Media: Fic
Title: The Hurting Is So Painless
Rating: M
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: ~1,900
Summary: Kurt has what you might call a manual fixation. He always has to have something in his hands, something to fiddle with and fill up the spaces between his fingers.
Author's Note: So you know how Chris tends to show off his ninja skills when he's in the background of a shot, so Kurt is always flipping around microphones and drumsticks? Well it happened again in that sneak peak we got yesterday and I couldn't help but notice that "It's like anytime he gets something long and cylindrical in his hands, he can't resist playing with it. I bet he gives great handjobs." So then I had to write about it. Title is from Slow Hands by Interpol.
Some people have an oral fixation. Kurt has what you might call a manual fixation. He always has to have something in his hands, something to fiddle with and fill up the spaces between his fingers. He likes to feel the way an object fits in the palm of his hand and rolls between his knuckles. It's become such second nature to memorize the shape and texture of anything he touches with the pads of his fingers that now he mostly does it without thinking.
He doesn't realize that his wandering exploration of the fabric of Blaine's jeans is taking his hand higher and higher up his thigh until he hears Blaine's sharp inhale and feels his fingers flex on the back of his neck. He lifts his head from where he had very respectfully not been giving Blaine a hickey and glances down at his hand. It had started at Blaine's knee but during the course of their makeout, had traveled up and over and now rested heavily on Blaine's zipper.
He snatches his hand back and looks out the window of the car, afraid to make eye contact with Blaine and afraid if he doesn't look away, his eyes will drift back to Blaine's crotch. He can already feel his face heating up and he can only be thankful that it's dark out and that Blaine won't be able to see how badly he's blushing right now.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I—"
"Kurt, it's okay," Blaine says, grabbing his hand and placing it back on his leg. "You can touch me, I really don't mind."
The shame rushes out of him and he leans in for a kiss, grateful that Blaine isn't upset and doesn't think he's some freakish pervert. They kiss soft and slow while Kurt considers Blaine's offer. He's never really thought about it before. Well, he has, but not very often. His fantasies about Blaine are usually much more romantic than that and involve things like picnics in the park and slow dancing together at Prom. Now that the subject has been brought up, he can't push the idea away and his hand feels strangely empty, like he doesn't just want to touch Blaine, he needs to.
He squeezes Blaine's thigh, digging his fingers into the hard muscle there and Blaine hums low in his throat. It feels nice and tells Kurt all sorts of things about Blaine that he already knew, like that he is sturdy and reliable and strong. It doesn't take away that almost-itch in the center of his palm, though, that feeling he gets sometimes where he just needs to wrap his hand around something.
He rubs his hand across the rough denim of Blaine's jeans but it doesn't reach the deep groove of his Life Line, where the itch is the worst. His hand slides higher and his fingertips brush the edge of Blaine's zipper and he thinks that maybe he could just slide his palm along the seam and maybe the feeling would go away then. They could still keep things nice and PG.
It was supposed to be a light touch, barely a scrape of his palm over the cloth so Blaine might wonder if he had ever done it at all. It doesn't work, though, and before he can think about the consequences of rubbing his hand hard against his boyfriend's crotch, he's already done it. Blaine's head hits the headrest and his hips jerk up into Kurt's hand and he can feel him, hard and thick and growing in his hand.
Blaine rubs the back of Kurt's neck and pushes his crotch into his hand again and whispers, "please," and all thoughts of keeping things Disney appropriate are gone. He can barely see Blaine in the dark but a distant streetlight paints a yellow strip across the skin of his neck and lets Kurt see the hard bob of his adam's apple when Kurt finally cups Blaine in his hand and squeezes just a little. Blaine wants this enough to beg for it and Kurt wants it too. He can't deny it any longer that the itch in his palm and the empty feeling in his fingers, that's not going to go away until he feels the weight of Blaine's cock in his hand.
When he goes for the button on Blaine's pants, Blaine uses his hand on the back of Kurt's neck to reel him in and capture his lips in a fierce, biting kiss. It's distracting as hell and that, coupled with the fact that this is Kurt's first time attempting a blind, one-handed de-robing of another person, means that it takes Kurt a few tries before Blaine's jeans are finally unzipped and open and the only thing between Kurt's hand and Blaine's cock is his soft cotton boxers. He runs the back of his knuckles over Blaine's hard-on and tears just enough of his focus away from their kiss to properly appreciate the way the curve of it fits between his bones, like two arcs of flesh that were made to interlock.
Kurt breaks away from Blaine's distracting lips and tongue and hides his own away underneath Blaine's jaw. He's determined to commit the feel of Blaine's cock to memory and he just can't do that if Blaine is sucking on his tongue or biting his lower lip, silently begging for more with his urgent kisses. He wants to give Blaine more, wants it for himself even, but he can only do that if he doesn't keep getting caught up in how talented Blaine is with his mouth.
He pulls on the waistband of Blaine's boxers and Blaine helps him push them down until the elastic is hooked underneath his balls. Kurt can't make out where his belly ends and his cock begins in the shadow of the steering wheel and resolves to make this good so it'll happen again. Hopefully somewhere with lights so he can see as well as touch and a lot more comfortable so he doesn't have a console digging into his stomach. Maybe the next time Blaine comes over to his house and no one else is home, they can go up to his room and stretch out on his bed and Kurt will be able to see and feel all he wants.
His first touch is tentative, just a swipe of his thumb across the head and a slight curling of his fingertips around the length of it, but it's enough for Blaine to suck in a huge breath and clutch at the steering wheel and throw his head back until the skin on his neck stretches tight against Kurt's lips. He takes Blaine more firmly in his hand and wraps his fingers all the way around his cock and the way it fits perfectly into the crease of his palm makes him sigh into Blaine's neck. He just holds it for a second or two, loving the way it fills up his palm and feels just different enough from his own, which is a good inch longer but narrower than Blaine's, to really cement the fact that he has another boy's cock in his hand.
He strokes him slow and steady at first, dragging his hand up and down so each finger catches on the ridge of the head and pressing his thumb into the veins on the underside. He knows that despite his rigorous moisturizing regime, his dry hand has to feel rough on Blaine's sensitive skin and he's contemplating stopping just long enough to dig his lotion out of his bag when Blaine tugs his hand away from his cock and brings it to his mouth.
"It's good, it's so good. I just need—"
Blaine doesn't even bother finishing his sentence, just sticks out his tongue and licks the palm of Kurt's hand and curls his tongue between his fingers until his whole hand is soaking wet with Blaine's spit. It should be gross, and it kind of is, but Kurt can't find the will to care because the feel of Blaine's mouth on his hand is causing his cock to suddenly start taking up more space in his already tight pants.
When he's done fellating Kurt's hand, Blaine guides it back down to his cock and turns his head to use that talented mouth on Kurt's lips. He would stop him but Kurt really loves kissing Blaine and now that he's more or less mapped out the differences between Blaine's cock and his and the phantom itch has faded, he doesn't really need much concentration to get the job done. He already knows how to jerk off a boy; he does it all the time.
So he lets Blaine wind his fingers through his hair and slide his tongue into his mouth because if kissing is what's going to make this good for Blaine, then he's not really going to argue. Not when Blaine is kissing him like he wants to drag Kurt into the backseat and rut up against him until they're both breathless and sweaty and dizzy from the rush of orgasm.
He strokes with a sure hand, like Blaine's cock belongs there, like he's done this a million times, even if it was just with himself. It takes less time than he thought it would before Blaine is panting into his mouth, his lips still moving over Kurt's, but with less finesse. Kurt almost wants to back off and make it last longer, coax Blaine back to that place where it's just a slow build of curling tension in his gut and see how far they can take it. He doesn't get the chance, though, because Blaine comes, pulling his hair and moaning against his lips and spilling over the back of his hand, hot and messy and wet.
Kurt kisses Blaine's slack lips once more before he sits back in his own seat and wipes his hand off on a spare Lima Bean napkin Blaine had wadded up in his cup holder. He passes another one to Blaine and shifts in his seat, trying too resituate his aching, trapped cock without being too obvious about it.
"So," Kurt says, needing to break the silence, "that was okay, right?"
Blaine tosses his napkin back into the cup holder and leans over the console to press a sweet and lingering kiss to his lips. "It was more than okay if you couldn't tell by the way I came embarrassingly early."
"Well, there's always next time," Kurt says with a nervous laugh.
"Definitely." He kisses Kurt on the mouth one more time before his lips wander down and across his jaw. "Let's see if you can do any better, though."
Blaine's hand settles over the bulge in his pants and he nips at Kurt's earlobe and there's no way. There's just no way Kurt is going to last anywhere near as long as Blaine did if he has to deal with Blaine's hands and mouth on him.
I guess I'll just have to live with the embarrassment, he thinks, and tilts his head back a little further to give Blaine better access.
