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“Our extended Ewan McGregor movie marathon on Sunday is canceled,” Kurt announces with a heavy sigh when Blaine answers his phone Thursday night.
Blaine sticks his pencil in his place in his math book and closes it. “Why?” He tries not to sound too disappointed, but between Moulin Rouge and Velvet Goldmine it was going to be a good night despite having been unable to convince Kurt to add any of the Star Wars movies to the list.
“Dad and Carole are having Mr. Schue and a couple of their big donors over for dinner to try to keep the momentum going up to the election,” Kurt says. There’s a faint fwump, like Kurt’s dropped to the thick layers of his bedding. “Carole’s cooking, and she says she doesn’t need me, though after her last attempt at a risotto I’m not sure that’s the right decision if she’s trying to impress these people. I mean, seriously, Finn got his atrocious taste in food from somewh- “
“Kurt,” Blaine interrupts, leaning back in his desk chair with a fond smile, because there’s just something about Kurt when he goes off on a tear about things that he can’t help but love, even if it can make it take a while for Kurt to get to the point.
“Right. Off-topic. Anyway, I don’t have to be there to help, but we can’t hang out watching movies all day. We’d apparently be in the way, even up in my room. So we’ll have to do something else.”
“Oh.” Blaine falls silent, unable for the third day in a row to say what would have been so easy before this past weekend. But their time at his house, in his bed, had changed everything. He doesn’t know where the new lines are between them, and he doesn’t want to do the wrong thing.
“Is there anything you want to do?” Kurt asks. “And do not say bowling again. I don’t care if it’s karaoke bowling. I will never get over those shoes.”
“Well...” Blaine can’t say anything more.
“Oh, god, you want to go bowling, don’t you. You’re probably giving me your patented Blaine Anderson puppy dog eyes right now. No. I would like to be able to pick an outfit for date night without having to coordinate it with terminally ugly shoes. That smell. Although, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, smelling like hundreds of other pairs of feet is a lesser offense than the shoes’ complete lack of style.”
Blaine flips the cover of his math book open and closed and tries to calm the hammering of his heart. This isn’t a big deal. He should just say it. Just because they made love for the first time less than a week ago doesn’t mean that things are that different between them. He’s invited Kurt over more times than he can count, and today shouldn’t be different. Except it feels it is, because now coming over to his house has a whole new history. It might have expectations, and he doesn’t want to assume or to pressure Kurt in any way. He doesn’t want to be that kind of boyfriend, not again, especially not after being so stupid in the car. Kurt may have forgiven him, but Blaine hasn’t really forgiven himself for the lapse. He needs to be extra careful.
They’d had sex, and he knows Kurt enjoyed it as much as he did, because even if Kurt has incredible control of his voice and expression when he wants to there’s no way he could have faked the flush that spread down his chest or the countless other amazing ways his body reacted to Blaine’s touch, but just because it’s something they did doesn’t mean Blaine wants to make it sound like it’s something they do. Not that he doesn’t want to, that’s insane, when he’s alone it’s all he can think about, but -
“Blaine?” Kurt ask.
“Sorry,” Blaine replies. He takes a breath and pulls himself back to the conversation. “I’m here.”
“Would you rather we just rescheduled?” The question, which once would have come through with a measure of Kurt’s annoyance at being ignored actually sounds a little confused. Yet another difference.
“No,” Blaine says. “No, I’m sorry. I - “ He swallows. “My parents are going away again this weekend. They’ll be back on Monday. So if you wanted, you could come over here on Sunday.”
“Oh.” It’s apparently Kurt’s turn to grow silent.
“I’m not saying we have to do anything,” Blaine rushes to reassure him when Kurt doesn't say anything more. “We can still have the movie marathon. Or we can cook something; I know how passionately you feel about our cooktop. We can make something really complicated, and you can use all six burners at once. We don’t have to do anything.”
“I see.”
Blaine can’t read Kurt’s voice at all, and he doesn’t want Kurt to feel like he’s being in any way rejected over what had been such an amazing, emotional night. “Not that I don’t - I mean - You know I love you, and I think it’s pretty obvious that I think you’re really hot, so it’s not like I don’t want to, but it is totally fine if you don’t want to. Or we don’t want to, because it’s a decision for us both, right? But that’s not why I’m inviting you over. Not that we can’t, but I know you just stopped having to wear high collars to cover up the mark I left on your - Oh, god.“ Closing his eyes with mortification, he leans his elbow on his desk and lets his head fall heavily onto his hand. “We can go out. Maybe we should go out. Probably to a hospital so that they can do an MRI and make sure my brain is still functioning, because I don’t know why I can’t think straight. It’s up to you. We’ll do whatever you want. I will be happy with whatever you want. I promise.”
“Blaine?” Kurt asks, and there’s a lilt to his name like Kurt’s laughing at him.
“Yes?”
“I’ll come over.”
*
Kurt arrives late on Sunday, though he texts Blaine with plenty of warning (Carole just realized she knows nothing about setting a table for multiple courses. I’ll be 45 minutes late. xx). Blaine appreciates the text, but he’s faced with nearly an hour he didn’t expect to have.
He uses it to second-guess every decision he’s made: what’s in the pile of DVDs and blu-rays by the TV (is Kurt really going to like Trainspotting?), the fresh pasta and sauce he bought at the local produce market Kurt likes (Blaine probably should have picked the al’arabiatta sauce over the arugula pesto), the music on the playlist he made (too much Adele?), the outfit he’s wearing (Kurt will undoubtedly outshine Blaine’s jeans, cardigan, and t-shirt, and although Blaine wants to be comfortable he doesn’t want to look like he isn’t making an effort), the fresh sheets on the bed (does it look like he’s assuming they’ll be spending time in it?).
Somehow he manages not to lose his mind, though he does change his sweater to a different one that Kurt had complimented the week before. Then he changes it back, because the buttons are a weird shape and would dig into them both if they got in any way close to each other. Even if they don’t go anywhere near all the way again, he’d really like to be able to cuddle on the couch. He throws the cardigan over his chair and then realizes Kurt will yell at him if he sees it, so he picks it up, folds it carefully, and puts it away in his dresser.
Turning around, Blaine analyzes his bed and wonders if it looks too perfectly made, like it’s expecting a guest. He’s about to put a head-shaped dent in one of the pillows with his fist when he stops, laughs softly at himself, and rubs his hand over his face. Like Kurt doesn’t like a well-made bed just on its own merits; he’s always straightened the pillows after he’s sat on the bed when hanging out in Blaine’s room, even if he hasn’t touched them.
Blaine checks the clock. Kurt is now fifty minutes late, and Blaine feels like he’s going to crack if he has to wait too much longer. Once Kurt is here, it will all make sense, but now... now it all feels fraught with new meaning. It’s the first time they’ll be alone in private for any real length of time since they took this big new step, and as perfect as it was it’s changed the ground rules and expectations. Or maybe it hasn’t. Maybe it’ll just be the same as it always was, even though Blaine doesn’t know how that could be true if they don’t have to stop themselves anymore when their making out gets intense. Or they don’t have to stop themselves every time.
His body starting to thrum even with just the idea of not stopping, he turns away from his bed, unable to escape the memory of Kurt’s body against his so easily as he can where it had happened, and pads bare-footed downstairs to watch anxiously for Kurt’s car.
The hardest thing, Blaine thinks, is that he likes to know how he’s supposed to be acting. He really has no idea. It’ll be better when Kurt is there to figure it out with him.
A few minutes later, Kurt’s SUV finally turns into the driveway, and Blaine has the front door open before Kurt’s key is out of the ignition. Since he’s not wearing shoes, he waits in the doorway and starts to relax at the first sight of Kurt; he’s also dressed casually in jeans, a white shirt, and one of those asymmetric sweaters he’s been so passionate about recently, and at least Blaine made a good decision about his own clothes. A bow tie would be overkill.
“Hi,” Blaine says as Kurt comes up the walk.
“Promise me you do not need me to teach you how to fold a napkin into a flower,” Kurt replies. “Because they’re not as elegant as some people think, and it would also be far faster for me to do it myself.”
Blaine steps aside so Kurt can come into the house. “I do not need you to teach me how to fold a napkin into a flower. Or any other shape, actually, just in case you were worried.”
“That is the best news I’ve heard all day,” Kurt says, dropping his bag by the table in the entry and coming over to stand in front of him. Blaine holds out his arms, and Kurt steps into them, sighing and pressing his cheek against Blaine’s. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
“It’s okay. You’re here now.”
“Yes.” Kurt pulls back far enough to smile at him, and then his mouth is on Blaine’s and all of Blaine’s worries drop away. Who cares about pesto and movie selection when there’s kissing? It isn’t a long kiss, but it’s surprisingly thorough, and Blaine can feel the blood rushing through his veins when they separate. He takes a shaky breath. Kurt just smiles at him and steps away toward the kitchen. “Napkin-folding is thirsty work,” he hints when Blaine stands there looking at him instead of following.
“Would you like something to drink?” Blaine asks, remembering his manners.
“Thank you."
Blaine pulls two glasses from the cabinet and fixes them each a drink while Kurt leans against the counter and vents about what he considers to be the shortcomings of Carole’s dinner menu. He always likes listening to Kurt talk about things on his mind, whether good or bad, so it’s easy to hand Kurt his soda, lean next to him, and nod his agreement that shrimp cocktail, no matter how fresh the horseradish in the sauce, is decades out of date as a fashionable appetizer, even in Ohio.
“Of course, when I tried to point that out, Carole just told me that my dad liked it and that I should think of the menu as retro.” Kurt rolls his eyes. “I know the people supporting my dad probably agree with him about a lot of things, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t still be trying to lift them all - and himself - out of the ‘80s. It’s his duty as a public figure.”
“Given what you’ve told me about how Carole feels about acid-wash denim, do you think that’s even possible?” Blaine asks.
Kurt’s shoulders slump as he considers the question. “No.”
“It’s a nice idea, though,” Blaine says and gets a smile in return.
“Anyway,” Kurt says, setting his glass down, “at least I escaped.” He looks Blaine over from head to toe and smiles a little more. “And not an inch of acid-wash in sight.”
Blaine knows Kurt is teasing, but the proprietary way his eyes flick over him still makes the hair on his arms stand on end. It’s not exactly a sexual look, and yet there’s something comfortable and confident about it that Blaine really likes. “I don’t have any,” he says for lack of any better response popping up in his mind.
“And this is why I like you so much.”
“Because I don’t wear acid-wash?”
“Because you don’t own acid-wash,” Kurt corrects, his eyes glittering with humor. He trails the tips of his fingers along the collar of Blaine’s sweater. Blaine can barely feel the touch, but it still makes him hold his breath for a second. “This is much nicer.”
“I almost changed it for the red one you like,” Blaine tells him for no known reason. He’s starting to feel flustered, because Kurt’s flirting with him, just a little in his wonderful Kurt way, and he doesn’t know what to do with it. He doesn’t know what it means, whether it’s just them being them or it’s a prelude to more. He’s never wanted a road map for life more than he does in this minute.
Kurt tilts his head and studies Blaine’s face, but he rolls with it and says, “That one looks nice, too. But the buttons are uncomfortable.”
Blaine nods. “That’s what I thought.”
“Did you?” Kurt asks, raising an eyebrow, and Blaine freezes and feels like he’s been caught doing something really bad, like cheating on a test or drinking the milk directly from the container.
“Yes,“ he apologizes.
“Okay,” Kurt says with a sigh. He crosses his arms over his chest. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Blaine.”
Blaine fights the urge to scrub his hand through his hair and says, “I’m kind of not sure how to be acting.”
“May I suggest like yourself?”
“No, I mean this is just the first time we’ve been alone since our first time, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.” It’s hard to get the words out, but just saying them to Kurt makes Blaine feel better. Kurt will understand, or if he doesn’t he’ll ask the right question. Blaine’s not in this alone.
“My answer is still the same,” Kurt says more softly.
Blaine shakes his head. “I know. I know, Kurt, but I can’t seem to help it.” He looks across the kitchen for a few seconds before meeting Kurt’s eyes again. “I don’t want to do the wrong thing. I don’t want to assume, or push, or make you uncomfortable.”
“You aren’t.”
“I did,” Blaine says, and if there are parts of their night out with Sebastian that are blurry the memory of Kurt yelling at him in the car, hurt and upset, is as clear as day. The guilt he feels over it is similarly vivid.
Kurt takes a step closer, laying his hand on Blaine’s where it rests on the counter. “Blaine, we’re past that.”
“I don’t want to do it again.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach roil. He’s not supposed to be that kind of man. He’s supposed to be respectful. He’s supposed to know what he’s doing. He’s supposed to pay attention to and care for the person he loves. He's supposed to make everything as perfect as he possibly can. It doesn’t matter if he’s drinking or if he’s horny; he’s still supposed to be a good boyfriend, and the problem right now is that even though all he’s drinking is water he’s still aching to get his hands on Kurt. It’s threatening to drive every other thought out of his head.
“You won’t.”
“I don’t know that,” Blaine insists, distress he didn’t even know he was feeling bubbling up inside him like a geyser getting ready to erupt. “I thought I was a good boyfriend, but sometimes I’m not, and now everything’s different. I really, really don’t want to hurt you. You’re my best friend, and if I mess this up - ”
“You’re not going to,” Kurt tells him softly like he’s gentling a horse. He puts his other hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “It’s just us, Blaine. Last weekend, today, all of our months together, it’s all just us. Right?”
Blaine nods and lets himself get a little lost in Kurt’s eyes. It’s so easy to trust Kurt. He has no reason not to, and he really, really wants to believe him.
“So let’s just keep doing that, okay? We may have more options now about how we spend our time, but it’s still just us.” Kurt watches him carefully, and if he sounds a little like he’s convincing himself, too, that’s actually kind of reassuring.
Blaine nods again, inhaling slowly through his nose and letting the panic recede. “I’m sorry,” he says.
Kurt’s mouth twitches, and he looks a little embarrassed as he says, “Would you feel better if I told you I dithered for the better part of a half hour over whether I should wear my tall Docs or my short ones?”
“You do that every day,” Blaine says, confused.
“Okay, one, I never dither over clothing,” Kurt says. “I might contemplate my many options, but I don’t dither. And two, I wasn’t just thinking about which would look better with my outfit; I was thinking about whether the tall ones would be confusing for you if it came to you taking them off.”
Blaine looks down to find Kurt wearing his shorter, easier-to-remove Docs, which he has to take as a good sign for what they could get up to later on. Then he thinks about unzipping Kurt's knee-high boots and sliding them off his long, long legs, and he swallows hard. "I would be very okay with learning how."
Kurt's eyes darken. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."
Next time. Blaine’s breath catches as he is struck by the sudden realization that there can be a next time, and another next time, and a next time after that. If they’re both happy, soon they won’t have to think in terms of first, second, or fifth time together but just about doing what they want when they’re able.
“What?” Kurt asks. “You look like I just told you today is secretly Christmas. Are you that excited about my boots?”
“No. Well, yes, but no,” Blaine replies. “I just realized that we can do it again if we want to. There’s no limit on it. We can do it when we want.”
“Yes,” Kurt says slowly, like it isn’t a revelation to him. It probably isn’t; for all that Blaine is more likely to go find things out, Kurt is better at thinking things through.
The thought that they can do it again and again, that they’re now boyfriends-who-have-sex instead of boyfriends-who-are-losing-their-virginities-together, takes so much pressure off of Blaine’s shoulders that he feels dizzy with it. As long as he listens to Kurt - and one of the best parts about Kurt is that he is vocal about his feelings in a way that Blaine cannot ignore for long even at his worst - they can just enjoy figuring it out together. If they don’t like something, or if they really do, they can try again. Not every time has to be perfect, not now that the first time was so incredible and meaningful. Now they just get to enjoy it.
“Okay, that gleam in your eye is a little frightening,” Kurt says, taking a small step back.
Blaine steps forward to follow him, sure in a way he wasn’t even ten seconds ago. “No, it isn’t.”
Kurt smirks and turns so his back against the counter. “No, it isn’t.”
Placing his hands flat on the counter on either side of Kurt's hips, Blaine leans in and kisses him. It starts as just a soft press of the lips, his mouth brushing against Kurt’s smiling one. Their slow exploration only lasts a minute or two before fiery desire flares through Blaine at the reality having Kurt right there with him. It’s always been that way since they started dating, but now it’s a hundred times more intense. He wants him. Their mouths are the only place they're touching, but it doesn’t matter. He tilts his head and kisses Kurt with all of his need, trying to taste as much of him as he can.
Kurt doesn’t retreat. Instead he kisses right back and makes a soft, needy sound that Blaine can't help but echo, and Blaine curls his bare toes against the wooden floor as the noise reverberates through him. He presses his fingers into the granite countertop to keep from touching Kurt. He wants to touch him, wants to tangle his fingers in Kurt’s hair and wrap his arms around his waist to pull him in tight, but not touching him beyond the kiss is driving him crazy in a way he really likes. It’s like a tease, but it’s a tease with the promise of more, because Kurt never (almost never, a small, shamed part of his mind reminds him) says no to Blaine touching him. So Blaine doesn’t have to; he can focus on Kurt’s mouth, on the breathy whimpers escaping from his own throat, and go a little crazy thinking about what it will be like touching more of him when he just can’t stand not to anymore.
Kurt is the first to give in, but then he’s unaware of the game Blaine is playing with himself. There’s a fine tremor running through Kurt’s hand as he fits it to Blaine’s cheek, and he softens the kiss. His fingers are gentle and warm on Blaine’s face and throat. It doesn’t really help the fire in Blaine’s veins, but he doesn’t fight it when Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s shoulders and draws his head back a few inches.
He’s flushed and breathing fast, but he’s smiling. Blaine smiles back, wider than he would have expected, but he doesn’t try to stop himself. “You seem to be feeling better,” Kurt says with a bit of a question in it.
“Yes,” Blaine replies. He gives in and lets his hands move to Kurt’s hips, so warm and right compared to the granite. “I should always listen to you.”
“Yes, you should.” Kurt’s eyes drift to Blaine’s mouth for a second, and then his smile turns wry and self-mocking.
Blaine suffers a moment’s indecision, because just because they’d been kissing like that, as hot as it was, didn’t mean that they were going to -
“Blaine,” Kurt interrupts his train of thought. His voice is a little higher and breathier than usual, but he looks calm and sure when Blaine looks up at him. “I would like to go upstairs with you. If you want to. It’s fine if you don’t.”
“I do,” Blaine insists; if there’s anything he knows it’s that. His hands tighten on Kurt’s hips, like he might run away now that he’s made the offer. “Of course I do. I love you. And I’m insanely attracted to you, in case that wasn’t obvious by now.”
Kurt tilts his head in acknowledgement, but he still says, “It’s always nice to hear. And it’s mutual.”
Taking a steadying breath, Blaine manages to pry his fingers from Kurt’s jeans and takes his hand to walk upstairs. His heart is thundering, and all of the blood is leaving his brain, but Kurt’s hand makes it all very okay. Kurt makes everything okay.
Blaine would like to think of himself as the one who knows what he’s doing, but he isn’t so blind to reality that he doesn’t know it’s Kurt who does most of the hard work. Kurt puts himself out there again and again and again for Blaine, and it isn’t because Blaine has never rejected him. Kurt just does it, anyway, because that’s the way he is. It’s staggering.
“How are you always the brave one?” he asks as they reach the landing.
“Well, this cute boy texted me the word courage, and I guess I took it to heart.”
“You were already brave. I was an idiot.”
Kurt doesn’t argue, but he does squeeze Blaine’s hand. “You were still cute.”
Blaine laughs and feels his heart constrict with the enormity of his feelings - the love he has for Kurt, the embarrassment for himself, the warmth for the two of them being together. They just feel right. It feels even better to know that he doesn’t have to keep them all inside and unexpressed.
As soon as they reach his room, Blaine closes the door and steers Kurt against it, kissing him hard, just because he can. Startled, Kurt laughs into his mouth but lets him. He grabs onto Blaine’s sweater and melts against the door as Blaine presses against him from knee to chest. Kurt feels so good, so firm and welcoming at once, and Blaine goes a little fuzzy as he gives into the urge to run his hands up Kurt’s sides under his sweater and drag his mouth along Kurt’s jaw.
“Blaine,” Kurt gasps as Blaine sucks on a spot just beneath his ear. He’s careful not to leave a mark, but he doesn’t want to be. He doesn’t want to hold back at all. Kurt’s hands clench on Blaine’s shoulders, and he makes another sound Blaine can’t categorize. It doesn’t sound unhappy, but -
It takes a some effort, but he lifts his head to check. Kurt’s eyes are heavy-lidded and dazed, his cheeks already pink, and Blaine watches the line of his throat as Kurt swallows.
“Too much?” Blaine asks with a flare of concern, because they’d taken things so much slower the last time.
Kurt shakes his head. “No. It’s fine.”
Blaine can’t stop the laugh that bursts out of him. “Fine? Wow, Kurt. Please, my ego can’t stand such praise.“
“What do you want me to say?” Kurt says a little more sharply, pushing himself up the door to his full height. “That I’m not sure we’re going to make it the ten feet to the bed if you keep that up?”
The mental images that inspires, of pulling off their clothes right there and giving into the hunger driving them, makes Blaine’s throat tighten. His jeans, too, because fuck.
“Too much?” Kurt asks with false sweetness. There is amusement dancing in his eyes.
“It’s fine,” Blaine replies hoarsely, and Kurt grins at him.
“Come with me.” Kurt pulls Blaine with him toward the bed and sits on its edge. When he leans down to untie his boots, though, Blaine guides his hands away.
“Let me,” Blaine says and gives into the image Kurt had placed in his head earlier. He kneels down in front of Kurt and pats his own thigh. “Let me.”
Kurt watches him with wide eyes for a second before extending his foot and putting it on Blaine’s leg. “Just loosen the laces; you don’t need to unthread them.”
The boots aren’t really tricky to undo, but Blaine watches his fingers as he unties the laces and pulls them loose. He’s never taken Kurt’s shoes off before, and though he doesn’t have a foot fetish he’s beginning to think he has an undressing-Kurt fetish. He can hear his breath rasping in his throat just from this much. He gets to do this. Kurt’s letting him do it.
Kurt’s face is serious when Blaine looks up at him, and his eyes darken as he slips his foot out and Blaine cups his ankle and caresses up his calf before letting go and placing the boot out of the way on the floor. He glances down at Blaine’s hands and moistens his lower lip with the tip of his tongue when he focuses back on Blaine’s face.
They repeat the process, this time not looking away from each other, and Blaine kneels up as soon as he’s placed Kurt’s second shoe beside its mate and dropped Kurt’s socks on top of them. He rests his hands on Kurt’s thighs and closes his eyes as Kurt cups his face in both hands and peppers kisses across his cheekbones before finding his mouth once more.
“There’s nothing about you I don’t like,” Kurt murmurs against his lips, and Blaine surprises himself with his own whimper at how good that feels to hear.
He follows as Kurt slides up the bed, crawling up over him, but before Kurt can lie back Blaine gets his hands on the hem of Kurt’s sweater. “Can I?” he asks, and when Kurt nods Blaine helps him pull it over his head. Blaine’s first thought is to drop it off the side of his bed and put his hands back on Kurt, but he can see Kurt’s eyes flicking down to the garment in his hands, so instead Blaine folds the sweater neatly and puts it on his bedside table. The approval in Kurt’s eyes makes the extra seconds not touching him worth it.
It makes Blaine want to promise to take care of everything Kurt holds dear, but he’s pretty sure he tries to promise that every day in everything he does.
“Yours, too,” Kurt says, and he flicks open the buttons of Blaine’s cardigan and pushes it off his shoulders with a lot less ceremony.
That sweater Blaine tosses off the bed without a second look, and then he lowers himself over Kurt. This part is easy and familiar, kissing and touching at length with most of their clothes on, though not having to worry about going to far too fast when they start rocking together is a heady new freedom. Blaine gets his hand in Kurt’s hair and kisses him hard when their hips align in just the right way.
“Off, off, off,” Kurt tells him, tugging at Blaine’s shirt when they break apart to breathe, and that’s new, too, pushing quickly through what used to be one of their last boundaries before they had to stop themselves. But there’s no reason not to, now, and Blaine’s grinning with new-found joy as Kurt gets his shirt over his head.
“You look very pleased with yourself,” Kurt says.
Blaine kisses beneath Kurt’s jaw and starts to attack the ten thousand tiny buttons that run down the front of Kurt’s shirt. “I am. I really, really am.”
Kurt arches under him as Blaine follows the path of his fingers with his mouth. “Oh. I can see why,” he says breathlessly. The buttons slip free quickly and easily, which may explain why Kurt thought this was an appropriate shirt to wear for their date, and soon he’s kissing down the trembling muscles of Kurt’s stomach and pulling the edges of the shirt apart. Kurt sits up halfway to help, and then they’re both shirtless and crashing back into each other.
There’s so much of Kurt’s skin right there to touch, and Blaine makes the most of it, skimming his hands along Kurt’s sides and shoulders, pressing his fingers into Kurt’s back when they roll onto their sides, still kissing. Kurt hums his approval that Blaine doesn’t fight the change in position, and he hooks a leg over Blaine’s knee to keep them together as he mouths down Blaine’s throat and along his shoulder.
It’s so good. It’s so good, and Blaine just goes with it. He kisses and touches and rolls his hips harder to alleviate and exacerbate the ache when he can’t stand it anymore, and Kurt moves with him, just like he always does. Except now Blaine knows they don’t have to stop. They don’t have to be careful. They can just keep going.
Kurt’s hand skims down Blaine’s stomach, and Blaine groans into Kurt’s mouth, because he knows where it’s heading. He hopes he knows where it’s heading, and when Kurt’s fingers linger at his waist, Blaine groans again, desperate and disappointed.
“Can I touch you?” Kurt asks in a whisper against Blaine’s jaw.
“You don't have to ask,” Blaine assures him.
Kurt shrugs his shoulder and doesn’t move his hand. “Maybe I like to hear you say yes.”
Blaine pulls back so that he can look into Kurt’s eyes, because he knows this is serious even if he can’t understand all of why this very second. “Yes.”
Kurt smiles and glances to the side like he’s suddenly shy, but his hand slips lower to cup Blaine’s erection through his jeans. Blaine can’t think anymore. He just closes his eyes and whimpers, sinking into the pleasure of his touch. He wants more than just the vagueness of warm fingers through denim, but because he knows it will happen he can enjoy the press and squeeze, the tease of the touch despite its firmness. He can focus on the surge of his arousal without worrying about chasing it higher, because he knows he’ll get there. He can wait and enjoy every bit of it.
It becomes difficult for Blaine to track Kurt’s every movement, so focused is he on the haze of what he’s feeling, but the press of his fingers and the heat of his breath and lips on Blaine’s throat are driving him wild, and he gets his own hand between them to feel Kurt in return, because wants to, because Kurt wants him to, because he can. Kurt’s as hard as he is, and his hand flexes and tightens helplessly against Blaine when Blaine touches him.
“I want - Kurt, can I - ?” Blaine asks, and he knows he’s forgotten half of the words that should have been in the request, but Kurt somehow understands.
“Please,” Kurt says, starting to pull at the button of Blaine’s jeans as Blaine works at Kurt’s.
Kurt’s hand feels as good as Blaine remembers as he slips it into Blaine’s underwear and wraps his long, smooth fingers around him. Hampered by the tightness of Kurt’s own jeans, it takes Blaine a few seconds more to return the favor, and his hand is already clumsy with arousal when he touches Kurt’s erection.
“Oh,” Kurt breathes, and he shifts to get his free hand on Blaine’s face and kisses him until Blaine’s dizzy with lack of oxygen as much as Kurt’s firm strokes.
Blaine whimpers and tries to pull himself together, because as good as Kurt’s hand feels on him Kurt feels that much more amazing in his hand, but just like the last time it’s so, so hard to focus when Kurt’s touching him. He knows in about five seconds he’s going to be beyond caring about that, and they’re going to come from this again not long after. He won’t be sorry, but there’s so much more he wants.
He pushes on Kurt’s shoulder to tip him onto his back, and Kurt whines a little in protest until Blaine’s leaning up over him and kissing at his jaw and throat. “Can I try something?” he asks, not above stroking Kurt harder to urge him to agree.
Kurt makes a vague but inquiring noise, and he blinks two or three times before he manages to focus on Blaine’s face.
“I want to blow you. I want to try.”
“You want to - Are you sure?” Kurt asks with obvious surprise, his own hand stilling.
“Yes.” Blaine lets him go, gently pulls Kurt’s hand out of his jeans, and presses a kiss to his palm. It’s a little damp, it’s a little damp from him, and Blaine’s cock twitches at how hot that is. “I’ve been thinking about it. A lot.” He doesn’t mention how it’s kind of taken over his masturbatory fantasies all week, because he’s not sure if Kurt will think that’s arousing or just creepy. He kisses Kurt’s shoulder and rubs Kurt’s hip, waiting for an answer. He tries not to anticipate being rejected.
Kurt watches him with hazy, vaguely worried eyes before saying, “Okay. If you’re sure.”
Blaine surges up and kisses him. “I might be really bad at it,” he admits. It seems only fair.
“I’m pretty sure I’m not going to care,” Kurt says faintly, touching Blaine’s face with obvious affection.
Blaine’s still smiling as he works his way down Kurt’s body and tugs at his jeans. He waits for Kurt’s nod of approval before sliding them off his legs with his underwear and shimmying out of the rest of his own clothes. And then Kurt’s there, naked in his bed, and any butterflies Blaine might have seem insignificant in the face of his desire.
He really has no idea what he’s doing, because he knows he’s about the farthest thing from a porn star Ohio has to offer, but as he gets his hand around Kurt’s dick and settles down next to him he decides it probably doesn’t matter. It’s Kurt. His mouth is watering just thinking about him, and whatever he does or doesn’t do, Kurt will be okay. Kurt will make sure they’re both okay.
“Tell me if I’m doing something wrong,” Kurt says, rubbing his palm over Blaine’s shoulder.
Blaine looks up at him, surprised by the thought. “You can’t do anything wrong.”
“I could - I don’t know, I could choke you or move or not move or - “ There’s an edge of hysteria creeping into Kurt’s voice.
“Or you could just tell me what you like and let me do more of it,” Blaine tells him and presses a kiss to the base of Kurt’s erection. Kurt shudders from head to toe, but he stops talking, which Blaine is going to take as a positive sign.
Blaine breathes in for a second and then runs his closed mouth along Kurt’s length. It feels so hot and alive against his lips, and yet he doesn’t know what he should do. He feels like an idiot, but he’s been thinking about this so much he can’t come up with a plan on what he wants to do, so he just tries to shut off his brain before it paralyzes him and tries to listen to Kurt’s body. He can do that. He can listen to Kurt. It suddenly all becomes easy, and he can start slowly because he knows Kurt’s as overwhelmed as he is.
So he smooths his hand over Kurt’s thigh and lets himself explore. He kisses and licks, rubs his lips over the slick head, and strokes him with a gentle rhythm as Kurt tenses and relaxes with each new movement. He listens to the choked sounds Kurt’s making in his throat and licks up the length of him to see if he can coax out a proper moan. When it works, Blaine does it again, longer and wetter, and Kurt’s leg flexes beneath his hand.
“Good?” Blaine asks. “Tell me, Kurt.”
“It’s good. It’s good,” Kurt says, the words coming out in a husky jumble. “Oh my god, Blaine.”
Blaine grins with pride and lets the rest of his worries go. He doesn’t try for anything sophisticated, but when he gets the head of Kurt’s dick into his mouth and sucks the whine Kurt makes is enough to make Blaine’s own erection twitch. He knows he has a lot to learn, but he’s going to love it. He doesn’t know if he likes the taste yet, and the stretch of his lips and jaw is new and different, but it’s amazing. Feeling Kurt harden even more on his tongue, feeling his hips shake with the tension of staying still, hearing Kurt’s breathing grow ever more harsh and fast is the best kind of reward for trying. He’s really doing this. He’s really doing this with Kurt.
Blaine sucks harder, and Kurt’s hips hitch upward, pushing his cock deeper into Blaine’s mouth. It’s nowhere near enough to choke him, though he’s nervous enough that the surprise stills his movements for a moment, but the way Kurt had felt sliding over Blaine’s tongue was also shockingly arousing. It’s a revelation, yet another reminder that being gay isn’t just a theory in his head but an actual, real thing he is and wants to be. He wants this.
“Sorry, sorry,” Kurt says. He shifts like he’s trying to move away. “Oh my god, Blaine, I’m so sorry.”
“No, no,” Blaine says, and he can barely lift his mouth away to say that much because fuck he really is going to like doing this for the rest of his life, he can just tell, if he can make Kurt’s body react this way from it. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet, but it’s okay.”
Kurt reaches down and strokes his hand through Blaine’s hair, and the affection in the gesture makes Blaine want to purr and rub his face against Kurt’s hip.
“Tell me what you like,” he says instead. “Please. Tell me.” He drops his head and listens as he goes back to exploring just what he can do.
“Like that,” Kurt gasps when Blaine starts to suck. “That,” when Blaine licks around the head. “Blaine,” when Blaine gets a good rhythm going with his mouth and hand, and he presses his hand to Kurt’s stomach to try to remind him not to thrust, because the way he’s moving is like a closed circuit with his own erection rubbing against the sheets, and he doesn’t want to break the amazing feedback loop.
But all too soon Kurt’s hand is scrabbling at Blaine’s head and shoulder. “Blaine. Blaine!”
Blaine pulls off, breathing hard, and he licks his lips as he meets Kurt’s eyes.
Kurt’s propped up on his elbows, his eyes as dark as Blaine’s ever seen them, and he says with absolute wonder in a voice thick with arousal, “You like this?”
“I really do,” Blaine admits, because it’s not like he can hide it. Maybe he should, but right now he doesn’t see why.
He lowers his mouth and licks slowly up Kurt’s dick again, just to prove his point.
Shutting his eyes tightly, Kurt whimpers and bites his lip like he’s trying to control himself, and he grabs Blaine’s shoulder as his cock throbs in his grasp. And then he’s flinging his head back, falling to the sheets, and coming in spurts over Blaine’s hand and his own stomach. It is about the hottest thing Blaine has ever seen, because not only is Kurt beautiful but Blaine made him do that. Blaine made him fall apart like that.
Blaine eases him through his orgasm and then gets up onto one elbow beside him so that he can kiss the corner of Kurt’s slack mouth. He’s glad that Kurt needs a moment to pull himself together, because he’s so overwhelmed with gratitude on top of his own desire to come that he’s not sure he can form words. He did that. He gets to do this. He gets to try new things and touch Kurt everywhere and make him come, and it’s incredible.
“Oh my god, Blaine,” Kurt says. He laughs and blinks his eyes open, and he smiles when he sees Blaine there.
“Thank you,” Blaine says.
Kurt shakes his head and rubs his thumb over Blaine’s lower lip. It feels swollen, and he doesn’t care. “I think that’s my line.”
“No.”
“Really?” Kurt licks his own lip and says, “I guess I’ll have to try for myself.”
Everything goes white in front of Blaine’s eyes. Did he just mean - ?
“If you want me to,” Kurt says more softly, and Blaine kisses him in reply. It’s hard and needy, desperate and eager, completely grateful for him, for him being there, for him being willing to try new things with Blaine, for wanting to. He knows it’s a lot to give someone who just had an orgasm, but Blaine can’t stop. He can’t. He wants him, he wants all of this with him. He wants it so much.
When Kurt gets his hand on Blaine’s ass and pulls him close Blaine finds he’s so wound up and close to his own release that he all he can do thrust a few times against the knob of his hip and let himself shatter into a million pieces.
*
Blaine wakes up some time later, warm with Kurt’s chest beneath his cheek and the blankets over them. He remembers cleaning them up with his shirt but not drifting to asleep; he squints at the clock beyond Kurt and is happy to see that only an hour or so has passed. He doesn’t want to waste Kurt’s visit sleeping, although it’s really nice to wake up all tangled together with him. He could get used to it, if only he had the opportunity.
He becomes aware as he blinks the room into focus that Kurt’s fingers are drifting softly through his hair, and Blaine smiles and presses a kiss to the skin rising and falling beneath his mouth. Kurt’s touch is so sweet and comforting, and Blaine appreciates just how nice it is now that he’s not overwhelmed with his own need.
He lifts his head so that he can see Kurt’s face, but he’s careful not to dislodge his hand. “Sorry for falling asleep on you,” he says, because Kurt’s eyes are clear like he’s been awake a while.
“Don’t be. It was nice,” Kurt replies, and when Blaine smiles at him he smiles back warmly.
Blaine props himself up on his elbow and drinks in the way Kurt’s eyes crinkle when he’s happy, the way his hair is a complete mess and he doesn’t seem to mind, the way he seems unselfconscious about the fact that they’re both naked beneath the covers.
“So,” Kurt says after they look at each other for a little while.
“So.”
Kurt trails his fingers down Blaine’s neck to his shoulder. He seems relaxed and content as he follows the movement of his hand with his eyes. “So this is something we do now.”
“Yes.” Blaine watches him and hopes that he’s reading Kurt correctly. “Is that still okay?”
“I’ve been thinking about that while you were asleep,” Kurt says, and though he doesn’t sound upset Blaine still tenses a little. “Stop it. Of course it’s okay.”
“There’s no ‘of course’, Kurt.”
Kurt hums thoughtfully before asking, “Then, is it still okay with you?”
“Yes,” Blaine tells him. “I’m happy, and not just because it feels really good. Though it does.”
Laughing, Kurt says, “It does.”
“But I’m really happy because I get to do it with you,” Blaine finishes. He knows it sounds corny, but he hopes Kurt will understand.
Kurt brushes the backs of his fingers against Blaine’s cheek in a gentle touch. “I know. Me, too.” He says it so simply, but the open truth in the words make Blaine’s heart soar.
Blaine gives him a soft kiss and basks in the smile it earns him.
Then Kurt’s eyes spark with humor, and he lifts his eyebrows and says, “Although I feel like I was lured here under false pretenses.”
“Oh?”
“As lovely as you are, I was promised Ewan McGregor.”
Blaine grins. “I’m sure he’s around somewhere.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Maybe his flight’s delayed.”
“Hmm, what shall we do until he gets here?”
“Well, I am kind of tired,” Blaine says and flops onto his back beside Kurt.
“Really,” Kurt drawls, rolling to lean over him, and Blaine hears him choke back a laugh when he ostentatiously closes his eyes and yawns. Kurt pulls the covers back and drags his fingers in a slow, tickling glide down Blaine's chest and stomach.
Blaine doesn’t know if they’re going to make love again or if Kurt’s just teasing, and if they do if it’ll count as a new time or just a continuation of what came before, but he’s really happy that he’s getting the opportunity to lose count.
As full of meaning and new things as any given time might be, it’s just something they do now.
And every bit of everything they do together is incredible.