This is a Klainofsky story (Kurt/Blaine/Karofsky), but it starts as a Blainofsky story. The first four chapters are exclusively Blainofsky and then a Klaine storyline begins to develop. This IS a love story, though at times it may not appear to be. Every chapter contains some form of sexual encounter. This story is NOT for readers with weak stomachs or impressionable minds.
Featured in this story: BDSM, sub/Dom relationships, spanking, snuggling, stalking, dirty talk, sexual violence, crazy/stalker/slut/sub!Blaine, Dom!Dave, (eventually) teddy-bear!Dave.
CHAPTER FOUR – I SEE YOU
The hum of the treadmill mingled with the patter of rain and punctuated by the rhythmic thumps of his feet on the belt was enough to lull Dave into a kind of trance. Of course, the sound was aided by the endorphins pumping through his body as he ran.
Before Blaine came around this was the only thing that really helped him relax. Exercise and food. Lots of exercise. Lots of food. It made him feel better and it made him get bigger – stronger. Tough enough to knock down anybody who got in his way.
So on a no Blaine night – and so far this looked to be one – the treadmill was where he found himself.
He thought about texting Blaine but he didn't want to seem needy. They'd been together the previous night and he could wait a night before he had to text. He wasn't hard up anymore – Blaine texted all the time – and he could wait. Besides he liked it so much when Blaine texted first – liked knowing Blaine wanted him – knowing anybody wanted him, but especially Blaine.
As far as Dave could tell, besides being completely insane, Blaine was absolute perfection – the exact image of what a guy was supposed to be – beautiful and strong and confident. And all of the weird personality stuff – all of the ways in which Blaine was not normal – didn't really bother Dave. It was actually kind of exciting to be so close to someone so different. As long as Dave was bigger and tougher he didn't care how insane Blaine got because any new destructive quirk that reared its head just built a new desire to tame and conquer.
He ran and he loved the heat in his muscles, the feeling of blood pumping, the way his lungs opened deeper to take in enough oxygen. He closed his eyes and breathed and a smile spread across his lips. With every step he got stronger and faster.
A buzz brought him back from his reverie – a buzz from the middle of the family room, from his cell phone sitting face down on the coffee table. Blaine, he thought, steps faltering for just a moment as his eyes ran to the phone. No, he thought, just a half mile more, then you can see what it is. It might not even be Blaine. He picked up the pace again and licked sweat from his upper lip. He didn't know but he hoped it was Blaine. Just half a mile more.
He closed his eyes again and smiled and he ran.
A minute passed and then the phone buzzed again. He laughed out loud, eyeing the phone with delight, as though he was eyeing Blaine himself. He pictured Blaine on the floor – kneeling, begging for it. He loved how bad Blaine needed it. Just a few more minutes.
Again he closed his eyes, but the phone buzzed again and again, and only Blaine sent texts like that, in an unanswered string. And when he did, they were usually filthy.
Finally – half mile forgotten – Dave slowed the treadmill so he could cool down a little before getting off. He rubbed beads of sweat from his forehead and breathed slow. He pressed his fingers to the side of his neck, just below his jaw, checking and waiting for his pulse to slow down enough for him to get off.
The phone buzzed again and he laughed – Damn, he wants it – killing the treadmill and walking lazily over to the sofa. He dropped into a seat and grabbed the phone, reading the first of the several texts, all of which were, in fact, from Blaine.
"I see you." Read the first.
Dave's eyes widened as he skimmed the rest of the texts and then looked around. The room was empty. The world outside the windows was dark and revealed nothing. His eyes paused on the window in front of him, and he stared. He's gotta be out there. How else would he...? Dave's eyes flicked back down to the rest of the texts – the proof that Blaine was watching.
"I see the sweat running down your back.
"I see your calves flexing.
"I see you not answering your phone. Bad boy.
"If you don't answer soon I might have to come in and interrupt you.
"I might have to lick that bead of sweat off your neck. I might have to bite."
Dave's chest constricted, and he tried to breathe like a normal person – tried to think like a normal person – but FUCK Blaine was crazy, and FUCK Blaine was good. Good at getting Dave to panic and revel at the same time. Good at being everything that wasn't supposed to exist in normal society. Dave typed a hasty message without giving it much thought, "What are you doing?" and thumbed the send button.
In agony, Dave waited for a reply. He didn't even care if the reply had anything to do with the question – he just needed more – needed to know where this rabbit hole went. When Blaine did finally answer, all he sent back was, "Take off your shirt."
Dave coughed and looked around again – embarrassed and excited at the same time. His eyes stopped at the window, trying to see through the glare from the lights. His brain leapt at the idea of the situation reversed – watching Blaine undress behind a pane of glass. His pulse picked up and he looked away from the window, biting his lip. The phone buzzed again in Dave's hand and he looked down at it.
"I said, take off your shirt."
Slowly, Dave stood. He'd never, until that very moment, considered the possibility of being a stripper or anything of the sort – eye-candy. The new thought was intoxicating. Watch me. He pulled at the hem of his t-shirt and bit his lip, pausing like that, eyes on the floor – not because he thought it looked sexy (he was not familiar with feigned timidity as a trick in a stripper's arsenal) but because he was genuinely nervous. In fact, his stomach was churning – not enough to make him actually think he might puke, but enough to bring the idea of the possibility into his head. He closed his eyes and pulled the shirt up over his head, telling himself no one was watching to make it easier. Then, all that was left was a pair of baggy old sweat pants and Dave's broad and bare chest. He dropped the shirt onto the coffee table and picked the phone back up, waiting.
After a moment, another message came, "Getting hard yet?"
Dave felt heat rush to his face. He wasn't hard. He'd felt early stirrings, but he was more nervous than anything else. He didn't know how to answer it so he just stared at the phone, trying to think through a head full of cotton.
Another buzz brought, "Touch yourself."
At that Dave glared out the window for a split second before lowering his eyes and texting back, "No dude. My parents are home." He hit send and went back to glaring. It was one of those lines – one of those over the top quirks that needed to be tamed. He's just too damn forward. But even while he was angry at Blaine for the suggestion, he felt his cock stiffening at the thought. The answer came back immediately.
"They're upstairs. You'll hear them coming."
Dave read and groaned. He sat back down on the sofa, covering his face in his hands, and tried to will his cock to stay down, but it was throbbing just at that thought – jerking off for Blaine's viewing pleasure, and he didn't have to look down to know his sweat pants weren't ideal boner-cover. Blaine would never give up once he saw it. Dave knew what the sight of his cock did to Blaine. He wanted to laugh and yell in fury at the same time. He wanted to be pissed at Blaine – was pissed at Blaine – but his heartstrings tugged at Blaine's quirky perversions.
Dave rubbed his eyes, trying to piece together his thoughts – trying to make some decision about what he was going to do but it was all too jumbled to make sense. The phone buzzed and he lifted it to read. "Do it now or I'll come in and do it myself."
Sighing, Dave sat back. It was clear in the space of an instant – instinct took over – he wanted to do it. He put a hand over his bulge, rubbing gently and closing his eyes. The thought of Blaine watching – watching and maybe doing the same thing out in the dark – crept into Dave's head and he groaned softly, biting back a second groan for fear he'd be heard upstairs. He expected Blaine's next text to insist he whip it out and start jerking off and, although the thought of being caught terrified him, he was starting to really want to do it – for Blaine.
But all the next text said was, "Regret giving me your number yet?"
Dave laughed despite himself and stopped rubbing to text back, "Just a little." His breath came short and he bit his lip.
"Just a little?"
"A very little."
Dave couldn't stop himself from grinning. "What now?" he typed, "No more orders?" He hoped there would be more orders.
There was a pause and Dave's cock throbbed deliciously but he didn't want to give Blaine anything he didn't ask for.
"Come find me."
Dave's eyes widened and he looked out the window with a huge smile before jumping off the couch and running to the hall. This was better. This was better than playing at a distance. This meant smelling, touching, tasting Blaine. Seeing Blaine. He grabbed a zip up hoodie from the hall closet, put it on in a rush, dropped his phone in the pocket, and then slipped out the back door as quietly as he could.
Drops of rain hit Dave's face and cooled his skin – still hot from the run – but it wasn't raining hard, just a soft sprinkle.
Submerged in darkness he could see a little better, but Blaine was nowhere. "Blaine," he hissed, walking around looking up at the branches of trees, trying to think where he would hide for peeping purposes and feeling a little proud of himself for being clueless on that front. "Blaine, where are you?"
He heard the side gate creak and hurried around to the side yard just in time to see it close gently against the post. He opened the gate and slipped out to the front yard, catching a glimpse of Blaine walking away, carrying an open umbrella, dressed in a black raincoat. Dave turned back to close and latch the gate with careful fingers before following Blaine down onto the sidewalk at a distance of several yards.
Blaine picked up his pace, walking down the wet concrete in red galoshes that made him look like a little kid.
Dave hurried to catch up. "Wait up," he hissed, but Blaine just moved faster, glancing back with an open-mouth smirk. "Dammit Blaine," Dave muttered, breaking into a jog.
As soon as Dave started jogging, Blaine broke into a run, putting a surprising gap between them in the space of a few seconds. He can run! Dave ran after him – hair wet with rain so that it was dripping down his face. He tried to keep pace and gave up on catching him.
They rounded a corner and came out onto a main road and Dave watched Blaine run through pools of light cast by streetlamps, watched his feet come down in puddles and send up huge splashes of water, soaking the legs of his jeans. Then, Blaine – so far ahead – turned and Dave's heart leapt. He was entering a dog-walking trail through a grove of trees – a winding, unpaved path, muddied by the rain. On better days, Dave liked to run this path and he knew exactly how secluded it was – exactly how easy it was to get lost in those trees.
And then Blaine was gone, hidden in the brush and the darkness, and transformed into nothing but the sound of dull footsteps on the trail. And then even that was gone.
Dave ran down the trail just a little while and then slowed to a walk, breathing hard and looking around, but he could see very little in the faint moonlight trickling through the treetops.
He stopped and swallowed and cursed himself for not bringing a flashlight – as though he could have prepared for Blaine's upcoming craziness.
"Blaine?" he called out, but not loud enough to be heard by anyone outside the grove.
No answer came. Slowly, Dave started to walk forward, wondering if Blaine had the good sense to stay on the trail. After a moment, Dave heard a twig snap behind him and turned just in time to catch a sliver of Blaine's backside disappearing behind a tree. He bolted in that direction and ran behind the tree, but Blaine was veiled by darkness, wherever he'd gotten to. Dave walked all the way around the tree breathing hard and thinking, where would I hide? He saw something move in his peripherals and bolted toward it before his eyes fully registered whether or not it was Blaine – and, of course, it was. Blaine dodged around another tree but Dave was right on him, grabbing him by the collar of his raincoat and yanking. Blaine stumbled back into Dave's broad frame.
Thoughtless, Dave's arm curled around Blaine's wet coat and one hand slid inside to grab at Blaine's crotch as they stood, breathless, chest to back. He needed to know how hard Blaine was, how much Blaine loved teasing him. Blaine groaned and leaned back against Dave.
"What are you running from?" Dave asked, squeezing and rubbing Blaine's erection through his jeans.
"Big bad wolf," Blaine whispered, shrugging his shoulders to loosen the coat's fit.
Dave licked Blaine's neck, which was still mostly dry, thanks to the umbrella. He rubbed his wet face against the dry skin and grinned as Blaine shivered. But the umbrella was mysteriously absent. Had Dave been any older and any less focused on what his cock had to say about things, he might've noticed that. But he wasn't and he didn't.
Blaine's arm swung suddenly upward and Dave didn't have any time to realize what was happening. The collapsed umbrella connected sharply with the side of Dave's head and he cried out, "fuck!" The impact dazed him and gave Blaine just enough time to drop the umbrella and slip out of the coat, bolting off down the path, deeper into the grove. "Bitch!" Dave yelled, dropping the coat onto a bush and chasing after him, head ringing.
He was already out of sight and Dave was too busy cursing Blaine's speed and trying to see straight to notice the footsteps stop. He narrowly dodged a bench on his way, spotting it just in time and lunging to the side to avoid hitting it without slowing his pace.
Suddenly, Blaine stepped out right in front of him from behind a tree crying, "Boo!" with a grin.
Startled and trying not to crash into Blaine, Dave stopped in his tracks teetering, eyes squeezed shut in anger. "Dammit Blaine!" he said through clenched teeth, opening his eyes to glare at Blaine's glee.
Blaine laughed and darted away but Dave was right on his heels, and he was pissed the hell off. Blaine's foot caught on a rock and he stumbled just a little, slowing him enough for Dave to catch his elbow and yank him back again. Dave grabbed both of Blaine's wrists, twisting them behind his back like he was a cop apprehending a criminal, and paused to breathe. Blaine kept laughing and, infuriated, Dave walked him forward and pushed him up against a tree.
"Don't do that again. Don't hit me," Dave growled in Blaine's ear. "And stop running away." His cock was hard and throbbing painfully now that he had Blaine in his grasp.
"Why?" Blaine asked like a little kid screwing with a teacher.
"Because it's a pain in the ass."
"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah." Blaine laughed and thrust his hips backward so his ass pressed against Dave's hard-on. He grinded. "You're not enjoying this at all, are you?"
Dave groaned, body relaxing just a little though he kept his hands tight on Blaine's wrists.
"This isn't even a little bit fun," Blaine whispered.
Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth Dave slammed himself against Blaine and forced him harder into the tough bark of the tree. He found himself smiling at the sudden grunt that escaped Blaine as the air was forced from his lungs. "Getting clocked in the head with an umbrella isn't fun."
Blaine laughed as much as he could with so little room to breathe. Defiant to the end. Dave pushed him harder against the trunk. Blaine grunted and then muttered, "Just consider it payback for the punch."
For a moment, Dave just breathed, deciding to accept that as fair, as he continued to get his bearings back. "Fine," he muttered, "but no more hitting."
Blaine breathed hard and then nodded. "Okay. No more hitting. What about slapping?"
Dave thought about that for a moment, licking his lips and thinking about how much he enjoyed slapping Blaine's ass. "Slapping is fine. No hitting with a closed fist. No hitting with a blunt object."
"Okay. No more hitting."
Dave pushed his hips just a little bit farther forward, making Blaine whine.
"I promise," Blaine muttered.
Dave relaxed the pressure on Blaine's body, but didn't pull away, and didn't let go of his wrists. Drops fell from the branches above onto Dave's already wet face. One of Blaine's hands, freed just a little after the release, started to stroke Dave's stomach through the hoodie. Dave bit his lip. Blaine's fingers teased downward and he tugged against Dave's hold just a little – just enough to let Dave know what he wanted.
"Let me?" Blaine asked.
Slowly, Dave pulled Blaine's wrists down, letting Blaine's palm slide down his stomach to the waistband of his pants. Blaine's sneaky fingers slipped under the elastic and Dave lowered them further until Blaine's hand was cupping his cock through his briefs and rubbing gently over it. Dave let out a shuddering gasp – relieved to finally receive some attention. Blaine struggled against his hold, just a little, to sneak his hand inside the cloth and grab Dave's erection – skin on skin. He stroked slowly up and down it with a tight fist and Dave moaned, relaxing his hold to give Blaine a better range of motion.
"Fuck, Blaine," Dave muttered as Blaine started to pump faster, bringing Dave closer to the edge. Dave released one hand from the hold he had on Blaine and slid it around, mindlessly fantasizing about returning the favor.
In an instant, Blaine was free. The waistband of Dave's briefs snapped against his stomach as Blaine's hand slid out and he leapt out to the side laughing. Dave's arm swept out at him, trying to pull him back but Blaine danced out of his reach.
"What the FUCK, dude? Not cool!" Dave whined, taking a few steps toward Blaine though his now painful erection would make running impossible. But Blaine didn't run. He stayed at a distance – not close enough to reach but not far enough to disappear in the thick trees.
"I promised not to hit. I didn't promise not to sneak away," Blaine said with a smart-ass grin.
"Well, then I want that too." Dave took a step toward him and Blaine took a step back. Every time Dave tried to get just a little bit closer he'd move back or to the side, but he didn't run. That meant he was ready to be caught for real but he wasn't going to give up without a fight.
"No more sneaking?" Blaine shook his head and pouted. "Now where's the fun in that?" He laughed.
"The fun in that, is me fucking you." After everything that had happened that night, Dave was tired and wasn't sure he could give Blaine the big finish he seemed to be hoping for.
"Yeah, but I get that either way. I have to sneak. It's in my blood."
Dave breathed and thought quietly, finally saying, "and if I don't like it, I shouldn't be fooling around with a sneaky fuck like you?" Dave leered, one eye tighter than the other.
"Something like that." Blaine smirked.
Dave lunged at Blaine, and Blaine danced backward laughing. Dave took a step forward and Blaine took a step back, grinning that open-mouth grin. Rain dripped down Blaine's face making it glitter in the faint light of the moon. Gorgeous. There was no way for Dave to cool down enough to make this work – enough to catch the sneaky bastard.
"I could just leave, you know?" Dave asked. "I could just walk away and leave you hot and bothered in the rain."
"You wouldn't. You'd be leaving yourself just the same."
Dave looked down, gathering up the right emotion in his stomach so he could put it convincingly on his face. He looked up, smirking. "Maybe I'd get off on denying you."
Blaine expression flickered, and Dave's smirk turned into a grin.
"Not so badass, now, are you?" Dave rolled his shoulders, looked down at the mud and then glanced sideways at the trees around him, looking over the whole area, thinking it over, and keeping that smug expression on his face. He turned sharply and walked back up the path like he was heading home.
"Dave!" Blaine called out. "Come on. Don't be an ass. Get back here."
Dave kept walking, shaking his head and smiling. He turned his head and called back, "Fuck you, Anderson." He heard Blaine's footsteps, running up behind, and breathed slow, waiting for them to get closer.
"Don't do this, Dave. Please. I—"
He felt Blaine's hand on his back and turned grabbing Blaine's arm, forcing him backward and making him stumble. He pushed Blaine into a tree until they stood face-to-face, chest-to-chest. Blaine gasped and stared into Dave's face in shock.
Dave smirked. "You think you're the only one here who knows how to fuck with someone's head?" Dave pressed his hips up against Blaine's, grinning and grinding.
Blaine moaned, but didn't laugh – smugness robbed by the threat of losing Dave's interest. "Fuck me," he whispered, staring up into Dave's eyes so the faint distant light of the moon glinted off his dark pupils.
"I intend to," Dave whispered back. He kissed Blaine hard, on the mouth, licking the drops of rain from Blaine's lips.
Blaine groaned, tilting his head to the side and rubbing his wet nose across Dave's cheekbone. Dave slid his knee between Blaine's legs, forcing them apart and Blaine dropped down immediately, pressing against Dave's thigh and grinding. His free arm slid around Dave's neck, supporting himself as he started to thrust forward again and again wantonly.
They kissed, and Dave moaned as rain pattered against their faces and drops ran down from their drenched hair. Dave tasted the sweet chemical flavor of Blaine's hair gel and wrinkled his nose but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. It tasted a bit like it smelled, and that smell was so much a part of Blaine that he couldn't imagine one without the other.
Dave pulled away, making Blaine whine at the loss of contact and then dragged Blaine from the tree. He got Blaine in front of him, arm pinned to his back, and pushed him forward down the path. It was the way they walked together, Dave in charge.
"Where are we going?" Blaine asked.
"You'll see."
They walked until they were a yard away from that bench Dave had dodged during their chase, and then Dave stopped and ran a hand down to Blaine's fly, unzipping it and listening to the way that made Blaine groan. "You ready for this, Princess?" Dave asked, pressing his hips against Blaine's ass, letting him feel his hard-on.
"Always," Blaine murmured.
Dave slid a flat palm down Blaine's hip, inside his jeans, just feeling the wet skin for a moment before turning his hand and yanking at the denim. It barely budged. He only got the waist down a few inches; the fabric was stuck to Blaine's body by the rain. Dave grumbled and tried to peel the fabric away, clumsy with the use of only one hand. He needed both, but he didn't trust Blaine not to run away again – wouldn't trust him until his pants were around his knees, restraining him from running, and might not trust him even then.
So, he walked Blaine further forward, and pinned the fronts of Blaine's knees against the bench. Dave planted his feet outside Blaine's, and then, convinced that Blaine was blocked well enough from escape, Dave released Blaine's wrist and slid both hands to the waist of Blaine's jeans.
He tried to tug the jeans down but still they wouldn't go so he forced Blaine to turn and face him, thinking of getting a better grip by making him lean back against the bench.
"Why'd you wear such tight pants in the fucking rain?" Dave muttered and then bit his lip, eyes down on Blaine's hips, nearly impossible to see beyond rough outlines through the darkness and the blur from his rain saturated eyelashes.
"Because I figured it'd give me enough time to do something like this," Blaine said, yanking down the zipper on Dave's hoodie and pushing it open, exposing Dave's chest to the rain.
Dave's eyes jumped up to Blaine's and he saw that old familiar smirk. The cold air hit him and made him shiver.
"Always gotta have your way, don't you?" Dave asked, breathing and watching as Blaine leaned in.
"Yep," Blaine whispered before kissing Dave's lips.
Dave's eyes closed and his grip on Blaine's hips tightened. Blaine's hands roamed over Dave's stomach, sides, ribs, chest, and then rested at his nipples, thumbing them gently. Dave gasped at the contact and suddenly needed to do the same to Blaine. His hands ran up to Blaine's button up shirt, undoing the buttons and pushing him backward at the same time.
Blaine toppled down onto the bench and gasped, recoiling from the metal, and muttering, "cold."
"I didn't pick the location," Dave murmured, pulling Blaine's shirt wide open and pawing at Blaine's perfect chest. He knelt on the bench, legs splayed around Blaine's body.
Blaine straightened up, trapped between Dave and the bench. He ran his hands up Dave's thighs and he kissed Dave's chest. Dave's cock twitched. Then Blaine's tongue ran over his nipple and Dave's eyes closed involuntarily. Blaine's hand found Dave's cock – still covered in the thick, damp cloth of his sweat pants – and rubbed gently. It felt so good to finally have contact there but it reminded Dave of the previous escape attempt so he batted Blaine's hand away.
Blaine just kept kissing and licking at Dave's chest, unruffled by the denial.
"Pants off," Dave ordered, "or down anyway."
Blaine complied immediately, lifting off the seat and supporting himself with one elbow on the bench-back. He peeled those tight jeans down to his knees, revealing those beautiful, toned thighs, glittering as raindrops hit them, and then went back to lapping at the fine layer of hair covering Dave's chest. "Love the taste of your sweat," Blaine murmured, freeing his cock from his briefs and stroking himself gently. "Thanks for putting on the hoodie – saving it from the rain for me."
Dave laughed but didn't correct Blaine. He stood from the bench to give Blaine room to move and said, "stand up, turn around."
"Wait," Blaine murmured, looking down and smirking. For a moment, Dave thought Blaine might try to escape again so he tensed and waited for it, but Blaine just reached down into the pocket of his crumpled jeans and pulled out a condom. Dave nodded but didn't relax. Anything could be a trick.
Blaine reached up and pulled Dave's sweat pants and briefs down just enough for them to slip below Dave's ass and free his cock. Cold drops of rain hit Dave's newly exposed skin and made him shiver. He closed one big hand around his dick, covering the head and part of the shaft, stroking it and keeping it warm. So close... Blaine unwrapped the condom and put it in his mouth. Dave's eyes flew wide.
Blaine slid, slouching, further down the bench between Dave's legs, lowering his lips to cock level, but Dave's mind tore between excitement and anxiety as Blaine inched closer to an escape.
Blaine grabbed Dave's cock at the base, and nudged Dave's hand off the head. Dave grabbed Blaine's hair, and Blaine looked up into Dave, eyes glinting as he slowly moved forward, mouth open. His lips enveloped the head of Dave's cock, sheathing it in latex. Dave's fingers tightened in Blaine's hair.
Closing his eyes, Blaine bobbed and pushed the condom further down each time – humming and sending vibrations through Dave's flesh.
Dave's eyes lost the ability to focus as he felt himself slide into Blaine's humming throat and he squeezed at the tufts of Blaine's hair tangled between his fingers. "Oh, God," he muttered.
Blaine bobbed for just a moment more, letting the head of Dave's cock pop in and out of his throat and then pulled back.
Dave's eyes refocused on Blaine's face – his spit-wet lips, his rain-wet cheeks, his glassy eyes. For a moment he just stared.
"This bench is so cold," Blaine said with a smirk. "Maybe we could find something warmer to press against my ass?"
A grin spread across Dave's face and he nodded. He tugged gently at Blaine's hair, guiding him up to his feet and then put his hands on Blaine's shoulders, turning him around to face the bench. He didn't have to guide Blaine down into a good position – Blaine moved on his own, kneeling on the seat and leaning forward with his elbows on the bench-back.
One hand on his cock, one hand on Blaine's ass, Dave spread Blaine, looking at the way the moonlight glinted off the wet curves of Blaine's body. In the dark it was hard to see the hidden contours of Blaine's ass so he had to find Blaine's hole by touch. He guided his cock down the cleft of Blaine's ass, pushing gently until the head found the soft pucker that gave way just a little under him.
"Are you sure you're ready?" Dave asked. He cared more and more about taking care of Blaine – less and less about just getting off.
Blaine pushed roughly back in answer, like he was trying to force Dave inside, but Dave's cock popped up and just slid up along Blaine's crack, teasing them both wretchedly. Blaine groaned and then muttered, "just shut up and fuck me already."
Dave nodded – no need to hear it twice. He lined himself up again and then, with one guiding hand at the base, he pushed inside – slow, gauging how well stretched Blaine was. He felt strangely accomplished knowing that he was starting to recognize the way Blaine's body felt, starting to know when Blaine was tight and when he was lose. And, as it turned out, Blaine hadn't lied. He was ready. In fact, Dave slid in so easily he thought that – had there been anymore light – he would've gotten to see Blaine gape the way he usually did after they were done. The thought was fleeting though, because suddenly all he could think about was the tight heat of Blaine's body, so sharply contrasted with the cold wet, because, even loose, Blaine felt amazingly tight.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," Blaine moaned. "Yessss. I've been needing this all day."
Dave rocked forward and back again and again, going deeper each time, preparing himself mentally to hold back – to keep from coming immediately when they really started to fuck.
"I kept going to the bathroom during class," Blaine whispered, "and fingering myself, thinking about your cock."
Dave's eyes widened and his dick throbbed, balls deep in his own personal whore and savior. "Shit, Blaine."
"Come on, Baby," Blaine half-said, half-whined, "Fuck me."
Dave bit his lip and started to thrust forward, pulling out only a little, each time – needing to be close. Blaine moaned and slid a hand to his own cock, stroking it. Dave saw Blaine shiver and he bit his lips together, uncertain if the shiver meant he was cold or hot. He leaned forward, pressing his chest to Blaine's back, hoping to warm him with his body heat. He put his hands on the bench-back, supporting his weight and started to fuck him like a dog, rocking his hips forward again and again, and grunting. Blaine moaned and started to move in a counter rhythm to Dave's thrusts so each time Dave went deeper and their skin slapped together loud, though camouflaged by the sound of the rain.
Blaine slid one hand up Dave's arm caressing his bicep for a moment, then he let go and reached up further, sliding his hand around Dave's neck, cupping his nape tenderly. He hung from Dave's frame while their bodies rocked together – into each other, over and over again, like buildings shaking and colliding in a hurricane. He pushed Dave's head down toward his own, turned his face and pressed their mouths together in a sideways kiss, moaning and lapping at Dave's lips.
"Harder," Blaine muttered against Dave's mouth, but before Dave could even try to comply, Blaine started to rock faster, fucking himself on Dave's cock. He slid the flat of his hand to Dave's shoulder to better support himself and kissed again, forcing his tongue into Dave's mouth as he took Dave's cock deeper into his ass.
Finally, Blaine's head dropped like he couldn't support the weight of it anymore – dumb with pleasure. Animal groans escaped his throat and drove Dave further toward the edge.
As he rocked back and forth with wild abandon, body rubbing and sliding against Dave's bare chest, Blaine dug his fingernails into Dave's shoulder. Dave whined and slid an arm around Blaine's chest, hugging him tight, but Blaine kept clawing at him. Dave bit his lip and closed his eyes – pain and pleasure blending together as he got close. He kept the arm around Blaine's chest and dug his own fingernails in to one of Blaine's perfect pecks, listening, half-dazed, to the way Blaine wailed at that.
Dave fought, tooth and nail, with himself to not come first. He tried not to think about how perfect Blaine felt. He tried not to think about how perfect Blaine sounded and tasted and looked. He thought about something awful, the worst lows he'd ever lived – pushing Hummel, yelling at Hummel, getting rejected by Hummel – and tried, tried to hold back.
"Oh, fuck. I'm gonna come," Blaine muttered. "I'm gonna—" He cried out and Dave felt Blaine clench rhythmically around him. Dave's eyes crossed at the tightness and he released every horrible thought he'd been clinging to, feeling relief and euphoria rush in immediately in their absence. The release drove Dave over the edge. He came and those clenches kept rolling over his cock, milking every last drop.
"Blaine," Dave muttered, voice deep and rough. Blaine's body went limp and Dave squeezed him tighter to his chest supporting his slender body easily with one arm. Dave breathed slow, sneaking in those last few thrusts, listening to Blaine pant, feeling him shake. He couldn't see anything straight – eyes out of focus, blinded. "Shit, Blaine."
He only pulled out when his vision started to return – when his sex-stupid haze started wearing off. Through the whole thing he'd kept Blaine tight against his chest – loved, cherished, precious. He didn't even have to be fully conscious to know he wanted Blaine close. Dave kissed Blaine's neck, and breathed in his scent.
A quiet moment passed and then Blaine laughed. "I'm gonna have to start calling you snuggle bunny," he whispered.
Dave smiled a lopsided smile – still too happy to take real offence at anything. "Call me whatever you want as long as we get to keep doing this." He pressed kisses to Blaine's neck. Blaine turned his head and they kissed the rain from each other's lips. For what felt like forever and was probably only a few seconds, they hung over the bench, bodies glued together with sweat and rain and heat.
"Come on," Blaine whispered, pulling away. "We'll catch cold if we stay out here."
Dave straightened slowly, awkwardly and took a step back from the bench. He peeled off the condom, tossing it behind a bush before pulling his briefs and sweatpants back up. The sweatpants felt heavy with the rain. It was uncomfortable but not unbearable. He smirked as Blaine caught his eye. He was struggling to pull up his water-logged jeans, hopping a little like that might help and cursing when it didn't. Dave stepped forward to help, putting his hands on Blaine's hips from behind, rolling the fabric up until it fit over Blaine's ass – tight like a glove. It was so much easier now that his head wasn't clouded by sex.
Without thinking he slid his fingers around to Blaine's stomach and started buttoning his shirt up from the bottom. Blaine leaned back against Dave's chest, groaning sweetly.
"You're like my own personal momma bear," Blaine whispered.
Dave smirked but heat rushed to his cheeks. "Should I stop?"
"No."
Dave smiled wide and kept buttoning slowly up Blaine's chest. He nuzzled against Blaine's jaw and whispered, "You know you're completely crazy, bringing me out here, right?" Blaine didn't answer but made a noise that sounded a little like a purr. "We could get arrested for this."
Blaine turned to look at Dave and laughed. "That's what makes it fun."
Dave rolled his eyes.
"Do you disagree?" Blaine asked, catching Dave's gaze.
Staring at Blaine, wondering to himself, how do his eyes always sparkle like that? Dave said, "Not particularly."
Blaine smiled down at his shoes and adjusted his collar and then shivered as a breeze rolled by. "Hey, where's my coat?" He looked around, thinking. "Wait. Where did you put my coat?"
Dave bit his lip, remembering how he'd tossed it away in his earlier anger. "Shit. I don't know." Blaine gave Dave an irritated look, and Dave threw up his hands defensively. "You'd just hit me over the fucking head, Blaine. What? I was supposed to be concerned about the wellbeing of your coat?"
"My phone is in my inner coat pocket! And now it's missing." Blaine hissed. "I feel like that should matter to you. How the fuck am I gonna text you without a phone?"
"I didn't know that." Dave's pulse was picking up. They were fighting and it wasn't a sexy fight, or a panic-attack fight, it was a real couple fight, even if it was only over a phone. "Look. I'll call your phone. We'll hear it ring. It'll be fine." Dave zipped up his hoodie, covering his chest and pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing Blaine's number.
"It's gotta be back this way," Blaine mumbled, walking back toward the entrance to the dog park. Dave followed, staring at the screen of his phone as little drops hit it and distorted the image. He tried to shield it from the rain with one hand.
A ring tone started to echo through the trees, and Blaine jogged in its direction. Dave followed close behind, hanging up when the call went to voicemail and dialing the number again. Blaine disappeared into the trees and Dave listened to the wet crunch of branches. He stayed on the path, waiting quietly, and trying to calm his nerves.
"Found it," Blaine called out from behind a tree.
"Is it... is it okay? Running and everything?" Dave bit his lip.
"Yeah. It's fine. It's in a waterproof case. I mean... I knew what we were gonna be doing tonight. My umbrella's kind of messed up though." Blaine emerged from behind the trees, slipping into his raincoat. "Luckily you tossed the coat on a bush folded lengthwise so the inside's not too wet... although it will be now that I'm in it." Blaine smiled.
Dave smiled back, feeling a rush of comfort at the knowledge that Blaine wasn't upset. He felt stupid for caring about Blaine's feelings, especially when it would've been Blaine's own fault had the phone been ruined, but he couldn't help it.
"Come on," Blaine said, reaching out for Dave's hand. "I'll walk you home."
Dave stared at Blaine's outstretched hand, like it was going to turn into a snake and bite at any moment. Blaine stepped closer and grabbed Dave's hand, squeezing it. The touch – but more than that, the squeeze – made Dave's heart thump, made his chest tighten, made it hard to breathe.
"It's ten o'clock at night. No one's gonna see." Blaine gave him an encouraging smile that stuck up higher on one side than the other.
Nervous thoughts fired through Dave's head but he nodded and squeezed Blaine's hand back. That wasn't what Dave was afraid of. That was scary, but that wasn't the scariest possibility. Holding hands meant something, and Dave wasn't really sure what, and having something meant welcoming the possibility of losing something. But it was nice – it felt nice – and Blaine was smiling, and Dave felt like he might do anything for that smile.
They left the grove hand in hand, and Blaine struggled to open his umbrella. The spokes were bent here and there and it was one of those automatic button-released umbrellas, but the release wasn't working. Dave dropped Blaine's hand reaching over to take the umbrella, smirking and mumbling, "guess that's what you get for bashing it against my hard head."
Blaine bumped their shoulders together while they walked along side by side, and Dave forced the umbrella open. He handed it back to Blaine, and Blaine pulled Dave closer so they were both under the umbrella. He linked his arm around Dave's at the elbow – another weirdly intimate touch.
Dave smiled and thought quietly as they walked along through little puddles. "You do realize that there's no point in using this," Dave murmured. "We're both already soaked."
Blaine shrugged. "It's a good excuse to stand close to you in public."
Dave smirked, and swelled fit to burst. Blaine could mock him all he wanted for being a 'snuggle bunny,' because any unnecessary tenderness on Dave's side was mirrored beautifully on Blaine's.
They walked quietly back to Dave's house, while Dave mused about what might happen once they got inside. Blaine thinks he's seen snuggling? As the house came into view, the lights were all out. His parents probably thought he was asleep. He wondered to himself if the sound of the shower would wake them up. When they got to Dave's driveway, Blaine pulled away, arm slipping from Dave's, and smiled, but didn't move in for a kiss. Dave frowned, spirits drooping at the distance.
"Where are you going?" Dave asked.
"Home," Blaine said with a shrug.
All of Dave's blossoming plans crushed suddenly beneath Blaine's foot. If he hadn't already said something – hadn't already asked – he would've just let it drop and been depressed the rest of the night. But he had said something, and he didn't want to be depressed anymore. Not if there was a chance to be happy. "You're... you're not gonna stay?"
Blaine's brows knit together. "You... want me to stay?"
"Well, I just thought..." Dave looked off to the side, fighting the urge to just shut up and walk away. Fighting his old instincts. Fighting for the new version of himself that wasn't strong enough to fight for itself. "You're all wet and probably freezing and of course you're welcome to borrow some PJs and stay over."
Dave let himself look Blaine in the face, wanting to see his expression more than he wanted to hide his own. Blaine bit his lip. Beautiful and reserved. Disinterested? Nervous? Uncomfortable? Dave felt his cheeks run hot, and he looked down at his wet shoes on the wet sidewalk. He wanted to take back the offer, afraid that Blaine was about to reject it, but he waited. Being happy is better. If there's a chance...
"What about school in the morning?" Blaine asked.
Dave laughed, but it sounded as nervous as he felt. "You wake up freaky early in the morning anyway. I'm sure you could get there on time." Blaine didn't look convinced. Dave looked around thoughtfully – trying to convince himself so he'd have a better shot at convincing someone else. He forced his earlier excitement back to the forefront of his brain and pushed his doubt away – confidence can win the game all on it's own. He looked back at Blaine, smiling a real smile, and stepped forward, closer to Blaine and whispered, "and if you stay, you'll get to keep making fun of me for being touchy-feely, and, of course, I'll have to insist that you shower. With me."
Blaine smirked and rolled his eyes. "Well, in that case..."
Dave smiled hopefully and chewed his lip and looked down at Blaine's golashes next to his own soggy sneakers. "Is that a yes?" He looked up at Blaine, through his lashes.
"Yes," Blaine said, eyes twinkling.
