DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee, Fox does. And Ryan Murphy. Title is from "Death Valley" by Fall Out Boy.
Warnings for bp!Blaine, lots of squirting. I am also fully and completely prepared for the nasty anon reviews I'll get, so bring it on, bitches.
Tumblr is here (endofadream)
The question has been on Kurt's mind all day, and even when he tries not to think about it he still thinks about it. He's been staring at Blaine's lap for the better part of the last half-hour, and he's sure that Blaine has to have noticed by now, especially since Kurt's been on the same page in his history textbook for longer than that.
He just can't help but wonder. They've had sex more than a few times by now, but it's been routine stuff, usual stuff. Neither has tried to go out of their way to experiment, and Kurt's almost kind of glad, because despite how comfortable he's gotten with sex since he and Blaine had started discussing it and then having it, it's still kind of terrifying for those first few minutes every time. But they both fumble; they've both had awkward moments, and it brings them closer together every time.
"Hey." Fingers snap, and it takes a few seconds for Kurt to react. Blaine's holding out a hand and smiling, and Kurt feels his face and neck heat up as he averts his eyes quickly back down to his textbook. "What's up, Kurt? You were like a million miles away. And definitely not studying." He looks down at his lap. "Is there something on my pants?"
"I—" Kurt doesn't want to say it, not so forthright. It's embarrassing enough to think about, and he hates that his blush is giving away that he isn't just wondering where Blaine got his jeans (and he already knows, so that question would be pointless, anyway). "I, um…" He swallows hard and turns to look Blaine head-on, says in a jumbled rush, "Iwannaknowifyoucansquirt."
Blaine blinks, once, but still smiles. His eyes are still warm and honey, and his face doesn't betray any form of emotion besides that. Kurt feels his face heat up even more, feels the prickly rush of embarrassment sweat under his arms, and he closes his textbook quickly, makes to get up as he says, "Never mind, it's nothing—"
Blaine grabs his wrist before Kurt can stand up. "I can."
There's an obvious palpitation in Kurt's heart, and he swallows hard before he says, turning to face Blaine slowly, "Y-You can?"
Blaine lets go of Kurt's wrist and laughs, nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He looks down at his own textbook, then closes it. He uncrosses and then re-crosses his legs, and says, "I—yeah. I can."
Kurt exhales slowly. "Wow. Okay."
They don't speak for a moment, and it seems to stretch on into eons. The silence isn't necessarily awkward, but it's long enough that Kurt is beginning to wonder and imagine. He imagines making Blaine squirt, wonders what he'd look like, if it'd be any different than any other orgasm. He imagines the noises Blaine already makes, then wonders if he could finally make Blaine scream.
Finally, Kurt breaks the silence with a tentative, "Um, well, your parents aren't home…"
And then, in the next moment, their combined textbooks are falling to the floor with echoing thuds, and Kurt's back is being pressed into the mattress. Blaine is on him, heavy, and his lips are slick and warm where they slide against Kurt's.
Blaine rocks against Kurt, and his voice is breathy and desperate when he says, "God, Kurt, you have no idea how long I've wanted you to make me squirt." Kisses Kurt again, slides his tongue slick into Kurt's mouth, and Kurt has barely a second to suck on it before it's gone.
Blaine grabs Kurt's hand, leads it between his legs and to the seam of his jeans. Kurt presses right where he knows Blaine's clit is and Blaine keens, rocking down and tossing his head back, eyes squeezed shut and lines of his forehead deepening. Kurt rubs, slow and teasing, and Blaine begins to pant and whimper, the muscles of his thighs stretching and tightening.
"Will you show me?" Kurt asks, soft against Blaine's mouth again. He moves his hand up and deftly undoes Blaine's button and zipper, then slides his hand into Blaine's briefs. The close-trimmed dark hair is softly coarse against Kurt's palm as his fingers slip between slickly hot skin, and he rubs over Blaine's stiffening clit before sliding further back to the damp clench of his entrance.
"You want me to—?" Blaine's eyes are wide, and his jaw is slack. He looks down at Kurt and Kurt nods, still working his fingers over Blaine's pussy. The slide of his fingers squelches, and Kurt's cock twitches in his jeans as Blaine shudders, bites his lip.
Blaine swallows, returns Kurt's nod, and grabs Kurt's wrist. He maneuvers Kurt's hand out of his jeans, doesn't break eye contact as he opens his mouth and slides Kurt's fingers in. Kurt groans at the thick slide of Blaine's tongue, eyes falling to half-lid as Blaine's teeth gently bite and scrape over his skin.
"Let me get some towels," Blaine says when he lets Kurt's fingers slip from his mouth with a pop that leaves Kurt groaning. He's up and gone before Kurt can ask what for, and suddenly he's alone on Blaine's bed, desperately hard and aching horribly. He can hear Blaine rummaging around in his en suite, and he quickly shimmies his jeans down, toeing off his socks and stripping off his shirt.
Blaine eyes him appreciatively when he walks back in, three soft blue towels in his arms. Kurt takes one look at the towels and raises his eyebrow. "Do you really need that many?"
Blaine laughs, then shoos Kurt off the bed. He carefully lays them out so that they're covering most of the comforter, and when he turns to look at Kurt he looks strangely shy. "I, um, get kind of messy when I do this. Believe me."
Kurt swallows to dampen his mouth, and he wonders how many times, exactly, that Blaine has done this.
Blaine pulls open the bottom drawer of his nightstand, rummages around for a few seconds, and then procures a small, thin pink rod with a curved, bulbous end. He sets it on the bed and Kurt says, skeptically, "What's that?"
Blaine strips off his shirt, and Kurt watches the ripple of muscles under tanned skin. He works off his pants next, and Kurt can't resist pulling him in and kissing him, hard and deep. He clutches at Blaine's waist and Blaine clutches at his shoulders, moaning in breathy little pants.
"It's a G-spot stimulator," he replies when they part enough to breathe, sucking on Kurt's lower lip. "It's way better than a regular dildo. You'll see."
"Then you should show me," Kurt replies, letting his lips twitch half-up into a smirk. He works his fingers under the waistband of Blaine's briefs, works them down until Blaine's pussy is exposed. "Show me how you touch that sweet pussy when I'm not here, baby."
Kurt's caught him off-guard, he can tell, and Blaine swallows hard, an echoing gulp, and he doesn't blink as he nods, says, "Yeah, okay. Okay." He steps out of his underwear, climbs onto the bed and carefully situates himself on the towels.
He takes a deep breath, letting his head fall comfortably back against the pillows. He spreads his legs a little more, smiles up at Kurt and picks up the toy. He rubs it over his clit a few times, sighing pleasantly, before he slides it in and twists his wrist up. Immediately his body is reacting, his hips arching up and his back bowing. He lets out a noise and begins to work it in and out with fast, practiced strokes, and Kurt can tell when he's about to come, can see it in the pinch between his brows, the familiar gape of his mouth and the whine in the back of his throat.
"Oh, fuck," Blaine gasps, pressing the dildo upward once more, and when he slides it out he rubs over his clit and he's coming, Kurt echoing his gasp as Blaine's pussy clenches and liquid spurts out to soak the sheets and Blaine's thighs. It lasts for only a few seconds, and before Kurt can react Blaine is sliding the dildo back in and repeating until he keens and comes again, the clear stream arching upward this time to splatter over his chest and arm.
He's left gasping and whimpering, eyes still squeezed shut. His head tips back, exposing the bob of his throat as he swallows hard. Kurt squeezes his cock, letting out a moan, and Blaine cracks open his eyes, laughs, and says, "I told you it gets messy."
The towels under Blaine are spotted darkly damp, and Kurt nods dumbly, says, "No kidding."
Blaine laughs again, spreads himself with two fingers, giving Kurt a perfect view of the flushed-red skin of his pussy, the slight openness of his entrance. He rubs over himself, then grabs the dildo from the towel next to him, slides it back in. He takes his time, working it slow, then fast, then slow again. His body writhes in ways Kurt's never managed to make it before, and without really realizing what he's doing Kurt is slipping his cock from his underwear and stroking over himself.
Blaine sees, and his voice is strained as he edges himself again. "God, baby, yes, touch your big cock for me. Fuck, I want it, want it in me now, want you to make me come, make me squirt, I—I'm gonna—oh fuck!"
"God," Kurt gasps as Blaine comes again, fingers rubbing hard over his clit as his hips lift and his pussy pulses a stream of clear liquid up over his arm with a hiss-spurt. Blaine is panting, whining, and he grabs clumsily for the dildo, picking it up with slick fingers and rubbing it over his clit before pushing it in. His thighs spread and they glisten in the light; Blaine's whole body glistens with it: it's on his neck, over a small, dusky-brown nipple, over the heave of his abdomen and the dark hair of his pussy. "You're fucking soaked."
Blaine works the dildo in a few more times, panting, and comes seconds later with a whining gasp. His thighs clamp shut, skin sliding slickly together, and he bites his lip, rubs over his pussy and squirts weakly with a gasping moan.
When Blaine moves again to slide the dildo back in Kurt's climbing on the bed, the towels cool and damp under his knees. His underwear is on the floor, crumpled next to his jeans, and he grabs the slick, smooth insides of Blaine's thighs, spreads them wide and then lets go with one hand to line his cock up and push in.
Blaine arches off the bed when Kurt bottoms out and grabs at Kurt's shoulders. "Yes, ohhh fuck yes, Kurt, fuck me fuck me fuck me."
His legs wrap tight around Kurt's waist, chest pressing slickly against Kurt's. Kurt gasps as Blaine clenches around him, and when he presses his lips to Blaine's neck, fucking in hard, he tastes Blaine, headier and more than he's ever tasted before.
"You're so fucking hot," Kurt says, kissing Blaine messily. He sucks on Blaine's lower lip, nips at it, says, "So fucking wet for me. Wish I could eat you out, taste your sweet pussy on my lips for hours afterwards." He fucks in, gripping at Blaine's thigh, and lets out a barely-audible grunt.
"Please," Blaine gasps, tipping his head back. He rolls into Kurt's next thrust, and Kurt can feel the pinch of his nails as he digs into Kurt's shoulders. "Fuck my pussy, baby, make me come. Make me squirt."
Kurt pulls back, lifts himself onto his knees and drags Blaine further up onto his lap. Blaine looks up at him, eyes sparkling playfully, and grabs at the pillow as his legs drape open around Kurt's hips. Kurt fucks shallowly in, thumbing over Blaine's clit, and Blaine gasps, eyes sliding shut. "Oh, yes. There, baby, there, yes yes yes. Don't stop, fuck me, Kurt, fuck me."
Kurt changes angles, shifting and fucking in again, and he barely rubs over the stiff of Blaine's clit before Blaine is screaming, short and choked-off, and tightening around his cock. Kurt pulls out just as Blaine begins to squirt, and he gasps when it hits him over the chest, warm and slick as it slides down his skin. He can feel the tremble of Blaine's body where he still clutches at his thigh with one hand, and he pushes back in, fucking harder and harder as their skin slaps wetly together. The towels move under him and the bed creaks, and it isn't long before Blaine comes again with a wail, and this time Kurt's cock is all but pushed out as he squirts.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Blaine whimpers. His hair is damp with sweat, with his own juices, and the light catches on his skin, makes it shine with individual droplets like dew. He opens his eyes, barely-focused hazel, and looks at Kurt as he lazily drags his fingers over his clit. He grasps Kurt's cock, and Kurt gasps, fucking into Blaine's fist as his fingers clench onto Blaine's thigh.
Blaine smiles, lazy and sated, and strokes over Kurt as he murmurs, "C'mon, baby, come for me. Come on me. Make me filthy. Make me your filthy boy."
It's only a second more before Kurt comes, spurting white over the slick skin of Blaine's thighs and the dark, damp hair of his pussy. He closes his eyes as Blaine works him through it, breathes out shuddery as his cock jerks weakly one last time.
"Shit." It's gasped, barely audible, and Blaine's clean hand tangles in his hair, drags him down for a kiss. The sound of their lips sliding together is loud and obscene in Kurt's ears, and it makes him shiver pleasantly.
Blaine laughs against Kurt's lips, and Kurt can feel more than see him smile. "It was good, right?"
"More than good." Kurt kisses his chin and then sits back. They're both a mess, and the towels are soaked. Kurt feels liquid-loose, and he returns Blaine's smile easily.
Blaine looks down at himself, his slick, flushed-red skin, the opalescent smears of Kurt's come, and his lips twitch up; he looks at Kurt through a curtain of thick black lashes, says coyly, "I think we should get cleaned up. What do you say?"
"I say," Kurt says, smirking down at him, "that we clean off and then do all it all over again."
"Mmm." Blaine gets up on his elbows, kisses Kurt slowly, chastely, and says, "I say that you're the best boyfriend ever and I love you."
"I love you, too," Kurt says, though it's lost to a laugh as he hefts Blaine up and Blaine squeals, wrapping his legs around Kurt's waist and his arms tightly around Kurt's neck.