Fic: Resolution, Evolution: a continuation
Title: Resolution, Evolution: a continuation
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Future fic. Angst. Allusions to a hate crime. Brain injuries. Smut.
Word Count: 3.372
Summary: But this…this reminds Blaine of before, and if he closes his eyes, lets the gentle melody wash over him, he can almost imagine nothing has changed. That he’s the same Blaine he was so long ago, and there’s no reason to be nervous about having sex with his fiancé.
A hate crime leaves Blaine damaged and Kurt refuses to let it bring them down.
Part of the Lovesong verse
A/N: People always say write what you know, and I know brain inuries. I work with people who have brain injuries and I am constantly impressed and surprised at their strength, at what they overcome and accomplish everyday, and I wanted to document that.
This chapter takes place the night of Resolution, Evolution and as actual smut *gasp*. This is my first attempt at writing smut, so, you know, read at your own risk. Also, I can't promise I will be able to update again until this semester is over, as I have a lot to get done and finals to study for! As always...if there's something you're really interested in seeing let me know in a comment!!
You can join me on tumblr here!
As always, I want to thank
ennisjack for her amazing beta work, she is honestly amazing. Also a big thanks to fides_rationem, ohblainers, and neaf for looking this over/providing amazing advice :) You guys are lovely.
Lovesong
Together (September 15th, 2018)
Of Hurt and Hope (June 20th, 2018; July 13th, 2018)
A Time of Firsts (November 24th, 2018; December 25th, 2018; March 16th, 2019)
To Sleep, To Wake (May 7th, 2018)
(fear) (June 5th, 2018)
Coffee is a Bitter Drink (June 22nd, 2019)
A Father's Eyes (April 23rd, 2018; October 19th, 2018; February 15th, 2019; October 12th, 2019 )
Resolution, Evolution (November 5th, 2019; December 2nd-3rd, 2019)
(feel) (November 16th, 2018)
-
December 3rd, 2019 (later that night)
Kurt fiddles with the iPod and when the music starts Blaine’s not sure if he wants to laugh or cry. He’s been feeling like doing a lot of both, lately. The music is soft, mellow and romantic, and Blaine immediately recognizes it from the playlist. Their playlist. The one they made together, so long ago now, carefully selecting each song, adding and deleting them as necessary. So that it remained perfect. Blaine suspects if he hadn’t…if everything hadn’t changed over the past year and a half, then the playlist would sound different. Out with the old, in with the new.
But this…this reminds Blaine of before, and if he closes his eyes, lets the gentle melody wash over him, he can almost imagine nothing has changed. That he’s the same Blaine he was so long ago, and there’s no reason to be nervous about having sex with his fiancé.
“Blaine?” Kurt’s worried voice opens Blaine’s eyes. Kurt’s paused lighting the candles (and Blaine’s beginning to wonder whether the glint in his eyes is a fondness for candlelit sex or pyromania), and is looking at Blaine, face concerned.
“You still have it,” Blaine says, but Kurt just looks even more confused. “The playlist.”
“Of course I still have it,” Kurt responds, face relaxing with a smile. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember it.”
“I remember,” Blaine says and Kurt’s face glows before he resumes lighting his candles. There are things that Blaine doesn’t remember, birthdays and people and events. Knocked out of his head with everything else. He didn’t remember Kurt’s birthday, or Finn’s girlfriend, or what they did on their last anniversary. Olivia and Janessa made flashcards, going over things again and again until he knew the important stuff, but there are still things, Kurt will mention something and Blaine will draw a blank. Kurt will reassure Blaine it’s ok, it’s not important, but Blaine always feels bad. That there’s something he can’t share with Kurt, something they’ve shared together that he doesn’t even know about.
“Hey,” Kurt’s voice draws Blaine out of his thoughts and he realizes Kurt’s right there, face barely a foot from his own. “You here?”
Blaine nods. “Sorry, just…thinking.”
“Do you still want to do this? We can wait,” Kurt says, words rushed and concerned. Blaine just smiles, reaches out to Kurt’s arm and pulls him in until Kurt hits the bed, Blaine’s knees on either side of Kurt’s thighs. Kurt relaxes, hand reaching behind Blaine’s neck as Blaine tilts his head up. Kurt tastes like peppermint.
This kiss is more heated, more desperate than the one earlier in the day. Kurt’s hands fall to Blaine’s waist, and Blaine reaches to Kurt’s shoulders, pulling him closer. His movements are still jerky and Kurt slips forward, hands falling to the bed on either side of Blaine, chest pressing flush against Blaine’s. Blaine tips, balance suddenly thrown off, and he falls backwards, landing on the bed with an ungraceful thump. The bed dips as Kurt crawls over him, hands on either side of Blaine’s shoulders, eyes twinkling.
Kurt leans down until their noses are grazing and Blaine closes his eyes with an exhale as Kurt ghosts his lips against Blaine’s. Blaine parts his lips, tipping his head but Kurt surprises him, pressing a kiss to his chin, down his jaw, to his neck. A shiver runs down Blaine’s spine as Kurt’s breath tickles the sensitive skin.
“I’m sorry you’ve had to wait for me,” Blaine’s words are soft, heavy. Kurt just shakes his head, eyes warm and loving, silencing any more words with a kiss. He smoothes his thumb across Blaine’s cheek, brushing lightly over his earlobe and down his neck. It’s not much, but the message is clear. I would wait for you forever.
“You’re wearing far too many clothes,” Kurt breathes, moving his attention down Blaine’s body. Blaine stutters and feels himself blushing, embarrassed by his brain’s lack of anything intelligent to say. Kurt chuckles, lips colliding with Blaine’s quickly before pulling away and helping him back into a sitting position.
“Let’s get you comfortable,” Kurt says and Blaine feels something sink inside him.
“Please, Kurt,” he manages, looking pleadingly into Kurt’s eyes. “Not tonight.”
Kurt frowns. “What is it? Did I do something?”
Blaine shakes his head, looks at his toes, gives them a wiggle.
“I want to do this…equally.” Another wiggle. “I don’t want you to…take care of me.”
Kurt’s still for a moment and Blaine’s eyes stay locked on his feet, the fear of Kurt’s reaction coursing through him. Then hands, gripping his own, fingers twining tightly.
“Blaine,” Kurt’s voice finally draws Blaine’s eyes, full of love and understanding. “We’re always equal. I just want this to be okay for you.”
Blaine squeezes Kurt’s fingers, grounding himself.
“I want…” he pauses, brain desperately trying to find the right words. “I’ll tell you if I need help. I promise.”
“Of course,” Kurt says, hand detaching from Blaine’s to cup his jaw, lips pressing gently to Blaine’s. “Tonight is for you.”
“Tonight is for us,” Blaine corrects and Kurt hums, lips turning into a smile against Blaine’s.
“Well, I would like us to be significantly more naked.”
It’s an awkward scramble, neither wanting to break their kiss but rearranging themselves on the bed until Blaine’s pressed against the pillows, Kurt’s hands pulling up Blaine’s shirt, impeded only by Blaine’s own desire to help. Eventually Kurt pulls away with a laugh, swatting playfully at Blaine’s hands to stop, successfully yanking the shirt over his head before clumsily working at the buttons on his own shirt and throwing it to the floor.
Then chests pressed flush, hot skin against hot skin, Kurt’s moan vibrating through Blaine. Blaine swallows the sound, lips parting so he can run his tongue along Kurt’s bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth and releasing with a little nip. Blaine figures he’s doing something right because suddenly Kurt’s straddling him, fingers running down Blaine’s back, tongue sliding against Blaine’s and its frantic and messy and uncoordinated but to Blaine it’s perfect.
It’s somewhere around when Kurt moves back to his neck, breath hot on his skin that Blaine gather up the courage. Well, it’s not so much courage as it is Blaine’s mind shutting off, overcome with love and lust and what even is the difference anymore and his hand is sliding down, grazing over Kurt’s stomach, his hipbones, rough denim.
Kurt inhales sharply, fingers digging into Blaine’s back and hips giving an involuntary thrust as Blaine’s hand goes lower than it has before. He can feel Kurt, hard and right there, and he lets his thumb trail down the fabric experimentally before pressing his palm against him firmly. Kurt’s hips jerk forward and he lets out a whine, face burrowing into the crook of Blaine’s neck.
And Blaine feels a wave of guilt wash through him because it’s his fault Kurt hasn’t been touched like this in so long. It’s his fault Kurt can’t keep from rutting against him like he can’t remember what this feels like. It’s guilt, and nervousness, and so familiar from nights before, coursing through him and freezing his movements until Kurt draws away and it’s all over.
But not tonight.
“You’re perfect,” Kurt says like he knows what Blaine’s thinking, voice raspier than normal and, god, Blaine’s doing that to him and everything is forgotten except Kurt, and how much he wants.
“I want you,” Blaine knows it’s not much more than a whisper, but Kurt whimpers and he knows he heard. “I want you. Now.”
And then Kurt’s fumbling with his pants, cursing the zipper that always sticks, and the way the fabric seems to be glued to his legs. It’s an amusing sight, and Blaine has to bite his lip to keep from laughing as Kurt finally rids himself of the offending clothing and just like that he’s naked. He’s naked and achingly hard and Blaine feels embarrassment creep into his cheeks at his own lack of arousal.
It’s not that he’s not turned on; Blaine’s pretty sure he’s never been so turned on in his life. It’s more that somewhere between his brain and his cock the message is getting lost, or maybe it isn’t strong enough to make it there in the first place. Either way, Blaine’s scared Kurt will take it personally and Blaine just wishes he could be like before, and sex isn’t this huge ordeal. This challenge that he isn’t sure he can win.
But then Kurt’s helping him to glide down, off the pillows and onto his back, making sure he’s comfortable without saying anything. His fingers slide under the elastic of Blaine’s sweatpants, pausing, eyes meeting Blaine’s. Blaine nods. It’s ok. Kurt’s just as nervous as Blaine is, he can see it in the slight lift of Kurt’s eyebrows, the way his hands falter at Blaine’s waistband. It’s not like Blaine hasn’t been naked around Kurt, even after his injury, but this is so, so different. This isn’t Kurt helping Blaine with his shower, or getting dressed, or anything else he couldn’t do for himself. This is so much more. This is about them. Nothing else.
Blaine’s limbs are still too stiff to offer much help as Kurt slowly pulls Blaine’s pants over his hips and down his legs, skin tingling where his fingers had been. And then Blaine feels exposed and embarrassed because Kurt’s looking at him.
“I don’t-” Blaine starts, but is quieted by Kurt’s finger on his lips, replaced seconds later by soft lips.
“I know,” Kurt breathes, and suddenly Blaine can’t because Kurt’s wrapping him in his hand and gives him a firm stroke. It’s slow, everything muffled around the edges, but Blaine expects that’s just how things are now. Nothing is as sharp, as quick, as intense as before, but Kurt is patient and keeps going until Blaine responds and he feels heat beginning to pool low in his belly.
“Ready?” The word is excited, but cautious, allowing Blaine an out if he needs. But Blaine’s pretty sure an out is the last thing he needs so he nods, swallowing thickly, mouth suddenly gone dry. Kurt stretches out, inching his fingers forward until he snatches up the lube from the bedside table with a hum of success.
“Kurt,” Blaine mutters, feeling slightly ashamed but unable to ignore the ache growing in his back any longer. “I think I need…something. For my back.”
Kurt nods, but he doesn’t voice the concern so evident in his eyes and Blaine is thankful.
“Would…a pillow?” Kurt asks, eyes fixing on the only thing on the bed. And as Kurt helps Blaine, lifts his hips to arrange the pillow under him, the ache and strain absorbed into the synthetic cotton, Blaine finally feels right. He doesn’t even remember why he felt nervous to begin with because this is Kurt, and things were never supposed to go any other way. No matter how much help he needs, how much he can or can’t do. No matter if this works or not, Kurt will make this easy for him, make it okay.
He hears the click of the bottle of lube snapping open, Kurt methodically coating his fingers, lips meeting Blaine’s, closed mouth and soft, before he lets his finger trace down, smoothing over sensitive skin. And then he’s pressing in and Blaine’s breath catches at the sensation, the stretch after going so long without. Kurt waits a moment, letting Blaine breathe before slowly, carefully, adding another. Blaine lets his eyes close, drawing in a deep breath as he gets used to the feeling, so familiar and yet so not. It’s different, slightly subdued in a way he doesn’t remember, the aching need he used to feel no longer present. After a silent moment Kurt scissors his fingers and Blaine can’t help but fist at the sheets under him.
“Is this okay?” Kurt’s gentle voice draws Blaine’s eyes open; he’s looking at him, examining his face with concern. Blaine nods.
“Yeah,” he says, surprised at how hoarse his voice is. Kurt smiles, pressing a kiss to Blaine’s stomach, right to the side of his bellybutton as he crooks his fingers, searching for that.
A moan escapes Blaine before he even realizes it’s his, he can feel the sweat already beginning to bead on his forehead as Kurt strokes over his prostate, a jolt of pleasure shooting through him. He presses back against Kurt’s fingers, wanting, craving more because, god, it’s been so long. So long since he’s felt this, this intensity, this closeness, this giving himself over to Kurt. It’s a different sort of vulnerability than the one he’s experienced for the last year and a half; it’s open, it’s willing, it’s equal.
Kurt’s mouth is back on his skin, pressing soft, warm kisses to his stomach, up his chest, tongue teasing lightly at one of his nipples. Blaine arches into him, the stiffness in his limbs beginning to melt away with the speeding of his heart. Kurt’s fingers slow slightly as his lips latch Blaine’s nipple, a light suck and Blaine is drawing in a shaky breath and Kurt’s not going fast enough for his broken mind to hold onto the pleasure.
“Kurt,” he manages, voice slightly choked and Kurt looks up, immediately concerned. “More…please. I’m going to…lose it.”
Kurt nods, understanding, and Blaine feels the slight burn as a third finger is added, opening and stretching and stroking over that spot that makes his blood feel hot, electric. And then emptiness, a soft noise swallowed in Blaine’s throat at the change in sensation, interrupted only by the crinkle of a condom wrapper, the familiar click of the bottle of lube.
And then he’s right there, eyes meeting Blaine’s briefly before lining himself up, easing slowly into Blaine. Blaine tenses for a moment, and Kurt stops, letting him adjust before pressing in again, a slow centimeter crawl inside. Blaine’s breathing hard and he can see the sweat on Kurt that matches his own, cheeks flushing a deep red, eyes dark with lust and longing.
“Blaine.” The name is barely a breathy whisper and Kurt’s lips are suddenly on his, tongue working its way inside, and Blaine’s beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed but this time it’s in a good way. Kurt is mostly still, letting Blaine get used to the sensation until Blaine thinks he might go crazy if something, anything, doesn’t happen.
“Move,” Blaine grunts, lips clinging to Kurt’s, reluctant to let go. And then Kurt’s pulling away, pulling back and Blaine can feel the slow drag inside him, filling him, holding him together, keeping him here. Kurt moves, pressing in and out, slow at first, giving Blaine a chance to object, to tell him if it’s too much, then faster, more urgent. Blaine can see the change in Kurt, his own need, want, desire taking over, forcing choked whines from his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing under the pale skin as he tries to swallow the noises, and god, Blaine just wants to touch, to feel, to be.
Sweat slicks their bodies, damp hair clinging to foreheads, hearts pounding too fast. Kurt’s stomach drags over Blaine’s cock, trapped between their bodies and Blaine can feel the heat coiling low in his belly and he forgets everything. Everything except Kurt, and the way he is nuzzling against his shoulder, all lips and tongue and nipping teeth, needy whimpers. He slides his hands up, trailing over Kurt’s legs until he’s gripping his ass, and if his muscles ache or his fingers are stiff he doesn’t notice because all he wants is more, so he pulls Kurt into him with more force, pushing back and arching up and everything is building, building. Everything is too sharp and too muffled at the same time, like he can see it but it’s just beyond his reach, and he’s so close but it’s not enough and he’s going everywhere but nowhere.
A loud moan shatters the rhythm and he feels Kurt jerk into him sharply before shuddering, forehead falling hard against Blaine as his orgasm courses through him. Blaine strokes a hand up his side and down his back as Kurt sags into him, breaths still coming hard and fast as the aftershocks vibrate through his skin and Blaine can’t imagine ever seeing someone more beautiful. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, not quite focusing properly as he looks up at Blaine, mouth curling into a relaxed smile, finger reaching to trace the curve of Blaine’s jaw.
“Was that okay?” Kurt asks, voice heavy and tired. Blaine tilts his face to capture Kurt’s lips with his own.
“More than okay,” he breathes his reply and Kurt smiles before pulling away with and frowning.
“Oh,” he says, eyes moving down Blaine’s body. He’s pulling out of Blaine and Blaine feels strangely empty at the loss; a small part of him wishes it would have lasted longer, that they could have stayed together longer. But Kurt disposes of the condom discretely and he’s back, pressing gentle kisses down Blaine’s chest, over his stomach, to the sensitive skin stretched over his hipbones. A hand skims over his inner thigh and wraps around the base of his cock. Kurt’s tongue is warm, smooth, leaving a cooling trail as he slides over Blaine’s cock, circling the head. And then he’s sinking down, taking him in his mouth, tongue flattening across the base.
It sweeps through him like a wave, blood boiling and heart pounding and Blaine can’t even think to be embarrassed by the noises that escape his throat as Kurt bobs down, cheeks hollowing, tongue pressing. His hips give an involuntary jerk and he runs his fingers through Kurt’s damp hair. Kurt hums in satisfaction and sinks further and it’s all Blaine can do to not shout at the pressure that’s building, tightening low in his stomach. He bites his lip against a choked whimper, hands moving to grab blindly at the sheets beneath him as Kurt swallows him down, a guttural moan vibrating through Blaine and he knows he’s not going to last.
“Kurt,” he manages, voice small and choked. The cool air as Kurt pulls off makes Blaine gasp in contrast to the heat of before and Kurt’s hand is stroking up, thumb teasing at the head before moving back down with a twist and that’s all it takes. It rolls through him with a moan, exploding behind his eyes, nerve endings firing, and for a moment his entire body is consumed.
It feels like hours but really it’s just seconds, limbs tingling, the aftershocks of pleasure jolting through him, slowly fading down to nothing and Blaine feels himself sinking, melting into the bed below him. He feels detached, body more relaxed than he remembers feeling in a long time, a rag doll with loose cotton instead of bones.
Something wet and cool brings him back and he blinks his eyes open, watching with dreamy interest as Kurt smoothes a damp washcloth over his belly, washing him clean. He smiles when he sees Blaine looking at him, leaning forward to press against Blaine’s lips, lingering, noses connecting in an Eskimo kiss even after their lips have parted. Kurt lets out a small laugh, breathy and tired and happy and that’s all Blaine needs. They don’t say anything, they don’t need to. Kurt helps Blaine into his pajamas, rearranges the pillows and crawls in beside him.
This time Blaine pulls Kurt into him, Kurt’s back warm against his chest, heart still beating faster than normal, and Blaine lets his nose tickle the hairs at the back of his neck, eyes fluttering shut. They’ve beaten this. They both know. It doesn’t matter how much work they still have in front of them. It doesn’t matter that Blaine still can’t walk long distances, forgets to put on both socks in the morning, struggles with the simplest math problems. It doesn’t matter that Kurt still puts in extra hours to pay the medical bills, has nightmares about the attack, can’t walk outside at night without having a panic attack. None of this matters, because in the end, it’s not about that.
It’s about them.
Bonus: Letters
Next part: Shatter