
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/192575.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Glee
  Relationship:
      Blaine_Anderson/Kurt_Hummel
  Character:
      Kurt_Hummel, Blaine_Anderson
  Additional Tags:
      Smut, blowjob, First_Time
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-04-30 Words: 3894
****** I will worship your body as the moon does the sun ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Prom (and kilts) make teenaged cliches out of the best of us. Kurt
     learns this first hand. Originally posted 4/17/2011
Notes
     Thanks to my darling Ro for the beta and my Tumblr friends and
     followers for encouraging me. Also thanks to Alo for drawing fanart,
     of which I linked in the body of the fic. <3
Maybe the kilt is too much. The problem isn’t that people stare at him like
he's a freak when he walks into the gymnasium or that Principal Figgins looks
like he's about to pop a blood vessel in that very shiny forehead of his.
Kurt’s worn more flashy, overly sexualized statements before - harnesses that
blur the line between sartorial and outright bondage and pants so tight they
should be illegal - so a traditional kilt with the MacArthur clan tartan is
dressed down in comparison. Blaine never commented when he wore those or his
boots with the slight heel or anything else. He just smiled adoringly and told
Kurt that he looked nice.
The kilt, however, is a different animal.
“You look really, really hot.”
Blaine’s breath is so hot in his ear, it gives Kurt the chills. He says it
right there, in front of his dad, voice dipped so low that Kurt can barely hear
him. Blaine’s hand grips Kurt tight, just above the waist of the kilt with his
thumb stroking over his jacket. Kurt can feel the touch like a brand, like
there aren’t several layers of prom attire separating Blaine’s hand and Kurt’s
skin.
At first he feels embarrassed and a little objectified. Okay, maybe a lot
objectified, because Blaine looks like a starved wolf and Kurt is a piece of
meat. There’s a flush high on his cheeks throughout the night. It’s there when
they have their pictures taken by their parents, and throughout dinner with
Rachel, Mercedes, and Sam, and when they meet the other glee kids in the choir
room for a club photo. Blaine keeps his hand low on Kurt’s hip as they pass
through the gymnasium floors, and his fingers edge the waistband of the kilt as
they slow dance.
Kurt knows he should be taking in his prom as a whole - the fashion, the
decorations, the feelings of being a gay kid who brought his boyfriend to prom
- but his entire being is focused on Blaine; his words, his touch, and his
hungry stare when he thinks that Kurt isn’t looking.
It isn’t overwhelming, though. Kurt’s stomach flips pleasantly whenever Blaine
looks at him and white-hot need courses through his veins whenever they dance
close. By the end of the night, they’re both breathing heavy and Kurt is
seriously reconsidering his idea of sexy because there’s no way he can compare
the touch of their fingertips to the animalistic hunger present in Blaine’s
eyes.
Kurt echoes Blaine’s desire throughout the night because Blaine looks good in a
tux, just as he looks good in seemingly everything. Unlike most of the males in
attendance, Blaine’s suit is tailored to fit in a way that looks positively
sinful in comparison. When they get to slow dance, Kurt grasps Blaine’s hip
under his jacket and feels the taught muscles contract as they sway.
At the end of the night, Mercedes asks if they’re going to Denny’s with the
rest of the glee club. Blaine looks pained, like he’d rather do anything but.
If Kurt had less self control, he’d mirror the sentiment because he’s not sure
if he can stand another few hours of not being able to kiss Blaine until their
lips are bruised and raw. So instead of telling her yes, Kurt gives her a smile
and says, “I think Blaine and I are gonna go. It’s been a long night.”
She twiddles her fingers and walks arm-in-arm with Sam out of the gym, leaving
Kurt and Blaine alone with the few stragglers left.
“You’re not actually tired, are you?” Blaine asks, a little hopeful.
“No,” Kurt answers. He takes Blaine’s hand and leads him to the exit. “I was
giving her an excuse so we could be alone.”
Blaine’s hand tightens in Kurt’s and they stop in the middle of the hallway.
“Alone alone?”
Kurt laughs and pulls his hand out of Blaine’s grasp and walks backwards in
front of him. He says, “Perhaps,” and his boots squeak on the floor when Blaine
gives chase. They thunder down the hallway, their footsteps and laughter making
the lockers rattle, and break out of the school and into the night.
Kurt doesn’t remember much of the ride to Blaine’s house. Maybe they talked, or
maybe it was silent. Blaine holds Kurt’s hand as he drives, which makes Kurt
fantasize about all of the things Blaine can do with that hand and the places
he wants Blaine to touch. He mentally catalogues them by importance, and when
he’s done with that, he thinks about where he wants his own hands to touch
Blaine.
As soon as the front door lock clicks into place, Blaine captures Kurt by the
waist and pulls him close, closer than when they were dancing. Kurt’s body
buzzes at every point they touch, thighs, hips, chest. Their lips press
together and Kurt sucks at Blaine’s lip, teasing with his tongue until their
kiss turns heated, passionate, and all of the blood in Kurt’s brain goes
straight to his groin. He’s pleased when he finds that Blaine is getting the
same reaction, however, because when he presses Kurt up against the front door,
Kurt can feel the firm shape of Blaine’s cock against his thigh.
This is both new and very, very familiar. Two months together - and Blaine’s
usually empty house - means that they’ve lost count how many times they’ve
kissed, how many times they’ve spent hours kissing. They’ve kissed against
walls and door frames and lockers; against couches and on beds and in their
cars. Once Blaine had been sitting on a table and Kurt had fit between his legs
and kissed him so thoroughly that Blaine was laying against the surface by the
time they had come up for air.
They’d kissed so much, so often, pressed up against each other as if they were
trying to prove that two bodies can occupy the same place at the same time.
Naturally, Kurt had felt Blaine’s reaction when their kissing had become
heated, and Blaine had smirked into his neck when Kurt’s body had done the
same. There had been a little experimenting with grinding - frotting as Blaine
had called it - but it didn’t go very far, and they’d force themselves to cool
down before anything really happened. During those times, Kurt could never tell
if he felt relieved or frustrated, but now....
Now is different - so different that it makes Kurt a little dizzy and weak in
the knees. He’s going to do, well, something with Blaine tonight. He wants to
do something with Blaine tonight. He’s going to be a teenage cliche, losing his
virginity after prom, just like all of the teen romcom movies he’s watched with
Mercedes. All they need to make the trope complete is cheap alcohol and a
surprise pregnancy in a few months.
As excited as he is, he’s also a little scared. He and Blaine have never talked
about sex, not in terms of losing their virginity or anything like that. Kurt
knows what’s whispered behind his back, about him being on his hands and knees
and taking it like the homo he is, but he just can’t be the “bottom” as the
pamphlets called it. He doesn’t think he’s ready to give that part of him self
just yet - physically or emotionally.
Blaine suddenly backs off, pulling himself away just enough so Kurt can firmly
plant himself back in reality. “What’s wrong? You were like a million miles
away.”
Kurt sighs and rests his head against Blaine’s shoulder. “I apologize, I just -
I guess I’m scared.”
Strong arms wrap around him as his own cling to Blaine’s waist, looking for
comfort. They sway in the foyer like they’re back on the dance floor, only
there are no chaperons and no music. A moment passes and then Blaine says in a
soft voice, “I am too, you know. Scared, I mean. I don’t think I’m ready for
that yet, but there are other things I’d like to do with you.”
“I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready for that.”
Pressing a kiss to Kurt’s temple, Blaine disentangles himself from Kurt’s
grasp. “Kurt, anal sex isn’t the be-all, end-all for love making. It isn’t the
only way we can be intimate with each other.”
Kurt blushes because the words still make him feel awkward and immature, and a
little like he’ll be caught hearing them. Still, what Blaine says is a balm and
allows Kurt to take his boyfriend’s hand and pull him toward the staircase.
With a more lascivious tone than Kurt expects to come out of his mouth, he
asks, “So you said there are other things you’d like to do with me?”
Blaine groans low in his throat and the sound seems to reverberate down his arm
and up Kurt’s, drawing out his desire and settling it in his gut. “There are so
many things I want to do with you, I don’t know where to start.”
Stepping on the first step, Kurt looks down on Blaine and smiles coyly. “Why
don’t we start with the first thing that comes to your mind and we’ll make a
list later.” He bows down, grabs Blaine by the tie, and kisses him hungrily,
punctuating the statement with his tongue and teeth.
When they break away, Blaine’s gaze is unfocused and he’s breathing hard with
mouth open like a fish above water. “We should go to my bedroom.”
Kurt lets him go and straightens. The tie sits on Blaine’s collar off-center
and slightly crumpled, making Kurt grin. He likes that he can take Blaine, who
is always so poised and put together, and utterly destroy him with a kiss.
“Lead the way,” he says, and moves for Blaine to pass him.
Blaine’s room is just as he remembers it, small and cozy and just as comforting
as his own. He can smell the faint traces of spicy cologne, probably left
hanging in the air from getting ready for prom, as well as the earthy, warm
scent that’s just purely Blaine. There are magazines on Blaine’s desk and a
keyboard in the corner and right in the middle is Blaine’s bed, topped with a
navy blue comforter and white pillows.
It isn’t white satin sheets, rose petals, and candles, but Kurt thinks that
maybe it’s so much better.
He turns to Blaine as they’re toeing off their shoes and slipping out of their
jackets and asks, “What do you want to do?”
Blaine doesn’t answer right away. Instead he places his hands against Kurt’s
chest and shoves him gently down onto the bed. The mattress gives a cringe-
worthy squeak and they both laugh because they aren’t going to get caught, no
one even knows they’re here. Blaine kneels at Kurt’s feet and unlaces his
boots, unzips them, and slides them off Kurt’s feet like some backwards
Cinderella tale. The socks come next and Blaine rubs his calves with large,
open palms, coaxing the blood to flow normally again.
“Blaine?”
“I want to worship you.” Blaine turns his head to the side and presses a kiss
against the inside of Kurt’s knee. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted you
all night. Just standing there, in that kilt, like you had no idea what it did
to me. It would have been so easy for me to pull up the fabric and see you,
your skin and your muscles and your body that I crave so badly. Please, Kurt.
Let me worship you.”
Kurt chokes down a lung full of air but still feels like he’s asphyxiating.
Here is this amazinghotsexy boy asking for permission to touch him and taste
him like he’s made of ambrosia and his skin tastes like nectar. It makes Kurt
feel all at once powerful, protected, and most of all loved in a way that Kurt
didn’t realize he’s been craving his whole life.
“Yes.”
As soon as he’s acquiesced, Blaine begins to place sweet, chaste kisses along
Kurt’s leg, starting from the delicate part of his ankle and back to his inner
knee. He looks up for permission to go further, and once he’s given the go
ahead, Blaine inches the kilt up bit-by-bit, revealing more flesh than Kurt has
ever shown anyone. The kisses set fire to his skin, making his body thrum with
hot desire, and even after Blaine has moved on, the feeling of the kisses
remain behind. Kurt hopes they never go away.
Blaine has his eyes closed by the time he reaches mid-thigh, but they snap open
again when he encounters the hem of Kurt’s boxer-briefs. His eyes dart to the
sliver of black cotton and then to Kurt’s face. “Is this okay?”
Kurt nods and swallows thickly, suddenly nervous because this is it. Once the
scant layers of fabric between Blaine's face and Kurt's dick are gone, Blaine
is going to see him, all of him, and there will be no place left to hide.
Instead of moving forward as Kurt expects him to, Blaine bounces back onto the
balls of his feet. “Why don’t you move back. This might be easier if you’re
lying down.”
They move together on the bed with Blaine following Kurt until they're lying on
the pillows and their legs are tangled. They kiss for a few minutes, letting
their fingers fumble on buttons and fabric. When Kurt manages to get Blaine’s
shirt fully unbuttoned and the undershirt ruched under his arms, he draws away
and stares up at his boyfriend’s body.
Even with just the moonlight, Kurt can see that his boyfriend is built as
sturdy as he’d felt during their many make-out sessions. The small patch of
body hair just above Blaine’s pecs and across his abs, however, is new. Kurt
slides his fingers across it experimentally, overjoyed at the way it feels on
his fingers, coarse and very, very masculine.
“Kinda gross, isn’t it?”
The question startles Kurt because Blaine is anything but gross. Kurt pushes
Blaine onto his back and straddles his waist so that he can lean over and
whisper, “No,” against his lips. Kurt kisses him, hard and fierce like he can
suck the self-depreciation out of Blaine with his mouth alone. To Kurt, Blaine
is perfect and he can’t stand to see him think otherwise.
They roll around a bit, laughing and knocking their limbs together at odd
angles, and Blaine eventually loses his shirt completely. Kurt’s still in his
kilt, but his dress shirt has been discarded already, cast to the floor
somewhere. He manages to get Blaine’s pants unbuttoned but not unzipped, but he
can't even care because they're rutting together, harder than they’ve
previously dared, and moaning freely in a way they’ve never been able to
before.
“Wait,” Blaine says against his mouth. “I want to - hold on, stop. I want to
try something, okay?”
“Okay,” Kurt says and lies flat on his back when Blaine shoves gently at his
shoulder.
He's curious as to what Blaine has planned and watches as Blaine sits up and
moves to the foot of the bed. He's even more curious when Blaine puts his knees
between Kurt's ankles and can't help shivering with anticipation when Blaine's
hands slide from his feet to the edge of the kilt.
“So like I said earlier, this kilt has been driving me crazy all night,” Blaine
says as he plays with the hem. “I kinda kept picturing myself under the fabric,
sucking your cock.”
Even though Blaine says it sheepishly and in the least sexy tone ever, all of
Kurt's blood rushes to his cock, making it pulse even harder than before. He
doesn't know what he says to Blaine just then, only that his boyfriend's eyes
light up like he's just been told that Christmas and his birthday are arriving
early. Whatever he's said, it's some kind of permission because Blaine doesn’t
waste any time.
Blaine bends at once to kiss Kurt’s inner thighs, echoing his earlier
ministrations but this time adding in gentle nips and sucks and licks to drive
Kurt near to whimpering. When he reaches Kurt’s boxer-briefs, he doesn’t wait
for a go-ahead; he just pulls them down, letting Kurt’s cock spring up against
the fabric of his kilt.
“Fuck me, Kurt,” Blaine whispers as he stares at Kurt, at all of him. Kurt
wants to joke or say something in response, maybe a quick all in due time, but
he can’t seem to get his mouth to move or his tongue to work.
Blaine’s fingers slide up the shaft and curl around its length, holding his
cock so reverently that Kurt can’t help but flush. It isn’t larger or thicker
than what he’s read is average and the circumcision scar stands out in bright
contrast even in the moonlight, but Blaine is treating it like it’s the most
beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
Instead of immediately mouthing at Kurt’s cock like he expects, Blaine instead
ducks his head and presses his nose and mouth against Kurt’s groin to breathe
in his musk. Each breath tickles Kurt's neatly trimmed pubic hair and chills
his skin, but when Blaine moves away, Kurt finds himself missing Blaine's
weight pressed firmly against his pubic bone and the knowledge that the smell
of Kurt’s sex turns Blaine on.
They look at each other for several long moments, and Kurt can see Blaine’s
nervousness in his eyes. He wishes he could say something reassuring, but Kurt
is just as nervous as Blaine is. Instead, he does the next best thing by
seeking out Blaine’s free hand at his hip. They smile at each other, clutching
at each other's fingers, and Kurt has no warning when Blaine opens his mouth to
slide over Kurt’s erection.
Kurt’s first thought is that he’s being swallowed whole and that the world is
crashing down around him. His ears ring with the sound of his own shouts and
he’s not entirely sure what it means to breathe anymore. Blaine pulls off
almost immediately, coughing and clearing his throat, and Kurt thinks that he
might have taken too much too fast because he looks slightly red.
He asks, “Are you okay?” and Blaine nods.
When Blaine tries a second time, though, he slows down and paces himself.
Instead of the immediate shock of being taken all at once, Kurt gets Blaine
concentrating on just the crown. Blaine's lips create a suction and his tongue
teases under the ridge and against the minuscule expanse of skin that is the
most sensitive of all. Kurt’s hips bounce upward, seemingly of their own
accord, and Blaine seems to take that as a sign to take him further. His hand
comes up to grip Kurt's cock as he sucks back, cheeks hollowing out in his
effort. Kurt_thinks_he_could_come_from_the_view_alone,_with_Blaine’s_hair
sticking_up_at_odd_ends_and_his_perfect_Cupid’s_bow_lips_stretched_around
Kurt’s_cock,_but_he_holds_himself_back_as_much_has_he_can,_mostly_because_he
wants_to_make_this_feeling_-_this_night_-_last_forever.
Blaine quickly finds his pacing and the limits of his ability to take Kurt into
his mouth. Kurt doesn’t mind; Blaine’s attempt at deep-throating was kind of
intense and he likes the sensation of Blaine griping him firmly at the base. He
lets Blaine know when he likes something with his moans and whimpers, and
hisses when Blaine once forgets himself and a tooth brushes against sensitive
skin. It isn’t enough pressure to hurt, but it scares Kurt into nearly jerking
out of Blaine’s grasp. They’re more careful after that.
Before long, Kurt feels his orgasm inching closer and closer. It starts in his
feet; makes his toes curl and the muscles of his calves tense. Then it works
it’s way up his body, making every cell thrum with excitement. He gasps out
Blaine’s name, trying to warn him, but Blaine doesn’t move. Instead, he lets
Kurt’s cock rest on his tongue and sucks the tip as his hand pumps along the
length. Kurt orgasm is intense and overwhelming, and his vision whites out for
several moments before he comes back into himself. The bed bounces as Blaine
moves around and Kurt wishes he had the energy to laugh when he hears Blaine
muffle his coughing into a towel.
Finally, Blaine crawls onto the bed next to Kurt and Kurt is able to see his
face and they’re both smiling. Blaine’s lips are bright red and chapped and his
eyes are watering from his coughing fit, but he’s happy and Kurt’s happy so
Kurt kisses him. Blaine tastes different, salty and a little bitter. The
thought of tasting himself on his boyfriend - on his lover’s lips is undeniably
sexy. That he's changed something as basic about Blaine as his taste makes Kurt
feel good.
Kurt pushes Blaine onto his back and asks, “What can I do for you?”
Blaine’s eyes close and his head tips back. “Please touch me.”
They quickly, finally remove Blaine’s pants and underwear, and Kurt shimmies
out of his kilt. Kurt lies against Blaine’s side and runs his hand once again
through the thatch of hair with which he’s quickly becoming obsessed.
“Kurt, please” Blaine begs.
Kurt moves them so that they’re both lying on their sides and kisses Blaine
slowly. His hand wraps around Blaine’s cock and the feel and weight of it in
his grasp makes him moan. Blaine echoes the sound as Kurt’s hand pumps, and his
hips push into the ring of Kurt’s fingers when Blaine deems his speed too slow.
It takes a little while, and a few simple directions, but Kurt finally finds
the rhythm that Blaine likes.
When Blaine is close, his mouth slackens and Kurt watches him with lidded eyes,
wanting to see and hear and feel his boyfriend’s orgasm for the first time.
Curiously, Blaine’s orgasm is almost silent, just a sharp gasp before Kurt’s
fist is slick with cum. When he’s finished, Blaine sighs heavily and sags into
the mattress, boneless and sated.
Re-energized, but barely, Kurt rolls off of the bed in search of the towel
Blaine used to spit Kurt’s cum into. He wipes his hands and folds the towel
over to find a clean spot to wipe down Blaine’s torso.
“You got a spot on your duvet,” he says after throwing the soiled towel into
Blaine’s laundry basket.
Blaine grunts and pushes the duvet off the bed with his feet. “I’ll wash it in
the morning. Come to bed.”
The simplicity and domesticity of the request makes Kurt’s heart sing and he
wants nothing more than to accept it. He finds his phone before climbing back
into bed, though, and shoots off a few texts - one to his father telling him
that he’s staying at Mercedes house for the night, and one each to Finn and
Mercedes requesting that they keep mum about where he really is. The plan has a
high risk of failure, but Kurt doesn’t care. His dad might see right through
his lie, or maybe Finn will let it slip that he isn’t with Mercedes, or maybe
Kurt will forget himself and give away more than he’s willing. It doesn’t
matter in that moment, however, because he has Blaine curled up at his side,
fast asleep, and Kurt is happy.
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