Fic: Sunbeam
Title: Sunbeam
Author: lookninjas
Fandoms: Glee
Pairing/Character(s): Kurt/Blaine
Rating: PG
Warnings: Absolutely none at all. Completely warningless.
Word Count: 905
Spoilers: None
Standard-Issue Short-Form Disclaimer: I do not hold copyright to Glee, make no claims to such, and am not profiting from this.
Summary: Blaine is half-asleep. Kurt should be annoyed by this, but he's not.
Author's Notes: And then I went "Screw that" and wrote shamelessly fluffy cuddlefic. Why? Because I can, you guys. Because I can.
If this fic had a soundtrack, it would be Daydreamin' by Lupe Fiasco and the incomparable Jill Scott. And if this fic had a flip side/companion piece (which, incidentally, it totally does), it would be And I Was a Cartographer by robotsfighting, in which Kurt is half-asleep and Blaine is totally fine with that. AND THERE ARE CUDDLES FOR EVERYONE.
There's a soft thud as Blaine's paperback copy of The Odyssey hits the floor, and Kurt sighs. He knew it.
"Don't fall asleep," he chides, eyes still fixed on his U.S. History notes, right hand still smoothing idly over Blaine's back as his boyfriend sprawls out on the bed. It's probably too late already; if Blaine's knocking his textbooks off the bed, that means he's a goner.
(Admittedly, it probably doesn't help that Kurt's still petting the small of Blaine's back, but. Well.)
When they started, barely an hour ago, Blaine was sitting perfectly upright on Kurt's bed, legs crossed and back straight, his required reading open in front of him. The model of an eager student. Now he's sprawled on his belly, legs parted just a little bit, his arms folded in front of him as a sort of makeshift pillow, and The Odyssey is on the floor with its pages crumpled. Kurt might be worried about Blaine's apparent exhaustion if he wasn't used to it by now.
Seriously, he always does this.
Blaine finally manages to raise his head a little bit, resettling so that his face is turned in Kurt's direction, cheek pressed against his folded hands. "'Mm nah 'sleep," he mumbles, his eyes falling shut again, and Kurt sighs.
It wouldn't be so bad if Blaine had the decency to have really awful grades. But alas. He sleeps through at least half their study sessions, and he's still acing everything. Kurt's pretty sure he should be annoyed. He probably would be annoyed, actually, but Blaine has this way of shifting underneath Kurt's touch and pressing his hip to Kurt's knee and making these little happy humming noises and Kurt kind of forgets how to be angry when he does that.
"Liar," Kurt says, but he knows how affectionate he sounds when he says it, and Blaine smiles and shifts under Kurt's hand, his t-shirt bunching up just a little, just enough so Kurt can get a peek at the small of Blaine's back, bare skin inviting above the waistband of Blaine's Dalton slacks. "You are so not awake right now."
Blaine just hums again, and Kurt sets his palm against the warm skin of Blaine's back. "Is this all right?" he asks, quietly. Because he's had his hands all over Blaine's sides and his back and his stomach and his shoulders, sliding and gripping and pulling him closer, but those were different moments, with their breath panting out harshly and their heartbeats so fast and loud and everything a little bit out of control. This is different, special, and Kurt doesn't want to break that.
"'Sgood," Blaine agrees, and shifts again, closer.
Kurt lets his fingertips just graze the skin for a little bit, then pushes up, feeling the knobs of Blaine's spine, the way his muscles shift as he moves, always wanting more touch, more. Kurt pushes his notes off the bed to join Blaine's required reading and lets his other hand tangle in the ungelled hair at the nape of Blaine's neck, gently petting; he watches with awe as Blaine just melts under his hands.
Kurt's never viewed himself as a total pariah, not really -- his father trusts him and his friends trust him and he knows that. But he's pretty sure that no one has ever trusted him the way that Blaine is trusting him right now. He's like a cat sprawled out in a sunbeam, basking in the warmth of Kurt's attention.
And Kurt could do anything, really. He could let his hands slip down to Blaine's sides, that soft part just above his hips where he's most ticklish, and just ambush him, making him laugh and squirm and flail out until the two of them fall off the bed to join their neglected homework, still giggling and crumpled together. He could lean down and run his lips over the same bit of skin that he's mapping with his right hand, memorize the taste of it, then work his way up until Blaine can't stand it anymore and has to roll over underneath him, pressing their bodies together. He could pull away with a sigh and go back to his astonishingly dull notes on Reagan's economic policies and the Iran-Contra scandal; he could leave the room entirely and let Blaine have his nap. He could do anything.
When Kurt looks down again, Blaine's eyes are open; he looks sleepily up at Kurt through long lashes.
Kurt sighs and lets his left hand slip out of Blaine's hair as he stretches his body alongside Blaine's, laying on his side with his head pillowed on his arm. Blaine rolls up to meet him, his forehead pressed against Kurt's chest, arm reaching out to wrap around Kurt's waist and pull him close. Kurt's sweater has ridden up just a little bit and Blaine's fingertips brush against bare skin. Kurt shivers and presses closer, letting Blaine trace circles on his back.
"You're adorable," he says, as Blaine nuzzles against his collarbones. "Can I keep you?"
"'Kay," Blaine mumbles, hot breath against Kurt's skin, his fingers lazily searching out the knobs of Kurt's spine.
Kurt lets out a happy, humming noise. His hand flattens against the warm skin of Blaine's back, pulling him in tight.
He closes his eyes and lets himself drift.
Author: lookninjas
Fandoms: Glee
Pairing/Character(s): Kurt/Blaine
Rating: PG
Warnings: Absolutely none at all. Completely warningless.
Word Count: 905
Spoilers: None
Standard-Issue Short-Form Disclaimer: I do not hold copyright to Glee, make no claims to such, and am not profiting from this.
Summary: Blaine is half-asleep. Kurt should be annoyed by this, but he's not.
Author's Notes: And then I went "Screw that" and wrote shamelessly fluffy cuddlefic. Why? Because I can, you guys. Because I can.
If this fic had a soundtrack, it would be Daydreamin' by Lupe Fiasco and the incomparable Jill Scott. And if this fic had a flip side/companion piece (which, incidentally, it totally does), it would be And I Was a Cartographer by robotsfighting, in which Kurt is half-asleep and Blaine is totally fine with that. AND THERE ARE CUDDLES FOR EVERYONE.
There's a soft thud as Blaine's paperback copy of The Odyssey hits the floor, and Kurt sighs. He knew it.
"Don't fall asleep," he chides, eyes still fixed on his U.S. History notes, right hand still smoothing idly over Blaine's back as his boyfriend sprawls out on the bed. It's probably too late already; if Blaine's knocking his textbooks off the bed, that means he's a goner.
(Admittedly, it probably doesn't help that Kurt's still petting the small of Blaine's back, but. Well.)
When they started, barely an hour ago, Blaine was sitting perfectly upright on Kurt's bed, legs crossed and back straight, his required reading open in front of him. The model of an eager student. Now he's sprawled on his belly, legs parted just a little bit, his arms folded in front of him as a sort of makeshift pillow, and The Odyssey is on the floor with its pages crumpled. Kurt might be worried about Blaine's apparent exhaustion if he wasn't used to it by now.
Seriously, he always does this.
Blaine finally manages to raise his head a little bit, resettling so that his face is turned in Kurt's direction, cheek pressed against his folded hands. "'Mm nah 'sleep," he mumbles, his eyes falling shut again, and Kurt sighs.
It wouldn't be so bad if Blaine had the decency to have really awful grades. But alas. He sleeps through at least half their study sessions, and he's still acing everything. Kurt's pretty sure he should be annoyed. He probably would be annoyed, actually, but Blaine has this way of shifting underneath Kurt's touch and pressing his hip to Kurt's knee and making these little happy humming noises and Kurt kind of forgets how to be angry when he does that.
"Liar," Kurt says, but he knows how affectionate he sounds when he says it, and Blaine smiles and shifts under Kurt's hand, his t-shirt bunching up just a little, just enough so Kurt can get a peek at the small of Blaine's back, bare skin inviting above the waistband of Blaine's Dalton slacks. "You are so not awake right now."
Blaine just hums again, and Kurt sets his palm against the warm skin of Blaine's back. "Is this all right?" he asks, quietly. Because he's had his hands all over Blaine's sides and his back and his stomach and his shoulders, sliding and gripping and pulling him closer, but those were different moments, with their breath panting out harshly and their heartbeats so fast and loud and everything a little bit out of control. This is different, special, and Kurt doesn't want to break that.
"'Sgood," Blaine agrees, and shifts again, closer.
Kurt lets his fingertips just graze the skin for a little bit, then pushes up, feeling the knobs of Blaine's spine, the way his muscles shift as he moves, always wanting more touch, more. Kurt pushes his notes off the bed to join Blaine's required reading and lets his other hand tangle in the ungelled hair at the nape of Blaine's neck, gently petting; he watches with awe as Blaine just melts under his hands.
Kurt's never viewed himself as a total pariah, not really -- his father trusts him and his friends trust him and he knows that. But he's pretty sure that no one has ever trusted him the way that Blaine is trusting him right now. He's like a cat sprawled out in a sunbeam, basking in the warmth of Kurt's attention.
And Kurt could do anything, really. He could let his hands slip down to Blaine's sides, that soft part just above his hips where he's most ticklish, and just ambush him, making him laugh and squirm and flail out until the two of them fall off the bed to join their neglected homework, still giggling and crumpled together. He could lean down and run his lips over the same bit of skin that he's mapping with his right hand, memorize the taste of it, then work his way up until Blaine can't stand it anymore and has to roll over underneath him, pressing their bodies together. He could pull away with a sigh and go back to his astonishingly dull notes on Reagan's economic policies and the Iran-Contra scandal; he could leave the room entirely and let Blaine have his nap. He could do anything.
When Kurt looks down again, Blaine's eyes are open; he looks sleepily up at Kurt through long lashes.
Kurt sighs and lets his left hand slip out of Blaine's hair as he stretches his body alongside Blaine's, laying on his side with his head pillowed on his arm. Blaine rolls up to meet him, his forehead pressed against Kurt's chest, arm reaching out to wrap around Kurt's waist and pull him close. Kurt's sweater has ridden up just a little bit and Blaine's fingertips brush against bare skin. Kurt shivers and presses closer, letting Blaine trace circles on his back.
"You're adorable," he says, as Blaine nuzzles against his collarbones. "Can I keep you?"
"'Kay," Blaine mumbles, hot breath against Kurt's skin, his fingers lazily searching out the knobs of Kurt's spine.
Kurt lets out a happy, humming noise. His hand flattens against the warm skin of Blaine's back, pulling him in tight.
He closes his eyes and lets himself drift.