Title: Like
Author: Stigmatized
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Summary: Kurt's had a few kisses now, even if Blaine has made him realise that only some of them count.
Disclaimer: Not mine now, not mine ever.
A/N: Well my first ever Glee fic! I have been embarrassingly obsessed since seeing Never Been Kissed so I had to write something. It's not much, but this pairing makes me ridiculously happy, so there. Enjoy!
It's times like this that Kurt realises what he's been missing, with Blaine heavy and warm on top of him, his body warm through the layers of their clothes and his lips tasting nothing like dip, but certainly not the over-sweet stickiness of Brittany's gloss. He finds it hard to put his finger on; although he knows the coffee they were drinking earlier is there, but below that he can taste something that he can only describe as "Dalton": deep, rich and tempting him to run away. He almost wants to call it mahogany but he knows that's ridiculous, and he knows it's just Blaine. Blaine's lips pushing and sliding against his own, Blaine's tongue playing with his own in a way that almost makes him need to think of the mailman. It isn't like kissing Brittany, when he could only wonder what might be on TV, or what he would wear to school the next day if he hadn't been putting on that ridiculous front, or what it would be like if her hands were larger and her chin had five o'clock shadow.
More than that, though, kissing Blaine makes his heart swell so much he's afraid it will burst right out of his chest and keep going to take over the house. That's ridiculous, too, but he's sure that Blaine can feel its beat against his chest. He likes it, the feeling that his heart is too big and too filled with love to be contained. It's different from the slow, unfazed rhythm he felt when kissing Britt, and less frightening than when he could feel it breaking when Karofsky kissed him in the locker room, breaking from the theft of something he should have been able to give, from pity and understanding for the jock.
Blaine's hands, too, are a welcome change; Guitar-calloused but soft as they push under the hem of Kurt's sweater and gently confident as Kurt gasps the air from his lungs. He never knew hands could feel like this, sparking against his skin and sending shivers along his spine in a way that Brittany's soft, smooth girl-hands (too like his own, he thinks) never could. He never noticed what Karofsky's hands felt like: the contact was either too brief as he was being shoved into lockers, or he was too confused and scared to think anything when Karofsky touched him without the explicit reason of being violent. When he thinks back and tries to remember all that comes to mind is too rough, too desperate, too much.
"Are you alright?" Kurt doesn't realise he's spacing out until Blaine whispers the question against his lips and pulls back to look at him, hazel eyes worried, and Kurt can feel his heart swelling all over again. Blaine kisses him again, more gently and more chastely than before, and brings his hand to Kurt's cheek. "It doesn't count unless you want it to, Kurt. You make the rules."
Kurt knows his grin looks dopey, but he can't wipe it off, he doesn't want to. He reaches up to run his fingers along Blaine's smile and wonders how he got so good at reading minds.
"I'm more than alright," he says, although it ends up more of a sigh, "but since I make the rules, there will be a penalty if you don't start kissing me again soon." Blaine smiles and bit wider and leans back down.
Kurt can't help this, really. He can't stop himself making these comparisons, but they make him feel so lucky now he's got Blaine's lips and hands and mind to make the other experiences fall back into the shadows.
