Hello,
So, like much of the world, Glee has pretty much eaten my brain. Particularly the gorgeousness that is Klaine :) And in my trolling of the Glee fandom, I happened upon the Glee Kink Meme, which pretty much ate the rest of my brain. This story is a fill for the following prompt on the kink meme (paraphrased):
Kurt/Blaine, noncon somnophilia, not-so-dapper!Blaine
So, for the most part, Kurt and Blaine have a great sex life. The only thing is, Blaine has this kink...he loves the idea of having sex with Kurt while Kurt is totally out of it. Kurt is completely not into this, but sometimes Blaine just can't help himself. So he creates situations in which he can have his way with Kurt while Kurt is out cold. He knows it's wrong, and Kurt would flip his shit if he found out, but sometimes he really, really wants it.
Basically, here be noncon, somnophilia, and Blaine being a not-so-nice guy. I played with the parameters of the prompt a bit, so that's not word for word what's going to happen...but yeah, you've been warned.
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with the rightful owners of any recognizable characters and situations herein, and respectfully request that no one sue me, as no money is being made.
Still with me? Enjoy!
The first time is an accident. A complete and utter accident.
They are lying in bed, Kurt's head tucked under his chin, one arm thrown over his waist. Kurt's been asleep for a couple hours now, but he's still too wired, too excited. He's carding one hand through Kurt's soft hair over and over, a liberty Kurt hardly ever allows him when he's awake, and just staring at the ceiling, a grin he just knows is dopey and ridiculous stretching his face.
The apartment is tiny. He's pretty sure Kurt has rewritten a few laws of physics to get all their furniture into it. They're on the sixth floor in a building with no elevator, he can already tell it's going to be uncomfortably warm in the summer and chilly in the winter. There are only two windows is the whole place—one above the sink in the kitchen, and one in their bedroom—with the only view out of both of them being the brick wall of the adjoining building. The rent is ridiculous, and he has to get on three separate subway trains to get to work every day.
It is absolutely perfect.
They've spent the day unpacking boxes, putting things away, stopping every now and then to just stand back and bask in the sight of their possessions mixed together in closets and on shelves, the realization that everything contained in these four walls is no longer Kurt and Blaine's, but theirs. It's heady and more exciting than anything they've ever experienced. They've made it. They're living together in New York, building a life together in New York, and he thinks his heart might burst from happiness.
Kurt sighs softly in his sleep, tightening his arm on Blaine's waist and nuzzling against his collar bone. It's their first night in their bed, in their home, and Blaine is a little drunk in a way that has just as much to do with the sheer joy of it all as it does with the beers he'd consumed with dinner.
He's loose and happy and Kurt is right there, warm and flushed and completely irresistible, and Blaine suddenly gets an idea. Wicked and naughty, a little bit kinky (and he pointedly ignores the little voice in his head that sounds disturbingly like Santana Lopez that's scoffing at his definition of 'kinky'). He licks his lips as he gently rolls his boyfriend off of him and back onto his side of the bed. Kurt stirs slightly, but quickly settles again, nestling into the pillows.
Blaine kicks the sheets down to the foot of the bed, and props himself up on one elbow for a moment, just drinking in the sight of Kurt's body. He so rarely gets to just look. Kurt's not nearly as self-conscious as he was in high school, anymore, but he still dresses himself in layers upon layers of stylish clothes, still squirms uncomfortably and starts crossing his arms over his chest if Blaine spends more than a few moments staring.
Blaine doesn't understand it, really. In the throes of passion, his boyfriend is as wild and fierce and unrestrained as he is in every other aspect of his life. Once their relationship had gotten truly physical in senior year, it had been like opening a floodgate. Kurt will happily spend hours kissing, licking, sucking, and caressing every part of Blaine's body, will unashamedly spend hours letting Blaine do the same to him. He accepts the compliments Blaine showers on him with a low, approving hum and a gorgeous flush of color in his cheeks. The moment there is hang time, though…the moment Blaine leaves off action and tries to just admire…
Well, he can admire all he wants to right now.
Kurt is beautiful. Blaine has always been perfectly aware of this, even back when he was deluding himself into thinking he and Kurt would only ever be friends. All long, lithe limbs and deceptively delicate features. Blaine could, and has, spend an entire evening just mapping the planes and dips of Kurt's lightly muscled body with his hands. Lean strength covered in smooth, moon-pale skin that's as soft as satin beneath his calloused fingertips.
He leans over and presses his lips against the pulsepoint just below Kurt's jaw. It's barely a kiss, hardly any pressure, but Kurt sighs softly. His head tilts automatically to bare the long column of his neck, though his eyes don't even flutter. Blaine grins, takes the unconscious invitation to trail his lips down to the hollow of Kurt's throat, his tongue darting out to taste the sleep-warm salt of that beautiful skin. Soft touches, soft licks, barely enough to register, and Kurt's breathing is still deep and even.
He hitches himself up to hover over his boyfriend, weight supported on one arm as he reaches down with his other hand to stroke the silky, nearly hairless skin of Kurt's stomach just below his navel. His thumb follows the slide of one perfectly defined hipbone, rubbing a gentle circle where Kurt's navy-blue boxers—a pair of Blaine's, actually, if he's not mistaken—have ridden indecently low. And now Kurt's breath hitches a little, a tiny, breathy moan escaping him. Blaine lowers his head slightly, darts his tongue out to lap delicately at one rosy-pink nipple. He glances up in time to see Kurt's lips part, his breath stuttering again.
Blaine grins again and slowly, gently eases Kurt's boxers down further. They're definitely Blaine's, much too loose around Kurt's waist, and it's easy to ruck them down around the tops of Kurt's thighs to reveal his half-hard cock. The tip is already glistening with pre-come, and Blaine lets one thumb circle it gently, smearing the fluid around the head.
Normally, Kurt would be writhing beneath him now, a beautiful symphony of absolutely sinful noises falling from his lips. His hands would be clenching in the bedspread, or maybe buried in Blaine's hair, trying to guide him lower. His hips would be bucking upwards, straining for more. His legs would tangle with Blaine's, trying to urge him closer.
Kurt's always been a heavy sleeper, though, and he's done just as many laps up and down the stairs carrying heavy boxes as Blaine has today. Add to that the couple glasses of wine he'd downed with dinner and he doesn't stir, even as his breathing speeds up and his hips twitch fractionally under Blaine's palm. Blaine pushes his boyfriend's legs further apart, and there's something about the way Kurt's limbs just fall under his direction, something about the sleep-heavy pliancy of Kurt's body, that gives him pause. He keeps working his thumb around the head of Kurt's cock, sticky-slickness gradually spreading over his fingers.
"Kurt?" he whispers in the darkness, pressing a little harder, letting his whole hand settle around the rapidly hardening flesh. "Baby?"
There's a tiny furrow between Kurt's perfectly shaped brows now, and his head is shifting slightly back and forth on the pillows. There's another soft little moan, and one of Kurt's hands lifts off the mattress briefly, as if reaching for something, before falling back down. He's still asleep, still not consciously aware of what Blaine's doing.
The warm, lazy glow of arousal he's been feeling since he started this suddenly sharpens, curling hard and hot and low in his belly and he doesn't know why. An insistent throbbing has started between his own legs, though, and he's suddenly unbearably curious to see how far he can get before Kurt wakes up. He leans away from Kurt's prone form for a moment, quickly divesting himself of his own underwear, then fumbles at the drawer of the nightstand on his side of the bed.
The little bottle is exactly where he'd put it earlier, Kurt laughingly teasing him about priorities since Blaine hadn't even unpacked any of his clothes yet. He squeezes a generous dollop of lube into his palm and rubbing his hands together swiftly to take the chill off.
Kurt shifts slightly as he does so, curling onto his side, his legs sliding together restlessly. Blaine feels his lips twist into a smirk this time, as he quietly sidles in behind Kurt. He wraps one arm around Kurt's slender waist and tugs him back flush against his chest, another hot spike of sheer lust flashing through him as Kurt's body slumps limply against him. He kisses the back of Kurt's neck as his hand snakes down, gripping his boyfriend's firmly erect cock in one hand. Slowly, he begins to stroke, working his hand up and down, following the rigid path of a vein with his thumb in the way that drives Kurt absolutely crazy.
Kurt moans again, louder this time, and his hips start bucking helplessly into Blaine's grip. Kurt's movements are slow and uncoordinated, though, and Blaine bites back his own lusty groan at the realization that he is completely in control of this. He cants his own hips, grazing the cleft of Kurt's magnificent ass with his hard-on, and damn, he thinks he could come just from this.
He picks up the pace, relishing the feel of Kurt squirming and shivering against him, the soft, broken sounds that are coming from him now. He thinks he feels a shift in Kurt's movements, awareness trickling back into the body in his arms and he redoubles his efforts, twists his wrist just so. He's not sure why, but he's abruptly sure that bringing Kurt off before he wakes up is going to be the hottest thing ever.
Kurt gasps softly, a few half-formed syllables falling from his lips. Blaine can't control the thrust of his own hips now, rubbing himself shamelessly against Kurt's ass and the small of his back. His hand works faster over Kurt, flicking his thumb over the head of Kurt's cock, and he can feel that they're both getting close to the edge.
"Bl—Blaine, whuh?" Kurt's voice is thick with sleep, rough with arousal and so confused, and then suddenly Kurt is stiffening in his arms, his question trailing off into the high, keening cry that Blaine knows so well. Warmth spurts over Blaine's hand, smearing messily over the sheets beneath them, and God! Blaine bites down on Kurt's pale, smooth shoulder as his own orgasm crashes over him, thrusting wildly against Kurt's back.
They lie still for a few moments, panting through the aftermath, and Blaine buries his face against Kurt's shoulder, pressing kiss after kiss against the already-darkening area where he bit down. Kurt is shuddering and gasping in his arms, and Blaine knows he should get up, should go get something to clean them up with, but he's pretty sure he couldn't move if his life depended on it, and how on Earth had he come so hard just giving Kurt a handjob, for pity's sake?
Eventually, Kurt seems to come back to himself totally. He turns in Blaine's arms, reaching up to push a clump of sweat-dampened curls off of Blaine's forehead. Blaine bites his lip for a moment, certain he's about to get a tongue-lashing (and not the good kind) of epic proportions, but Kurt looks more confused than anything.
"Not that I'm complaining, but what was that about?" he asks softly, curling in closer to Blaine's body, close enough that their foreheads touch, their breath mingles.
And the truth is, Blaine doesn't know. He'd thought he'd just have a little fun, maybe be a little naughty and wake him up with a blowjob. That's…that's not where he ended up, though. He chuckles softly, and hopes Kurt doesn't notice that it's a little forced.
"I dunno…you just looked so gorgeous lying there. It's our first night in our own apartment. Seemed a shame to waste it sleeping."
Kurt's face clears, and he smiles softly before leaning in and kissing Blaine sweetly. "I can definitely see the logic of your reasoning. But you couldn't wake me up for all the fun?" Kurt yawns, tucking himself back against Blaine's side.
And Blaine thinks back to the feeling of Kurt's body under his hands, slack and pliant, the ragdoll limpness of him as Blaine touched and tasted and stroked. Another sharp, hot thrill runs through him, pulsing from head to toe and he sucks in a breath.
No, apparently he couldn't.