Jesus. Christ. I am very near a year shy of being a legal adult. I mean, I'm really getting old. Pretty soon I'll be going to college and then a little after that I'll be able to legally drink. My point is, I am no longer some little fourteen year old boy who has not even a semblance of control over his raging hormones, so why is that I, a seventeen year old in a perfectly steady relationship with plenty of outlet for sexual release (granted we haven't actually moved past first base, but that's beside the point) am having wet dreams? Yes, wet dream's' as in, multiple. Two this week, in fact, and five total this month. I'm running out of reasons why I need to wash my bedding so often.
"Sheets washing time already, Kurt? Thought you did that on Monday." Finn pondered, cocking an oblivious eyebrow.
"Yeah. Actually, I left my window open and this flock of birds came in. Just pooped on everything. It was…bizarre." I lied, tossing my navy satin sheets hurriedly into the washer.
"Man." Finn nodded in awe, "You should keep your windows closed." He tipped me some brilliant advice before walking off to the kitchen. I don't even have any windows in my room.
Anyway, I finally broke down and tried to Google my…issue, and all I got was the unanimous result that wet dreams-even pretty frequent ones-are normal for a healthy seventeen year old. I'm pretty sure Google's lying to me, though. There is nothing normal about being unable to control all the stuff going on down there. I should be able to control it, right? At least to the point that I can stop having a remotely sexy dream and then wake up in a sticky mess-that sounds fair to me.
It's getting so bad that I have to think about funerals and nuns and like old people making out and stuff right before I go to sleep as a desperate attempt at stopping what all the pamphlets call 'nocturnal emission'. I'm starting to think maybe I should talk to someone.
"Ever listen to We Were Promised Jetpacks?" Blaine asks from his spot on his bed. I shake my head faintly, only half in there. More like a quarter. Or an eighth. Blaine notices this, rises from where he was sitting on his four poster and comes to sit beside me on his floor.
"Hey." He nudges me softly, bumping my shoulder with his, "What's the matter with you today, you seem all distracted." His voice is calm and understanding, as if he genuinely wants to know my problems. I sigh and he slides his right hand to meet my left, they intertwine.
"You know you can tell me anything, right? Nothing's off limits, Kurt." I finally look him the eyes, his big, smoldering, honest brown puppy eyes and I can't resist.
"Okay. But you have to promise you won't tell anyone. Or be grossed out and leave me or something." I sputter, biting my bottom lip (nervous habit, you know.) Blaine lets out a little laugh at my insecurities, "I'm not going to leave you. I like you far too much for that." There's a pause in time and the air in the room is a vacuum until his head drifts to meet mine and his full lips meet my thinner ones. It's sweet and soft and comforting and reassuring. It's a promise, his kiss. Oh hell, I'm going to have to tell him now.
"So what's wrong?" He asks as he drifts back into his own space. I cough uncomfortably and squirm a little, obviously trying to avoid the question.
" I uh…I…I've been having…you see when you sleep and then you dream and, uh…I…Ikeephavingwetdreams." Wow. That was far more uncomfortable then it should have been. Leave it to me.
To my surprise, Blaine just grins. Full out grin, if he had dimples they'd be showing.
"What are you smiling about?" My voice is higher than normal, which must make my astounded inquisition even funnier to him. Now he starts laughing to himself, sort of quietly at first. I reach for the throw pillow sitting near me and gently whack him on the head with it.
"You are so…cute." He responds to my frustration, leaning over to kiss me again, this time his lips are curved upward into an unshakable grin that turns it more into a peck than a full on kiss, but whatever.
"How are my…" My voice lowers into a hissed whisper, "wet dreams, 'cute'?" I ask incredulously, rising to my feet. Blaine follows suit and somehow pulls me onto his bed, on top of him. I place my hands on both sides of shoulder and open my hips up so that he fits right in between my legs.
"You're so…well, you're obviously not a prude," He smirks as I find a spot on his neck that looks particularly inviting and lay a pretty hot (go me!) open mouthed kiss on, "mmmhm." He mutters as my teeth hit his skin and I go on my way, sucking on his creamy, white neck sort of casually. I finish and plot my assault on his mouth now, but I don't get very far before he rolls us over and halts what could have been a nice make out.
"It's cute because you're such a firecracker here but as soon as we leave Kurt and Blaine world you're so…innocent, I guess is the word." I very badly want to grab his crotch and say something like, "Babe, I'm far from innocent" really huskily into his neck, but I refrain from doing so because that's about the cheesiest thought that's ever crossed my mind. Instead I just push myself out from under him and lay next to him on my back. He props himself up on his elbow.
"I'm trying to be more comfortable…it's just…I don't like talking about sex and stuff. It's weird to me." I explain, looking up at him uncomfortably.
He gives me an endearing half smile, "Well I think I came up with a solution for your wet dreams." Never in a million years would I have thought that that sentence could be sexy enough to make me want to jump someone's bones. The power of Blaine, ladies and gents.
"Do tell." I remain nonchalant. Or try my hardest. I'm not very good at being nonchalant when I'm in my boyfriend's bed. Which smells like him-like his natural scent. Talking about nocturnal emission.
"Kurt. My next question is going to make you feel really uncomfortable-"
"How would you know?" I ask, appalled that he'd make the assumption, though probably true. He grinned at me again,
"I know you too well," I beamed back at him and after a beat or two, the smiles wore off and Blaine attempted to regain his composure, trying to figure out to word his next question.
"Kurt. Do you ever…masturbate?" Ah, he went the direct and shocking route, I see. I bolted upright. I could almost feel my pupils becoming dinner plate sized.
"No?" My answer came out more as a question than anything. This time Blaine doesn't laugh. Instead he sits up to face me and takes my hand again.
"It's totally normal. And I think you need to start. I'm no doctor but I'm guessing you're having these wet dreams because you aren't getting any release anywhere else. It's part of being a horny teenager." He tells me in all seriousness. It takes me a second, but I work up the courage to speak,
"So…jerking off is…normal?" I ask. Blaine's grin is back.
"Yes, Kurt. It's completely normal. And I'll let you in on something, everyone does it. Like…everyone." He tells me.
Does that mean Blaine does it?
"Does that mean you do it?" I can't contain myself. I have to know if something that unbelievably hot goes on in this world. Blaine giggles a little bit,
"Yeah, when I need to." Good. God. I squirm a bit, not because the conversation is uncomfortable (it is), but because my skin is flushing and my heart is going a little faster because all I see in my mind is Blaine laying sprawled out on his bed after a hard day, his hand sliding down his stomach, gliding under his waistband. His eyes roll back into his head and he makes those noises of absolute pleasure as he strokes himself, imagining it was someone else's hand (in my fantasy, it's mine, but you know I guess it's an ego thing).
I gulp.
"How do you know when you need to? Like, when am I supposed to do it?" I ask, shoving my thoughts of him biting his bottom lip as he gets close.
"Whenever you feel like it. When you're stressed out it helps relax you. You know those moods you get in when you just want to fuck something?" Blaine asks. I feel a shiver go down my spine. I love it when he says fuck. I bite my bottom lip and nod.
"Yeah, you're the type of person who just ignores those feelings and then you end holding them all in until you get so horny you come in your sleep. Whenever you feel like that just…help yourself out. Ha, 'give yourself a hand'." He jokes, making me laugh.
"Okay…I'll try it." I tell him.
"Good. It really helps, trust me. And it lets you know what you like." My face must have been blank because he continued, "You know…what you like in bed." Still blank faced, "From me." He lowers his head and his eyes look a little hazier. I nod, mystified.
"I'm glad we had this talk." Blaine says after I remain silent. I don't respond, I'm still think about him getting himself off. I'm so glad people can't read my mind.
"I think I'll help you." Blaine says suddenly. I don't know what he means by that but the next thing I know, he's on top of me. His lips hit mine. Hard. Pretty sure they're bruised, if that's possible. The next kiss is truly a mouth assault and it's pretty damn hot. I used to think tonguing was sort of gross-I mean, it's someone's tongue for Christ's sake-but Blaine's is welcome in my mouth anytime. Just as I think he's being the dominant one in this situation, he flips us so I'm on top, passing the lead over to me.
"What are you doing?" I ask, my words like rapid fire as his hand parts us at the pelvic area. The loss of contact there almost made me whimper, but I contained myself.
"Showing you how it's done." He answers before giving me truly the most intense kiss we've ever had. It was full frontal, wet and just plain hot (common adjective used around Blaine, I've noted). The kiss alone sent the blood rushing immediately downstairs, but then Blaine slid his hand down his pants, just as I'd imagined. He works for a bit, moaning my name into my mouth, which has got to be the biggest self confidence boost I've ever experienced, until we part for air.
"You want to try?" He asks. I nod skeptically as he takes my hand. Oh God my pants are tight. He slides it down to where his had been just seconds ago until we come together. Both of us let out a moan at the contact and I can feel his cock twitch as I wrap my hand around, sort of unsure what to do. Blaine shudders but manages to realize that I need help and puts his hand over mine, showing me the motion of things.
Pretty soon I can feel the pre-cum on his tip, at which point Blain's hips roll off of his bed, thrusting lightly into my hand. It takes him a second to calm down before he gently removes my hand.
"Why'd you do that?" I asked, my voice lower than I remembered. He sighs and his face looks almost like he's in pain.
"I can finish later. I just wanted you to get the idea. Plus," He points at the giant bulge in my khakis.
"Gee, thanks for that. Not like I have to drive home or anything."I roll my eyes playfully. He still looks pained. I guess I should probably go, he really needs to finish that off before things get ugly. Blaine walks me to the door,
"I'd give you a kiss but I don't want cum all over my pants." He half jokes. I smile at him and give him a peck on the cheek.
"Thank you. And I will definitely take your advice. Heavens knows I need to do something." I grimace as I glance down. Blaine smiles and waves goodbye as I enter my car.
As the door closes I throw my head back. Shit. I'm actually going to do this, aren't I?
So I've never written slash before, or from anything other than 3rd person, so if I didn't do it justice, let me know!
~Rhea