
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/261527.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Glee
  Relationship:
      Blaine_Anderson/Kurt_Hummel
  Character:
      Kurt_Hummel, Blaine_Anderson
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, Fingering, Anal_Sex, Switching, blowjob, Spoilers
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-10-06 Words: 6438
****** we break the quiet and learn to wear each other well ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Blaine returns to the bar and he and Kurt get a hotel room to sleep
     off their alcohol. MAJOR SPOILERS FOR 3x05!
After half an hour has passed and Blaine still hasn’t returned from storming
off in a drunken tantrum, Kurt weighs his options. He doesn’t have Blaine’s
keys and even if he did, he wouldn’t leave Blaine without a way to get home.
Even though they had a fight, Kurt would never do that to him. He could call
his dad for a ride but Kurt’s pretty sure he’d be grounded for eternity if he
had to explain to his dad that he’d been drinking with Blaine at a gay club.
Asking anyone else for a ride is out as well–New Directions is full of the
biggest gossips in school and even if they didn’t mean for it to get out,
there’s no doubt that he and Blaine would get shit from bullies about being at
the gay club later.
So his only option is to wait until Blaine shows up or wait until sunrise. He
stretches out in the back seat and adjusts his pants, still aching but no
longer desperately hard. This isn’t how the night is supposed to go at all.
For weeks now Kurt had been trying to get Blaine to notice that he was ready
for sex but it hadn’t been going so well. His wardrobe had gotten tighter and
more immodest until his dad put his foot down. Kurt had left all of the
pamphlets and printed out information on sex and STIs out on his desk but
Blaine hadn’t even noticed. He’d thought that the innate sexuality of a gay
club would help Blaine get the idea, the sensuality of writhing bodies moving
together. It should have made Kurt look older and more mature, ready for the
physical side of their relationship. Apparently it had, because Blaine had
finally picked up on his want.
The problem was that Blaine wasn’t supposed to have gotten so wasted, and
Sebastian shouldn’t have hit on Blaine, and Kurt definitely shouldn’t have hit
Sebastian. Then they were making out in the car and Blaine wanted to go further
right then and there but Kurt wanted it to be special, and drunk in the back
seat of a car wasn’t special.
Hopefully Blaine will get back soon, Kurt thinks. Kurt doesn’t want to sleep in
a cold car by himself and he doesn’t want Blaine wandering around and getting
hurt. They should have just talked about it but how does one talk to their
boyfriend about something that was once a taboo subject? It’d end up being
painful and awkward and Kurt wants to run away at the mere thought of the
stilted conversation they’d surely have. That’s why Kurt had tried to seduce
Blaine into it.
Kurt falls asleep fitfully, curled toward the back rest and scrunched up. The
seats are hard and he’s too tall to sleep in the back seat of a cold car, but
it’s better than nothing.
A knocking on the glass above his head makes him jump into wakefulness. It’s
too dark out to see the face just past the window, but it looks menacing in his
minds eye. Perhaps sleeping in a car in the wrong part of town was a bad idea.
His mind spins with thoughts of homosexual thugs and glitter–covered turf wars
as he gropes around for his cellphone. If he could just call 911, then maybe—
Another sharp rap on the window. “Kurt, fuckin’ Christ. Open the door.”
Blaine.
Kurt sits up and unlocks the door immediately, pushing himself to the other
side of the car as Blaine slips inside. “Where were you?” Kurt asks. His tone
falls just short of chiding, and instead he sounds like a puppy that’s been
kept waiting for it’s master. Hot shame at his neediness floods his body.
“Took a walk to sober up,” Blaine says with a shrug. He’s so far away, hands on
his knees as he stares at the passenger seat in front of him. Kurt wants
nothing more than to pull Blaine in his lap, tell him he’s sorry with his lips
and teeth and tongue and fingers. “Didn’t help much. Just got lost and had to
try to find my way back.”
There’s a moment where they’re both quiet and the tension nearly chokes Kurt.
He reaches out and gently puts his fingers on top of his boyfriend’s hand. It
feels as though at any moment they’ll explode and never find the pieces.
“Blaine….”
Blaine’s hand turns over and grips Kurt’s tight, as if he’s afraid he’ll fall
from a cliff if he lets go.
Encouraged by Blaine’s touch, Kurt slides over in the seat and rests his head
on his shoulder. “Blaine, let’s go home. I’m tired and you’re drunk and I just
really, really want to cuddle and sleep this night away.”
“We are not driving tonight,” Blaine says, over enunciating each syllable and
consonant.
Kurt opens his mouth to protest sleeping in the car when they can drive ten
minutes back to their homes but Blaine explains: “I found a hotel as I was
walking back. It’s not the Plaza like you deserve, but we should go. Sleep, I
mean. We don’t have to anything if you don’t want to.”
“I do want to.” Kurt bites his lips when Blaine whips his head around to stare
at him in confusion. “I want to do everything with you–when we’re ready. When
we have sex for the first time, I don’t want us drunk or fighting or in the
back of a car in some desolate part of town. I want it to be special because I
love you so much that I have to show you or I’ll explode.”
Blaine’s expression melts into something tender, something that Kurt realizes
he hasn’t seen much of lately. All of the hidden resentment over West Side
Story and the passive–aggression from their duets assignment and Kurt’s
annoyance over that Sebastian guy hadn’t torn them apart, but it had definitely
put a damper on their relationship. It’s been a long month.
Kurt cups Blaine’s face tenderly and brings their foreheads together. “I love
you.”
“I love you, too.”
They kiss sweetly and chastely like it’s the first time. Blaine’s eyes crinkle
with laughter and Kurt knows that they’re okay. They’ll be okay because they’re
strong, and nothing can break them. Kurt silently vows to tell Blaine what he’s
feeling because he doesn’t want this to happen ever again.
Blaine ushers them in the direction of the hotel, eventually led by his phone’s
GPS when they get turned around. The city’s asleep already and they’re the only
two souls in this purgatory making a sound. Blaine shuffles, legs still too
drunk to be sure of the ground beneath them, and Kurt pulls him along gently.
The air is crisp with the scent of autumn and they start to talk about the
things that they’ve been keeping from each other.
Mostly they talk about sex, but it’s difficult at first. Kurt begins by
admitting that he’s been thinking about it for months, but hadn’t known how to
tell Blaine. Blaine admits that it’s been longer than that for him. Shyly,
afraid of being judged, they tell each other simple fantasies–wanting to be
touched by the other, wanting to make the other come. Kurt can feel himself
flush more with desire than with embarrassment when Blaine tells him about how
desperately he wants Kurt’s lips wrapped around his cock.
It takes them a few blocks to say that word: cock. Once they do, they can’t
stop. Kurt feels more free to admit his desires and fears. They discuss what
they want to do and what they expect. When it’s clear that they’re on the same
page, they stand in the middle of the road and kiss under the street light.
When they reach the hotel, Kurt uses his fake ID to buy a room and they fall
into bed without a thought. Kurt helps Blaine out of his shirt and pants before
stripping to his own briefs. He thrills at all of the exposed skin, lets his
hands skim down the length of Blaine’s torso just because he can. Blaine
certainly doesn’t seem to mind, especially when his own fingers dance along
Kurt’s ribs and he makes a pleased hum at finding the sparse hair just below
Kurt’s navel.
It’s the least clothed they’ve ever been with each other, including that trip
to the lake in the summer where Kurt spent most of his time in the shade trying
not to ogle his boyfriend. They’re too tired to have sex but everything still
feels hyper–intimate. Their legs tangle together and Blaine flings an arm over
Kurt’s chest. They sleep close, clinging to each other with all their might,
and it’s the most perfect feeling in the world.
 
Kurt wakes first, which is to be expected. The last time Blaine got this
drunk–another disastrous night that Kurt wants to wipe from his memory–he had
been difficult to rouse. While last night was almost worse than watching Blaine
and Rachel make out, the morning after is sweeter. Kurt isn’t gripped with the
tight dread that Blaine will reject him; instead, hope blooms low in his belly.
Things can only get better from here.
After watching his boyfriend snore softly for a few minutes, Kurt presses a
kiss to Blaine’s forehead and rolls out of bed. His pants are on the floor in a
crumpled, undignified heap but Kurt only feels uncharacteristic apathy about
being seen in wrinkled jeans. The stress he usually feels over looking pristine
seems unnecessary after waking up curled next to his boyfriend. So instead of
trying to tug the creases away, he puts on his jeans and undershirt, grabs the
key card, and searches the hotel for a vending machine and maybe a cup of
coffee.
He returns to the room with a aspirin and bottled water. The coffee at the
front desk looked like mud, and they can go for breakfast once Blaine is awake
enough to walk back to the car. When Kurt nears the bed he finds Blaine already
awake and checking his phone through bleary, half-lidded eyes.
“Morning,” he whispers, well aware of how loud his voice must sound to his
hungover boyfriend, and sets the packet of one dose aspirin into Blaine’s hand.
Blaine swallows them dry and washes them down with the water Kurt offers him.
Blaine pulls Kurt into bed once he’s finished. “Morning, beautiful.”
Voice rough from the previous night, he asks Kurt to tell him everything that
happened; that he remembers after he started walking and some of what happened
in the car. It hurts Kurt to tell Blaine about Karofsky and Sebastian, about
going too far and fighting. Blaine curls into him and says sorry so many times
that it ceases to sound like a word to Kurt’s ears.
“Don’t be sorry,” Kurt tells him when Blaine’s lips pull his face into a
miserable frown. “Shh, I’m not mad. I should have just told you what I wanted
instead of trying to seduce you into it.” He kisses Blaine’s mouth, licking
tentatively until Blaine opens his lips.
They kiss slowly–deeply-- like they have forever in this bed. It’s the
antithesis of their kisses the night prior, not at all frenzied or rushed like
they’re going to get caught. They could spend their morning like this without
going any further. However–
Kurt’s fingers run along Blaine’s jaw, followed by wet kisses up and down his
neck. The scruff of Blaine’s facial hair scratches his lips in the most
delicious way. Pushing Blaine onto his back, Kurt climbs over him, straddling
his legs so that their hips are pressed tightly together, and rocks
experimentally. His face breaks into a delighted grin when Blaine responds with
a moan instead of pushing him away. It’s hard to forget that Blaine has every
right to reject him, too.
“I was thinking,” Kurt says between kisses. “If you’re still interested, we
could—”
Blaine’s eyes widen comically before he pulls Kurt down into a molten kiss that
sets fire to the room. He cants his hips up as if to make his point, giving
just enough pressure to Kurt’s cock to make him groan. “Very, very interested.”
Kurt has condoms he stole from Finn’s room stashed in his wallet, and Blaine
admits to buying out the single–use packets of lube from 24–hour mart down the
road from his house before they hit the club. Laughter bubbles out of their
mouths. They’d both been expecting it but then when the time came, the timing
hadn’t been right.
Kurt peels his jeans off for a second time with Blaine’s lustful eyes on him.
It feels a little awkward but that’s almost comforting. If it hadn’t been
awkward, if Blaine didn’t look as nervous and excited as he did, Kurt would
probably freak out.
They take the last of their clothes off and just stare at each other,
everywhere from neck to chest to cock. Kurt should probably feel exposed or
vulnerable, but he doesn’t and that thrills him more than Blaine’s own
nakedness. That he’s already so comfortable just makes him more excited for
what’s to come.
He takes in the sight in front of him. Blaine’s cock looks like– well, it looks
like a cock, actually. It’s no different than Kurt’s own. At the same time, it
still seems completely foreign because it isn’t his and Kurt wants to know
every ridge and vein. Blaine’s cock is hard and ready for him and Kurt wants to
wrap his handlipsbody around the crown and suck the marrow out of Blaine’s
bones.
So he does. Kurt pushes Blaine down onto the mattress and kisses down his
chest, over his abs to bite Blaine’s hips, and then takes a tentative lick of
Blaine’s cock. It tastes good, like the salt of Kurt’s upper lip after he’s
finished an hour of yoga, like skin and sweat and this deeper note of Blaine.
He licks up the shaft to gather all of the taste, tongues the slit to catch the
bitterness there.
Blaine is wild, pulling at the bedding below him. He’s as vocal as when he
sings, mono-syllabic sounds and words bouncing around the high walls. Kurt
sucks the crown into his mouth and Blaine keens high and loud. For a terrifying
second, Kurt wonders how thick the walls are and if they have neighbors who are
listening in. Then Blaine begs for more, for Kurt to suck him harder, and
thoughts of disturbing the hotel’s other guests vanish from his mind.
Kurt can’t take him in as far as he wants to, as far as he needs to. Blaine’s a
lot bigger in his mouth than he’d expected, makes his lips stretch until he
can’t open them any further. It should hurt, it should feel awkward and
foreign, but it doesn’t. All Kurt can think of is how badly he’s been craving
this for months and now he’s getting his fill like a starved man.
He uses a packet of lube and his hand to pump Blaine’s cock as he hollows out
his cheeks, tongues the ridge just below the head. The press of his tongue
makes his boyfriend twitch and writhe. So Kurt does it again and again until he
has to hold down Blaine’s hips to stop them from arching up from the bed. He
moves on to suckle kisses along the thick vein on the shaft but makes a mental
note about just how much Blaine enjoys that.
Blaine babbles, words slurring worse than they had the night before. Kurt’s
just getting into a good rhythm, sucking for everything he’s worth, when Blaine
pushes him off. His eyes are wild and bright, his chest is heaving like he
can’t get enough air. Blaine looks perfectly wrecked and Kurt silently crows
with delight that he did that; he made Blaine close to coming.
“Fuck,” Blaine says while Kurt watches him scrub his face with his hands,
wiping away the sweat at his brow. His hair has come loose from it’s gel so
Blaine runs his fingers through it as he pants hard and tries to catch his
breath. “That was a lot more intense than I’d expected. Shit.”
“It was good though?” Kurt’s pretty sure it was, but he still wants to hear
Blaine say it.
Grinning at him, Blaine pulls Kurt up into a biting kiss, licking into his
mouth like he can taste himself on Kurt’s tongue. “So good,” he says against
Kurt’s lips. “I have no basis of comparison, but you give the best blowjobs
ever. Should I be jealous?”
“I may have practiced on a banana or two,” Kurt admits with a laugh as he falls
to the bed beside him.
“Well, I’ll be sure to give the bananas on your kitchen table the stink eye the
next time I’m over.” Blaine giggles as well before wrapping his body around
Kurt and grinding his cock against Kurt’s hip until they’re panting and
groaning into each other’s mouth.
“We should do that again just so we’re sure it wasn’t beginners luck.”
Blaine hums happily and Kurt can feel the smile against his jaw. “I have a much
better idea.”
“Yeah?” Kurt answers breathlessly when the skin of his neck is sucked between
Blaine’s lips.
“Mm, yeah,” Blaine says as he takes Kurt’s hand and places it against the cleft
of his ass. “I know that virginity means something different to everyone. We
could just jerk each other off and call it good, but I want to give you
everything I have. I want you to fuck me.”
Kurt doesn’t need to be told twice. He rolls Blaine over onto his stomach and
lifts his hips with unpracticed movements, arms seemingly too gawky for the
task. It’s awkward and a little embarrassing to see Blaine so vulnerable and
open and willing, but also so intimate and precious. He’s certain that his
heart will burst out of his chest with love before they can even begin.
Blaine wiggles his ass when Kurt stares too long, and they both laugh when Kurt
swats playfully at his thigh. Kurt had expected tension and hesitation between
them but feels none.
It’s a little awkward as Kurt tries to apply the things he’s read to reality.
The lubricant threatens to slide off his fingers before he can rub it against
Blaine’s hole, and he’s not prepared for the lust he feels when he presses
inside. Kurt has to bite at Blaine’s hip to drown his moans when Blaine
tightens around his finger.
Watching Blaine fuck himself onto Kurt’s hand is better than any fantasy Kurt’s
ever dreamed of. Kurt barely has to move as Blaine rocks his body forward and
back to get what he needs. The glistening skin around his fingers pulls, and
Blaine lets him know with desperate whines just how good that feels. The tight
grip of Blaine’s hole around him is so intense that he’s afraid of losing
control, coming before he’s even gotten his cock inside. Even though Blaine
begs him to rush, to fuck him please now, Kurt grasps tight at the scrap of
willpower he still possesses. He’s going to get this right, he’s going to make
it feel good for Blaine.
He opens Blaine up with three fingers, listening as Blaine helplessly begs for
Kurt’s cock. “Please, please Kurt,” he whines. “I can’t wait any longer. I
don’t care if it hurts.”
Kurt crowds up along Blaine’s back and kisses his neck. “I can’t. I can’t. I
would never forgive myself if I hurt you.”
Blaine hauls upwards until they are both kneeling on lust–addled limbs, his
back pressed against Kurt’s shoulders. Kurt’s hand has stilled but Blaine
periodically tenses around him, his body begging for more. Blaine leans his
head back on Kurt’s shoulder and reaches between them to stroke Kurt’s cock.
“You could never hurt me.”
Even with the weak grip Blaine has on him, it’s too much. Kurt feels like he
could come at any moment. Panting a muffled, “Okay, okay,” across Blaine’s
back, his fingers slip out with a slick sound and grapples for the box of
condoms on the bed next to him.
Once everything is ready and slick, Kurt begins to shake with nerves. His hands
slip on Blaine’s hips so he pulls back and sits on his haunches, willing
himself to relax. The gravity of this moment between them seems like a chasm
that Kurt’s not sure if he has the ability to cross now, no matter how much he
wants to. What if it ruins everything? Should they go back to holding hands and
chaste kissing or is it too late to forget the sounds Blaine makes when he’s
fucking himself on Kurt’s fingers?
Blaine looks over his shoulder, eyebrows knit in confusion. “Kurt?”
“I’m nervous,” Kurt admits in a small voice, wringing his fingers together
before he remembers that they’re still covered in a thin layer of lubricant. As
he wipes his hand on the duvet, Kurt knows he must look ridiculous. Cock stiff
and skin flushed and body buzzing with a confusing mix of anxiety and lust.
“Kurt,” Blaine murmurs as he turns and crawls toward Kurt. He cups Kurt’s jaw
and brushes his thumb over his cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you
don’t want to.”
“I do want to, though,” he says. “It’s just— It’s a huge step, you know? I know
I’m ready—we’re ready—but that doesn’t make it less scary.”
“I’m scared, too.” Blaine presses a kiss to Kurt’s lips, his breath wavering
with nerves. Blaine’s anxiety is somehow reassuring to Kurt, as if it’s a
gentle reminder that they’re both new at this. If they mess up, they’ll get
through it. They are going to be fine.
Blaine lies down and shoves a pillow under his hips. Once he’s situated, he
reaches out to Kurt and pulls him between his legs. “This way; I want to see
you.”
Kurt lines his cock up to Blaine’s hole and pauses to watch his boyfriend. This
is his last time seeing Blaine, the virgin. This is the last time he is Kurt,
the virgin.
He pushes in and Blaine is tight and way, way too much around him. His
hand–Blaine’s hand–is no comparison to the slick heat of Blaine’s body. Kurt
chokes back a whimper and rests his head on Blaine’s shoulder.
“Tell me when I can move,” Kurt manages to whisper with barely any air in his
lungs. He can’t remember to breathe, he can’t remember to think. He wants
nothing more than to move, soak up the friction of Blaine’s body and come like
a firecracker. He’s never wanted anything more in his life. “Please.”
“Yes.” Blaine’s words come out as a needy hiss. “Godyesmove.”
Kurt moves. Their skin slides together in a way that’s just too, too much for
him to handle. While Blaine may not be made of glass, Kurt wasn’t exaggerating
when he said that he didn’t want to hurt him even unintentionally. It would
kill him to see Blaine in pain because of him.
Blaine doesn’t tell him to stop. He throws his head back and groans, wraps his
arms around Kurt’s shoulders so that they’re pressed closer together. Kurt had
thought that he could never get so close to a person that he’d lose track of
where he ends and they begin, but Blaine’s proving him wrong. He feels like he
could nestle right into Blaine’s pores until they live symbiotically for the
rest of their lives. Perhaps they’ve already reached that point.
The sound of blood rushing through Kurt’s ears adds white noise to the
cacophony of moans and panting, the soft smack of skin on skin. His sings with
Blaine, like a symphony of vibrations in each cell and molecule that harmonize
perfectly. He never wants to stop this but—
He’s going to come too soon. He can feel the tightness in his muscles, the way
time seems to be speeding up to the sharp point of orgasm. They’ve only been
going for a few minutes, and Kurt already feels the tense, urgent need to come
settle at the base of his spine. He needs to cool off, needs to make sure this
lasts as long as possible.
A pathetic whimper escapes Blaine’s lips when Kurt pulls out. His voice is
thick with lust but his confusion is evident. “Wha-- why did you stop?”
Kurt flops down next to Blaine, breathing too heavily to speak. When he looks
over at Blaine, his heart aches at the sight of Blaine’s broken expression. He
can only assume that Blaine is thinking the worse and fuck, if he could focus
on something other than not coming, he could just explain. He rolls over and
kisses Blaine squarely on the lips, trying to reassure his boyfriend with the
slick slide of their mouths. Teeth clack together and Kurt’s tongue licks into
Blaine mouth until he manages to draw out a moan.
Soon the urgency dies down, both in their kissing and in Kurt’s need to come.
He’s still painfully hard, but not enough that a mild gust of wind will send
him into a tailspin. At the same time, Blaine seems comforted by Kurt’s touch
and responds just as softly. They spend long moments just making out and Kurt’s
thankful that Blaine’s wandering hands don’t travel down further than his
navel.
Blaine pulls away from the kiss but rests his forehead against Kurt’s, his hand
resting gently on Kurt’s waist. “So mind telling me why we stopped?”
Embarrassment stains Kurt’s cheeks pink. “I was about to come,” he mumbles.
“I really wouldn’t have minded, you know,” Blaine says with an affectionate
chuckle. “Orgasms are kind of the point of sex.”
Kurt laughs as well, rolling onto his back to let the air conditioned room cool
down his too–hot skin. He wipes the perspiration from his brow and breathes,
searching for the words to really explain. Blaine’s fingers rub swirls and
patterns on Kurt’s chest, He drags his nails experimentally over Kurt’s sides
until he twitches away.
“No, stop!” Kurt says when Blaine tries to attack his side. He giggles and
kicks his feet ineffectually, scrabbling for Blaine’s hands but only managing
to tangle the both of them in the bed sheets. Once he manages to pin Blaine to
the bed, Kurt explains, “I just want this to last. I don’t want our first time
to be over in five minutes.”
Despite Kurt’s grasp on his wrists, Blaine pushes himself up and presses his
lips to Kurt’s mouth, only pulling away when Kurt lets go of his arms. He looks
straight into Kurt’s eyes and says, “We have the rest of forever to make it
last.”
Kurt makes an involuntary coo of happiness. For a boy who admitted that he was
poor at romance, Blaine certainly knows exactly the right things to say.
Blaine lays along Kurt’s side and stares down at him. “So I was thinking,” he
says in a tone that indicates Kurt should be wary of his plan. “Remember how I
said I wanted to be thorough?”
Kurt hesitates for a moment before answering. “I do recall that, yes. What do
you have in mind?”
Blaine’s hand, which had previously rested on his chest, trails down toward
Kurt’s navel. His skin shivers with goose bumps as those fingers brush down
past his cock and between his legs, resting just short of his hole. “How
thorough are you willing to be?”
Kurt’s eyes slip shut and his breath hitches as Blaine massages his fingers
into the flesh just behind Kurt’s balls, teasing but not quite close to where
Kurt really wants him. Although he’s touched himself many times in the past
months, it was nothing like having Blaine touching him there. “Yes.”
The finger that had been stroking against his perineum moves the last few
centimeters to Kurt’s hole. The dry drag of skin against sensitive skin makes
Kurt hiss, the overwhelming friction driving him crazy. Blaine doesn’t push in,
just circles his finger tip over the tight flesh until Kurt relaxes and pants
hotly in Blaine’s ear. He then takes his hand away and removes the used condom
from Kurt’s cock and tosses it on the bedside table.
The lube that Blaine had bought is still piled high on the bed, used packets
leaking onto the duvet. Blaine blindly grabs a few before settling back along
Kurt’s side. He takes Kurt’s knee and brings his leg up so that it’s hooked
around Blaine’s thigh.
Kurt, likewise, bends his other knee so that he’s spread wide with everything
that he is on display for the dust motes and the ghosts to see. He almost
wishes for a full–length mirror on the other side of the bed. He wants to see
himself laid bare and wants to watch Blaine as he squeezes lubricant out on his
fingers, reaches down between Kurt’s thighs, and circles his hole with two
slick digits.
There’s a brief flash of ohgodcold before the friction between their skin heats
up the gel. Blaine caresses him until he relaxes, until he begs for Blaine’s
finger to push in and take everything that Kurt is offering. He goes slowly and
Kurt can feel both rings of muscles let him in. It’s just as strange as Kurt’s
own fingers at first, but it’s also better. That touch is Blaine’s touch and
that finger is Blaine’s finger. When Kurt’s relaxed as much as he thinks he can
go, he gives Blaine a nod.
Blaine works him over slowly, fucking Kurt with one finger until his hole is
slick enough for two. Two fingers is more than Kurt’s been able to achieve and
the low burn from the stretch is new, but not as bad as his reading had
promised. There is a copious amount of lube—enough to slide down Kurt’s crack
and pool on the bed beneath him–and Blaine’s reassurances as he opens him up
that make Kurt feel like he can handle anything Blaine gives him..
“You feel so good around my fingers, Kurt,” Blaine admits. Kurt’s breathing
comes in short puffs when Blaine pushes a third finger along with the other
two.
While it’s still a stretch, three fingers feels wonderful. Blaine fills him up
in the most delicious way, making Kurt moan and thrash. Kurt lifts his leg and
presses his knee to his chest. It gives Blaine more room to move, lets him fuck
his fingers in deeper. Kurt feels like he’s desperate for Blaine’s cock in him
and now knows why Blaine had begged before Kurt was sure that he was ready.
“Fuck, Blaine,” Kurt says before grasping his cock. A dribble of precome slides
out as he squeezes the base. He could come just from Blaine’s fingers, but he
wants Blaine’s cock instead. “I need it.”
“Need what?”
Kurt groans in frustration. “Come on, Blaine. Don’t make me beg.” Though his
eyes are closed, Kurt can picture the cocky smirk playing on his boyfriend’s
lips.
“Say it,” Blaine says with a voice dripping with so much smugness that Kurt
wants to slap it off of him.
He considers not saying it, waiting until Blaine is begging for it. Kurt could
play dirty, jerk Blaine off until he whimpered and pleaded for Kurt’s body.
Unfortunately, Blaine decides in that moment to start fingering him roughly,
crooking his fingers and dragging against a spot that makes Kurt forget his own
name. “Fuck! Blaine, god. Fuck me. Please fuck me.”
Kurt’s never let anyone hear him sound so desperate; not his dad nor Finn nor
Rachel. He’s glad it’s Blaine who makes him beg and he’s glad it’s in this
moment and he’s glad it’s for Blaine’s cock. He will gladly turn into a cheap
whore for Blaine’s cock.
Blaine removes his fingers, leaving Kurt feeling empty and truly needy. He
rolls to his side, knees bent, when Blaine pushes him gently, as boneless as a
rag doll. Kurt can hear a condom wrapper being torn open and the rubber being
rolled onto Blaine’s cock before he aligns himself with Kurt. They’re spooned
together like lovers and Blaine’s cock is pressed up against his hole, ready to
push inside.
There’s a brief moment where Kurt panics. Blaine isn’t small. Is he really
prepared enough to take all of Blaine in? He forces himself to relax just as
Blaine slides in, gritting his teeth when the stretch feels like a lot more
than three fingers.
“Breathe, Kurt,” Blaine reminds him, but doesn’t pause for which Kurt is
thankful. He can take it if Blaine says he can.
Kurt grabs his dick and strokes it. The pleasure doesn’t outweigh the burn, but
it gives him something else to focus on. Blaine’s cock fills him up more than
in any of Kurt’s fantasies, his entire body seeming to open for Blaine until
he’s choking from the sensation. He can feel the intensity from the tips of his
toes all the way up to just behind his eyelids.
Just when Kurt thinks that there can’t possibly be more than that, Blaine pulls
out a little, the slide just enough to make Kurt’s eyes roll into the back of
his head. Though there’s a dull burn, Kurt feels no real pain. Kurt would argue
that it just feels good, especially when Blaine pulls back before slamming in
again.
It’s nothing like Kurt’s ever thought he’d experience in hislife. This is sex;
carnal and wild, happily giving so much that he has nothing left of himself
afterward. What’s more, Blaine’s giving right back until there’s nothing left
of him as well. Kurt vaguely recalls his father telling him that sex was a way
to connect with someone. He’s connecting with Blaine, gluing himself right to
Blaine’s soul, but it doesn’t scare him. Being with Blaine is right.
Blaine wraps one arm around Kurt’s chest and the other holds onto his hip,
keeping him in place when his thrusts are just a little too powerful. When he
hefts Kurt up the bed just an inch and snaps his hips, Blaine’s cock hits that
spot that had been teased earlier. It makes Kurt babble, a string of
incoherencies that Blaine seems to understand, because he answers with whispers
of yes yes yes in Kurt’s ear.
The position gives Blaine a free hand to stroke Kurt’s cock, fingers wrapped
tightly under the head as he twists in time with the motion of his hips. It’s
not enough. Kurt needs more, greedy for the orgasm he’d denied himself before.
His hand covers Blaine’s and guides it down the shaft with the same pressure
and speed that makes him come every time.
Kurt usually grits his teeth when his orgasm barrels into him, holds his breath
for the inevitable feeling of unadulterated nirvana afterward. He’d never been
a moaner—not with a dad who didn’t always knock and a lock that could be easily
jimmied open. His dad would more than likely run to his rescue at any strange
sounds coming from his bedroom rather than giving him his privacy. The thought
that he could be loud during sex never occurred to him until now.
He almost wishes he had a gag to stop the loud, long groan as he spills over
Blaine’s hand. It echoes in his ears and makes his ribs ache from the exertion
of trying to hold it in. Kurt’s orgasm is unequivocally the best he’s ever had,
though it is perhaps unfair to base it on years of masturbation. It makes him
tense and shiver until he’s boneless, utterly weightless.
Blaine still rocks into him even as Kurt’s body relaxes into the bed, thrusts
shallow and quick. Kurt wipes his hand off on the bed sheet and reaches back to
tangle his fingers in Blaine’s hair. He wants to say something cliché here,
like come for me or let go, but the words stick like taffy to the roof of his
mouth and make his tongue heavy. Sex has made him forget how to speak.
When Blaine comes, he does so with his nose pressed to the nape of Kurt’s neck.
His sharp whines are loud in Kurt’s ears, and Kurt shivers at the hot breath
that blows over his sticky–sweaty shoulders. Blaine holds him tight even once
his orgasm has passed and Kurt can feel him begin to soften. Kurt lets him
smear sticky come on his abdomen as he cuddles him close. When Blaine’s
breathing still comes in short pants, Kurt makes soft shushing noises until
he’s no longer struggling to catch his breath.
Kurt doesn’t move until he hears Blaine snuffle slightly, and he turns to find
his boyfriend with red–rimmed, glassy eyes. “Blaine? What’s wrong? Did I do
something—“
“No, nothing like that,” he says, brushing Kurt’s bangs out of his eyes. “I
just love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” Kurt echoes softly. “Thank you so much for everything.”
Blaine snuggles into Kurt’s shoulder, arms wrapped loosely around his waist,
and they both drift off to sleep for another hour.
 
When Kurt wakes up, his come has been cleaned from his skin and Blaine is
walking into the room with two cups of coffee.
“You passed out, so I let you sleep,” Blaine explains. “Meanwhile, I fielded
Finn’s calls, answered Rachel’s texts, and got you spectacularly awful coffee
from the continental breakfast down the hall.”
“Best boyfriend ever,” Kurt says, propping himself up to kiss Blaine sweetly.
“What time is it?”
“We have an hour until we need to check out,” Blaine answers. “You should take
a shower and then we can get breakfast. My treat?”
Kurt rolls out of bed and gives Blaine a mischievous smirk. “I have a better
idea. Care to join me?”
Blaine laughs and slaps Kurt’s ass as he passes. “I think we’ll end up paying
for an extra night if we do that.”
When Kurt reaches the bathroom, he turns in the doorway and palms his cock.
“You sure? It wouldn’t take long.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Blaine pulls his shirt off and practically skips
into Kurt’s arms, almost tripping over Kurt’s jeans in his haste. They waste no
time in the bathroom, letting hands and tongues do their jobs quickly like it’s
a race against the clock. After all, they have the rest of forever to make it
last.
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