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tieshirtblazer · 12 years ago

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I'll Be Under The Mistletoe (Blaine/Kurt)

~3.5k (Kurt, Blaine, and mistletoe.) Kurt isn’t very well-versed in holiday traditions, and Blaine’s life is exceedingly difficult, until it isn’t. (December 2010 vs. December 2013.) (AO3 link.)

Note: Includes my version of what our Christmas episode SHOULD have consisted of... ;D I'd like to dedicate this to all the kind souls who liked my first fic, to slightestwind who was SO generous and lovely to rec it, and to heyblaine for taking the time to answer my silly newb questions. Sincere thanks to you ALL! Happy holidays! xo

* * *

December 2010

Stepping out of his car, Blaine reaches into the pocket of his coat to make sure the tickets are still there. He purchased them just hours ago, and knows however psyched he is to have Kurt at the King’s Island Christmas Spectacular, Kurt will be even more excited at the prospect of a trip to an amusement park during the holidays.

Oh, the holidays. Just one of the many things he and Kurt share a near-obsessive love for. He and Kurt went to the Lima Mall the week after Thanksgiving just to take in the décor; as tacky as some may consider the surplus of tinsel and ornaments and gaudy wreaths, he and Kurt adore open displays of Christmas cheer.

He opens the door to the Lima Bean, taking a moment to smile at the adorable wreath hanging from it, and steps inside.

Kurt’s eyes light up from the table he’s saved them. Blaine grins, rushing towards his friend to deliver the news. “Hey Kurt! Guess what?”

Kurt stands up to give him a warm hug, and as Blaine pulls away he looks at Kurt’s outfit; he is always endlessly amused by the extravagant ensembles Kurt puts together outside of the walls of Dalton Academy. Today, Kurt is decked out in fabulous holiday gear; a glittering red sweater with a reindeer brooch, unbelievably tight green skinny jeans, a candy-cane striped belt, and a—wait a second, is that a—

Blaine does a quick double-take, looking up at Kurt’s smiling face and then glancing back down again and—yes, yes indeed, Kurt Hummel has an actual, honest-to-god sprig of mistletoe hanging casually from his belt, like it isn’t shattering Blaine’s mind to pieces, sending all of his innocent trains of thought colliding into each other in a massive explosion, leaving behind only the most unacceptable and decidedly non-platonic fantasies in their places.

“Kurt,” says Blaine, mouth suddenly dry. “Kurt.”

“Blaine,” says Kurt, with a soft, uncertain smile. “You were going to tell me something?”

“I’m—you’re—Kurt, what are you wearing?”

Kurt’s smile falters instantly. “Oh,” he says softly. “You don’t like my holiday outfit?”

Blaine’s eyes widen. “No no no—Kurt, you know I love your outfits, they’re incredible, I just mean—on your belt, you’re—you’re wearing a—”

“Oh!” Kurt laughs. “Yeah! What do you think? I found it in the holiday section of the boutique I was browsing last week, and you know how I love making odd fashion statements, with my fox tails and what-nots, so I figured, why not put this weird holiday plant on my belt? Isn’t it cute?”

Blaine stares; first at Kurt, who’s smiling with his teeth on display, the very picture of childish innocence, then at the sprig of mistletoe hanging from his belt, baiting him and calling to him, and then at his ass in those skinny jeans—which of course, he has to tilt his head a bit to see but—damn. He is so fucked.

“Oh! Sorry, I—yes, it’s adorable, it’s brilliant, inspired, all the awards—”

“Blaine, are you alright? Do you want to sit down?”

Blaine falls gracelessly into the chair Kurt pulls out for him. “Sorry, I just. Long day. Grab me a coffee?” He hands Kurt a five-dollar bill, and watches Kurt prance over to the counter. He doesn’t even really need a coffee right now—in fact, what he does need is for Kurt to punch him hard in the dick as soon as possible, but since that’s clearly not an option, he’s going to have to turn a blind eye on the fact that his very beautiful, very innocent, and very best friend is wearing fucking mistletoe right above his crotch, practically begging for a mouth on it, and oh god, Blaine wants nothing more than to give in, but he knows Kurt doesn’t mean it like that, he can’t possibly.

For god’s sake, Blaine has been pulling all the moves—rehearsing Baby It’s Cold Outside seemed like a particularly good one, until he found himself walking away from Kurt very much un-kissed—and Kurt hasn’t shown any interest in taking things further than friendship. Plus, he doesn’t seem like the type whose first move would be to say “suck my cock” with the help of odd Christmas traditions.

Blaine catches himself checking Kurt out as he adds just the right amount of cinnamon to Blaine’s medium-drip. He shakes his head furiously in an attempt to snap out of it, and forces his thoughts elsewhere. King’s Island. Amusement park. Riding with Kurt on the park’s wildest roller-coaster. Stopping at the concession stands for roasted chestnuts. Licking hot chocolate off of Kurt’s face—wait, fuck!

“Here you go! Now spill,” says Kurt cheerfully, placing Blaine’s coffee on the table. “Not literally!” he adds with a laugh.

I’m so in love with you, thinks Blaine desperately. “So you know how I’m singing at the King’s Island—”

“Christmas Spectacular?” finishes Kurt. “Of course! How could I forget? Baby it’s cold outside, remember?”

“Exactly,” says Blaine smiling. “Well, I thought we could make a date of it! I mean—not a date, but I’ve got us tickets for one of the show dates! What do you say? You, me, a full day of amusement and holiday cheer?”

Kurt claps his hands together. “Say no more! I’m there.” He immediately rattles off a list of rides he wants to go on, of things he’s heard about the park’s holiday decorations, and Blaine lets himself get lost in the musical sound of his voice, his insides warm and fuzzy with affection, and his mind finally distracted from the temptation that hangs from Kurt’s belt.

* * *

A couple weeks later, when school is out for the holidays, Blaine finds himself standing outside of Kurt’s friend Rachel’s house for her “First Annual Non-Denominational Holiday Extravaganza”—referred to only in full, according to the invitation he received. He can hear raucous voices singing Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree inside, and smiles fondly, trying to pick out Kurt’s voice from the bunch.

One of Rachel’s dads opens the door and immediately ushers him towards the basement. “They’re just downstairs!” he says with a wink, “Sounds like a jolly good time!”

“Thank you so much for having us over, sir,” says Blaine, polite as ever.

The man laughs, squeezing his shoulder before walking off. Blaine walks down the stairs towards the party, and hears Kurt exclaim when he reaches the bottom.

“Blaine!” he shrieks, running towards him to envelop him in a hug. Blaine holds Kurt close, having missed him over the five days they’ve been apart since King’s Island, and reluctantly pulls away when Kurt loosens his hold.

“Kiss, kiss!” chants Rachel.

“What?” squeaks Kurt, staring at her in shock, hand stilling where it lingers on Blaine’s lapel.

“You’ve got to mack on your man, dude!” yells another one of their friends, the guy with the crazy mohawk. “Come on, look up!”

Oh God, thinks Blaine as he looks above their heads, eyes landing immediately on the mistletoe affixed to the ceiling. He looks back at Kurt, who is staring upwards in confusion.

“Dude, it’s mistletoe! Lay one on him!”

Kurt’s eyes squint adorably as he looks at the mistletoe, and then he snorts. “So this is what mistletoe looks like?! I had no idea!” He laughs while Blaine’s heart pounds in his chest. “I even wore this on my belt the other week,” continues Kurt, “and Blaine was so—” He pauses suddenly, eyes widening.

Oh fuck, thinks Blaine, blushing to the tips of his ears, he knows now, he knows how depraved I am, oh my GOD.

“Yeah, Hummel! Get it!” says the guy with the mohawk, and wow, fuck this peanut gallery. So not helping.

“You’ve gotta kiss him, boy,” says Mercedes with a knowing look on her face. Oh crap, thinks Blaine, does she know that I like him?

At this point, Kurt’s blushing too, and Blaine can’t help but take pity on him. “Sorry,” he whispers as he leans forward, “it’s tradition.” He gives Kurt a quick peck on the lips and ignores the chorus of disappointed groans from Kurt’s friends. Kurt’s eyes, which had fluttered closed before Blaine kissed him, open again, and Kurt gives a shaky laugh.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, pulling Blaine into the room. “For not making a show of it.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” says Blaine, with an arm around Kurt’s waist. Even though I want to, so badly.

An hour later, the mistletoe is once again forgotten—by Kurt and him, at least, though Kurt’s friends make good use of it—and Blaine thinks to himself, Crisis averted.

* * *

Later that night, when the party winds down and Blaine finds himself cuddling with Kurt on the couch—platonically!!!, Blaine’s brain reminds him, three exclamation points included—Kurt brings it up again.

“Blaine,” says Kurt hesitantly, shifting in Blaine’s arms. “What were you thinking when you saw that… mistletoe on my belt the other day?”

I was thinking of kissing you all over, thinks Blaine, and making you cry out while I sucked you off, right there in the middle of the Lima Bean.

“Nothing,” says Blaine slowly. “I was just… worried someone would take it the wrong way.”

“Oh,” says Kurt, and Blaine wonders why he sounds so disappointed. “Well, thank you for always looking out for me.”

“Any time,” breathes Blaine into his hair.

* * * * * *

December 2013

Blaine hums to himself as he walks up the steps leading to Kurt’s apartment in Brooklyn. Originally, Kurt had planned on coming to Lima for Christmas, but the two of them decided that with Rachel and Santana visiting home for the holidays, they might as well make use of the apartment in New York for a romantic Christmas alone. (Kurt had waggled his eyebrows suggestively when he’d brought up the idea over Skype—Blaine can only hope this means his immediate future holds the promise of lots of sex with his beautiful fiancé.)

Blaine had ended up booking his flight a few days early with Kurt’s approval, which means that Rachel is currently still around, as her flight home leaves tomorrow. (As a result, any enthusiastically loud love-making will be postponed till after her departure, but Blaine can’t complain, as just being in Kurt’s presence is enough for him.)

“Blaine!” Kurt exclaims from the kitchen as Blaine opens the door. Blaine drops his duffel bag on the floor and holds out his arms as Kurt jumps into them. They hold each other tight for a few blissfully long seconds, basking in the warmth their hugs always bring. Blaine kisses Kurt, first on the cheek and then, when Kurt tilts his head, on the lips, slow, unhurried, and loving.

Suddenly, Kurt pulls away and wriggles out of Blaine��s arms, an entirely too devious look on his face. He turns, hips sashaying enticingly as he walks to the kitchen table. “Can I interest you in some eggnog, dearest?” he calls with his back to Blaine, turning only his neck to look back towards him.

Blaine’s higher functioning stutters and ceases when he notices it. There, hanging nonchalantly from Kurt’s belt, right over his pert ass—mistletoe.

Blaine’s mouth drops open, blood pounding between his ears. With each passing second of silence, Kurt’s smirk grows wider, and his ass wiggles just a bit faster.

“Is that Blaine?” calls Rachel. “Oh my god, it is! Blaine, it’s good to see you! How are—are you okay?”

Blaine breathes heavily, eyes fixed only on his prize. “Bedroom,” he says hoarsely, “now.”

Rachel looks between them and then—bless her—retreats to her bedroom. “I’ll just watch some movies on my laptop,” she says.

“Use the noise-cancelling headphones I got you last Christmas,” says Kurt, licking his lips.

* * *

Barely a second passes before Blaine darts towards Kurt, their mouths crashing together hotly. There’s no time for sweet romance, not now, when Blaine feels need rushing through his body like a freight train. He pushes Kurt blindly against the nearest surface, which turns out to be the refrigerator, and the clatter of magnets hitting the floor does nothing to distract either of them.

Kurt moans into his mouth, wanton, pulling Blaine flush against him. He hooks a leg around Blaine’s hip, and Blaine lifts the other one for him, wrapping it around his waist and palming his ass roughly through his skintight jeans.

“I thought you—” Kurt gasps, “I thought you said bedroom?”

Blaine growls, rutting into him so hard that Kurt slides up the fridge, dislodging even more magnets. This time, Kurt takes notice. “Oh for God’s sake, take me to the bedroom.”

“Fuck yes,” says Blaine. Blindsided by lust, Blaine attempts over-ambitiously to lift Kurt into his arms and carry him all the way there, and, while Blaine succeeds for at least eight steps, Kurt guffaws when he stumbles and drops him.

“Shut up,” says Blaine, embarrassed, “shut your stupid face.”

“You love my stupid face.”

“I love everything about you.”

Kurt’s face softens. “And I you.” He pulls Blaine closer by the scarf and freezes. “Wow, we didn’t even manage to get you out of your outerwear!”

Blaine looks down and laughs, tugging off his scarf and coat in record time. “To be fair, I was very distracted.”

“Mmhmm,” says Kurt with a knowing smile. “I can’t imagine why.” He turns around and walks to his room, mistletoe bobbing against his ass, and Blaine can barely restrain his own whimper.

Kurt is already halfway out of his jeans when Blaine steps inside. Blaine admires the pale skin of his thighs and then chuckles. “Really? Is that even a question?”

Kurt laughs, shaking his hips to show off his tight briefs, the words “Naughty or nice?” emblazoned over his ass. Jeans finally off, Kurt’s shirt quickly follows, and he’s left standing in only his underwear.

“Bend over,” says Blaine, “hands on the bed.”

“Fuck,” says Kurt as he complies.

Blaine moves to stand behind him, gripping his ass cheeks and rubbing his clothed cock against them. “I believe we have a holiday tradition to observe.”

“Blaine,” Kurt whines, pushing back against him.

Blaine kneels slowly, mouthing at the dimples on Kurt’s back, teeth scraping against his skin. He continues downwards and his teeth catch on the fabric of Kurt’s briefs.

“You’ve been very naughty this year,” he murmurs, pulling Kurt’s briefs down with his teeth and fingers. He nips and sucks on the newly-revealed skin, and follows the path of Kurt’s briefs with his tongue.

When they hit the floor, he suckles his way back up Kurt’s thighs, which tremble with anticipation. “C’mon,” Kurt moans, “please, Blaine.”

Blaine parts his cheeks with his fingers and leans in, swiping his tongue quickly against Kurt’s dusky pink hole. Kurt stifles a whimper.

“On the bed,” says Blaine, pushing at his thighs until Kurt’s on top of the mattress, head resting on a pillow, ass in the air. Blaine kneels on the floor behind him, mouth level with his hole, and spits.

“Oh god,” says Kurt when Blaine buries his nose between his cheeks, suckling wet kisses against him. Blaine loves this, loves doing this to Kurt, more than anything. The noises he makes, the way he tastes, the feel of him against his tongue.

Blaine is barely aware of the guttural moans he himself is making as he sucks and licks into Kurt, tongue sliding inside of him, getting him nice and wet. Distantly, he registers the drawn-out high-pitched whine Kurt is letting out, barely muffled by the pillow under him. Rachel, he thinks, tongue in Kurt’s ass, is so goddamn lucky to have those noise-cancelling headphones right now.

He breathes deeply through his nose and grips Kurt’s thighs in both hands, knowing full well how easily Kurt’s skin bruises. He takes in a heaving breath and then holds it inside as he presses his tongue as far into Kurt as he can. Sometimes, he thinks he might have better breath control than most Olympic swimmers, just from his years of practice at eating Kurt out like a fucking champion.

“Fuck,” says Blaine when he finally comes up for air, breath hot against Kurt’s asshole. “I could do this to you for hours.”

“Blaine,” Kurt whines, high and needy, thighs shaking as he ruts into the mattress. “Please, I need more.”

“What’s that?” says Blaine in between sucking kisses. “My tongue isn’t enough for your greedy little asshole?”

“No, fuck, baby, need your cock,” Kurt gasps, “please, baby, I—oh god—I need you inside.”

“Fuck,” says Blaine as he pulls away, voice wrecked. “Look at you.” He runs his hand over the globes of Kurt’s ass, lets his fingers catch on the rim of his hole.

Kurt groans into his pillow. “Baby, you’re—you’re being a tease.”

“I’m being a tease?” says Blaine, leaning down again to nose between Kurt’s cheeks. “Says the very same boy who met me in a coffee shop wearing mistletoe above his pretty cock three years ago?” Blaine sits up with a huff, swatting Kurt lightly on the ass before he reaches for the lube on Kurt’s bedside table. “Do you have any idea what that did to me?” He pours lube on Kurt’s asshole and slides his fingers through it, pushing in one, and then two, with ease.

He watches as Kurt smirks into his pillow. “As much as I love this—fuck, that’s good—this trip down memory lane,” says Kurt, “I’d really like it if you put your cock in me ASAP.”

“You’re a dirty little tease, Kurt Hummel,” growls Blaine, withdrawing his fingers to unzip his pants and pull his cock out. “And I’m gonna fuck you with my clothes on.”

“Oh fuck yes,” says Kurt, “God, I missed you. Missed your mouth, missed your dick.”

“Oh yeah?” says Blaine, pressing the head of his bare cock against Kurt’s wet hole. “What else did you miss?”

“Missed your—oh fuck,” says Kurt as Blaine slides in. Blaine groans, mouth dropping open and eyes screwing shut as he takes in the sensation of Kurt, tight around him, muscles clenching to pull him inside.

“Oh god,” says Blaine, hands settled on Kurt’s hips. “I take it back. This I could do forever.”

“I’ll give you three lifetimes for each,” says Kurt, “if you’ll just fucking move.”

Blaine snaps his hips in response, fucking slowly into Kurt, who gets up from his pillow and braces himself on his elbows.

“Oh, oh, oh,” whimpers Kurt with each thrust, no longer muffling the noises he makes. “You feel so good, Blaine. Love you so much.”

“Love you too,” says Blaine, bending to cover Kurt’s body with his own, palms flat against the mattress. He nips playfully at Kurt’s ear as he speeds up his thrusts, shifting his hips until Kurt’s moans get louder. He hears an odd noise and realizes his belt buckle is smacking into Kurt’s ass, well on its way to leaving a bruise behind.

“Oh god,” whines Kurt, turning his head, “Blaine, kiss me.”

Blaine nuzzles into Kurt’s neck and kisses up his jaw. “Hold on, just let me get out of these—” He pulls out quickly to strip off the rest of his clothes, tossing them carelessly onto the floor. Once he’s naked, he slides his cock back inside and hooks his arms under Kurt’s, bearing down on him until their bodies lie flat against the bed. He thrusts slower now, head bowed to cover Kurt’s mouth with his own. Kurt gasps into him, jaw slack and mouth relaxed against his.

Kurt loves this, he knows. Loves feeling surrounded by him. “I love you, Kurt Hummel,” he whispers into Kurt’s mouth. “Love that I’m getting married to you, and that this time next year,” he says with a deep thrust, “you’ll be my husband.”

“Yes,” says Kurt, “yes, yes, yes. We’re gonna be married. I’m—fuck—I’m yours forever, always.” He’s babbling now, adorably, and Blaine cannot put into words how much he loves him. “Oh god,” says Kurt, “Baby please. Make me come, I need it.” He tries to sneak an arm under his body, but Blaine stops him.

“Just from my cock, Kurt. You can do it, I know you.” He increases his pace again, and Kurt melts into the mattress, gasping with each snap of Blaine’s hips.

“I’ve got you, Kurt. Come on, sweetheart. Let go.” After a few more sharp thrusts, Kurt stiffens and cries out, rutting into the mattress as he comes. His asshole clenches around Blaine’s cock and Blaine lets out a groan, fucking into Kurt even faster, pounding him into the mattress.

“Oh fuck,” says Kurt, slumped into his bed and giddy from his orgasm. “Come on, Blaine. Come in my ass. Fill me up.”

After one last thrust, Blaine shudders and comes so hard he nearly blacks out, face buried in Kurt’s sweaty hair. He stays there while he comes down from his high, peppering Kurt’s damp hairline with kisses.

“Heavy,” mumbles Kurt below him. Blaine huffs out a laugh and rolls them both onto their sides, spooning Kurt from behind, his soft cock still in Kurt’s ass.

Blaine starts to pull out but Kurt whines in protest. “No,” he says, eyes closed. “Like this. Let’s stay like this.”

Blaine smiles into his neck and holds him closer. “Yeah,” he says, breathing him in. “Let’s stay like this forever.”

#Blaine/Kurt #Klaine fic #klaine #my fic #pairing: blaine/kurt #rating: NC17 #length: 0-5k #glee fic

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tieshirtblazer · 12 years ago

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A Little Wine, A Lotta Courage (Blaine/Kurt)

~4k. After a night of light drinking, Kurt works up the courage to tell Blaine his biggest secret. (AO3 link.)

(GKM fill: BP!Kurt has never touched himself, and doesn't know how. In an attempt to be a helpful friend, Blaine offers to instruct him on how to bring himself to orgasm. He soon realizes he didn't think this through properly.)

* * *

It’s midnight when Blaine and Kurt stumble back to their hotel room, after a pleasant few hours of drinking and bonding with their fellow Warblers. Taking a trip together after the school year ends is a Warbler tradition, and despite having returned to McKinley, Kurt was more than happy to join the Warblers on their trip this year. Wes had insisted on it, “once a Warbler, always a Warbler,” though Kurt suspects Blaine may have turned on his charm and done some convincing in order to secure an invitation for Kurt. It’s not like the Warblers have ever said no to Blaine, though in this case, having been given the opportunity to share a room with Blaine for one whole week, Kurt certainly isn’t complaining.

“So… how about a few more drinks?” says Blaine, leaning against the wall.

Kurt giggles. “Easy there, tiger. We can’t invade the mini-bar since we’re underage and all, and plus I think I’ve had just the right amount of red wine to leave me feeling happy and ready for cuddles.”

“Cuddles, huh?” says Blaine, perking up immediately. “I could go for cuddles. I do so enjoy them…”

“Then get into your PJs, Mister Anderson! As dashing as your summer vacation wardrobe is, cuddling is far better with soft cotton blends. Though frankly, I’m still appalled that you haven’t taken a page out of my book and invested in silk pajamas.”

“Oh Kurt, I really don’t think I could pull off silk pajamas the way you do.”

“I beg to differ, Blaine; careful observation of you has lead me to believe that you could wear a potato sack and still have the girls a’swooning.”

“Listen Kurt, we may not all be dressed like we’ve stepped off the catwalk, but let me assure you that even my sartorial tastes run higher than potato sacks!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Blaine Warbler.”

Once they’ve both successfully changed and gotten ready for bed – Kurt agreeing, after much persuasion, to shorten his moisturizing routine – they settle into bed, seeking each other’s warmth under the covers. Kurt smiles, warm and happy, as Blaine’s arms pull him closer.

“This was fun,” says Blaine, fingers playing with the hem of Kurt’s silk pajama top. “Scale of 1 to 10: how much do you like wine?”

Kurt giggles, enjoying the occasional brush of Blaine’s fingers against his torso. “Ask me again in the morning.”

Kurt’s breath hitches as Blaine draws swirls into the sensitive skin of his belly. His expression changes, from tipsy-fond-happy to wary, nervous.

“Hey,” says Blaine, fingers stilling. “What’s wrong? Do you feel sick? Are you okay?”

“Kurt,” says Blaine, sobering up immediately and pulling him closer. “You know you can tell me anything. I would never judge you, or hold it against you.”

“I know, it’s just… it’s something I haven’t told anyone, it’s… a part of me and I hate it and I feel like such a… a freak, or something—”

“Hey, no,” soothes Blaine. “You aren’t a freak, you are so perfectly you. You’re incredible, and whatever this is, if it’s a part of you, it can only serve to make you moreso.”

“Okay,” says Kurt, taking a deep breath. “Just… promise me you won’t hate me.”

“I could never,” says Blaine easily. “There isn’t even the slightest possibility of that. What is it, Kurt?”

“Well, I’m… I’m not like you. Physically. I mean, obviously that’s the case, I’m skinny and weak and… I look like a girl and— that’s not even the problem, it’s not my appearance, it’s just. I’m more… I’m more like a girl than you know.”

Kurt scrunches his eyes closed, horrified, and tries to shrink away from Blaine, who stops him immediately with a strong, reassuring hold on his waist.

“You mean… you have…”

“Down there, I’m. I have. Girl parts. A vagina. I—feel free to leave.”

“Kurt,” says Blaine, hands finding Kurt’s face, stroking his heated cheeks, wiping at the tears that prick the corners of his eyelids. “Stop it. I’m not leaving. There’s nothing about this that makes you a freak, Kurt. It happens. It’s more common than you think it is. Kurt, look at me.”

Kurt opens his eyes and tries not to cry at the horribly earnest look on Blaine’s face.

“You’re beautiful, Kurt. Inside and out. And every single part of you, including that, is beautiful.”

“You’ve never seen it.”

“I don’t need to see it, to know.”

“Blaine…”

“Come here,” says Blaine, pulling Kurt into a tight hug. “Thank you for telling me this, for trusting me and feeling comfortable around me and… and loving me like a friend, as I love you. It means the world to me, Kurt. I’m so proud of you.”

Kurt clings to him, and laughs weakly into his shoulder. “Blaine Anderson, how are you real? I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.”

“Me neither. Did you wish upon a genie, perhaps? A shooting star?”

Kurt giggles, pulling away and swatting him playfully on the shoulder. “Yes, I wished for a boyfriend, and instead I got you. Never trusting a genie again!”

“Hey!” says Blaine. “I’ll have you know I am far better than any boyfriend. And I, for one, would take you over a boyfriend any day.”

“Let me get that on tape and play it back to you on the day you find someone else, Blaine.”

“There’s no one else for me,” says Blaine, smiling fondly. “Only you.”

Oh, Kurt thinks, How I wish you meant that.

“Kurt,” says Blaine, serious, “I hope you don’t feel like you need to be tipsy in order to tell me things you find hard to say.”

“No!” says Kurt quickly, “I always knew I could trust you. I wanted to tell you, I just… needed a little courage this time.”

“You’ve always had courage, Kurt. And you’ve always had me. My loyalty, my trust, my admiration, my everything. You can tell me anything, Kurt.”

“I know. I really do know that, and of course you have all that and more from me too. But… I’ve really never told anyone about this. Only Dad knows. And Carole. I haven’t even told Finn.” Kurt scrunches up his nose, thinking. “Though that would be weird. He’d ask the most invasive questions!”

Blaine laughs. “That he would. He’d be thrilled to have someone he could freely consult on the subject of vaginas.”

Kurt grimaces. “Oh god, I can’t even imagine what sorts of things he’d want to know. ‘What’s it like?’ ‘How do I do this?’ He’d be way too excited, and let me tell you, it’s really not that exciting.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Kurt,” says Blaine, teasing, “I mean, it must be pretty exciting to be capable of multiple orgasms. Even I’m jealous!”

“Oh,” says Kurt, cheeks pinking. “Well, I wouldn’t know what that was like. I’m a virgin, Blaine, you know that!”

“Of course,” says Blaine. “So am I. I just mean… haven’t you ever masturbated?”

“Um.” Kurt bites his lip, embarrassed. “No. I’ve never really felt the need… and it’s not like I’d know how to do it, anyway.”

Blaine stares at him. “Wait, really? You’ve never touched yourself? Kurt, you’re… you’re missing out. I mean, obviously it’ll be different for you than it is for me, but orgasms are the most incredible feeling. You’ve got to try.”

Kurt blushes wildly. “Ok, sure. I guess.”

“No, Kurt! I know that look on your face; you’re just going to file this away as something that you might try one day years down the road, but have no interest in pursuing in the near future. But… we’re doing it tonight. Kurt, my dear friend, you will not be sleeping tonight until you have experienced the all-consuming pleasure of an orgasm.”

“Blaine…”

“Perhaps several! Oh man, now I’m excited. Kurt, we’re totally making this happen!”

“Blaine,” says Kurt in a strangled voice. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but like I said – I have no idea how to make myself feel… that! And it’s not like you do either.”

“Well, actually,” says Blaine with a mischievous grin. “Remember how I said I dated a girl for a few months last year?”

Kurt’s eyes widened. “You didn’t…”

“Oh yes, Kurt Hummel, I certainly did! And, I’m told, I did it rather well. Some may say I am quite skilled with my fingers.” Blaine wiggles his fingers in Kurt’s face, and Kurt can’t help but burst out laughing.

“Yeah, okay Mister Anderson, I think it’s time for bed.”

“No!” Blaine’s grin disappears and is replaced by one of his painfully earnest looks, the ones that send butterflies swooping through Kurt’s stomach, that tie his insides into knots and leave him breathless.

“Kurt, I mean it. Lie down, relax. I won’t touch you, I’ll just be here, by your side. Guiding you.”

“Blaine…”

“No, this is the perfect opportunity! It won’t be weird, I promise. And god, it will be worth it, for you to realize how good you can make yourself feel.”

Kurt stays silent, lost in Blaine’s persuasive puppy-dog eyes, and finally gives the slightest nod of assent. “Fine. Just… promise me this won’t change anything. You won’t… regret this, right?”

“Kurt,” Blaine says, reaching for his hand under the bed sheets. “I could never, ever regret this. I want nothing more than to give you good things, and make you feel them for yourself. Consider this my thank-you for telling me your secret. This will only draw us closer to each other. As friends.”

“Friends,” Kurt whispers. “Okay. So, how do I start?”

* * *

“Like I said, lie down and relax.” After Kurt settles into a comfortable position, Blaine pulls the covers over him. “See, I won’t see a thing. It’ll be like I’m not even here!”

Kurt snorts. “Blaine, I really doubt I’ll be able to forget that you’re here.”

“Okay, well remember, no judgment and I’m here only to help you. Now close your eyes, and let your mind wander. Think about… things that could potentially turn you on.”

“Blaine…” whispers Kurt, blushing.

“Don’t be embarrassed. Think of… a person you find attractive, or a romantic scene in a movie, or something. Whatever gets you blushing behind closed doors! You don’t have to tell me who or what it is, but just imagine it.”

“Okay…”

Blaine lies down next to Kurt, watching his face. His eyes are closed and slowly, he begins to relax.

“Perfect,” Blaine says, and means it. “Now, um. Unbutton your shirt. Forget I’m here! Imagine Tom Hardy is here and he totally wants you to flash him some porcelain.”

Kurt giggles and opens his eyes. “Blaine! You’re killing the mood here.”

“No way, Tom Hardy is no mood-killer! But seriously, unbutton your shirt. It’ll… make it easier.”

“How?” says Kurt, skeptical. Still, he begins to unbutton his shirt under the covers, where Blaine – to his immense disappointment – cannot see.

“Well, masturbating isn’t necessarily just touching yourself there and nowhere else. It helps to kind of… let your hands wander, over your chest and stuff. Trust me.”

Kurt sighs as he finishes with the last button. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t…”

“I know,” says Blaine, smiling. He props himself up on his elbow. “Now close your eyes again. Trail your fingers lightly across your chest and stomach, around your… your nipples, your collarbone, your bellybutton, wherever.” He clears his throat, and when he speaks again his voice is just a little deeper. “Keep your touch feather-soft and teasing, like you’ve got all the time in the world to get to know your own body.”

“This feels a bit silly,” Kurt mumbles as his hand moves across his torso under the sheets.

“Do it slower. Lighter. Try different things. Like… tug at your nipples, see what that does. Imagine… it’s that special someone doing it instead.”

“Oh,” says Kurt, breath hitching.

“Yeah,” says Blaine, swallowing back a gasp. “Just like that.”

He lets Kurt keep that up for bit, tweaking his own nipples and drawing circles around his bellybutton, breathing just a little harder, a little faster. “Let me know when you’re ready to take things further.”

“I’m ready,” Kurt breathes out.

“Good,” Blaine says. Inside, he thinks Shit shit shit shit shit, because fuck, he himself isn’t ready, won’t ever be ready to see Kurt like this, loose-limbed with his collarbones peeking out from the top of the covers, pale and sharp and unmarred and begging for Blaine’s mouth to suckle bruises into them.

His eyes trail up the curve of Kurt’s long neck, up the slope of his jaw line to where his cheeks have just begun to flush, a reddish hue that stands out against the whiteness of his perfect skin.

“Blaine?” whispers Kurt.

“Yeah, sorry, I was just…” Watching you, wanting you, so badly. “… thinking about what to do next.” He shifts a little closer to Kurt, their legs barely touching. “Let your right hand trail down between your legs, but over your pajamas. Keep your touch light and teasing. Are you… are you wearing underwear?”

“No,” admits Kurt. “The silk… it’s more comfortable without anything underneath…”

“Right,” says Blaine as his brain short-circuits briefly. “Good. That’s great.” Holy shit holy shit. “What are you feeling right now? Good? Bad?”

“Good,” Kurt says, softly. “Definitely good. Um. Kind of… warm all over. In a good way.”

“Great. Are you comfortable? Are the covers too heavy?”

“Maybe… just the thin sheet will be enough.”

“Okay,” says Blaine, pulling back the heavy comforter. He freezes as it passes over Kurt’s wandering hands. Now he can make out the movements of every finger, can get an even better idea of what Kurt’s doing to himself. One of Kurt’s hands, the one closest to him, is still tweaking a nipple, while the other brushes over his… his pussy, just like Blaine instructed.

With the heavier sheets out of the way, Blaine continues. “Now, spread your legs a little. Let your fingers slip under the waistband of your pants, over the mound, into the folds of your… Kurt, can I call it your pussy, do you… do you mind if I use that word—”

“Please,” breathes Kurt, biting his lower lip. “Call it my pussy, yeah.”

“Fuck,” mumbles Blaine as Kurt whimpers softly. “What does it feel like?”

“God, Blaine, it’s wet,” says Kurt, “So wet and warm, I’ve never—it’s never been like this.”

“Good, Kurt, that’s—” Jesus fuck. “That’s a good sign, that means you’re turned on and you’re ready. Get your fingers nice and slick, especially your middle finger, let it dip down into the hole, gather up more fluids.”

“Oh my god,” whispers Kurt, “I’ve never felt the actual hole, this is so weird.”

“Good-weird or bad-weird?”

“Good-weird, definitely.”

“Great, Kurt. You’re doing so well. Now pull your fingers back to where they first dipped inside the folds, feel around in that area. There’ll be this little nub, it’s called your clit, you’ll know when you find it. It’ll feel really sensitive, like—”

“Oh,” Kurt gasps. “Yeah, I— I found it. Fuck, Blaine, I didn’t know it’d feel like this.”

Blaine tries not to groan, and adjusts himself in his boxers. Fuck. Kurt never swears, and the fact that he just did makes it very clear how much he’s losing control, submitting himself to the promise of pleasure.

“Kurt,” says Blaine, voice rough with arousal. “Don’t be alarmed, I swear this is as much touching as I’ll do, but I’m going to put a hand on your belly. It’ll… it’ll help us tell where you’re at, since when you’re close your abdominal muscles will start twitching.”

“Oh? Yeah, okay…” whines Kurt, not even opening his eyes. Normally, he would have protested, wide-eyed and embarrassed, but Kurt, right now, would say yes to anything if it helped him get closer to the edge. Blaine realizes this, and knows it would be so easy, so easy to suggest taking over with his own fingers, it’ll go faster this way, trust me. I’m gonna make you feel so good. Blaine knows, but resists, because this is only for Kurt, and he won’t cross that line, not when Kurt’s defenses are down like this.

Blaine slides his hand onto Kurt’s torso, finding the smooth, firm skin of his stomach. He lays his palm flat against it, rubbing in soothing circles. He watches Kurt’s face, where his pink lips part at the first touch of Blaine’s hand, his eyebrows knitting together as he continues to feel his own clit.

“How do you feel, Kurt?”

“I’m—god, Blaine, it’s slippery, I’m so wet, is this normal?”

“Fuck, Kurt, yes it’s normal, you’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you.” I want to put my mouth on you, thinks Blaine desperately, Want to taste you there, lick at your juices until you’re sobbing with it, want to suck on your clit until you’re screaming my name.

Kurt’s other hand, still at his nipples, moves lower, and brushes against Blaine’s hand on his stomach. They both gasp, Kurt drawing his hand away quickly, and Blaine pressing against his belly more firmly.

“Kurt, now take your middle three fingers and start moving them in circles over your clit. Press harder against it, not too hard, but no longer feather-soft. Go at your own pace, not too fast, not to slow. Whatever feels best to you.”

Kurt’s eyebrows furrow as he begins. Blaine watches his hand move under the sheets. “Move in circles from the wrist, Kurt. Keep your arm in place, let your hand do all the work.”

“Hm? I don’t understand— Oh!” Kurt gasps when Blaine’s hand closes around his forearm, holding it steady.

“Now move from the wrist Kurt, in circles like I said. See how the rest of your arm stays in place?”

Blaine’s hand rests against Kurt’s hipbone, gripping tight onto his arm. Blaine can feel the tendons shifting beneath the skin of Kurt’s arm, can feel every single movement of his hand.

A soft moan escapes from Kurt’s lips. “Oh, oh—that feels good, yeah.”

Blaine shifts his own hips, wincing. He’s hard as a rock under his boxers, and god, he wants, he wants. This is about Kurt, he thinks frantically, I’m doing this for Kurt. Now that Kurt’s got the idea, he lets go of Kurt’s arm and puts his hand back on Kurt’s stomach.

“Move your fingers faster when you’re ready. Just keep increasing the pace a little, keep thinking about whoever it is, that it’s his fingers there, touching you, touching your clit—”

“Blaine, unnghh.” Kurt’s gasping now, his head sinking further into the pillows, hair in disarray. His flush has spread from his cheeks to his ears and neck and fuck, even his chest, where the sheets have slipped, revealing a single dark rosy nipple.

Kurt’s legs shift under the sheets, thighs opening up as his hand begins to move more frantically. Blaine can only imagine the soft expanse of porcelain skin on his thighs, can only bite them in his wildest dreams. He wonders who Kurt’s thinking of, if they’ll ever get to fall between his milky white thighs, pleasure his slick pussy with the patience and reverence it deserves. He himself could spend days there, kneeling, head bowed in worship; he’d bury his tongue into the soft folds and eat him out leisurely, slow and lazy.

“Keep imagining him. Imagine his fingers sliding into your hole, one, then two, then three, not to get you ready for him but just to get you nice and wet. Imagine he wants more, he kisses down your chest and stomach and then he puts his mouth on you, where your fingers are, and sucks like he… like he wants nothing more than to bring you pleasure.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” whimpers Kurt, fingers moving lightning-fast against his clit. His abs tighten under Blaine’s hand, and Blaine stops with his soothing circular rubs and press against them instead, hard and firm and insistent.

Blaine drops his head next to Kurt’s, buries his nose into Kurt’s soft, sweet-smelling hair, puts his mouth a hair’s breadth away from Kurt’s ear. “Yeah, c’mon Kurt,” he murmurs, “You’re so close. You’re gonna feel so good, Kurt, I promise. Come on, baby, yeah.”

Kurt lets out a high-pitched whine, biting his lip harder. “God, Blaine, I’m close, I’m ready, I want to come, Blaine, please.” He takes his other hand, the one closest to Blaine, and raises it shakily until his fingers are resting in Blaine’s hair, gently urging Blaine’s face closer to his own.

Blaine presses his mouth against Kurt’s ear, breathing hotly into it. “You can do it, Kurt, fuck, look at you. You’re gonna come so hard, I know it. You’re perfect, Kurt. Your pussy is amazing, I’m gonna make you love it, gonna make you love your pussy so much.”

“Yeah, Blaine, I want you to—I want you—” He lets out a shocked moan. “Yes, yes, fuck, I’m—”

Blaine’s fingers press into Kurt’s abs as his muscles twitch wildly and fuck, yes, it’s happening. Kurt’s mouth drops open as he cries out. His hand stills, buried between his folds. His fingers curl into Blaine’s scalp.

Blaine groans and bites gently on Kurt’s earlobe. “Blaine,” Kurt whines. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as Kurt’s hips buck wildly and Kurt’s back arches gracefully above the mattress. Kurt whimpers through the aftershocks, holding Blaine close as he presses soft kisses into Kurt’s ear, his hair.

The orgasm leaves Kurt panting, struggling to catch his breath, and his body settles boneless against the mattress.

Kurt opens his eyes. He turns his head towards Blaine and their noses brush. They stare at each other, breathing heavily.

“What did you think?” Blaine whispers.

“I think… I wish it were his fingers instead of mine.”

Blaine’s eyes widen. Whose fingers?—Oh. Right. Mystery guy. “Ah. Well… assuming he isn’t someone famous, maybe… one day you’ll feel what it’s like… to have his fingers there… I mean, maybe he thinks of you too! But not just during… you know… I mean, he’s an idiot if he doesn’t realize how amazing you are, and—”

“Blaine,” says Kurt, bright-eyed and smiling. “How is it you were so coherent during all of that, and now you’re babbling, hm?”

Blaine stutters. “I just… huh. I guess I should stop talking.”

“Blaine, can I tell you another secret?”

“Of course!” says Blaine, smoothing out his face into his best earnest-and-attentive expression, even though he’s so hard in his boxers that it’s near impossible to function.

“That person that I was thinking of? It was you.”

Blaine’s world stops, for just a moment. He gapes at Kurt, struggles to form words. “Are you—are you serious?”

“One hundred percent so.”

“Jesus fuck,” says Blaine. “I um—I need a moment. Just. To sort out my. You know. I’ll just—the bathroom. I’ll go there.”

Kurt giggles. “No, idiot. Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to lie here by your side while you remind yourself how your kind of masturbation works.”

“Uh huh.”

“And, if perhaps you feel the need to kiss me to muffle any sounds you might make, that’d be okay with me.”

“Really?”

Kurt gives Blaine a shy smile. “Really.”

“Kurt, I—I like you so much. You make me crazy.”

“I like you too, Blaine,” he says, stroking Blaine’s cheek, “Now, listen carefully. Trail your hand down your chest and into your boxers, shut up, and kiss me.”

To Kurt’s immense delight, it turns out Blaine is just as good at following instructions as he is at giving them.

#blaine/kurt #klaine #kurt/blaine #fic #klaine fic #my fic #rating: nc17 #pairing: blaine/kurt #length: 0-5k #pwp #glee fic #glee-kink-meme fill #GKM fill

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