeks when he flushed, the tip smooth and firm. He slid his mouth hesitantly over the head and ran the tip of his tongue around it. Blaine could feel Kurt move closer, pressing his head against Blaine, and he felt Kurt close his mouth over the head of his own dick and the light, soft slickness of his tongue circled the head. Oh, god. Blaine’s breath was shaky; everything about him was shaky. He gripped Kurt’s ass and legs for all he was worth. Kurt began to thrust in tiny, rocking motions, and he took Blaine deeper into his mouth and moaned. The vibration made Blaine throw his head back. "Kurt, stop," he whispered urgently, his voice low and rough.
The warm, wet heat around his dick withdrew, and the air felt cool against his damp skin. Blaine was still shaking, and he couldn’t figure out whether he was clutching Kurt to keep him from pulling away, or to steady himself. This was not like making out. Here, there was no gradual modulation of arousal. This was an on/off switch, where on meant rocketing into orbit at 17,000 miles per hour. He pulled Kurt close and pressed his face to the juncture of his legs and torso, breathing in his scent. Kurt’s cock was hard beneath his cheek, the tip damp.
"How come your mouth feels so hot when it’s the same temperature as the rest of you?" He swallowed, feeling an overwhelming urge to wrap his mouth around Kurt’s dick. God. He felt like he was going to explode.
"So it feels good, then?" Kurt asked. His voice sounded like he couldn’t take in enough air to form words fully.
It was Blaine’s turn to nod soundlessly against Kurt’s legs.
"You’re not thinking of domestics?"
"What?" Blaine felt utterly confused, then smiled as he let out an amused breath. "No. In fact, I’m not sure you could call whatever I’m doing thinking."
"I’m going to kiss you now," Kurt whispered, and began to kiss his way up Blaine’s cock, from root to tip. His lips were tight and dry as he began, and Blaine could feel Kurt’s chin bumping the head of his penis. It was getting hard for Blaine to breathe. He took the tip of Kurt's dick into his mouth, but couldn't move; couldn't concentrate on anything but Kurt's mouth. Kurt gradually parted his lips so that he wasn’t kissing so much as sliding his open mouth up and down over the shaft. Blaine dug his fingers into Kurt’s ass and circled his tongue around the head of Kurt’s dick again, a little less tentative. Then Kurt took him into his hot, wet mouth and Blaine began to shiver again. Kurt built up a strong, steady beat, firm and gentle and inexorable. Blaine’s breath kept catching to the beat of Kurt’s strokes until it didn’t feel like he was breathing on his own anymore. He pulled his mouth away and stuttered, "Kurt, wait. Stop."
Kurt released Blaine and rested his head against Blaine’s legs again. Blaine’s wet cock next to his cheek. He reached up and squeezed Blaine’s hip. Blaine’s belly was a little more rounded than Kurt’s, his hips shorter. Kurt wanted to put his mouth everywhere, taste everything. Blaine’s cock tasted different than his throat, his chest, the smooth jut of his hipbone. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. It’s just... really intense."
Kurt ran his hand up and down Blaine’s calf, watching the hair flatten and spring back up as his palm passed over the skin. He looked up toward Blaine’s feet, watched how the veins traced over the instep, the variation of color and patterns, where dark hair grew sparse. He was made for this: to touch and taste and smell this boy, to make him cry out with the sheer joy of being alive and able to feel this way.
"Blaine," Kurt said. He rubbed his hands over and around Blaine’s thick, muscular thighs. "You’re fine. I’m fine. This is my very first blowjob and you keep interrupting. There’s so much of you to touch, that if I had a million years, I couldn’t do it justice. And we don’t have a million years. So I want to make every minute count. I want to make you feel good; I do. I want this to be everything you want. But I can’t keep stopping."
He leaned up on one elbow and opened his mouth against Blaine’s skin, digging his tongue into the crease of his thigh, licking and sucking his way down. "You have to tell me what you want. If you want to keep doing this, that’s fine. If you want to relax and lie back and just let me do this," he hesitated, and his voice sounded very young to his own ears as he continued, "that would be a dream come true." He placed a closed-mouth kiss to Blaine’s balls and heard Blaine inhale thinly. "If you want to stop where we are, that’s okay, too. We can get dressed and go do something else. This has already been more than I could have dreamed of.
"But whatever it is you want, Blaine, you need to tell me now. Right now. Because I can’t keep stopping like this. I need to know what you want."
Blaine’s breathing and pulse had returned to near-normal through Kurt’s speech, so his voice was fairly steady when he said, "I’d like to continue."
Kurt sighed in relief and let Blaine’s weird formality pass without comment. He closed his eyes and kissed Blaine’s cock lightly. "Okay. I’m not going to stop again until I make you come."
Blaine closed his eyes against the sting behind his eyelids.
Kurt’s mouth came down on him, humming, and the vibration set off a million detonations along every nerve. Blaine’s whole body stiffened and Kurt bore down on him with one hand hand on his hip and the other on his thigh, stilling him. Kurt hummed and licked and moaned, every once in awhile pulling back and whispering, "Blaine, you taste so good," sounding hungry - sounding absolutely starving - and Blaine felt his hips begin to move of their own accord. He fought to quiet them, but they continued to rock gently, and Blaine heard himself groaning and panting in the same rhythm.
His dick had never felt so sensitive, covered in the heat of Kurt’s mouth. He wished Kurt could pull his whole body into his mouth like that. He felt like he was unraveling, his body suffused into a molten river of need, all sense of self washed out. The sensations seemed to come from everywhere at once. The concept of a body didn’t mean what it used to; he was disoriented from lying head-to-toe. He was dimly aware of Kurt’s hands on him, holding and caressing. He felt pressure beneath his knee, lifting upward. He separated his thighs obediently, the open vulnerability of the position making him clutch Kurt tighter. One knee pointed toward the ceiling, the angle of his hips changed subtly, Kurt was taking him deeper, and it tore a groan from him that seemed to drag up from the soles of his feet.
Kurt brought his knee up in a mirror of Blaine’s posture to give Blaine more access. Blaine accepted the invitation on blind instinct, one hand steadying Kurt's dick. He couldn’t get enough of this. He couldn’t think. He moved up and down on Kurt in the same rhythm as his hips, and suddenly Kurt changed his rhythm at the same time so they were perfectly in sync. It only lasted seconds, but Blaine’s vision began to grey out from the feeling that he’d fallen into an ocean so vast he’d never be found. He could feel Kurt’s soft hair bumping against the inside his upraised thigh, and it nearly sent him over the edge.
Kurt’s hands were moving, then; hauling Blaine’s hips into a new position. Kurt rolled them, Blaine on his back, Kurt kneeling above him, his dick sliding away and up out of reach. Blaine’s mouth felt cold and empty and he wanted Kurt back more than anything. His own hips flat on the mattress, Kurt’s hot, hot mouth stroking him, stroking him, god, he would do anything, anything, to be able to take Kurt into his mouth. He needed Kurt in his mouth. He needed that more than anything in the world.
"Kurt, please," Blaine said, and couldn’t believe how ragged he sounded as he pushed up. Kurt let him roll them side by side again, and Blaine hauled Kurt close again and took him back in and felt a sweetness he knew he’d never be able to name. The heat of Kurt’s mouth seemed to burn along every square inch of his skin.
Kurt was trying to synchronize them again, and Blaine felt his body begin to convulse in its own in rhythms, rhythms he couldn’t control or follow. Part of him, in the back of his mind, tried to keep his teeth shielded and his jaw loose. An inner mantra of hold on and be careful formed in a tiny sharp point in his brain, but that felt like the only part of him that was human and cognizant anymore. The rest of him was enveloped in a deep, slow slide to climax. His body bucked helplessly; not just his hips, but the muscles in his legs, his arms, his abdomen clenched. The only things holding him together were his hands on Kurt, Kurt’s hands on him, and their lips. Oh, god, oh, god, their lips stretched over each other, the hollows of their mouths.
Blaine closed his eyes, feeling tears begin to squeeze out beneath his eyelids. He couldn’t hold back. The searing sensations rolled over him in exquisite overload, wringing his orgasm from him with a full-throated scream against and around Kurt’s dick. And then Kurt was coming, the sound trapped in his throat by Blaine’s dick and amplified through Blaine’s body. Blaine’s mouth flooded with Kurt’s semen, and he pulled back a little frantically to swallow without choking, his muscles not quite working right because he’d been pressing forward for so long, trying to climb into Kurt, not yet accustomed to moving the other direction - away - and shuddering uncontrollably. He held onto Kurt and pressed his face - wet with tears and sweat and come - against him and all he could do was whisper, "Oh, my god, Kurt. Oh, my god. Kurt, oh, my god."
Kurt’s breathing was heavy and uneven, and he was shivering, too, but he managed to force words past his trembling lips. "Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair."
Kurt probably meant it to be funny, but all Blaine could think was that Kurt had completely laid waste to his body, mind, and soul. He didn’t quite yet feel separate; Kurt’s legs seemed to belong to him, somehow. He wriggled down a few inches and buried his face in Kurt’s upside-down, nonexistent lap, kissing his thighs, hands massaging his legs, hard, part of him still wanting to pull Kurt inside. Breathing hard. Wondering if he’d ever remember his own name.
"So, that was good?" Kurt asked.
Blaine listened to his heart pound. He couldn’t begin to answer.
"Did you see stars? I think I saw stars."
"Kurt, I saw a fucking nova." He wasn’t even close to coming down from it all. "I didn’t know it was possible to feel like that. Did you?" He looked down toward his feet, toward Kurt’s head. "Was it - Kurt, I can’t even..." He sat up. His own body felt unfamiliar. He turned around and lay down facing Kurt. He’d almost forgotten Kurt had a face. Kurt’s eyes were amused, his hair was a mess, his mouth was red and swollen and smug, and Blaine needed to kiss him. He put his hand in Kurt’s hair and pulled him in, hard, then rested their foreheads together. "God. I don’t think we should do that very often."
"Because..."
"I forgot my name, Kurt. I literally couldn’t remember who I was."
Kurt reached up and pushed a stray curl back behind Blaine’s ear. "It’s okay. You’re back now. Safe with me."
"That was not safe."
"Come here." Blaine turned and spooned up against him as Kurt spoke. "Did it feel good?"
"Kurt, I’ve never felt anything like that."
"Did it feel good?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it felt great."
Kurt kissed the back of his neck, and Blaine shuddered. "We don’t have to do it often. We don’t have to do it at all, ever again."
"That’s not what I -"
"Listen," Kurt hushed him. "Do you remember why we did this to begin with?"
Blaine didn’t. All he knew was that Kurt was holding him and telling him something important. He shook his head. "I’m still not quite here, yet. I remember undressing you. I remember seeing you naked. Not like in the shower, or the bathroom, but different." He wasn’t making any sense.
Kurt waited. "Do you remember what you said you weren’t any good at?"
"Receiving," Blaine said instantly. "I wasn’t any good at receiving."
"I think you got better at it," Kurt said softly. "What do you think?"
"Yeah." Blaine tried to remember. This was one of those things that separated everything into before and after. And it made everything from before seem like it happened in another world.
"I just want you to remember that when something’s wrong, when you’re in trouble, you need to let me help. I could have been there for you weeks ago, if you’d let me."
"I know," Blaine said.
"You have to trust me."
"I know," Blaine said. "I’m sorry."
"Don’t be sorry," Kurt said. "Just stop trying to be so strong all the time. It’s tedious."
"Yeah," Blaine said. "I’ll work on that."
They lounged until it started getting cold and Kurt said he was ravenous, then began pulling on their clothes and tossing around ideas for food. Kurt argued for the commissary because it was close, cheap, and easy, but Blaine wanted to go somewhere quiet. He told Kurt that his clothes felt a little too heavy for his body, that things seemed too solid. He kept looking into Kurt’s eyes, and finally, Kurt asked him if he was okay.
"I didn’t know I could feel like that," Blaine said. "I didn’t expect... that much." Blaine looked at him. "It frightens me, a little. You seem to be handling it a lot better."
Kurt shrugged into the jacket Blaine was loaning him. "I’m not. I’ve just been worried about you. As soon as I get some food in me, I’ll have my own self-absorbed nervous breakdown and you can take care of all my raving insecurities. I promise." He drew Blaine toward the door. "Or maybe I’m just relieved that I can get rid of the cucumbers."