One of the long-ago promised one-shots to accompany the original story. This is an expanded version of the fight scene. Angry sex! With a bit of fluff at the end, naturally.
The Eighteenth Time
The eighteenth time, they're arguing abouth something.
Honestly, neither of them can even remember what. A long day (long week, long month) and short tempers and somehow it just explodes. Yelling and accusations even though deep down they both know they're overreacting and this is pointless.
Kurt's seething - sarcastic and stubborn, just like he always gets when he's angry, and his hair is a mess from how many times he's run his hands through it. He argues with the passion he brings to everything else in his life, and sometimes Blaine really wishes he didn't look so goddamn sexy doing it.
Blaine's at a loss for words - Kurt's far more articulate than he when emotions run this high and as usual he's run out of anything useful or productive to say. He doesn't really feel like listening to Kurt pick apart his argument piece by piece so he does the only he can think of - grabs Kurt by the front of his shirt, drags him under the mistletoe hanging in their bedroom doorway, and kisses him for all he's worth.
It's more of a claim than a kiss - aggressive and persistent and asserting his right to be there. His tongue intrudes on Kurt's mouth, licking at the back of his teeth and tangling with his own. The whole time he's anticipating the sting of Kurt's hand against his cheek, the furious shove at his shoulders and the indignant tirade that will follow. Instead, he feels Kurt's groan vibrate through his mouth and the pressure of Kurt's palm on his crotch. He's come to claim as well.
Seconds later Blaine's being forced backward into their bedroom, tripping over his own feet as Kurt spins him and bends him facedown into the bed. By the time he realizes his pants are around his ankles, he hears the thud of Kurt's knees to the ground behind him and feels the whisper of hot breath against his ass.
A bite to his bare ass cheek, teeth scraping, and Blaine's already squirming and curling his fingers into their comforter. Kurt's right arm settles across his lower back, holding him down as he licks a path over Blaine's entrance.
"Fuck," Blaine shouts, shocked by how much he needs this already. His cock is hard and heavy, pressing against the bed and with every movement the friction makes his whole body quiver.
Kurt's hands are rough against his ass, holding him spread as he licks again. There's the slam of the drawer to the bedside table and then Kurt's fingers are drifting, teasing at his entrance and grazing ever-so-lightly over his balls. He's doing it intentionally, wants to watch Blaine writhe and beg because he's still simmering with aggression from their argument.
And also because he gets off on it.
"Need it yet, Blaine?" he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the base of Blaine's spine as he strokes Blaine's cock lazily and deliberately not-enough.
"Fuck you," Blaine growls, thrusting unevenly into Kurt's fist.
"Seems like you want it the other way around," Kurt counters, easing the lubed index finger of his free hand past the resistance at Blaine's entrance. He's tight and hot as always and Kurt takes the briefest of moments to suppress a whine.
If he gives in too early it will ruin it for both of them.
"Get on with it, then," Blaine urges, gasping raggedly as Kurt's finger presses persistently against his prostate.
"So rude," Kurt admonishes. He drops the hand from Blaine's cock to massage his own, relishing the relief and this time making no effort to hide the noises bubbling up from this throat.
Blaine hears and realizes what he's doing and groans even louder.
"Kurt," he begs, voice raw and broken and desperate.
"I'm gonna fuck you so hard," Kurt hisses, trailing his knuckles up the crevice in Blaine's ass. Neither of them have quite figured out when or how he became a person who says things like that.
"Yes," Blaine breathes, sweaty palms clutching at the mattress.
"Now?"
A whine that slips to something like a sob when Kurt's tongue slides over his hole again.
"Tell me."
"Kurt, please." His hips buck into the bed as Kurt stands and presses the tip of his cock against Blaine's ass.
He slides in and they both moan, the sounds twisting together in the air and reverberating around the room. Kurt holds there for a moment, balls deep and Blaine full and dizzy and pushing back against him. Then he pulls back and slams forward and his toes are curling at the obscene ecstasy of it all.
Blaine's grunting and breathing harshly and trying to navigate the logistics of getting a hand around his own cock. He fails and instead settles for savoring the perfect drag in and out and wondering why he gets off so hard when they fuck like this.
Kurt's breath is coming in short puffs now - Blaine can feel it against his back, just as uneven as Kurt's thrusts have become. He's close, and Blaine can imagine the expression on his face, the near delirious abandon he only ever glimpses when Kurt's teetering on the edge. Another snap forward, a low, throaty groan and Kurt comes so hard he sees stars.
Blaine feels Kurt's body still and whimpers, a wordless plea for assistance because he hasn't quite made it and he's aching. He wonders vaguely whether this was all part of a plan, whether Kurt's angry enough to get himself off and leave Blaine wrecked and painfully hard. He doubts Kurt is malicious enough to do it but then again they've never had sex quite like this before.
Then -
"I'm gonna make you come, Blaine," Kurt murmurs, lips against Blaine's shoulder blade. He rocks forward, hissing at the oversensitivity but pleased with the whine he draws from Blaine. His hand, gentler and more precise this time, closes around Blaine's cock, stroking with purpose.
"Kurt," Blaine pleads again.
"Shh," Kurt says, licking over the bumps in Blaine's spine as a knuckle presses into his perineum.
Something snaps and Blaine yelps into the comforter, arching as the orgasm rips through him. He makes a small noise of relief, to which Kurt responds with a laugh before slipping out of him and collapsing on to the bed. He lies on his side, facing Blaine, and Blaine blinks happily at him, still a bit too worn out to move.
"I'm sorry," Blaine says. "For anything I did. I'll never do anything to upset you ever again ever."
Kurt giggles. "Really? Because if the sex is gonna be like that..."
"You're right. We should fight more often," Blaine says cheekily, finally finding the strength to pull his entire body on to the bed.
Kurt smirks, snuggling closer and slipping a leg between Blaine's. "I'm sorry too," he says softly. "I don't like fighting with you."
"Me neither," Blaine replies, fingers tracing idly over Kurt's chest. "Let's just skip straight to the sex next time."
Kurt laughs and swats his arm.
"I thought you were going to slap me when I kissed you," Blaine remembers.
"Yeah, well." Kurt arches an eyebrow. "I guess I just found other ways of channeling my aggression."
...so, yeah. My imagination frightens me sometimes.