DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee, Fox does. And Ryan Murphy. Title is from the insert of Panic! At The Disco's A Fever You Can't Sweat Out.
Warnings are: minor breathplay, cross-dressing, swearing, public blowjobs.
TUMBLR IS THAT WAY
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xxxxXxxxx
"I think I want a corset."
Kurt looks up from the glossy pages of this month's Vogue he's currently perusing, his eyebrow raised in surprise. He sits up and tucks his legs under himself, pushing the pile of magazines off to the side of his bed. Blaine's at his desk, laptop open but forgotten as he turns in his chair. His eyes are slowly darkening from his usual honey-gold and he holds Kurt's gaze without wavering, without faltering, but Kurt can still see the usual insecurity, the thing about Blaine that he always tries to hide.
Kurt takes a deep breath, clears his throat and tries not to be too overwhelmed at the thought of a corset cinching that tiny waist to make it even tinier. "Are you sure?"
Blaine begins to blush but he keeps his composure, the only thing giving him away being the nervous sliding of his palms over his thighs. Kurt's seen him do that countless times, most of it having to do with his parents. "I'm completely sure," he says slowly, like he's still trying to think of the correct words, the correct way to say it. "After I had the chemise and you, uh, pulled on it, that kind of…opened my eyes, you could say."
It dawns on Kurt, then, and he feels his cheeks flush, the pleasant warmth traveling like lightning down to his groin and stirring his cock as he remembers Blaine gasping for a proper lungful, squirming on Kurt's cock before coming harder than Kurt's ever seen him.
"So. Breathplay," Kurt says softly. Blaine nods, drawing his lips into his mouth to wet them. "That was okay for you?" Kurt already knows the answer—of course because he was there—but he has to make sure. He can't overstep any boundaries, can't make Blaine constantly push himself harder, further, until he reaches a point that he's unable to cross, one that he'll shy away from and balk and that will loosen and break everything they've built up. That isn't the point of Kurt allowing Blaine to share this side of him: it's about confidence, about making Blaine feel good and helping him to forget the world that tells them no, that says it's wrong to like what they like and that does what it can to ensure that they'll never be happy no matter what happens.
"God, Kurt," Blaine breathes, his voice rough and a little harsh, his brow furrowed and his eyes intense, "I cried when I came. I didn't think that actually happened to people."
Kurt laughs, short and breathless, and nods, resisting the urge to blush and look away. "Okay, all right. So breathplay's good. Do you have any idea of what you want in a corset? I mean, I've only had one and it was more of a decorative corset than what I'm sure you're looking for but I know enough."
Blaine shakes his head and stands up to cross the room. He sits next to Kurt on the bed, pressing their bodies close. Immediately Kurt's wrapping an arm around Blaine's waist, resting his other hand on Blaine's knee. He feels safe like this, comforted by Blaine's presence, the rise and fall of his chest and the soft exhales as he breathes. "Something really sexy," Blaine says. "I want something that makes you go wow when you see it."
Kurt tsks and takes Blaine's face in his hands, shifting so that they're facing each other. "Honey," he says, raising his brows for emphasis, "you're sexy so matter what you wear. I've told you that before and I'll keep telling you until I draw my last breath. Every day that I see you I say wow. Okay? You're my gorgeous, sexy, sweet boyfriend Blaine, and I'm so in love with you that it hurts."
He presses their lips together before Blaine can open his mouth, letting his hands linger on the smooth skin of Blaine's cheeks, the tips of his fingers scratching through dark hair stiff with gel. He loses himself in the familiarity: Blaine's soft-yet-harsh breathing, the slick slide of his full lips, the way their noses brush together as they change angles and Kurt's tongue slides into Blaine's mouth.
They break away panting and even more flushed than before, Blaine's lips stretching into a wide smile as he leans forward, nuzzles their noses together. "You're perfect," he says.
"You are," Kurt replies, smiling, "and let's stop before we turn into one of those couples. I wouldn't be able to live with myself."
"Hmm." Blaine pretends to think, tapping his chin with his finger. "I can think of a number of things we can do to prevent us from talking in complete sentences, but I don't know if you—"
Blaine's on his back in a flash, Kurt's legs bracketing his hips as they giggle and kiss until the world falls away, leaving only them and Blaine's bed behind.
xxxxXxxxx
"Is this…," Blaine begins, shifting nervously where he stands. They're two hours away from where anyone could possibly know them, standing in front of what looks to be a rather sketchy lingerie shop. No one is giving them a passing glance as they stand just outside the store, looking into the cleaner-streaked window at the impossibly-figured mannequins wearing various styles of lingerie.
"It's the right place," Kurt clarifies, checking his phone just to make sure. "It's the only shop I could find within a reasonable distance that caters to both men and women because the last thing you need is a sweetheart neckline corset to enhance the bust you don't have." He critically eyes Blaine's v-necked sweater and lavender lion-print bowtie.
Blaine pretends to swoon, swaying on the spot and dramatically bringing his hand up to his forehead. "You know how my knees buckle when you get all fashion industry on me."
Kurt rolls his eyes at Blaine's fluttering eyelashes and lightly shoves his shoulder, pushing him toward the door. "Just wait until we're trying on corsets," he says, grabbing the handle and pulling, the little bell above the door tinkling as they step inside. A rush of cool air tainted with the scent of too-fruity air freshener greets them, along with an overly-peppy salesgirl whose tag reads "Marin."
"Good afternoon, gentlemen!" she chirps, flouncing up to them. "How may I help you?"
Blaine hangs back slightly, eyes wide and unsure, but Kurt's all business, squaring his shoulders and smiling as politely as he can. This may seem like the best place to go for their needs, but it's still Ohio, after all, and they can never be too careful. "My friend wants a corset, but he's not sure if he wants broche or brocade or ruffles and he'd like to try some on." He leaves no room for questioning in his voice despite the slight waver he can feel as he finishes his sentence. This is the moment of truth, of possible judgment.
The girl looks from him to Blaine, Blaine to him, repeats once more and finally smiles brightly, bobbing her head in affirmation as she sweepingly gestures with her hand. "Right this way, boys. I think we might have the perfect selection for you."
She leads them towards the back of the store, past the racks and displays of skimpy chemises and camisoles, brightly-colored barely-there thongs and beautifully-cut lace-trim panties and boy shorts. Kurt's eyes linger on a mannequin's thin, white legs wrapped in an intricate pair of lace stockings attached to a simple black garter belt and remembers back to Blaine's trim waist wrapped in a garter belt, his legs swathed in tempting black fishnets.
He looks over and finds Blaine looking around the store in awe, his mouth slightly parted as he takes everything in. Kurt wants to talk, to ask Blaine what he's thinking, if he's getting ideas, too, but he stays silent for now, brushing his hand down Blaine's arm instead. When Marin isn't bouncing ahead of him they'll talk, they'll look at the other selections and discuss the merits of see-through mesh versus another thong, maybe in a different style this time.
Marin stops at a back wall, her grin still wide and unfaltering as her long brown hair bounces around her shoulders. If Kurt wasn't so inwardly nervous he'd actually think about her lack of outward—and hopefully inward—judgment and her readiness to help them, though Kurt's almost positive it's just because of the commission she'll get for them possibly purchasing one of the store's expensive corsets. "Here we are, gentlemen. All the styles the boutique offers are here on the wall, and you're welcome to try any of them on." She clasps her hands together and looks at them both in turn again. "I'll just leave you two be and if you have any problems you know where to find me."
"Thank you," Kurt replies immediately, tugging on Blaine's arm as he steps closer to the wall. Before them is a selection of corsets, all ranging in style from simple to ornate and fringed with multicolored ruffles and bows. Nearly all come with detachable garters.
"See anything you like?" The question is irrelevant—Kurt knows Blaine sees a whole lot of things that he likes. They both do, and that's why Kurt loves it so much.
"Um. Yeah." Blaine's voice is a huff of shaking laughter, his words holding a breathless, awed quality to them that Kurt doesn't hear very often but loves all the same. "But I don't—how do I pick just one? They're all so gorgeous."
Kurt steps forward, runs his fingers along a simple black corset with ruffled detailing along the edges. It has no pizzazz, no eye-catching cut or detail, but it's still pretty, still becoming, in its own way. But not for Blaine—no, Blaine's needs the best, the one that will make both of them go "wow."
Right on cue Blaine shakes his head, stepping up beside Kurt to gaze at the wall. "Too plain," he says, looking at the corset to his left. It's red and black, with a lace bodice and a deeper sweetheart neckline than the one Kurt's still touching. "This one is nice."
Kurt reaches up, snagging it off the wall, then goes for the black and a purple and black one next to it. "Dressing room," he says, thrusting the items into Blaine's arms and steering them towards the sectioned-off back room where a few slightly-dingy rooms sit empty. The lighting is horrendous and the smell is stronger back here, but beggars can't be choosers, Kurt supposes as he looks around with a critical eye.
While Blaine ducks into one of the stalls Kurt sinks into a worn red-upholstered armchair, tipping his head back and staring at the ceiling. His stomach flips, knots tying and untying themselves periodically. He can hear the slight whisper of clothing through the door and wonders what Blaine's doing, how he's looking at the corsets and wondering which one of them is going to be the one.
He plays with a loose thread with on his jeans as he waits, exhaling through his nose. He's aware of how big a step they're taking with this, both with going out in public to buy a corset and actually using one. Blaine's comfortable with stockings and panties and garters and Kurt's comfortable with corsets even if his had been more of a decorative fashion statement than an actual bit of sexy lingerie. It's new for Blaine, though, and Kurt is maybe being a little selfish when he hopes that it wll work out for Blaine as well.
Blaine's voice breaks Kurt with a jolt out of his thoughts. "What about…this one?" It's muffled by the changing room door; Kurt waits with bated breath until he hears the lock click and the knob begin to turn. Kurt sits up a little straighter in the chair, heart pounding wildly as the door swings open and Blaine steps out, a hand behind his back to hold the loose corset against his frame. He's still in jeans, which Kurt had expected, but seeing Blaine like this, looking somehow so casual, is a surprise.
Blaine's standing just outside the changing room door, shifting on his feet. His eyes dart around the small room nervously, giving him the scared-animal look Kurt hasn't seen since that early-spring day. Wrapped around his torso is a black-and-purple corset, the one that had been next to the other corset that Blaine had commented on. The bodice is a simple deep purple and the top has two rows of black ruffles with a small bow in the center. The bottom follows the same pattern, this time with a bow on either side of his waist. It's…it's perfect.
"Fuck." Kurt's eyes widen and he's up in a flash, directing Blaine to the doorframe and instructing him to hold as Kurt goes to stand behind him and grab the ribbons in the back, pulling them tight enough to allow the corset to stay on, but not tight enough to completely hinder Blaine's breathing. With each strong pull Blaine gasps, his voice pitching slightly higher each time, and soon Kurt's uncomfortably hard in his jeans, cock pushing painfully against his zipper as he continues to lace Blaine up. Once the knot is tied with a flourish Kurt backs them into the cubicle Blaine was just in, throwing a furtive glance over his shoulder before kicking the door shut.
The lone mirror against the back wall reflects the scene back to them: Kurt's hand on Blaine's bare shoulders, Blaine's already-tiny waist cinched in a corset that will only look better once it's tied tightly enough and it's the only thing Blaine's wearing. Kurt lets his right hand trailer lower, stopping to play with the bow in the middle of Blaine's chest and brushing his fingers across the satin polyester/cotton blend of the bodice. "God, you look so hot, baby," Kurt whispers into Blaine's ear. He can't help but press his hips forward, rubbing his already-leaking cock against the curve of Blaine's ass with a small, breathed-out groan.
Kurt watches Blaine swallows hard, watches his cheeks slowly turn redder and redder. He's already tenting the front of his jeans and he moans as Kurt ruts against him. His head falls back slightly, eyes sliding closed, and Kurt trails his hand lower, lower until he reaches the hot, heavy bulge of Blaine's cock through his jeans. Pleasure sparks like fire low in his stomach as he presses his lips to the shell of Blaine's ear and murmurs, "You're so hot just from trying these on. Christ, look at you."
"Ah!" Blaine can't hold back his exclamation or his whimper as he thrusts up into Kurt's touch, but Kurt's quick to pull away, shaking his head even though he itches and yearns to take Blaine apart right now, use all the tricks and knowledge he's gained to make Blaine fray at the seams, to make him writhe and moan and come quicker than he has in months. He wants to make Blaine beg for everything.
"Gotta be quiet," he murmurs instead, spinning Blaine around and crushing their mouths together before he places his hands on Blaine's shoulders once more, pushing lightly but insistently. Without hesitating Blaine sinks to his knees, landing with twin thunks on the hardwood floor, and god, just seeing Blaine eager, seeing him obey without hesitating, makes Kurt so hard he can't breathe, can't focus on anything but the hazy, overwhelming pleasure sucking him in.
It feels filthy, doing this here, but Kurt's so far gone that he doesn't even care. His vision narrows down, focuses solely on the sight on Blaine on his knees in nothing but a pair of jeans and a (gorgeous, so gorgeous) corset. Every other inhibition flies away as Blaine leans forward, gripping onto Kurt's thighs as he mouths against the denim stretched tight across the hard, hot bulge of Kurt's cock. Kurt bites on the side of his hand to stifle his moan and leans back against the door as Blaine lets his jaw fall slack, mouth plush and open as he slides back-forth over the line of Kurt's cock, tongue occasionally flicking out to press against the dampening denim. His breathing is gradually growing from carefully measured to harsh and fast; through slitted eyes Kurt watches Blaine move a hand from his thigh down to his own lap, squeezing his own cock with a muffled, breathy groan.
When Blaine finally gets Kurt's jeans and boxer-briefs down Kurt feels like he's going to come any second. He itches to tangle his hand in Blaine's hair but knows that that will only make it more obvious when they actually do buy the corset and leave; he settles for gripping onto Blaine's shoulder instead, digging in as Blaine takes his cock in hand, breathing harshly as he looks from the swollen tip to Kurt's unfocused eyes, and steadies it before sinking down.
"Oh god, oh god," Kurt chants on a stage whisper, his free hand clenching into a fist at his side. He immediately wants to snap his hips forward, bury his cock deep into Blaine's throat to hear him gag slightly before regaining his composure, but he holds back with a whimper, tilting his head back and exhaling harshly through his nose. Blaine bobs his head, sliding until he meets the circle of his fingers before pulling back up with a suction that makes Kurt's toes curl, his breath catching somewhere deep in his throat as he feels the velvet-smooth press of Blaine's tongue along the underside and the veins snaking around his cock. Blaine pulls off with a slick sound to flick the tip of his tongue across the slit, swirling around the smooth head as he looks up, holds Kurt's gaze and flattens his tongue to lave across the head. He closes his mouth around just the tip, flicking his tongue out again to press against the bundle of nerves under the ridge.
Kurt's hips jolt as his voice goes high on a whine and a groaned "fuck," pushing his cock back into Blaine's mouth, and Blaine takes it eagerly, trapping it between his cheek and his tongue as he lets go of the base, cupping Kurt's balls gently instead, his fingers inching back to rub along Kurt's perineum. Kurt's almost too fixated on the outline of the shape of his cock against Blaine's cheek to realize what Blaine's doing, but he does have the presence of mine to choke out a warning before he's closing his eyes and coming in pulses into Blaine's mouth and Blaine's swallowing thickly, the sound echoing in the enclosed space as his eyes flutter shut and he continues to rub himself through his jeans.
Blaine stands up, swaying a little on his feet, and Kurt hurriedly unbuckles Blaine's belt, making quick work of the button and zipper of his jeans as well before pushing Blaine up against the wall. He slides immediately to his knees, pushing jeans and boxer-briefs down to wrap his lips around Blaine's hot, slick cock. Blaine cries out above him, sharp and cut-off, and his hand clenches hard in Kurt's hair for a moment before he's coming, his thighs and hips quaking under Kurt's careful touch. Kurt does his best to swallow, training his eyes up on Blaine's slack face to see mouth fallen open as his hips twitch and his cock pulses.
When Kurt straightens up Blaine's pulling him close with a desperately furrowed brow, hand insistent on the back of Kurt's head as he presses their lips together and licks into Kurt's mouth with a little whine. Kurt brushes his tongue along Blaine's, runs it along teeth and gums and tastes his own come as he presses tight to Blaine, crowding and doing his best to soak up everything.
"God," Blaine gasps when they part, his lips swollen and red, and he looks sinful, fucked without having been fucked, and Kurt absolutely can't wait until they can do this properly, draw it out and make it phenomenal. "Kurt, oh my god." Kurt tries to focus on Blaine's eyes, the retracting pupils in darkened honey-gold, his fluttering eyelashes, but ends up failing as his own eyes continuously dart down the line of Blaine's neck, the dark shadow of his bare collarbone and the dip of the corset.
Kurt can see Blaine's small smile out of the corner of his eye. "Well, now I can cross 'get a blowjob in a public place' off my bucket list," Kurt replies with a shaky laugh, finally snapping his gaze back up. He places his hands on Blaine's shoulders, guiding until Blaine turns around and he can loosen the ribbon on the corset enough for Blaine to be able to slide it off.
He holds it in his hands, tries not to shiver at the warmth it still holds from Blaine's body. Blaine turns and stoops to pick up his discarded shirt from the bench in the corner. "So we're getting this, right?"
Blaine laughs and nods, ducking his head shyly and Kurt still reels at the juxtaposition of Blaine's behavior. He takes the corset from Kurt and turns the handle of the door, peeking out enough to see if anyone's lingering outside their stall. No one is, so he opens the door wider and they step out. Kurt can't resist taking Blaine's hand in his, relishing in the warmth and firm familiar pressure, and when Blaine turns and smiles at him, eyes crinkling at the corners, Kurt suddenly doesn't care what anyone else will think when they see them.
xxxxXxxxx
Opening a door, Kurt has come to realize, is becoming synonymous with manic desperation.
The second Blaine's door is opened Kurt's hands are sliding over the firm swell of Blaine's ass, pulling him close and squeezing as he presses a kiss to the underside of Blaine's jaw. It's Blaine's house this time because his parents have a family function that Blaine's been excused from (it's the side of the family that detests the idea of him being gay, Blaine had said, and his parents, sympathetic for once, had excused him from any avoidable interaction) and he'll have the house all to himself until the evening.
At one in the afternoon the light streams through the window in Blaine's room, highlighting the gold and green in Blaine's darkening eyes and making his reddening, saliva-slick lips that much more sinful which in turn makes Kurt that much harder in record time.
"Gorgeous," Kurt can't help but breathe, framing Blaine's face in his hands. Blaine blinks, those long, dark lashes sweeping and fanning, and Kurt lets out a groan before surging forward again, sealing their lips together with a hungry sound. He licks along Blaine's lower lip, sucks it into his mouth and bites down gently to feel Blaine shudder, to hear and swallow his wanton moan.
Kurt tangles his fingers in Blaine's hair as Blaine backs them against the wall, pressing tightly to Kurt as he tilts his head, changes the angle and slides his hand between them. The broad, warm weight of his palm presses against Kurt through his jeans and he keens, breaking their kiss wetly as he lets his head thunk hard against the wall, hips stuttering up into Blaine's slow, rough movements.
"If you want to—oh god—wear your corset, we should probably stop." Kurt has to bite each word out as Blaine continues to rub, his mouth now relocated to Kurt's neck. Kurt should be worried about marks as he feels the dull pressure of Blaine's teeth since Blaine likes to do it even when Kurt says no, but he can't bring himself to stop him.
"Mm, but you taste so good," Blaine murmurs, his tongue flicking across the sensitive patch of skin he's been marking; Kurt shudders and grinds against Blaine's hand with a whine. "Wanna make you come."
The words make Kurt squeeze his eyes shut with a loud moan, already feeling the hot-tight pressure around his cock as he sinks deep into Blaine's ass. "You will. I promise," Kurt groans, imagining Blaine on his hands and knees, cinched in purple and black, as he pushes weakly at Blaine's shoulders. "C'mon. Take your shirt off so I can lace you up."
xxxxXxxxx
Blaine is laced up completely this time, his back straight and shoulders pushed forward as he breathes unevenly, his eyes so impossibly wide as he looks from his reflection to Kurt's in his vanity mirror like he's waiting for a reaction, approval, anything. Kurt's already throbbing in his jeans from their frantic session just minutes ago and from the memory of Blaine gripping tight to the doorframe, bracing himself as Kurt had gripped the black laces in his hands and tugged hard, making sure each line of ribbon was perfectly tight. Each sharp inhale plays on loop in Kurt's ears.
"It's perfect," Blaine finally murmurs, transfixed on his own reflection. He touches the bow in the middle of his chest and traces his fingers along the ruffles.
"What kind of panties are you wearing for me today, honey?" Kurt whispers in Blaine's ear, rubbing his hands slowly up and down Blaine's bare arms and feeling him shiver as gooseflesh arises, muscles flexing under his touch as Blaine clenches his fists. "Something to highlight that gorgeous ass of yours, I'd hope."
Blaine swallows hard, nodding mutely, and his hands are immediately on his button and zipper, clumsily undoing them and shoving them down. Once they're pooled at his feet Kurt lets himself look, forcing his gaze away from the corset.
This time Blaine has on just a simple pair of black ruffled panties that stretch tight across jutting hipbones and curve perfectly around the shape of his ass. When Kurt cups Blaine through the fabric (with a gasp and a desperate whine as Blaine's eyes clench shut and he sags backwards against Kurt's chest) he finds out that they're thin cotton. Later he'll have to praise Blaine on finding a perfect complement to the corset.
"Good. Bed," Kurt whispers into Blaine's ear, trying not to shiver as he runs his hands along Blaine's sides, feels the lace ruffles and the boning of the corset. He does his best to keep his voice steady and slightly hard as he stares at the reflected image of Blaine flushed red, his mouth unconsciously parted slightly and the thin fabric of his panties doing nothing to minimize the obscene bulge of his cock. "Hands and knees, baby."
Blaine's quick to obey, kicking his jeans fully off before climbing up onto his bed and immediately falling into position, head hung low between his shoulders as he spaces his legs a little wider and tilts his ass up just a little further. Kurt wets his lips and squeezes his cock briefly, sighing. "Good boy, Blaine."
Blaine lets out another whine in response and a quick jolt of arousal shoots through Kurt at the lilting, needy noise as Blaine's shoulders quiver, his hips jerking downward. "God, you just love hearing that, don't you?" Kurt says as he tugs his shirt up and over his head, dropping it to the floor as he begins to work on his belt, letting it hang from the loops on his jeans before quickly undoing the button and zipper. "Knowing that you're my good, obedient boy." He wriggles out of his jeans and lets them fall to the floor with a thump.
"Yes," Blaine gasps, lifting his head up to stare at Kurt. He looks so wrecked already. "Oh, god, yes, Kurt."
Kurt thumbs the waistband of his underwear before deciding against it, keeping them on for now as he crawls onto the bed behind Blaine. When he touches his hands to Blaine's hips he can feel him trembling, the slight buzzing and vibrating one might associate with an idling car. "Such a sweet boy," Kurt murmurs, pulling the waistband of Blaine's panties down enough to expose the divide of his ass. He places a kiss to the strip of skin made visible between his corset and panties, darting his tongue out to wet the skin; Blaine pushes his ass back and groans lowly as Kurt dips slightly between his cheeks.
He runs his hands down Blaine's thighs as he continues to press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to his skin, scratching his nails lightly down the sensitive insides. He takes the waistband of the panties between his teeth and tugs, using his hand to help with the other side until they're stretched tight across Blaine's thighs—like the photo he'd sent, that beautiful photo of him covered in his own come—and he's rewarded with the sight of Blaine finally completely bare, the spread of his legs and ass coupled with the heavy hang of his cock and balls so, so tempting.
"Fuck, how are you so hot?" Kurt breathes, rubbing the pad of his thumb over Blaine's tight, dry hole, then trails it down to trace lightly over his balls. Blaine moans and Kurt can feel the comforter shift as Blaine bunches it up in his fingers.
"Kurt." His voice catches, squeaking slightly higher. "Kurt, please," Blaine groans, and this time it cracks. "Fuck me. Or—or touch me, at least."
"Desperate, are we?" Kurt asks with a smirk, squeezing Blaine's cheek. He straightens up and slides his own underwear down and off, tossing it to the floor as his cock finally bobs free. He won't let on, but he's just as desperate as Blaine, every inch of his skin itching and crawling already.
"You've been teasing me for too long," Blaine whines, looking over his shoulder. Kurt sees that some of his gel is just beginning to come loose. "I kind of just want you in me at this point."
"In time," Kurt replies, scooting closer and reaching under Blaine to wrap his hand around Blaine's cock. Blaine's back bows and he moans, the sound abrupt and loud, and his hips snap forward. Kurt pushes closer, his cock dragging along Blaine's thigh, and drapes himself over Blaine's back as he works his fist slowly up-down, smoothing his thumb over the swollen head. Blaine turns his head, closing his eyes as their lips meet and they kiss messily, uncoordinated and overwhelmed, tongues licking along lips and too much saliva being traded as Kurt works his fist over Blaine's cock, letting the pulse and throb guide him.
"I had all these—all these plans," Kurt gasps out when they part with the wet smacking of lips, pressing his forehead to Blaine's shoulders. Blaine draws in shaky half-breaths, the rise and fall of his chest labored as Kurt continues to jerk him at a steady pace. "I wanted to draw everything out, make you so hard you couldn't think straight and then fuck you until you couldn't walk. I wanted you to be sore for days. But seeing you like this is just—fuck, I'm going to make you so incoherent, baby."
"So most of that plan is still intact, then?" Blaine asks, dropping his head and thrusting into the circle of Kurt's fist.
Kurt lets out a breathless bark of a laugh, pressing kisses to Blaine's back, the tiny little birthmark high on his shoulder. As much as he'd wanted to suck Blaine off, that can wait. "It seems so. Hold on just a moment."
He reluctantly untangles himself, reaching over the side of the bed for the nightstand drawer, pulling it open and fishing the bottle of lube out. He pauses for a second, contemplating, and gets off the bed completely, standing on legs already shaky from arousal. Blaine looks quizzically over at him but Kurt says nothing, doesn't even acknowledge the glance.
Instead, he takes in the sight of Blaine on all fours, legs spread and arms slightly bent. He swallows thickly at the tight cinching of the corset, the way it makes Blaine thin and lithe, and at the stretch of his panties still tight across his thighs. Blaine's cock is hard and red, curving up slightly as it hangs heavy and full between his legs.
"Enjoying the view?" Blaine finally says drily, though his pupils are still blown wide and a bead of pre-come builds and drips from his cock. Kurt has to swallow quickly to keep the saliva from building up, a phantom ache twanging in his jaw as he imagines pushing Blaine onto his back and swallowing him down.
Instead, Kurt half-smiles at him, uncapping the lube and sauntering back over to the bed. Blaine's eyes are glued on him, mouth parted, until Kurt walks out of view and climbs back onto the bed behind him. At the gentle urging of his hands on the backs of his thighs Kurt gets Blaine's panties off and Blaine immediately spreads his legs as wide as he can in this position.
He coats his first two fingers, rubbing them along Blaine's perineum for a moment to circle his hole, feeling the slight twitching of muscle before he pushes in. Blaine gasps and draws up tight beneath him, clenching around Kurt's finger.
"Relax," Kurt murmurs, petting Blaine's hip with his free hand. He lets Blaine adjust for only a minute or two before adding his middle finger. He knows Blaine can take it, that it won't hurt him, and right on cue Blaine moans, pushing back onto Kurt's fingers as they slid in to the last knuckle. Kurt wishes he could see Blaine's face, see the scrunched brow and plush-parted lips.
"So good," Kurt whispers, watching his fingers disappear into Blaine's body as he spreads and crooks, hearing Blaine's hitching noises and cut-off moans as he begins to slowly loosen. "You're so good for me, Blaine." His wrist begins to burn, just a dull ache. "Can't wait until I'm fucking you. Can't wait until I feel this tight hole open around me. You're so desperate already, such a perfect little slut, baby, yes you are." He changes his tone from filthy and deep to sweet and cooing toward the end, the switch nearly unintentional, but it has its intended effect as Blaine lets out a moan that tapers off to a whine, breathing out yes, yes with every thrust of Kurt's fingers. Kurt knows without having to see that Blaine's face is bright red, the flush creeping down his neck to disappear into the neckline of the corset.
He increases the speed and intensity of his fingers, re-lubing and adding a third when Blaine's broken, breathy voice begs for more, his hips working in circles onto the two fingers Kurt has buried in him now. The bed creaks lightly as Kurt works in his third finger, crooking and searching until he finds Blaine's prostate and Blaine jolts with a yelp, pressing his face to the bed as he moans helplessly and fucks back onto Kurt's temporarily stilled hand, bringing one of his own hands back to his ass to spread himself wider. "God, fuck yes, Kurt." Blaine's voice is muffled, nearly inaudible, but Kurt knows. "I need your cock, please. Need you in me, need to feel you stretching me open."
Kurt swallows thickly and slides his fingers out, reaching for the lube and pouring some into his palm, slicking up his cock with tight strokes. He places his clean hand on Blaine's hip, squeezing lightly, and wipes the extra lube off on the comforter. He circles the head of his dick around Blaine's stretched hole, dipping in slightly before pulling back out, admiring the stark redness of his cock against the dark, glistening skin of Blaine's ass. When he slides it it's with a kiss pressed to the sweaty top of Blaine's shoulder, lips parting in a sucked-in gasp as his cock is enveloped in familiar tight heat.
"Oh god," Blaine moans, his shoulders tense-yet-relaxed as Kurt bottoms out. Though the feeling is far from new Kurt always can't help but be amazed, speechless, when he's flush to Blaine's ass. He gets to do this. He gets to be the one to make Blaine fall apart, gets to be the name on Blaine's lips as he comes. He gets all of this and he loves it.
Slowly Kurt moves, pulling out halfway and pushing back in. He feels Blaine draw a breath under him that never quite fully makes it, instead getting cut off with an audible gasp as the corset restricts Blaine's movements. Something surges inside Kurt at that, a spark of need and want at just the mere thought that the corset is doing its job.
He pulls out to the tip of his cock, holding for a second before slamming back in, wrapping the loops of the ribbon's bow around the fingers of both hands and tugging. Blaine's head snaps up, his back arching as a moan that would normally be low and rich turns out cut-off and breathy.
Blaine begins moving with him, keeping his breathing as staccato as possible as the slap of their skin together becomes slicker and slicker with sweat. "So hot," Kurt grunts, tightening his grip on the ribbon as he pulls a little harder. "So perfect for me, baby. Touch yourself, c'mon." He'll never get tired of seeing Blaine like this, so vulnerable and open and pliant, his ass pushed up and cheeks spread wide to allow nothing to hinder the sight of Kurt's cock sliding in and out of his reddened asshole.
"Gonna come," Blaine gasps, his voice strained and fading. Kurt watches his shoulder move and flex as he reaches down to fist himself, working over his cock in hard, tight strokes that shake his body. "So close, baby, right there, yes. You feel so good, I—ah!"
Kurt wants it to last longer, wants to see how long he can drag this out and how strung-out he can make Blaine, but with each slap of his balls to Blaine's ass he feels himself shoved closer, his own desperation edging into his mind, and he changes angles, letting go of the ribbon to grip Blaine's hips, hoisting him up and backward and still.
"Fuck." Blaine squirms, undulating in Kurt's grasp. He can feel every muscle flex and jump as Blaine moves, and oh, that's a lot hotter than Kurt thought it'd be. "Oh god, oh fuck, Kurt, gonna—oh fuck…"
Blaine's back arches once more and Kurt slides his arm up to Blaine's torso, bracing it against the boning as Blaine comes with a long, low moan, clenching around Kurt's cock sporadically. It only takes Kurt a few more thrusts before he's coming, biting down gently on Blaine's shoulder as his hips thrust weakly forward.
After he slides slowly out of Blaine he does his best to quickly undo the ties in the corset, loosening enough to allow Blaine room to take a deep breath. They both flop onto their backs, too lazy to do anything else.
"I think it's a good thing we're being adventurous while we're young," Kurt says to the ceiling, hand on his abdomen as he catches his breath. He remembers a time when he'd be abhorred that he'd be so comfortable lying naked above the covers with the lights on and almost laughs.
Blaine turns to look at him, eyebrows raised and a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I think that was my line."
Kurt shakes his head the best he can while laying down. "Nope. Not anymore. It's a shared line as long as we're together."
Blaine's fingers brush his and Kurt immediately tangles them together, smiling contentedly. They don't need to say any more; the weight of Kurt's sentence sits heavy in the air, its meaning and promise heady and true. For them, there will always be a "we," a "together." Never an "alone" or "forgotten." Those words don't exist in their world.
Kurt rolls over, places his hand on Blaine's chest and the corset covering it. He plays with the bow before leaning up to press his lips to Blaine's. "Thank you," he whispers, the words slipping out before he can process them.
"What for?" The look Blaine gives him is quizzical but not unhappy.
Kurt flushes and shrugs, ducking his head and smiling. "I dunno. For being you. Perfect."
He looks up just in time to see Blaine rolls his eyes but smile, reaching out to card his fingers through Kurt's sweaty hair. "You're welcome? I guess. But I think it's me who should be saying that, not you."
"Mm, no serious discussions," Kurt says, feeling tiredness seep into his bones. "We have a few more hours together before your parents come home. Let's cuddle and make the best of it."
Blaine laughs and pulls Kurt closer, leaving the loosened corset on as the tangle their legs together. He'll get around to it.