Warnings: Fisting, felching, rimming, spanking
Word Count: 6,248
Summary: College roomie AU in which Blaine is obsessed with Kurt's ass, Kurt is kind of slutty, and this author lives vicariously through Kurt's shoe collection.
Author’s Note: From this prompt on the kink meme. Now polished up and beta-approved! Thank you betteroffapart
Every morning, Blane wakes up to Kurt’s ass in his face.
The only space in their tiny dorm room where Kurt can roll out his yoga mat is on the floor between their beds, which means that Blaine’s alarm always goes off while Kurt is in downward facing dog and the first thing he sees when he rolls over to shut it off is that ass. It’s not enough for Kurt to position himself so his backside is always pointed toward Blaine, no, he has to go and cover that ridiculously toned ass with yoga pants-- tight in the butt and loose everywhere else. As if Blaine’s eyes need more incentive to hone in on just one part of Kurt’s body, like he’s some sexual predator and not just a voyeuristic roommate.
Kurt exhales and transitions into another pose. Blaine doesn’t know what it’s called because he only bothered to learn the names of the dirty ones. The movement shifts Kurt’s shirt up, exposing his lower back, and Blaine swallows thickly. Kurt doesn’t play fair, when it comes down to it. He layers himself up for the rest of the world, but after a year and a half spent getting to know his roommate, Kurt’s comfortable enough to hang around the room practically naked. Blaine’s not complaining about the level of comfort they have with each other, because the coincidence of being roomed with the only other gay guy in their building is such a relief for both of them, but he wishes Kurt’s lounge clothes weren’t so goddamn provocative. Blaine really doesn’t think his boxers and old band t-shirts are anywhere near as seductive as Kurt’s colored briefs and tightly-fitted deep v-necks. They’re all worn soft and practically transparent, too, so Blaine knows exactly how big Kurt’s nipples are and how they look in the cold, all tight and peaked and--
There’s a reason Blaine showers in the morning, and it’s currently staring up at him from that weird snake pose.
“Morning,” Kurt breathes softly, exhaling and inhaling in a perfect cycle. “Playing hooky today?”
Blaine groans and pulls the blankets over his head. There’s no way he can make it to the showers without Kurt seeing his erection. Kurt laughs softly and goes back to his routine. Blaine waits until Kurt hits the pose that makes him curl up and tuck his face down before he jumps out of bed and sprints down the hall, holding his shower caddy in front of his crotch.
“Which one?” Kurt is holding two black bow-ties in front of his collar, switching his hands back and forth rapidly while he raises an eyebrow at Blaine.
“How mad would you be if I said I couldn’t see a difference?” Blaine asks after a long moment of staring between the two. When the red pants are involved, Blaine can’t focus on much else, including the book he’s trying to read while Kurt gets dressed for his date. Kurt’s face softens, turning from anxious to fond as he walks over to Blaine to give him a closer look.
“This one’s matte; this one has a subtle sheen and a herringbone weave to the fabric.” Up close, Kurt’s skin practically glows. Blaine can’t stop staring at the sweep of his eyelashes, the adorable upturn of his nose, his perfect pores, his lips--which are looking suspiciously wet--
“Are you wearing lip gloss?” Blaine blurts out. Kurt folds his lips inwards and presses them together, turning away.
“I’ll take it off. I was just testing it out.” He sounds both defensive and sad, like he hoped Blaine would like it despite expecting him not to. Blaine has to close his eyes to stop himself from staring at Kurt’s ass in those pants long enough to form sentences.
“No, hey, I like it. It looks good on you, I just. Hadn’t seen you wear it before, is all.”
“Okay.” Kurt smiles softly and jiggles the bow-ties at him again.
“I’d say the shiny one, but what boots are you wearing? You are wearing boots, right?”
Kurt snorts. “Am I wearing boots. Blaine, really, I thought you knew me.” That’s when Kurt drops to his knees in front of his bed and leans forward, practically crawling underneath it as he fishes out the right meticulously labeled shoebox. His thighs shift as he moves, the muscles in his ass tensing and flexing, and Blaine audibly whimpers. Those fucking pants. Really, though, in that position Kurt’s ass looks amazing no matter what is covering it, and Blaine sends thanks to the gods of unintentional porn for the fact that Kurt is forced to wiggle around like that at least once a day while he picks out his shoes.
“Stop staring at my ass,” Kurt calls out playfully, finally crawling backwards enough to stand back up and face Blaine, clutching a giant box protectively to his chest. It’s become a joke between them, and Blaine hates that Kurt knows and thinks it’s funny-- cute, he’d even called it-- instead of maybe reciprocating with his own obsession over one of Blaine’s body parts. His dick, for example. His dick would be happy to have Kurt fixated on it.
“The Ann Ds?” Blaine asks, recognizing the box that Kurt decorated especially to house his Ann Demeulemeester F/W ‘08 triple lace boots (the flat black ones, because even though Kurt has confessed to coveting the oxblood talon-heeled version even more, there are some lines he isn’t ready to cross in every day wear, and heels are one of them). Blaine had been the one to lend him the money when a pair in his size had appeared on eBay last year, and Kurt usually saves them for special occasions.
“Do you think hot waiter Matt will appreciate them?”
“Not as much as I do,” Blaine says, with just a hint too much honest longing. He clears his throat and hopes Kurt didn’t notice. “The shiny one, to match the patent. I was going to say matte if you pulled out the canvas ones.”
“And there you go, ruining your intelligent opinion with a dumb one. Canvas fold-over boots to a dinner date? Do I shop at Hot Topic?”
“Um, aren’t those bondage shorts--”
“Online, Blaine! Online. And it will never happen again.” Kurt sits on his bed in a huff but melts into happiness as he opens the box and reverently unwraps his boots, pulling them on and zipping them up with a little moan. “Oh, it’s been too long,” he coos, petting the leather.
Blaine feels like he should find this side of Kurt obnoxious, but mostly he thinks it’s adorable. Kurt hums as he slips the bow-tie Blaine suggested around his neck, deft fingers tying it effortlessly. Kurt’s hands are sexy, too, but while he’d love to feel those hands touching him, he positively wants to worship Kurt’s ass.
Kurt comes back early.
“Hey.” Blaine closes his laptop and takes off his glasses, rubbing his eyes before slipping them back on. “No lovin’? You know I would’ve given you the room if you needed it.” Kurt does know, because he’s taken advantage of it more times than is probably polite. He always reminds Blaine that he’ll return the favor, but Blaine doesn’t need an empty room because Blaine doesn’t do hook ups. Kurt teases him about it, sometimes, because isn’t that what college is for? Sleeping around and finding out what you like?
Blaine already knows what he likes, though, and it pretty much looks like Kurt.
Dragging his feet to Blaine’s side of the room, Kurt faceplants on the bed next to him. Blaine would normally complain about having shoes on his bed, but Kurt’s shoes are cleaner than most people’s socks.
“That bad?” Blaine sets his laptop on his desk, leaning far over Kurt to reach, and Kurt takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around Blaine’s waist and snuggle in. Blaine rubs a comforting hand over his back and waits for Kurt to weave a story about his terrible night. This is how it always goes: Kurt comes home either flushed and sated or disgusted with the human condition. He raves about his own sexual prowess and complains about his partner’s dick size or lack of stamina. There’s hardly ever a second date, but if there is it undoubtedly ends in Kurt finding some infinitesimal detail about the guy to be so disturbing he will never get over it. Blaine never understands, it’s always something dumb like the guy wore Target underwear or his flat sheet didn’t match the fitted one; once, it was because the otherwise perfect man’s roommate had a Nickelback poster.
(“I couldn’t get it up, Blaine. I literally lost my sex drive when I noticed it.”
“It was his roommate’s poster, oh my god, it’s not like he put on their album to set the mood. What is wrong with you?”
“I tried to jack off in the shower and all I could hear was that photograph song, Blaine, that date caused me to require therapy. And probably Viagra. I’m never going on a second date again.”)
Right now is different. Kurt isn’t gleefully tearing apart Matt-the-hot-waiter’s outfit or making fun of his vocabulary. He’s actually shaking.
“Kurt?” Blaine cups the back of Kurt’s head and Kurt just clutches tighter, hands fisting in the back of Blaine’s college sweatshirt. “Honey, what did he do? Did he hurt you?”
Kurt’s reply is lost, muffled in the fabric of the sweatshirt. Blaine pushes at his shoulders until Kurt pulls back, wiping at his eyes and keeping his face turned down. “I said, not physically. He was just a total asshole. He told me my boots were creepy, Blaine. He insulted the Ann Ds.” Blaine makes a sympathetic noise and Kurt rolls away from him, settling on his stomach and hugging Blaine’s pillow. “He said that when he came up behind me tonight he literally mistook me for a girl.” Kurt’s voice has gone soft and his eyes are still teary when he peers at Blaine over the edge of the pillow. “He said it like I’d think it was funny. I know I have pear hips--”
“You do not have pear hips, Kurt,” Blaine says quickly, resting his hand on Kurt’s lower back and rubbing soothing circles. “Douchebag Matt must be blind, what the fuck.”
“I shouldn’t have worn these pants, my butt looks huge in them and it just emphasizes how skinny the rest of me is.”
“You like being thin. And shut up about your butt, you know it’s amazing. You didn’t do anything wrong, Kurt, this only reflects on him. You have like, a porn star ass. People would pay to look at this ass.” Blaine punctuates his statement with a sharp smack, and Kurt yelps in surprise. Blaine automatically pets him in apology, and it’s not until a minute passes in silence that Blaine realizes he is stroking Kurt’s ass like a total creeper. Blaine snatches his hand back like Kurt’s ass is physically burning him-- which it kind of is, all the time, burning into his retinas so it’s all he sees when he closes his eyes.
Kurt’s voice is so quiet Blaine has to replay the sentence twice in his head before he comprehends it.
“You don’t have to stop.”
“Kurt.” Blaine’s hands move like they’re magnetized, one on each cheek, stroking over the fabric of his pants and kneading just a little. He runs a thumb down the center seam of Kurt’s pants, pressing it hard into the cleft, and Kurt moans, pushing up into his touch. Blaine takes a steady breath, not taking his eyes off the motion of his hands as they knead harder, squeezing. “This isn’t a hook up for me.”
“I know,” Kurt says, already sounding wrecked and breathless. “I would never want that from you, you’re my best friend and I love you too much to fuck up what we have because I’m... horny. God, what a stupid word, you know what I mean.” Kurt wriggles and Blaine spanks him again. He stills instantly.
“You have never, ever, given me any indication that you’re attracted to me," Blaine says softly. "I thought sex was all you wanted, no strings attached and no feelings.”
“I tell you you’re attractive all the time!” Kurt whines, “and stop making me sound so slutty. You never talk about sex, whenever I try to talk to you about it you change the subject.” Blaine lands another blow, much harder than the last two, and Kurt gasps. “Blaine--”
“I change the subject because I don’t want to hear about what you let other guys do to you. You give so much of yourself away and I hate it, it shouldn’t be like that. It should be me, Kurt. We could be so good together.” Blaine's voice cracks a little, the feelings he never wants to talk about bubbling to the surface, and he's terrified that Kurt will suggest they become friends with benefits or something equally soul crushing.
“Yes,” Kurt chokes out, pushing back into Blaine’s hand. “I’m yours, Blaine, please. Anything you want.”
"I want everything." Blaine squeezes Kurt's hips and tries to get himself under control, feeling too desperate for what he hopes is only the beginning. "Unbuckle your belt." Kurt lifts his hips up without hesitation, reaching beneath himself to fumble open the buckle and his fly. Blaine grabs the waistband and pulls hard, yanking his pants and briefs down together. It's not until they stop at the top of his boots that Blaine realizes he should have gone for the footwear first.
"Ow!" Kurt hisses, like the boots are a physical part of him. "Don't you dare hurt my boots." He twists around on the bed to reach for them, but Blaine stops him with a hard smack across the top of his bare ass. The sound is unexpectedly loud and Kurt stills, looking startled, so Blaine spanks him a few more times, surprised by how much he likes the sting in his hand and the reddening of Kurt’s ass.
"I've got it, baby." Blaine refrains from anymore spanking and undoes the boot zippers with much less reverence than Kurt used getting them on, pulling them off and dropping them to the floor. The socks follow, and then those sinful red pants and tight briefs (black today, made of soft bamboo). "I'm going to make you forget about everyone else, Kurt." Blaine skims his hands up Kurt's legs, from his bony ankles over his muscled calves, pausing to press a kiss to the soft skin at the inside of his knee. Kurt huffs out a breathy laugh and spreads his legs wider, like he has no shame in exposing himself. Blaine knows that Kurt has lost count of how many boys have seen him like this, which probably does make Kurt pretty slutty, but Blaine doesn’t care anymore, not when he knows he’s the only one who gets to do this from now on.
Blaine presses harder, dragging his palms up the nearly hairless backs of Kurt's thighs, rubbing in slow and tantalizing circles as he approaches the globes of Kurt's perfect ass. The spread of Kurt's legs and the motion of his hands pull Kurt's cheeks apart, and all Blaine can do is stare. Kurt’s constant sharing of TMI means Blaine knows that Kurt is always immaculately clean and moisturized everywhere, and that while he doesn’t have much hair down there he shaves what he does have. The skin is smooth and soft, the same creamy color as the rest of Kurt's body. Only his hole is colored differently, a dusty pink that Blaine can't stop himself from leaning forward and kissing. Kurt jerks forward at the unexpected feeling of Blaine's lips, the puckered ring quivering involuntarily as Blaine opens his mouth and kisses hot and wet all over Kurt's asshole.
"Fuck, Blaine," Kurt moans, pulling his legs up and shifting so he's kneeling, his upper body planted on the bed. It gives Blaine better access, his hands quickly spreading Kurt's cheeks apart so he can run his tongue from behind Kurt's balls to the bottom of his spine. He follows the same path again and again, licking long wet stripes up the cleft as he squeezes and rubs at the muscles in his palms. Kurt is keening, rocking back into Blaine's face and when he tilts at a bad angle his glasses dig into Kurt's skin.
"Sorry," Blaine murmurs, pressing a kiss to the spot. He pulls back slightly and blows a stream of cool air over Kurt's spit slick hole, mesmerized as it clenches tight and releases, drawing another gasp from Kurt. Blaine pats his hip and shifts off the bed, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room after he takes off his glasses and sets them aside.
"Where are you going?" Kurt asks, sounding small and uncertain. He looks sort of silly with his his shirt and vest fully buttoned, his bow-tie askew but still tied, yet bare from the waist down.
Blaine pulls off his sweatshirt, running a hand through his mussed hair and looking fondly at Kurt before stripping off his shirt as well. "I don't have any lube," he tells him as he undoes his fly and drops his pants, "but I'm assuming that you do?"
"Under my pillow," Kurt says, eyes raking up and down Blaine's now naked body. Blaine grins and fishes out the bottle, holding it up triumphantly. He tosses it by Kurt's legs but kneels on the floor at the head of the bed, reaching out to cradle Kurt's face in his palms.
"Hey." Kurt shifts onto his side and scoots closer to the edge of the bed, propping himself up on his elbow to angle his face up for a kiss. Blaine doesn't hesitate to fit their mouths together. Kurt opens up for him instantly, sweeping his tongue along Blaine lower lip and coaxing him to deepen the kiss. Kurt clutches at Blaine with his free hand, scraping his nails over the nape of his neck as he moans, pushing himself further up on his elbow to kiss him harder. It's more intense than Kurt is used to, both of them trying to pour everything they feel into each other, tongues sliding together with just a little too much desperation.
Blaine eases back, panting against Kurt's mouth, their noses and foreheads pressed together. Kurt sits up fully and fumbles with one hand at his bow-tie, sighing as he undoes the knot, popping open the top button of his shirt. He kisses Blaine again, sweet and closed-mouth, dragging his mouth across his cheek and smiling against the faint stubble. Blaine holds his head close as Kurt gets his vest and shirt off, nuzzling into each other and trading giddy kisses until Kurt is finally naked.
"This is so much better than that drunken make-out freshman year," Blaine says as he stands up, awestruck at the turn this night has taken.
Kurt swats Blaine’s arm. “You told me you didn’t remember that!”
Blaine shrugs, completely unapologetic. “I was scared. You’re very intimidating.” He ducks down for another quick kiss. “Now get back on your knees, I wasn’t finished.”
“Yes, sir,” Kurt purrs, rolling back onto his stomach and shifting his knees underneath himself to thrust his ass up as Blaine situates himself between Kurt’s spread legs. Blaine bites gently at the curve of Kurt’s ass, teeth scraping over the top of his thigh as he noses behind Kurt’s balls and licks his way back to Kurt’s hole.
“Did you, um, before you left... you know,” Blaine asks, staring at Kurt’s ass, not sure how to phrase it. He’s only done anal with one guy before, his only serious boyfriend, and Wes was even less inclined to talk about this sort of thing than Blaine. Wes would plan out when they’d have sex, so Blaine never had to worry about whether his partner was ready or not. It was always easy, if not rather dull.
“You know I always prepare for adventure,” Kurt says, laughing fondly. “Come on, tiger, I’m ready and willing.”
Flattening his tongue, Blaine dives back in, lapping harder than before, working around the rim and starting to push at Kurt’s entrance with teasing thrusts. Kurt is way more vocal than Blaine was expecting, making breathy noises of encouragement with each swipe of Blaine’s tongue. Blaine can’t keep his hands away, spreading one over each cheek so his thumbs dip into the space between, pulling them apart so he can get his face in closer, finally pushing his tongue inside Kurt’s body. Kurt moans loudly as he rocks his hips back onto Blaine’s face, and Blaine echoes the sound into Kurt’s skin where his mouth is sealed around Kurt’s hole, his tongue thrusting as deep as he can get it.
“Listen to you,” Blaine whispers, pulling back just far enough to lick over his thumb, getting it wet and rubbing over Kurt’s hole, their ragged breathing filling the room. His thumb slips in with just a little pressure, and Blaine leans back to find the lube and dispense some at the top of Kurt’s crack, letting it drip down over his fingers, loving the slick glide of them over Kurt’s smooth skin as he caresses the area between his cheeks. Two fingers slide in easily, Kurt thrusting back onto them with a little whine, the movement arching his back and making his ass look even more obscene. “And look at you, fuck, Kurt.” Blaine splays his other hand over the small of Kurt’s back, feeling the steep curve of his spine shifting as he pumps his fingers in and out, adding a third when he realizes how quickly Kurt’s hole accepts everything he’s giving it. “Look how well you take it, like you were born for this. You love having your ass played with, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Kurt gasps, drawing his arms in tighter and burying his face in the pillow as he rocks back and forth onto Blaine’s hand.
“So needy.” Blaine twists his wrist as he runs his thumb around the rim, redder than before as it stretches around his fingers. Kurt clenches, then, like he suddenly remembers he has control over his body, Blaine groaning and shuffling forward to press his aching cock against Kurt’s thigh. He thrusts his fingers harder, angling them to rub against Kurt’s prostate. Kurt works a hand underneath himself to pull at his own cock as Blaine rides his thigh, not moving his eyes from the sight of Kurt’s hole flexing around his fingers.
Kurt comes first, crying out as he spills onto the blanket underneath him, clenching hard around the fingers stroking his prostate and milking him through it until he tries to jerk away, oversensitive. Blaine pulls his fingers out and wraps them around the base of his cock, staring at Kurt’s open hole as he tries to hold off his own orgasm.
“Blaine,” Kurt pants, sounding strung out, “are you, do you want--”
“I’m the only one allowed to touch this, baby.” Blaine presses a row of wet, open-mouthed kisses across both globes of Kurt’s ass. “I want to do everything to you, find something you’ve never done.” Three fingers fit back inside Kurt with little resistance, but Blaine just holds them there for the stretch, contemplating, as Kurt gets his breathing under control. “You’ve never lied to me, when you said you’re being safe, have you?” Blaine worries about Kurt, what he’s let other people do to him.
“I’m clean, I promise. You know I’d never lie to you about something like that, Blaine.” Blaine doesn’t say anything else, just lubes his cock and lines up, pushing inside Kurt in one long thrust, grabbing his hips for leverage and getting a relentless pace going.
“Oh god.” The way Kurt breathes during sex is the hottest thing Blaine has ever heard, breathy moans that get louder and louder as Blaine pounds into him.
“Don’t touch yourself,” Blaine groans, face scrunching in concentration as he loses his rhythm. Kurt is hard again and was reaching for his cock, but he pulls his hand away and fists at the blanket instead when Blaine tells him to stop. Blaine leans forward, draping himself over Kurt’s back and mouthing at his spine while he keeps fucking Kurt hard and fast. Blaine wraps his arm around Kurt’s chest and presses his palm over Kurt’s rapidly beating heart. “I made you feel like this,” he says dazedly, and Kurt breaks his moaning with a high whine, pressing himself back into the snapping of Blaine’s hips.
Once Kurt starts clenching tight around Blaine’s cock, it doesn’t take long for Blaine to come, biting at Kurt’s shoulder and keeping himself balls deep inside Kurt until he’s finished. He pulls out slowly, Kurt whimpering at the movement. Blaine doesn’t take any time to bask, just leans back in and immediately starts lapping at his come, watching the ring of muscle flutter as Blaine licks around it, his come slowly trickling back out. Using both hands to rub some of it into Kurt’s skin, Blaine spears his tongue back inside Kurt’s stretched hole, licking out everything he gave him.
“Can I-- Blaine, please,” Kurt whines, clenching his hole and thrusting his ass towards Blaine. “Need to come.”
“Shh,” Blaine says, petting Kurt’s sore ass, red from the earlier spanking and from where Blaine’s hipbones were pounding into him. Blaine lays more kisses over each cheek as he pushes his three fingers back inside, just barely rocking them in a gentle rhythm.
When Kurt calms a little, Blaine picks up the lube and gets his fingers wetter, teasing Kurt’s entrance with his pinky before sliding it in alongside the others. “That’s four fingers,” Blaine says softly, watching in awe as he begins to move them quickly in and out. Kurt’s ass is shiny with spit and lube and come, Blaine’s fingers making obscene squelching noises as they push in, deeper, his thumb stroking along the rim. “Can you take all five, Kurt? Can you take my whole hand?”
“I don’t-- I don’t know,” Kurt says around a moan, shifting restlessly as Blaine brushes over his prostate. “I’ve never...”
“Okay.” Blaine sinks his fingers in as far as they will go and keeps pushing, the hard ridge of his four knuckles finally popping through the resistance. His thumb is still outside, Kurt’s hole stretched around the middle of his palm, and Blaine rotates his hand to point his thumb downwards so it can rub against Kurt’s perineum. “I think you can take it.”
“Oh god, Blaine, oh, fuck.” Kurt’s panting hard now, Blaine can see his back and shoulders moving as he heaves in each shallow breath. Blaine keeps his hand moving, slowly sliding it in and out, just grazing his fingertips over Kurt’s prostate.
“Take slow, deep breaths, baby.” Blaine moves his free hand to stroke the hollow line of Kurt’s spine, trying to gentle him. “I know how much you love this. Gonna make you come without touching your cock.” Kurt lets out a high-pitched gasp at that, and then slowly his breathing settles into a steadier rhythm as he relaxes into the unrelenting stretch. Blaine stops with his fingers inside, just up to the first knuckle, to drip more lube over his thumb and all over his hand and wrist, using up the rest of the bottle on his forearm, just in case-- he’s not sure how much Kurt can take. “Keep breathing,” Blaine reminds him, resuming the thrusting of his hand. He folds his thumb into his palm and gives a few experimental pushes and then doesn’t stop, just keeps pushing until his hand disappears up to his wrist.
“Oh my god,” Kurt whispers, and Blaine glances up to see his hands clutching tight to the pillow. “Fuck fuck fuck.”
“Move, please, it’s so much.” Kurt takes a loud watery breath and Blaine starts to wonder if maybe Kurt really can’t handle this, but moving is definitely different than stopping and when Kurt grits out “just fucking move” with a little more force in his tone Blaine obliges. He keeps his thumb tucked into his palm as he curls his fingers into a fist, Kurt nearly screaming as Blaine’s knuckles dig into his prostate.
“Tell me how it feels.” Blaine’s picky about his porn, and while he’s seen a few fisting videos he’s never thought he’d want to do it. It always seemed so violent and dirty, which sort of fits the playful ‘I’ll try anything!’ attitude Kurt has about sex but is the opposite of what Blaine fantasizes about: intense, loving sex in the context of a relationship. There’s something so different about this, almost a meeting of the two extremes, the slow drag of his fist inside Kurt as much about carnal pleasure as it is about trust and intimacy.
“Really full,” Kurt says after a minute. Blaine had forgotten he’d even asked the question, too lost in feeling how much he wants to claim every part of Kurt. “It’s so good, Blaine.” Between words he’s breathing so loud, gorgeous moans with every push of Blaine’s fist. “You can-- deeper, if you want.”
Blaine has only been pulling out to just before the width of his knuckles, not wanting to slip out and have to force back in, and only pushing to his wrist bone. Kurt’s hole is stretched open for him, wider than Blaine ever though he’d want to see. “You are far too coherent,” Blaine says, because while he doesn’t want to move into punch fucking territory, he does want to make Kurt fall apart. He starts moving his arm with more force, pushing just a fraction deeper with each thrust, fucking his fist farther into Kurt’s body than he’s ever had anything else.
Blaine can only guess how it must feel: the fullness of it all putting constant intense pressure on Kurt’s prostate, the drag of Blaine’s fist and wrist against every nerve ending in his asshole, the sensitive rim stretched out and overwhelming. It all sends Kurt spiralling into a babbling mess, a litany of moans and curses and Blaine’s name as he rides Blaine’s arm.
“Come on, Kurt, come for me.” Blaine’s lost track of time, but it seems like they’ve been connected like this forever and he wants to see how hard Kurt will come from this. Kurt keens, shaking his head back and forth. His feet are arched tightly, toes curling helplessly.
“I can’t, I can’t, Blaine, please,” Kurt sobs.
“You can, baby, shh, just let go,” Blaine coaxes. He takes his free hand and gathers up some of the excess lube, smoothing his hand up and down the soft skin of Kurt’s perineum and balls, drawn tight against his body, and Kurt finally loses it, screaming wordlessly as Blaine fucks him through it. His whole body trembles as Blaine carefully uncurls his first and slowly pulls his hand out. Kurt collapses as soon as Blaine isn’t holding him up anymore, and Blaine lies down next to him, pulling him into a sloppy kiss with his mostly clean hand. Kurt is barely conscious, pawing weakly at Blaine’s shoulder while he lets Blaine lick into his mouth. Blaine lets him go and Kurt buries his face in the crook of Blaine’s neck, just breathing for several long minutes.
“Holy shit,” Kurt says eventually, turning onto his side to face Blaine. “That was. Unexpected.”
“Yeah.” Blaine stares at Kurt, wide-eyed, taking in his flushed face and wrecked hair. “I should, uh. Wash my hands.” He has to climb over Kurt to get off the bed, and Kurt pats his ass fondly.
“You can wear my robe.” Blaine takes the silk kimono off the hook on the door and shrugs it on, finally understanding why it’s maybe a good wardrobe piece to have. He decides he’s definitely getting his own when he’s washing his hands and arms in the hall bathroom and the creepy guy from down the hall gives him a once-over and a wink, knowing it’s Kurt’s since they’ve all seen him wearing it. Blaine manages a half hearted thumbs up and waits awkwardly for the guy to leave so he can wash off his junk.
When Blaine gets back to the room, Kurt is sprawled out on his stomach, looking blissful and completely debauched. “I was going to bring you something to clean up, but I thought a washcloth might be too rough? Is there... what should I do for you?” Blaine feels so much less in control right now than he did with his mouth and hands on Kurt. He figures he’s supposed to be a good top and take care of Kurt, and he wants to, but he doesn’t have the experience Kurt does. Kurt just smiles at him sleepily and waves a hand toward his closet, letting it flop back onto the bed when Blaine gets the hint.
“In my suitcase.” Blaine takes down the ridiculous antique suitcase Kurt keeps his toys in, opening it to find a package of aloe babywipes and another of some sort of medicated cleansing pads nestled among the dildos and plugs and vibrators. Kurt hums happily as Blaine cleans the worst of the lube and come from his skin with the babywipes, switching to the circular pads to gently wipe around Kurt’s hole, which is red and puffy. Blaine can’t get over the fact that he did that to him, he made Kurt open up and take everything he had to give, and Kurt loved it. Well, he’d seemed to, anyway, but now Blaine is nervous when he sees how raw and open Kurt still looks.
Blaine gets up to throw away the wipes and looks at Kurt a little worriedly. “You’re okay, right? I didn’t hurt you?”
“God, no,” Kurt says. “I’ll be a little sore but I am so okay.” Kurt shifts his legs to dangle off the bed and winces as he tries to sit up. “Help me to my bed?” Frowning, Blaine helps Kurt stand and walks him the short distance to his bed, pulling back the covers and tucking him in.
“Blaine.” Only Kurt could still look so patronizing when he’s just had another man’s hand in his ass. “I moved over here because your bed’s a mess. I demand cuddles.” Kurt shifts closer to the wall, an obvious invitation, and Blaine sheds the robe before slipping in alongside him.
It’s a tight fit on the narrow bed. They shuffle around until Kurt is half on top of Blaine, his head resting on his chest, Blaine’s hands roaming over Kurt’s back. He really can’t help himself from molding them around the swell of Kurt’s ass, rubbing and kneading to memorize the feel of it. He’s pretty sure he’ll get to touch it whenever he wants from now on, but right now he’s surrounded by the softest sheets in existence and Kurt’s warm against him and this moment needs to last forever.
“I know I teased you about spending so much money on sheets, but wow. I understand the appeal.” Kurt presses a kiss to Blaine’s chest and snuggles in closer, hitching his leg up a little.
“Mmm. Twin extra-long sheets with a high thread count were the bane of my existence during the summer of 2012.” Blaine kisses the top of Kurt’s head and realizes his face hurts not because he’d worked his jaw so hard, but because he now can’t stop smiling. He’s just converted the most amazing boy he’s ever met into his boyfriend via several filthy yet completely mind-blowing kinks he’d never realized he had.
“I really liked coming in you. Like, a lot. Way more than I was expecting.”
“I noticed,” Kurt says dryly. “I’ve never done that before, you know I play safe. I’m making an exception for you.” Kurt pauses and pinches Blaine’s nipple. “I want to tie you up, ride you until you fill me up, and then sit on your face.”
Blaine whimpers and clutches Kurt’s ass tighter. “Though it’s probably not a good idea to admit this, I’m telling you: if your ass is involved, you could convince me of anything.”
“Please, baby, I’ve known that since the moment I met you. Why do you think I wore those pants the day I moved in? It’s not like they were conducive to hauling boxes.”
“You little shit,” Blaine says, remembering the way he’d offered to help Kurt bring in his stuff after walking into their room and seeing him bent over, tying his shoe. “You are so lucky you weren’t roomed with some homophobe.”
“Sweetheart, having the one incoming freshman who was mesmerized by my glorious ass turn out to be my roommate was the best coincidence of my life.” Kurt tilts his face up, smiling at Blaine, and his face is full of nothing but adoration. “Now, don’t freak out when I wake you up with a blowjob.” Kurt reaches down to cup his hand around Blaine’s soft cock, grin turning lecherous. “I have a little fixation of my own to get out of my system.”
- Fic: Broken (by the thought and the sight of you)