Prompt December 10th: Jukebox
It's a heady rush to know he can play Blaine like an instrument. It's intoxication to realize that the touch of the fingertip really is that sexy, and can elicit a wide range of sounds from his wrecked boyfriend.
But it isn't merely Kurt's fingertips. With his lips or with his tongue, or his dick, he can pull out something, anything from Blaine's repertoire. When Kurt's lucky, or rather when he's good, a certain look is all it takes. Whatever the mood, Blaine always has the soundtrack. Kurt's body is the quarter he needs to play Blaine like a jukebox. He knows exactly which buttons to push, to make Blaine whimper, moan, sigh, hum, stutter, ramble on, go entirely silent, plead, beg, scream, and sometimes even swear, that dapper one. He knows how to get him there quickly, and he knows how to prolong it. He knows Blaine's symphonies and harmonies, he knows how to make him shine and glow, almost dancing in vibrant colours, in joy from creating their special music together.
The best thing, though, is that Blaine knows exactly how to treat Kurt like his jukebox too.