A/N - I do not own Glee or any of the characters. That's Ryan Murphy's deal. Lucky bastard...
Also, I would like to thank my lovely beta, menother. You've been a gem, darling :)
Kurt dumped his school bag on his desk chair as he entered his bedroom, launching himself across the length of his bed. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket as he felt it vibrate against his leg. A new message from Blaine:
Parents home?
Kurt arched an eyebrow and smirked slightly as he replied:
Dad's working late. Carole's out to dinner with Finn.
Kurt pressed send, grinning smugly to himself, knowing that in a matter of seconds, he'd be getting a response that sounded something like:
Give me ten minutes. Put on the shirt I like.
Kurt rolled his eyes as he slid off the bed and over to his bureau. He opened his shirt drawer, a highly organized system of color coding and level of skin-tightness, and slowly peeled the layers up, searching for the shirt. He soon pulled a gauzy cerulean American Apparel shirt out from underneath a stack of Abercrombie & Fitch tees. He couldn't kick the feeling that he should just keep it on top, given the amount of use he got out of it, but that would ruin the entire system. He sighed quietly as he held up the shirt against the light of the window. He didn't know why Blaine loved this particular shirt so much: it didn't show more skin than any of his other shirts; it wasn't any tighter. It was just a shirt.
He shrugged to himself as he laid the shirt on his bed and began to unbutton his tawny Marc Jacobs cardigan, which he then hung carefully in his closet on a velvet hanger. Now here were shirts that Blaine could get excited about, although, after considering for a moment how Blaine got when he was excited, Kurt decided it was best that they stayed away from the upper echelons of his wardrobe. He liked for his haute couture to remain intact for at least two seasons.
He quickly tugged off his white scoop-neck, replacing it immediately with the cerulean top. The thin fabric felt soft and sultry against his alabaster skin, and he ducked quickly in front of his vanity mirror to do what he called a "quality control check," which consisted of making sure his hair and garments were all properly set. As he set about tucking a stubborn strand of hair into place, the doorbell rang. His breath hitched slightly in his throat, and he instinctively straightened up at the sound. He looked back in the mirror, staring himself dead in the eye, and said quietly to his reflection, "Just remember to breathe."
Kurt almost bounded toward the staircase, and then remembering that he didn't want to seem too desperate, continued down the stairs in an odd mix of demureness and excitement. He turned the doorknob slowly and opened the door to Blaine, who had ditched his usually dapper Dalton uniform for a black, zip-up cable knit sweater with a white undershirt peeking out, paired with black, slim-fit jeans and, to top it all off, a pair of classic white Keds. His hair, which was usually gelled into place, was free of the unholy substance, allowing his soft, short curls to revel in their own natural beauty. Kurt felt himself blush as Blaine gave him a hungry once-over with his eyes, lingering for a beat on the shirt. Blaine looked up at Kurt with a devilish smile.
"I love that shirt on you," he murmured, stepping across the threshold and closing the door gently before planting a tender kiss on Kurt's lips, stunning the other boy temporarily. Kurt felt his hands curl into fists and release repeatedly as the kiss lazily made its way down to his jaw, Blaine allowing his teeth to graze lightly over the bone. Kurt leaned forward, bringing Blaine's lips back to his own, and after a moment of lingering there, reveling in the glorious taste of Blaine's mouth, he pulled away slowly, his forehead pressed gently against the shorter boy's.
"Should we go up to my room?" he asked, his eyes turned down, his voice breathy but thick with desire.
Blaine raised his hand up to Kurt's cheek and stroked his thumb down a path from his earlobe to his chin. Kurt looked up into the sultry brown eyes staring directly into his, and he felt his knees almost give out. Blaine leaned over to Kurt's ear and whispered, with a low growl emanating from the back of his throat,
"I think you know the answer to that."
With that, the two boys crashed their lips together, Blaine maneuvering them up the staircase while Kurt walked up backwards, careful not to trip but never breaking contact. Once they made it to the landing, Kurt turned so that Blaine's back was facing the door to his bedroom, and with one swift movement, Kurt guided Blaine over to the bed with his arms, which had taken hold of both of Blaine's biceps, and pushed him gently onto the bed. Kurt hopped swiftly onto the bed, straddling Blaine, whose eyes had suddenly grown dark with lust. Taking that as a cue, Kurt quickly pulled Blaine's sweater over his head, stopping for a beat after to let his eyes sweep over the tight, white undershirt that remained. The temperature in the room seemed to jump about fifty degrees, and Kurt noticed that the front of Blaine's jeans had gotten considerably tighter than when he had arrived. Blaine was beginning to trace patterns onto Kurt's chest through the thin shirt, and when a thumb grazed casually against one of his nipples, Kurt rolled his eyes back in his head and then redoubled his efforts.
First, he traced the silhouette of Blaine's muscles through his t-shirt, starting from his pecs and moving torturously slow down to his abs, obliques, and finally to the waistband of his jeans, where a thin strip of skin was exposed. Kurt dipped his head down and gently pressed kisses onto the exposed skin, allowing his fingers to creep slowly up Blaine's shirt, retracing their previous path up Blaine's torso, this time over nothing but skin.
Blaine, sensing the proximity of Kurt's mouth to his own crotch, angled his hips slightly upward, hoping to find some of the friction he so desperately needed. Kurt brought his hands back down Blaine's chest and pulled up on the hem of the shirt. Blaine lifted his arms over his head so that Kurt could remove the shirt completely, tossing it onto the carpet before quickly ducking down to suck on Blaine's earlobe, his breath becoming fast and ragged against Blaine's skin.
"Aaaaah, Kurt," Blaine moaned, now rutting up against Kurt, who had by this time grown fully hard. Their erections pressed against each other, Blaine took Kurt's faced in his hands and pulled him in for a crushing kiss before flipping them so that he was on top. Kurt was still wearing the blue shirt but, as things began to heat up, he moved to pull it off. Blaine stopped him by putting one of his hands down to catch Kurt's.
"Leave it," he moaned darkly, breaking their kiss.
That was enough for Kurt to move his hands up from the hem of his shirt to Blaine's head, where he twisted the luscious curls through his fingers, bringing their heads closer together. Blaine pulled away suddenly, and Kurt whimpered at the loss of Blaine's lips, until he felt them press into his hip. Blaine had pulled the shirt up a little on one side to expose a sliver of Kurt's skin, which was as pale and flawless as ever. Blaine's hand wandered up Kurt's thigh and over to the obvious bulge in his jeans, pressing the heel of his palm into it. Kurt bucked up instinctively, biting his lip to hold back the enormous moan in his throat created by the simultaneous sensations of Blaine's lips getting closer to his crotch and his hand, which was now palming his erection with growing enthusiasm.
Blaine's lips had reached the small strip of skin just above Kurt's fly. He glanced up, looking for permission to continue. When Kurt's hand flew to the back of Blaine's head and laced into his hair with particular vigor, moaning "Mmmm, don't stop," Blaine considered that permission and slowly unbuttoned the top of Kurt's jeans, unzipping the fly with his teeth, smirking to himself as Kurt moaned when Blaine's nose brushed up against his throbbing cock, which had sprung out against gray Calvin Klein boxer-briefs. Blaine nuzzled his cheek against it slowly, but Kurt was getting impatient.
"God, Blaine, are you gonna suck my dick or read it a bedtime story?"
"Once upon a time..."
"SHUT UP"
Blaine looked up at Kurt, who had already broken out into a sweat, arched an eyebrow and grinned as sweetly as he could.
"As you wish," he growled, and in a flash he yanked the boxer-briefs down his thighs, leaving his quivering erection fully exposed. Blaine sighed longingly as he took Kurt's rather impressive length in his hand, making long, languid strokes, making sure his thumb grazed over the tip every time. Kurt was now balling the duvet into his fists, his eyes squeezed tight against the feeling of Blaine jerking him off. This was heaven.
"Aaah fuck, Blaine!" he moaned, his voice becoming high-pitched with arousal. "That's so good, oh my – mmmmph."
Kurt quickly lost all ability to speak as Blaine suddenly lowered his mouth onto Kurt, taking all of him in at once. Kurt had to fight the urge to buck up into Blaine's mouth as his tongue twisted all around him, bobbing up and down slowly while gently massaging his balls. Kurt gasped as he felt Blaine's cheeks hollow, the suction and tightness threatening to send him over the edge.
"OhshitBlaineI-ohshitI'mgonna –" Kurt choked out, but Blaine only sped up, now using his hand to stroke what his mouth wasn't reaching. A few seconds later he felt Kurt convulse underneath him, and the warm, bitter liquid came pouring down his throat fast, but he made sure to take every drop. Once he had sucked Kurt dry, he slowly pulled his mouth off of him and continued stroking him through his orgasm, leaning over to kiss Kurt as his hand slowed down. He pressed his tongue against Kurt's lips, seeking entrance, and they parted soon enough, allowing Blaine to press his tongue against Kurt's, letting the taller boy taste himself in his mouth.
"Mmmmm," sighed Kurt, after Blaine had tucked him back into his underwear and curled up beside him on the bed. "That was amazing, Blaine." He glanced down at Blaine's pants, which were still painfully tight, and looked back up into Blaine's eyes. "Shall I -?"
Blaine shook his head, smiling dreamily. "Don't worry about me. Besides, there's always next time, right?"
Kurt smiled warmly and snaked his arms around his boyfriend's waist. Burt, Carole and Finn wouldn't be home for another couple of hours. Next time didn't have to be such a long wait, after all.