I don't own Glee. Sadface.
A/N: So the last thing I need to do is post yet ANOTHER story right now. But I had the first four chapters of this one written in like February, which is why Klaine are both at Dalton. still. I posted this on Livejournal when I first wrote it, but I decided to post it here.
What the hell was he thinking?
Kurt Hummel stared at the screen of his iPhone, watching as the backlight dimmed making it harder to read the text message that he just received from Blaine. Kurt had often thought of doing things like this, mostly in his dreams, and he had often wondered if Blaine would even receive a text message at precisely two thirty-seven in the morning.
It had been Kurt's sleep-deprived, half delirious and outrageously horny brain that prompted him to blindly type the words into a text message that was ready to be sent right to one Blaine Anderson. They were so close to dating Kurt thought he might explode, because really, Kurt may have been gay but he was still a sixteen year old boy with sixteen year old boy needs. To put it frankly, being close to Blaine sparked a fire in Kurt that kept burning, much the same way oxygen keeps the flames of a wildfire burning relentlessly.
That fire had prompted Kurt to awake from a steamy dream that left him painfully hard and thinking only of Blaine and grab his phone from the nightstand.
Totally hard and thinking of you – Kurt
He dropped the phone by his side and laid there, his eyes squeezed shut so he could focus on the image of Blaine's handsome smile that was permanently plastered to the insides of his eyelids. He didn't touch himself, because some small part of him felt the need to punish him for sending that message.
And then his phone vibrated.
Kurt's mind reeled as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and hoped that maybe it was just Mercedes or Rachel having a problem and needing to talk. But he knew that wasn't possible. Not at this time of night. He lifted his phone up and held it above his head, reading the message.
Really now – Blaine
Kurt gulped. He could see Blaine smirking as he sent the text, hear Blaine's playful tone. Moments after the backlight faded, the phone buzzed again. Kurt didn't want to read it, but he did.
What game is this? – Blaine
Blaine thought it was a game. It would've been so easy for Kurt just to blow it off, say it didn't mean anything. Move on and forget. Just like that Kurt could change the subject, erase the message, and neither of them wouldn't think of it again except maybe when they were old and possibly married and telling funny stories from their past.
But Kurt didn't do that. Kurt held his breath as he typed his response, feeling his entire deprived body twitch at the thought of what this could lead to.
Not a game. Dreaming about your eyes and lips and hands. – Kurt
The silence that passed after Kurt sent the message made him tremble. He set his phone on his pale stomach and stared up at the ceiling. He was tempted to touch himself, but he needed to see Blaine's reply. When his phone vibrated with the reply, Kurt grabbed the phone as quickly as his sleepy reflexes would allow.
How hard? – Blaine
Kurt let out a little high pitched whimper when he read it. His chest rose and fell rapidly and he was positively aching with the need to touch himself.
Really. Really really really. – Kurt
He didn't have to wait long for Blaine's reply.
Me too. – Blaine
His hand shot down to his groin, palming himself over the black silk sheet that was draped over his lower half. He shuddered, letting out a low moan as he moved his fingers up and down his hard length.
Touchme Blain – Kurt
He typed with one hand, not caring about the typos. He clicked send, resisting the urge to reach under the sheets.
Can't. Too far away. – Blaine
Kurt grunted in frustration at Blaine's ability to be even a little witty. He sat up, propping his pillows behind him.
Touch yourself and pretend it's me. – Kurt
Then he sent another message almost immediately after.
Tell me what you're doing. How it feels. – Kurt
He didn't receive a reply and Kurt panicked after five whole minutes passed. Maybe Blaine had been grossed out by the whole idea of doing anything like this with Kurt. They weren't technically even dating. Blaine had never done anything more than kiss his cheek. Even then, it wasn't the most romantic thing in the world. Kurt was about to text Blaine and apologize for it all when his phone buzzed. And buzzed again.
Oh sweet Gaga and anything else that's holy.
Blaine was calling him.
It buzzed a few more times before Kurt finally got the courage to answer it.
"H-hello?" Kurt whispered. It was silent for a moment, except for the sounds of heavy breathing coming from the other end. That's Blaine! Kurt thought to himself.
"I-I just started stroking myself," Blaine said, his voice low and husky, but quiet and hushed at the same time. He moaned into the phone and continued, "Stroked the head w-with my thumb. Ugh – Kurt – wish it was your hand."
Kurt's hand was on his own cock without hesitation, stroking himself and swiping his thumb over the head, smearing around white dribbles of pre-cum all over, panting into the phone and unable to speak.
"K-Kurt…I can't do this," Blaine said breathlessly. Kurt felt tears burn his eyes instantly at the rejection, but just the thought of Blaine being hard and touching himself made him unable to stop.
"Why not?" Kurt asked, trying to sound breathy and sexy, but instead squeaking out the words in a high pitched voice. He was prepared for Blaine to say because he didn't like Kurt like that. Because he wasn't attracted to Kurt that way. That their dates weren't real dates and that he never wanted to speak to Kurt again.
"I need to touch you for real," Blaine said.
When the words sunk in, Kurt thought he might positively die from it. Blaine was there, on the phone with him, hard and wanting to touch him for real.
"Can't," Kurt said. "At home. In bed."
"Oh god," Blaine groaned. "What are you wearing?"
Kurt bit his lip and looked down at the black sheet that still covered him. He continued to lazily stroke himself as his cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink.
"Blacksilksheet," he answered hurriedly.
"What?"
Kurt gulped and couldn't believe he was about to say it.
"Nothing."
Blaine sounded like he was choking on the other end of the line, and it made Kurt panic just a little. But when Blaine finally spoke, he knew that he could never go back to just friends.
"You're going to make me come," Blaine whispered harshly.
"But I haven't done anything," Kurt said, moaning into the phone as he dropped his hand lower to touch his balls with his soft pale fingers.
"Just touch yourself," Blaine said. "Don't talk. Just make yourself come. I wanna listen."
Kurt happily obliged. He put the phone on speaker and set it on the pillow beside his head. He kept one hand rolling his balls, his finger occasionally brushing against the sensitive skin directly behind them. His other hand pumped hard and fast, squeezing harder than he had before just from the sheer excitement and need. Occasionally, he could hear moans coming from Blaine's end of the line and it wasn't long before Kurt was coming in long spurts all over his black silk sheets.
He lay there, panting and listening with his eyes screwed shut as Blaine continued to make low noises from the back of his throat until he came, whispering softly into the phone, "Kurt."
Kurt smiled, turning the phone off speaker and pinning it between his ear and his shoulder.
"I love you, Blaine," Kurt said confidently.
A few moments passed of Blaine breathing heavily into the phone before he finally spoke, his voice deep and raspy and almost enough to make Kurt's cock want to be hard again so soon.
"I love you so fucking much, Kurt," Blaine said.
Kurt smiled, then let out a nervous little giggle before saying, "Then we shall be doing this again sometime?"
Blaine laughed too.
"Anytime you want."
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