Disclaimer: I do not own Glee
Warnings: Foul language, hot and heavy making out, implied sex
The air seemed to shift, tilting and waning towards him. It was inevitable, of course, but the feeling of the pull was enough to spark a slight rebellious indignant side of him.
"Hello," A smile. Perfectly charming in every aspect, and he hated it. The easy openness and quirky cheerfulness was repelled, something a little like bitterness seeped through. He's probably an asshole, he thought. An asshole with a really nice ass…
"You're Kurt, right?" Those damned pools of perfect innocence stared right into his unblinkingly. The whites of his teeth glinting towards him, every part of the boy was so damned carefree. So warm and friendly and-screw it all, sexy.
Stop it. He's an ass. He desperately repeated this thought. He gave a simple nod, biting down hard on his lip to keep the bubbling responses from pouring out. Shit, now all I'm thinking about is his ass.
"Ah, so you're our competition this year, right? I heard you guys were fantastic."
It's just words, focus on the words. Not at his lips, bad Kurt.
He felt his eyes narrow slightly. "You're from the other school." Statements, right. He could handle those. Keep him at arms length. Or farther. Yes, farther is probably a better plan. Then he couldn't stare at the way the boys nose crinkled when he smiled, or the adorable dimples and slight twinkle in those alluring hazel eyes, or smell the faint scent of coffee floating all around like a sirens call- Wait, he was talking. Words, he was speaking words. Right.
"-good luck then! I really hope you guys give us a bit of a competition, it'd be nice to loosen up a little."
And then he fucking winked. It took all of Kurt's willpower to not crumble right then and there. He gaped for a minute, sorry but Kurt seems to have encountered a problem and needs to close. We apologize for any inconveniences.
The boy stared levelly at him, a faint smirk pulling the corner of his lip up in a completely unfair way.
"I… um… Kurt. Name-I… Kurt." Fuck. That's it, his mouth had officially given up. It's just all part of the plan, right? Make him think you're a mentally challenged dick so that he'll leave you alone. If he would just stop fricking sexing over everything. That's beginning to get annoying. He coughed awkwardly, completely avoiding eye contact. "I mean, my names Kurt. G-good luck to you too."
He was suddenly aware of how close they were. Shit. Kurt felt the light brush of air on his cheek as he chuckled lightly. "Thanks. I think we might need it." He felt a little light headed. Air, right, breathing. That constricting feeling down below was not happening. He refused to acknowledge it. There was absolutely no way it was actually there. He glanced cautiously to the sex-bomb beside him, gauging the actual distance between them. Do NOT look at his face. Do not.
Balls. The boys eyes were positively smoldering, dark eyes practically displaying a neon sign of 'I WILL RAVAGE YOU LATER'. Nope. Definitely not acknowledging that either. His pulse quickened. Traitor.
"We… we should go… Practice I mean. Singing. We- we sing. Now."
Alright so maybe his subtly could use a little work. He was totally going to fire his mouth after this. Or at least get a muzzle.
Fingers were trailing up his arm, leaving him completely boneless. This was not good for his brain. Not at all. He needed his words, where were they?
"I know a place." That was completely unfair. Amazingly hot men were not allowed to just say things like that while looking at him this way. And then to expect him to be able to function after. It was appalling.
Oh, wait. He was moving. Was that a hand in his? Oh sweet deity above, was that a closet?
I should be disgusted right now. Something in the back of his mind told him. But it was quickly swallowed up by a whole lot of holy shit that's a fucking closet.
He knew he should be concerned by the magical unlocking abilities of his mystery man, and he figured if his brain ever fully recovered and his mouth stopped failing miserably at everything he'd ask then. But to be honest, he would have given every single piece of his high designer closet just to have this man unlock it faster. Bad Kurt. No. Where's you're self respect. His conscious told him. Tell me later. I'm about to get laid everything else said.
The closet was dingy to say the least, but his hormones were raging and quite frankly it could have been a friggin dungeon at that point and neither one of them would have cared.
"Finally, I get you all to myself." The boy chuckled, weaving his arms around Kurt's waist and simultaneously frying every single ounce of remaining restraint Kurt had left. "I'm not sure I could've kept that up much longer." The throaty growl afterwards was the last straw. I quit. Screw him. Literally.
"Blaine Anderson, you are going to be the death of me." Blaine laughed, leaning in to place searing hot kisses across his collarbone. "How the- oh-HELL do you expect me to-ohmygod- keep that up?"
Blaine mumbled something that vaguely sounded like an apology against his throat. His eyes fluttered, mouth attempting to make up for it's pathetic attempts earlier struggled to continue. "I c-could hardly stop-keepdoingthatohmygod- myself from jumping you right in front of everyone."
The frantic kisses stopped, a devilish gleam glancing up at him. "Why, mister Kurt Hummel. Are you telling me that you were about to drag a man you hardly knew off to god only knows where to ravish him? I'm shocked!"
Sarcasm, commence 'bitch please' face number 35. "If you hadn't dragged me off the second you did I probably would have just attacked you right then and there."
Blaine leaned in closer so his mouth was right by Kurt's ear. "That, is fucking hot."
That little gasp was not him. Not at all. "C-can we skip the pretending next time and get right to the making out? I really" really "like the making out." But not as much as everything else after the making out.
"Kurt, are you suggesting that we," he stopped to lick a casual stroke over his earlobe. Unfair, unfair, unfair. I was talking you cheater. "might actually know each other?"
Okay, screw everything. Time for the big guns. "I am suggesting, Blaine Anderson-Hummel. That we should continue this conversation on a later date after we have crazy, hot sex in a closet during a school reunion. And then maybe we can talk about your obsession with needless flirting as well as how entirely" it wasn't revenge at all to shove his hand underneath Blaine's fitted white shirt during this sentence. Really. "damn sexy you are when you're role playing."
He smirked a little at the hum and full out grinned when Blaine moaned against him.
"Less talking and more sexing."
Kurt decided he might not need to fire his mouth after all. It certainly came in handy sometimes.