Flint went down to breakfast early, reminding Kurt that if he ever wanted to talk—thanks, Flint, I get it, just go to breakfast—he was there. Kurt dressed lazily in his uniform, staring in the mirror. It wasn't like it mattered. He hadn't moisturized last night, he'd barely showered this morning—everything was just taken out of him.
Rationally he knew this shouldn't be possible. He'd faced things that had emotionally hurt him before. He should be able to put on his armor and get over it—put on his bitch face and flip off the world—but something was just…taking too long to heal.
He'd dealt with people who didn't know him before. He'd handled people who were ignorant and didn't understand. But it was the fact that this woman was supposed to understand. And she just threw his mother's death in his face, blamed his mom for a mistake he made. Nobody was allowed to do that.
There was a knock at the door. Sighing, he dragged himself over, opening it. "Oh." He straightened. "Hi."
Blaine pushed past him into the room. His tie was undone and the top two buttons of his shirt were open. His hair was a mess and his eyes were dark.
"What do you want?"
Blaine sat on the Kurt's bed, kicking off his shoes without meeting Kurt's eyes.
"I suppose you want to talk about what happened yesterday—"
"No." Blaine looked up. "No, I really don't. We have exactly 55 minutes before class starts. Get undressed."
Kurt arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Get. Un. Dressed." Blaine yanked off his own blazer, tossing it on top of Flint's bed. "54 minutes." His tie followed and he began unbuttoning his shirt. "Kurt, if you don't—"
Kurt rushed towards him, kissing him solidly on the mouth. When he pulled back, he yanked off his blazer, followed shortly by the tie and the shoes being kicked off and then under his bed.
Blaine's got his own shirt off and started on his belt when Kurt dropped to his knees in front of him. Blaine smirked. "Hello, gorgeous."
Kurt didn't speak as he unbuckled Blaine's belt and got his zipper down. When Blaine's hand got to his hair however, he slapped it away. "Don't touch the hair." Kurt took a deep, cleansing breath before bravely grabbing the flesh bobbing against Blaine's stomach around the base.
Blaine growled low in his throat.
"I-I don't know what I'm doing."
"You'll get the hang of it."
Kurt closed his eyes for a moment, still idly stroking the slightly menacing-looking flesh in his hand. "I can do this; I can do this," he whispered before licking tentatively at the head. He ducked farther down, licking up the underside and then taking the tip in his mouth.
Blaine's hands curled subtly in the sheets.
Kurt made a surprised noise and lowered his mouth slightly farther, swirling his tongue. Blaine must've liked it because he held onto Kurt's shoulder, his fingers digging into the shirt, muscle, and bone. The brunette pulled off, licking a stripe up the side as he did. "Why are you being so gentle?" he whispered, his voice low.
"Shut up."
"There it is."
Their eyes locked for a moment before Blaine's hands moved to Kurt's head. He glared at the boy on his knees, challenging him with his eyes, challenging him to stop him. Blaine's fingers twisted around Kurt's hair as their eyes battled it out.
Kurt didn't smile, didn't speak, didn't do anything except place his mouth over Blaine again.
He would not allow himself to think about anything but this because he had this. He had Blaine. Not officially, of course, but this—whatever it was—was more than just sex. Kurt could feel it. Blaine wouldn't be here right now if he didn't feel it too. He'd be at breakfast with the rest of the guys. Somehow, this only made Kurt more eager. Blaine had been devastatingly good to him a few days ago and now this was his payment. It certainly helped that Kurt was eager to learn as well. He wanted to make Blaine feel the way he had, to make Blaine come apart, hardly able to control himself—
Later he realized that he should have known that Blaine never showed weakness.
As Kurt moved his tongue and lips and hand together, pulling his lips over his teeth and taking him as deep as he could, he hummed slightly. Blaine sucked in a breath and Kurt lifted his eyes.
What he saw made him groan and reach down to palm himself through his pants. The curly-haired boy was staring at him, his hands tightening in Kurt's hair. Oh. That felt kind of nice. Weird. He moaned around Blaine, working twice as hard now.
Anything to make him come. Anything to make him feel good. Anything to get him to thrash and cry out and barely able to control himself—
"Kurt," he growled.
Kurt almost tried to speak but ended up choking a bit so he simply attempted to mimic the motion of his wrist that Blaine had done to him earlier.
Kurt could feel Blaine tremble. Blaine's grip got so tight that his scalp hurt and he was more desperate than ever, his own arousal making him desperate to get this over with so that Blaine could help him along as well. As if hearing Kurt's thoughts, Blaine's hips jerked as if he couldn't help himself. He made astoundingly gruff noises in the back of his throat and tugged on Kurt's hair.
Blaine was going to come. Soon. Kurt could practically feel it, hear it, touch it. For a moment, Kurt considered pulling off, but then he felt like he had something to prove. Because he wasn't fragile and he wanted this. He wanted to prove that he wasn't porcelain. He wasn't going to break.
"Kurt," Blaine said lowly. "Don't."
He wasn't sure what Blaine was talking about, but he didn't care. He wasn't going to move until—
Okay, so admittedly, swallowing wasn't as easy as he thought. A bit ended up on his lips and chin but he took what he could before letting go and peaking up at Blaine.
Blaine stared back, his gaze less intense but still just as lustful.
There should have been tension in the air. It should have been thick and awkward, but Kurt felt no shame in what had just happened. He stood and grabbed his still slightly shower-damp towel from his bed, wiping his mouth.
"You didn't have to do that," Blaine said.
Kurt arched an eyebrow at him. "What's wrong with you?"
"What?"
"Why are you being…nice…ish?"
Blaine scowled, his disguise slipping into place easily. "I'm not being nice."
"I know what's wrong. I think you like me."
"You're right, babe. I do like you. Why don't you take off your pants and I'll show you how much I like you?"
"No—I mean, I think you like me."
Blaine smirked, getting Kurt's belt undone. "Yeah, sure."
"Why else would you be here right now?"
"Believe it or not, Kurt, I have needs and you are very, very capable of fulfilling them. Plus, I don't like leaving my conquests without a little bit of reward."
Kurt grabbed his wrist just as he was about to delve into his briefs. "Conquests?"
"Surely you didn't think I was a virgin."
"Well no, but… Conquests?"
Blaine pulled his hand away from Kurt's grasp, grabbing his hips. "You didn't think we were dating, did you? We're not in a relationship."
Kurt's last traces of arousal faded and his heart stuttered. "But…"
"I can't have a boyfriend. More importantly, I don't want a boyfriend."
"So you were using me for sex."
"Don't pretend like you weren't enjoying it."
Kurt stepped backwards out of Blaine's grasp, trying to sort out every thought running through his head. "So we were just fooling around because it was convenient for you. You don't actually like me."
"Sweetheart—"
"Don't call me that." Kurt suddenly felt so angry that he was shaking. He looked down at the ground. "Just leave. Now."
"I was making you feel good."
"Sex isn't what makes me feel good, Blaine," Kurt spat. "Knowing that someone cares about me does. And apparently you don't. So please just leave."
Blaine sat there for a moment more, trying to find words. But there weren't any. He had utterly screwed up. He'd been trying to make Kurt forget about what had hurt him so badly yesterday and had, accidentally, hurt him even more.
He wanted to tell him that he would listen, that Kurt could trust him… But he really couldn't listen. Kurt couldn't trust him. And he had just made a complete ass out of himself.
The door slammed closed behind him.