Author's Note: Sorry this update is a few days late! The chapter just kept building and building and I couldn't stop myself. New characters, situations, and problems galore! Maybe even a little bit more of Blaine's background.
Enjoy!
Song explanation:
Blaine (Bold)
Kurt (Italic/Bold)
[Santana] (Brackets/Bold)
Hope you like it and that it makes sense! Let me know if it doesn't!
*Warning* for phone sex, semi-public nudity, voyeurism, and curse words.
Again, no beta. All mistakes are my own.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.
~C.J.
(Chapter 22)
Kurt internally panicked when the three men stared at him, his hands starting to sweat when no one said anything. He wasn't really one who was at a loss for words, but the last thing he wanted to do was cause trouble for Blaine with his friends during his first time meeting them.
Okay Blaine, you can come back any second now.
"So, Kirk. What is it you do exactly?" Nick smirked, beginning to walk around in front of Kurt, almost as if he was circling him.
"It's Kurt, actually." He corrected.
"Like that makes a difference. I never exactly catalog the names of Blaine's different tricks." The bass player chuckled, still eyeing Kurt up and down.
Any. Second. Now.
"Nicky…" Jeff tried, never knowing how to calm his boyfriend down when he looked all predatory like that. He only liked that look when it was aimed at him, not anyone else.
Nick scoffed at the half-assed reprimand, "Though I suppose you making it to a second practice is quite the accomplishment. I must applaud you." Then he started clapping, slowly and mockingly. "How good of a lay are you?"
Kurt could feel his cheeks heating up, eyes narrowing into a glare with every insult that came his was. Trent rushed forward when he finally put two and two together. "Oooh, so you're Blaine's new guy! That's so awesome."
"Yeah, this has got to Blaine's fastest rebound rate yet. Another groupie to add to the ever growing list, huh?"
Do I look like a groupie to you?
Trent ignored him, "Blaine's a really nice guy, though he could keep better company." He pointedly looked at Nick, who pffted at him. "I'm Trent."
The blue-eyed boy grit his teeth, hesitantly shaking Trent's offered hand. "Kurt."
"I wonder if Blaine's asked him if he'd be interested in a threesome yet. Wouldn't be his first either." Nick smirked, enjoying the way Kurt's hands curled into fists.
"Nick, what the hell are you trying to accomplish?" Trent hissed, glancing back at Kurt with an apologetic look.
"Nothing." He said unconvincingly, "I just thought Kurt ought to know what he's getting himself into. I mean, Blaine IS a kinky bastard, even if he isn't picky on whether he's sticking his dick into a tight ass or a wet cunt…I'm still not certain which one you have by the way."
Huh…so that's how it's going to be.
"Oh my damn, shots fired." They could hear Jeff whisper to himself, stuffing a handful of goldfish into his mouth as he watched the scene unfold.
"Fuck, Nick. You are not only crossing a line, but you are being downright spiteful. None of that is any of our business." The drummer tried to reason.
"And leave Kurt in the dark about who Blaine really is? Now THAT would be spiteful." He explained, shoving past Trent to get in Kurt's personal space. "Here's the deal. Sebastian and Blaine have been dancing around each other for the better part of four years. No matter who, or for how long, Blaine decides he wants to romp around in the sheets with, he will always goes back to Seb. And don't flatter yourself in thinking you're the exception. I mean what did he do? Sing with you, or to you? Try cooking you dinner maybe? I bet you thought it was cute considering he can't cook for shit." Then he paused for a moment, expression lighting up, "Oh no, he took you to the boardwalk. I remember now. Dear little Kurtie, did you honestly think you were the only one he's ever taken there?"
Kurt didn't say a word. This 'friend' of Blaine's didn't deserve even the slightest bit of a reaction, let alone a response. He just stared at Nick, really trying not to bitch-slap that condescending grin off his smug face.
You don't know a thing about us, or what we have.
Nick tutted pityingly at him, "Look, I'm not trying to be mean, only honest. You are just the newest flavor of the month, an exciting little fling that will inevitably end with Blaine either in someone else's bed, or back in Sebastian's. But I get it though, I do. The prep-school boy knows how to work his charm. I bet you've already given him a little taste, haven't you?" His lips curved upwards, licking his teeth when Kurt turned away and refused to look at him. "Well, if you want my advice, enjoy the way he spreads your pretty little dancer's legs while you can. Because our boy has a tendency to rut and run, catch my drift?"
"I think that's enough, Nicholas." Jeff pouted, using his boyfriend's proper name. "Please."
He just rolled his eyes, actually stepping back when Jeff pleaded with him. No one knew why the blonde was the only one Nick would ever listen to. "I'm just saying, Blaine is the type of person who still hasn't figured out what he wants. So he test drives everything on the lot, do you really want to end up being one of the many heartbroken rides he uses and tosses aside?" The band member shrugged, as if saying that decision was up to Kurt. "The guy is very easily distracted by anything shiny and new, or sexy and lewd. Plus at this stage, I'm sure your luster is already beginning to dull. And, sorry to say this, but I don't think you can keep the interest of his wandering eye for much longer." Then he pressed his hands together as if in prayer, resting the gesture in front of his lips. "Changing yourself, always trying to be fresh and exciting, are you really up for that? Because no offense, Kurt, but you don't seem to be all that captivating at face value…"
"…don't you agree?"
Kurt shook himself from his thoughts, "Huh? What?"
"I asked if you agree." Blaine repeated, furrowing his brows.
"Oh, yeah, sure." He chuckled, resisting the urge to self-consciously pull the sleeves of his sweater over his hands. "Wait, agree on what? Wh-What were you saying?"
Blaine frowned, tilting his head slightly to study the other's face. "Kurt, what were you thinking about just now?"
"What ever do you mean?"
"I mean you look kind of worried. Are you having second thoughts? It's okay if you are." The musician commented, trying to smile at the other's troubled expression. Kurt tried to figure out what Blaine was referring to, and then he remembered where they were.
Our audition.
He sat up a bit straighter, waiting in the cold with Blaine to be let inside. It looked like it was being renovated from the outside, no one would suspect select auditions would be going on in there. Maybe that was how they liked it. Kurt shivered a bit in his coat, trying to focus on today and not on comments made days ago. Comments that were obviously false and just meant to make him question himself. As if Kurt was going to play into Nick's little hissy fit of attention. He had no idea what that guy's problem was. "No nothing like that. I guess I'm just nervous. This is my first legitimate audition, for anything. Just don't want to mess this up, for either of us, you know?"
Fibbing shouldn't come this easy.
"You couldn't mess this up. I don't think it's possible to mess up your dream." Blaine smiled reassuringly. "But so what if neither one of us gets a part. That won't be because of you. If this isn't the play for us, we'll just keep auditioning. Like every star before us would do. When has anyone ever gotten a callback from their first Broadway audition anyways?"
"Rachel."
"…why am I not surprised?" He chuckled, his warm breath puffing out visibly. The musician stuck his hand out to his audition partner, wanting to grip their gloved hands together in a comforting gesture. "You're ready, Kurt. We both are."
Well, at least as ready as we can hope to be at this point.
Kurt gave him a halfhearted grin, letting their clothed fingers intertwine the best they could with the extra cloth barrier between them. They had their song picked out, they had arrived early before their time slot, and neither one of them had consumed dairy products in the last forty-eight hours. Literally, the only thing left for them to do, was sing. This was officially the beginning of a career Kurt should have started years ago.
…no offense, Kurt, but you don't seem to be all that captivating…
Ugh, so why were Nick's words still swimming around in his head? He put that little troublemaking chump in his place when he was able to recruit the band member's own boyfriend into liking him. Then again, Jeff was probably excited to have someone other than himself who wasn't intimidated by Nick's alpha male bravado. He could see right through it. Kurt didn't know what crawled up the bass player's ass that made him act the way he did, but he wasn't going to let the guy's bad attitude ruin what was occurring between him and Blaine. No sir. Not one bit.
"Time slot 2:46, Blaine Anderson?" A woman, assistant probably, asked from the theatre's open door.
"Right here!" Blaine waved enthusiastically.
"This casting director will see you now."
The curly haired boy turned to him, smiling like an overexcited puppy and giving him an enthusiastic thumbs-up. "This is it!"
Can I pee first?
Seems as if only the outside was being renovated. Once the boys stepped inside, the theatre was actually quite remarkable. Having only been in attendance to the occasional show that was normally flooded with people, to see it so bare and raw was wonderfully surreal. Kurt couldn't keep the smile off his face, having already forgotten about his earlier thoughts pertaining to not so supportive people. Blaine indeed found the theatre spectacular, but watching the blue-eyed boy's face light up as they took in the theatre's grand interior was even more fascinating to watch. They followed the assistant to the stage, climbing up it when she silently gestured for them to do so.
I really don't care if I get a role.
I'm going to get to sing for Baz Luhrmann, and right now, that's enough for me.
Kurt though, it's about time Kurt got something he wanted.
"Name." The director stated.
"Kurt Hummel. Um…well, no. I'm not Kurt. He's Kurt. I'm just Blaine, Blaine Anderson." The boy fumbled out, Kurt slowly turning his head to look at him in confusion.
"Kurt…Kurt Hummel?" The director said languidly, testing out the name. Something like recognition lacing his voice.
The paler boy snapped his attention to the director, the man leaving his paper-scattered rectangular table to walk closer to the stage. His face was illuminated when he stepped under the staged lighting from above, Kurt's curious expression morphing into one of shock. "J-Jessie? Jessie St. James. Ho-ly Crap."
What even?
"Kurt, what an interesting turn of events. How've you been?"
"I'm f—"
"Good, good. I don't care. So how's Rachel doing these days? Still lowering her standards to that oversized dimwit?" Jessie asked, leaning back against the table and crossing his arms over his chest.
So lost.
Kurt rolled his eyes, "If you mean Finn, my brother, then yeah. They're still together. Married even. Sorry you didn't get an invite to the wedding."
Jessie hummed, tapping one of his pens against his chin. "What a waste. Her talent and beauty overshadowed by his unimpressive features and overall mediocrity. A shame really. Their children will be so unfortunate."
He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm down and resisting the urge to throw a rafter at him. "Jessie, as happy as I am to see you, do we get to audition for Baz Luhrmann or not?"
The pompous director wrinkled his nose, "Baz Luhrmann? Is that the only reason you two came here?" He sighed, "Mr. Luhrmann is not directly involved with the start-up of this project. He's decided to take a back seat during this stage of development, but if you're lucky you might see him on opening night up in one of the VIP suites. You see, because of my impressive performance resume and extensive experience of various things Broadway, I have been chosen to head this once in a lifetime endeavor."
Lord, like his ego wasn't big enough in high school. Now THIS.
"So…I'm guessing you two know each other?" Blaine guessed hesitantly.
I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing.
"Unfortunately."
"Hardly."
They both said at the same time, Blaine just wilting because he didn't know how to proceed. Kurt took pity on him, "Look, Jessie, we just came here for the chance to audition. If this thing you had with Rachel is going to sway your judgment against me, that's fine. Just don't let our past affect Blaine's chances. He's really very good. It's not his fault that he's just had the misfortune of knowing me…" He trailed off softly, the hazel-eyed man next to him surprised by his statement.
Kurt…
"Now, now. No need for such theatrics, at least save them for your performance." Jessie chuckled, "I forgot what an over-the-top personality you have. Reminds me of why I never cared to befriend such a melodramatic individual as yourself."
Instead of Kurt responding with his own amount of sass, he concentrated on the only important part of his little spiel. "Jessie, please correct me if I'm wrong, but did you just agree to allow us to audition for this musical?"
He waved a dismissive hand at him, "If you think a little thing like history would get in the way of me finding my perfect cast for this project, then you must think very little of me, and I'm honestly insulted."
Well, I wasn't going to mention it.
"Okay, I'm still confused. Are we going to sing, or should I just go home?" Blaine raised a hand in inquiry, feeling put out when it seemed as if the director completely forgot he was even there.
Jessie barely spared him a glance, before shifting his gaze back to Kurt. "Slow, this one ya got here. Guess yours and Rachel's tastes are more similar then I would have figured." He laughed to himself, Kurt narrowing his glasz eyes at him. "Though I suppose I can't exactly refer to him as an oversized dimwit, maybe undersized."
Hey, you're not very nice.
"M'not a dimwit," Blaine grumbled to himself, his lips pushing out into an adorable pout.
"I think I'm just going to put on our music now." Kurt rubbed the sides of his temples, taking his first step towards the assistant waiting in the stage wings.
Yup, that's a migraine. I'm getting a migraine.
"Oh, but wait. Kurt, have you forgotten? I've already seen you perform with a ballad of your choosing before." Jessie halted him, "And if you remember, I wasn't all that impressed."
"I'm hardly the person I was in high school. I know you haven't changed much, but I have." Kurt shot at him. "I might be biased in saying that any performance I did in high school was at the very least satisfactory, but in any case, since then I have been coached by some of the very best performers Broadway has ever seen. Respectfully, Jessie, you have no idea what I can do now."
"Yeah, you and every other struggling performer who has blown through my theatre." The director leaned forward a bit, his demeanor turning more serious. "I heard through the grapevine that you and Rachel were the only ones from McKinley to be accepted into NYADA. Admittedly, I was impressed." He ignored Kurt's smug look. "Though, intrigued would also be the word for it. Considering you were accepted based on your talents as a pianist." He smirked a bit, watching as the paler male's face took on a blank façade. "I suppose I'm just curious as to why you would change majors, departments even, in the middle of your college career."
Uh-oh.
"Guess Carmen Tibideaux thought my abilities would be more suited elsewhere."
"Is that so?"
"Well, what other explanation can there be? No artist in their right mind would make such an impulsive, life altering choice otherwise."
He hummed again, short but calculating. "I assume today we shall see if the great Carmen Tibideaux was right in doing so."
"Are we singing today, Jessie, or not?" Kurt grit out.
"I would love nothing more."
"Great."
"But, I do have a stipulation." Jessie smiled again, glinting and playful.
Of course you do.
"And what's that?"
"You will sing a song of my choosing. The both of you."
"Fantastic!" Kurt wasn't going to give Jessie the satisfaction of seeing him sweat.
"With my Satine."
What?
What?
Jessie snapped his fingers at his assistant, gesturing for her to go fetch his project's female lead. Blaine just stood there, eyes wide and mouth open because how the fuck does he get himself into these messes? He didn't even have to say anything this time. "W-Wait, you want us to perform a number, with a stranger, unrehearsed?"
"Of course not."
Thank God.
"I will give you…" He glanced down at his wristwatch, "twenty-three minutes to figure something out with each other."
"We can't possibly figure out anything decent in less than thirty minutes! Especially when we have a perfectly good, well-rehearsed, number that we've been working on for days!" Blaine shouted.
"Now just imagine how much more impressed I will be when you two manage a performance that consists of improvising to this extent. Not to mention get my first glance at how much chemistry you two may or may not have with this Moulin Rouge's Satine." Jessie twirled a pen idly. "Showbiz is all about being ready to deal with any amount of pressure, boys, putting on a show no matter the disaster. It's safe to say that you two are well-versed with every one of this musical's songs, right?"
"Y-Yes, but—"
"Excellent. I assume one of you is auditioning for the part of Christian, yes?" He looked them up and down for a moment, and then snorted. "Wild guess, but would that be you, Anderson?"
Not quite.
"We both are, Jessie." Kurt said firmly, grinding his teeth when the director barely tried to conceal himself chocking on a laugh.
Blaine chuckled nervously, "Actually, I'm good with either Toulouse or The Unconscious Argentinian."
"Kurt, are you being serious?" Completely ignoring Blaine's statement.
Jerk.
"Scared I might surprise you, Jessie? Prove you wrong?" The paler boy smirked.
The director scoffed, "We'll just see, won't we?" He tapped a finger against his chin, the slight upturning corners of his mouth unsettling. " You know what, I think 'El Tango de Roxanne' will do just fine for you two."
Blaine spluttered, "A tango? An unrehearsed tango!?"
"It showcases both your roles. You don't have a problem with this, do you?" He crossed his arms over his chest, relishing the idea of the curly haired boy whining about the stipulation.
"As a matter of fact—"
"We'll do it." Kurt interjected, staring down Jessie even as the man beside him seemed frazzled.
"Great, and—Santana! Nice of you grace up with your presence."
No…no, no, no. It couldn't.
But when Kurt turned towards the sounds of dance shoes walking towards them, he knew it could. The Hispanic smiled leisurely, the sheer dance wrap over her black leotard fluttering around her waist. "My, my, my, Richard Simmons. We meet again."
This can't get any worse.
"And with that, you are now down to nineteen minutes."
Apparently it can.
"Kurt, for a large city, we sure are running into a lot of your old high school acquaintances."
"Don't remind me." The blue-eyed boy said, moving his neck in a circle in an attempt to loosen up. The initial shock of seeing Santana again after nearly a decade couldn't last too long, both of them still had to figure out how to get through this audition without seeming completely incompetent. Surprisingly, Santana wanted nothing more than to help them. She said something about the look on Rachel's face being priceless when she realizes Santana is not only a star on Broadway, but lead alongside her very own brother-in-law. Not very noble reasons for helping them out, but Kurt knew him and Blaine were going to take what they can get. Plus, if anyone was going to have to grope her throughout the musical, she wanted it to be at the hands of men who preferred to grope other men. Understandable, considering she was in a very committed relationship with a smalltime singer named Danny. Though, he was sure any unwanted advances would be settled in her very own Lima Heights Adjacent way.
"Hey," Blaine said softly, Kurt opening his eyes to see the other man right in front of him. The distracted male having been jolted from his derailed train of thought, like really, what was with his constantly wandering mind today? "Should I even ask what you were thinking just now?"
Kurt laughed a bit, "Probably not. I don't think I even followed where my thoughts were going this time."
He hummed, "Well, at least your friend Santana isn't against us. So that's good, right?"
God, I hope so.
"Think you can handle a tango with her?"
Blaine moved his shoulders, also trying to loosen up. "But of course, we Argentinians love dancing with exceptionally beautiful ladies such as her." He smirked, putting on a gruffer and hopefully more foreign accent for the time being. Kurt furrowed his brows, glancing over at Santana who was on the ground stretching one of her legs. The shorter male chuckled, "Not to worry, my sweet. I would much prefer being pressed up against your strikingly attractive figure." He winked, and then walked off to his position on stage. If Blaine had hoped that little comment would have soothed Kurt, it didn't.
"All right, short stack. Ready for some rhythm foreplay?" She sauntered over to him, Blaine giving her a too wide smile that had Kurt bristling.
"But of course. Argentinians are always up for foreplay." He teased, looking her up and down like he really did find pleasure in the way she looked. "Is my lovely prostitute ready to take the lead?"
Santana snorted, "Oh baby gay, I just hope you can keep up." She tutted, and pressed herself a little bit too close for Kurt's comfort. He doesn't remember any of that going down when they were rehearsing two minutes ago!
They are getting way too into their roles.
Kurt mused while Jessie called for the track to be played, starting their audition. He stared at them as they played around each other, getting into character as the beginning of the tango rang throughout the theatre. The two each held out a hand to one other, their palms barely touching between them as they stalked around each other in a circle, never breaking eye contact. Kurt rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, and then ran his fingers through his hair, trying to let whatever was running through his mind go. Now was not the time for personal jealousy (not that that's what is was), he had to concentrate on his inner Christian coming out, and all the emotions that his character was feeling.
I only get one shot at this, and I'm going to make it count.
"Will drive you, will drive you…"
Will drive you.
"MAD!"
Blaine shouted, the two of them shifting and switching out their hands that touched. Their palms colliding with one another, clasping each other as the Argentinian character pulled his prostitute towards his body. The woman's back now flush against her dance partner's chest. Santana gasped, their joined hands stretching out in the traditional tango as another hand came to rest on her waist. She seemed completely under his influence, as if the male wasn't actually following the female's lead.
Roxanne, you don't have to put on that red light
Walk the streets for money
You don't care if it's wrong or if it is right.
Santana turned back to him, painted red lips parting faintly as her brown eyes gazed into his hazel. Their steps moved forward, slow pick-up with a sudden striking step. They moved with the beat, Blaine blinking slowly and hooding his eyes as if her very scent brought arousal to him.
Roxanne, you don't have to wear that dress tonight.
Roxanne, you don't have to sell your body to the night.
Blaine turned her abruptly, and pressed his chest against hers as he proceeded to bend her, dip her back into a beautiful arch. His lips brushed against the hollow of her throat, and his hand slipped down past her waist.
His eyes upon your face
His hand upon your hand
His lips caress your skin
Kurt watched them as they moved against each other, Blaine's hands touching her body and gripping her softer parts. Santana played it up too, little surprised sounds trickling from her lips almost as if she were shocked by the touches, maybe even enjoying them.
It's more than I can stand
It ate away inside him, Kurt's and Christian's jealousy colliding in his mind and bringing angry tears to his eyes. He didn't know where his personal feeling started and Christian's ended. It was madness. The blue-eyed boy knew he was just supposed to watch, and sing, but both were becoming increasingly difficult with each passing second.
Roxanne
Why does my heart cry?
With her back to his chest, Santana wrapped her leg around Blaine's thigh, stretching the other out as her Argentinian wrapped his arm around her entire waist. Her head leant back to rest on his shoulder while one hand went to grip the back of his neck, her painted nails digging right under the beginnings of his curls. He twirled them artfully, her sheer wrap flapping around her waist in it's own dance.
Roxanne
Feelings I can't fight
Kurt could feel the blood boiling under his skin. The most seductive, and the most effective foreplay was playing out right before his very eyes. He wasn't sure if Blaine remembered he was even there, what with his focus entirely set on Santana. Nick's words were ringing in his ears with every caress the dancing duo gave each other, every inviting noise they made, and every note Blaine sung in his roughened low pitch.
The guy is very easily distracted…
You're free to leave me
But just don't deceive me
And please
Believe me when I say
I love you
The Argentinian curved both their bodies into a side dip, one hand holding her up by her hip and the other cradling her neck preciously despite the raunchy undertone of the scene. Santana raised her free hand to cup his cheek, whispering the Latin verse to him as she slowly craned her neck upward, bringing their faces and lips dangerously close to one another.
[Yo que te quiero tanto, que voy a hacer?]
[Me dejaste…me dejaste como una paloma]
[El alma se me fue; se me fue el corazon]
[Ya no tengo ganas de vivir porque no te puedo convencer]
[Que no te vendas, Roxanne]
He knew it was all an act, but did they have to be so convincing? Kurt couldn't bear it anymore. Throwing their last minute plan out the window, the paler male made a beeline for them, catching Santana between their bodies the second after Blaine gently placed her back on two feet. She broke character for a moment, whipping her head behind her to look at Kurt in shock. The Argentinian unable to hide his mirroring bewildered expression.
Roxanne—you don't have to put on that red light
Why does my heart cry?
Feelings I can't fight
You don't have to wear that dress tonight
A tear slipped down Kurt's porcelain cheek, lyrics sounding pained as they left his throat. Blaine didn't understand what was going on, all he knew was that the beautiful man in front of him looked so angry, and devastated. Santana was the only one that brought the two lovers out of their staring match, encouraging them to place their hands on her, leaning and moving against them in a sensual illusion that emulated the act of a person taking more than one lover to bed. Then be ravished by both.
Roxanne—you don't have to put on that red light
Roxanne—you don't have to wear that dress tonight
Blaine shot a hand out and gripped Kurt's shoulder, bringing the two closer to him as he attempted to salvage what was left of their performance. He gripped onto Santana's thigh to drag his hand up past her hip and abdomen, scratching his nails up as he went. For good measure he dove in to place a light kiss on the taunt pull of her neck, looking right into Kurt's eyes as he did it, the Argentinian showing possessiveness over the whore he isn't finished with yet.
ROXANNE!
Kurt pushed Blaine's shoulder, making the shorter boy look at him in agitated confusion. He tried to pull Santana away, trying to get the woman away from his lover, but to an audience it only looked like the Christian character didn't have enough patience to wait for his turn. On the inside though, Kurt's mind kept echoing things he really should not be listening to.
…don't flatter yourself in thinking you're the exception…
Roxanne
The curly haired male went along with the sudden outburst, both of the boys grappling at the prostitute. Blaine trying to bring Santana to him while Kurt was trying to shove her out of the way. Two sets of hands bent and manhandled her body in any way they wished, the Hispanic putting up with the two guys fighting over her in an attempt to authenticate her part in the performance. She didn't know what had come over those two, especially Kurt, but she wasn't going to let them affect her place in the show.
Roxanne…
When the music finally ended in the grand abrupt way it did, Blaine let go. Kurt gave one last effort at pushing her away, and succeeded. Santana let her body fall dramatically to the floor, whether it was from death or the exhaustion of pleasing two men, she didn't bother to make the distinction.
Blaine merely made a subtly gesture with his hand, asking and wondering what the hell had just happened between them. Now that the song was over and the intense instrumentals weren't booming in his ears, amplifying his emotions, Kurt began to feel very embarrassed. He knew what came over him, but he just couldn't believe he let his insecurities take ahold of him like that, especially during an audition! Kurt couldn't even look at the musician, just wiped some wetness from his cheek and stared at the floor while Blaine continued to stare at him. The two only lifted their heads when someone started clapping, flickering their gaze offstage where the noise came from.
Jessie was slowly clapping as if he were someone waiting for more people to join in. He chuckled to himself, not at all concerned with the little tiff he was unaware he just witnessed in favor of glancing down at the party clown he drew on his notepad. "Now, for my critiques."
Kurt heard his phone ringing, he knew who was calling him. This wasn't the first call he's received from the same number in the past half hour. He hasn't moved since the calls started, just listening to his phone beep as he lay on Rachel and Finn's bed, naked except for the towel wrapped around his waist. Lucky for him, the couple had similarly crazy work schedules, most of the time he had their loft to himself. With his body dry and his matted hair stuck up in the position they dried into on the pillow, this past week's events were unfortunately still replaying in his mind. The boy didn't know if he could answer his phone just yet, still feeling mortified by his behavior, and over what? False truths for all he knew. Everything Nick said had to be just talk, Blaine hadn't shown any instance of being someone who uses others. Maybe he was a bit too good at pretending to be, but then again that's what makes actors great, right? How convincing they can portray the characters they play?
This is ridiculous.
I'M ridiculous.
The next time the phone rang, Kurt snatched it up and answered it. "Um…hi."
"Oh, you answered…hi yourself."
Wasn't expecting that.
"Shower. I was in the shower."
"Right…which was why I called after you got out."
"But I was—"
"You forget when your curtains are drawn up I can see into the bedroom. Especially during the day."
"What?"
"There are things I wish I've never seen occurring in Finn and Rachel's bed." He chuckled, "And I can see up your towel. Very nice."
Kurt sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, tightening the towel as he walked over towards the window. He was flushing profusely, even as he saw Blaine waving from his own lengthy window. The guitarist was only in a pair of bright yellow boxers. "You could NOT possibly have seen up my towel."
"No, but I did notice you coming out with no clothes on. Guess it was just wishful thinking that you weren't dressed yet."
"Well, you must be very fortunate to have been right."
"Indeed I was." Blaine smiled, happy that their little instance of radio silence was over. He leant forward and pressed an arm against the upper frame of the window, watching Kurt flustering around trying to be mad at him. "So, funny thing I heard. Apparently 'Pav's Last Song' has a gig tomorrow night. Wes and David are flailing around because of how little time we have to prepare."
"Are you normally told you have jobs so close to the night of performance?" Kurt asked, finding it odd.
Blaine laughed, "Not exactly. We've had the gig for more than a week actually. 'The Pinn Up' just hasn't exactly let us in on that little tidbit."
That doesn't seem very fair.
"Finn is normally on top of that kind of stuff." The blue-eyed boy furrowed his brows. "You don't seem to be that upset by it though."
"I find it especially hilarious. Considering Puck had entrusted Jake with calling David about us getting the gig. The guys were honestly too happy about being hired to be all that upset about the mix up. But from what I hear, Jake got punished with garbage and toilet duty for the rest of month." He added, maybe feeling a bit bad about the situation since the bouncer's forgetfulness might be because of the time he's put into helping Ryder find the elusive stalker.
I wonder if they've found anything else out…
"As he should." Kurt giggled somewhat, smiling to himself.
Blaine hummed into the phone, tilting his head and squinting some in hopes of focusing on Kurt better. Catching sight of how much calmer his demeanor was since the other day. "Kurt, if you don't mind me asking, what happened at the audition?"
Kurt immediately went tense, down casting his eyes to the alleyway. "I do believe I don't know what you mean."
"Ya sure? Because either you're really good at playing jealous Christian, or I did something to seriously upset you, and you know how I hate upsetting you."
"What could you have possibly done to upset me? All you did was dance a little rhythm foreplay." Kurt huffed, defensiveness lacing his soft tone.
Ah…I see.
The curly haired male gave the other a sympathetic smirk. "Kurt, Santana is very beautiful, but I don't think she's my type."
"From what I hear, just about everything is your type." He mumbled.
Blaine was taken aback by that, "Hear? Hear from who?"
"It doesn't matter, I'm just curious if there's any truth to it."
"Of course not!"
"Are you sure? You've never…" Kurt bit his lip, still feeling a bit uneasy. Nick wouldn't completely fabricate something if it had no basis to it. That's just—why would he? "You know what? Never mind. We said we weren't going to push each other about our pasts. It's unfair for me to make you."
Maybe this is why Blaine was so hesitant to tell me about them.
"Just…forget it. Tell me more about Jake cleaning toilets and rolling around in garbage." The pale boy tried to shake off.
"Throwing out garbage." Blaine clarified.
"Right." Kurt chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
The other blinked, hazel eyes trained on the half naked figure across the alleyway. He's already lying to him every minute they're together, the least he could do was be truthful where he could. "What if I said, they were right, even if it's only partially?"
"It's ok if you don't want to."
You're right about that.
"I don't. Just for not the reasons you think." Blaine explained, taking Kurt's answering silence as a go ahead. "I don't know how they put it, but it wasn't on purpose. After everything with Sebastian, I was just trying to prove to myself that it could be just as good with basically anyone else, better even and without all the cheating. No matter who they were, they were definitely going to be an improvement from him." He shook his head. "Maybe I did all that to spite him, show Sebastian how little he meant to me, that what he did didn't really affect me."
"You did that by sleeping around? I'm not following."
Blaine chuckled dryly, "Let's just say, newly-broken-up Blaine living the single life in New York surrounded by a couple band groupies was a very self-destructive combination for me. Then there was booze, that didn't help the situation much either." He mused, thinking upon things he wished he hadn't done.
"And when you say groupies, you mean women too?" The blue-eyed boy asked carefully.
The shorter male scrubbed a hand over his face, "I went through a phase where I thought my parents might have been right. As in being straight might solve all my problems. Specifically the Sebastian type cheating problems that hurt me more than I was willing to admit." Though, he quickly added, "Don't worry. That didn't last long."
Kurt frowned, "And yet, even after all that? Sebastian still hung around? Why?"
"Probably because he's a guy who grew up with no real problems, got whatever, whenever, and however. I didn't put up much of a fight back in high school, when he first transferred in he was intriguing as fuck. And like an idiot, I fell hard for the first guy to ever show interest in me." The musician trailed off lightly.
I know what you mean.
"He wasn't ready for you two to be over." It wasn't a question.
Blaine snorted, "Something like that. The harder I pushed him away, the more he tried to get me under him. Literally and figuratively. I think he enjoyed toying with me, tormenting me through the band. The guys sure as hell weren't very much help. He certainly found that more entertaining than when I acted like I loved him, courted and wooed him."
"If he was so terrible, why did you keep going back to him?"
"I don't know. It wasn't because I wanted to get back together with him. It's just that, he was the closest thing to a relationship I've ever had. It didn't matter who I did, I couldn't get that…that appeal, that spark like I could when I was first with Sebastian. I was using him when other relationships fell through. I'm not proud of that either." He shook his head.
Kurt nodded, not sure if Blaine was seeing him do it. "Sometimes you think it's safer to go back to what you know, not matter how bad it was, because you've never known anything else."
"Yeah…something like that."
"I'm sorry if I brought up things you would have preferred not to talk about."
He chuckled, "Don't worry about it. You're the only person I've ever been with long enough to tell any of this."
"Well is that a good thing or a bad thing?" He teased lightly.
"Guess we'll see." Blaine commented. Talking about his own track record rather than the confidence he had in his relationship with Kurt. However, the porcelain skinned boy didn't quiet perceive it that way.
Wait, so should I still be worried about his so-called wandering eye?
"Blaine, can I ask you something?"
"Course."
"Am I…boring?"
He laughed outright at that, "Are you kidding? You're the single most interesting person in all of New York. Whatever made you think you were boring?"
"Just…" Kurt sighed.
Why did I even bring it up?
"What they said to you. It was about more than just me, wasn't it?" When Kurt didn't say anything, Blaine knew he had his answer. "Would you like me to tell you how very un-boring you are?" He asked, voice a tad lower than before.
Kurt could feel heat radiate up his spine when the sound of his voice changed. "And exactly, how would you do that?"
"Oh, possibly by listing every one of your most intriguing features." Blaine smirked, looking Kurt up and down with a much more inappropriate intention.
"One of them better be my mind, Anderson."
"That's on the list. Along with your sparkling personality."
I'm so sure.
"Really?"
"Yes, they're just not the ones I'm going to highlight at the moment." The curly haired male chuckled, images swimming in his mind that reminded him just how little time he's had to lay eyes upon Kurt's magnificent body. He really must fix that. "Though I must say, that towel does hide some of my favorite parts."
Fair cheeks blushed, Kurt glancing around the alleyway for a moment, towards the street to make sure the sidewalk was out of view before he spoke his next words. "You know what they say, don't you?" He smiled mischievously, tucking the phone between his shoulder and ear as he slowly unwrapped the towel from his waist. "It's so much more exciting to look when you can't touch." Kurt kicking the towel behind him as he bared himself to Blaine, cock twitching when the other's breath became harsher through the phone.
This should keep his interest.
Blaine swallowed thickly, curling his fingers against the wall when he saw this man displayed in front of him. The windowsill was sitting just below his groin, sadly hiding his toned creamy thighs. His boxer's bugle beginning to grow the longer he stared, Kurt's hand beginning to explore his own body. "You beautifully kinky bastard."
Kurt chuckled, tweaking his nipples just to feel that light spark shoot to his growing erection, helping it fill and lengthen. He gasped at his own ministrations, closing his eyes to guide his hands lower, pretending Blaine's hands were on him instead of his own. "Talk to me, Blaine. Tell me, tell me about the parts of me you find intriguing." The boy mewled, teasing and beginning to fondle himself below the belt.
Wickedly wondrous man.
He thought it was going to be difficult, voicing his previous thoughts before the towel dropped, but on the contrary, it was the exact opposite. Once Blaine opened his mouth, he couldn't stop. "Your hair, how silky soft it is when I run my fingers through it. When I grip it and tug your head back, just so I can press my lips to your fluttering pulse." The answering whimper he got was enough for him to know what he said was having the desired effect. "Don't even get me started on your eyes, they reflect the city lights themselves, and change about twenty different shades of blue. My favorite is the steely blue they turned when you were sucking my cock."
Kurt let out a shuddering breath, mouth watering because he still remembered it. How big he felt in his mouth and the pungent way he tasted. "Is that all?"
"Not even close." Blaine confessed, wishing he wasn't so far away. "I'm kind of in love with your fingers. They're so slender and long, perfect for playing piano and for wrapping around my dick. You have no idea how amazing they felt inside me, they spread me open and reach so far, I could've come from just fucking myself on your fingers." He groaned, tugging on his tented boxers. "They're almost as talented as your mouth. When you're not belting notes I could not even dream of hitting, it's just right for hugging my cock. Tight and warm, the most invitingly fuckable throat. Can't wait to do that again, and watch your lips part for me, suck me in so completely. Use them till they're the most gorgeous shade of red, plump and ripe for me kiss and bite." Blaine growled, haphazardly pulling down on one side of his boxer's elastic, trying to liberally lick his palm before giving up to just spit in it and shove his hand inside his shorts.
Lube. Bathroom. Too far.
The paler boy could hear his muffled movements, smiling to himself when he heard that last bit. "How do you taste, Blaine?"
"Not as good as you that's for damn sure. God, you have no idea how wonderful you taste. All over even. Could lick and mouth at your milky white skin for hours, taste you at your very core if you'd let me. Haven't had the chance to really appreciate your ass though. Would you let me, Kurt? Let me show you how good it can be, how good it's…supposed to be?" Blaine chocked out, squeezing his length as he waited for Kurt's answer.
The other slowed down his touches, fluttering his eyes open when Blaine's words sunk in. "Do you want to fuck me, Blaine?"
"No, I want to make love to you. I want to worship your body in any way I can, the way it should have been and the way it should always be." He confessed, speeding up his strokes again.
Please.
Kurt nodded, stomach fluttering at the idea. "What would you do? Can you tell me what you would do?"
The hazel-eyed male licked his lips, hard on throbbing at the request. "I'd open you up, nice and slow, slick my fingers up so I could just slid them right in. Get you wetter even though you'd already be sloppy from me eating you out, lick into your hole because you would have begged me for it."
"Mhmm…" He hummed, lifting one of his hands to suck two fingers into his mouth, moaning around the digits as he licked them down to the webbing.
Blaine gulped, feeling his mouth dry when he saw what the other was doing. "I wouldn't be able to resist giving you a little spanking though, sorry. Just thinking about your porcelain ass blushing with my handprint is too much to pass up. I-I wouldn't without your permission though." He clarified, grunting when the image wouldn't leave his mind, heat in his belly burning hotter with each stroke.
Shit, already getting close.
He pulled his fingers from his mouth, taking deep breaths as he reached behind himself, his hole clenching when a saliva slick appendage circled it. "I'd let you. Last time you slapped my ass I wanted it to leave a mark." His breath hitched, willing his body to relax as he accepted one of his fingers, wondering if Blaine's would feel thicker, rougher rubbing against his soft inner walls.
His skin felt too hot, Kurt's little noises the pure sound of sex. "Fuck, nearly there. C-Can you fit another one? Do that for me and tell me how it feels? D-Do you wish it was me?"
Kurt keened, nudging a second finger in alongside his other to thrust into himself. The burn from not enough lube hurt, but it was not to the point where he wanted to stop. He pumped his fingers in and out of himself, matching the rhythm of his strokes along his stiff cock. "Feels so hot, and tight. Too dry, b-but I like it. I can't wait for you to do this to me. Fuck me with your fingers, your tongue, your cock. Wouldn't ca—" The boy let out a strangled yell, the bypassing of his prostate catching him by surprise. "—care…as long as it's you inside me. It'd feel so much better than my fingers, your dick pushing into me, stretching me open while I ride you. Bl-Blaine…" He whined, his orgasm hitting him the next time he grazed his prostate, cum splattering the window and dripping down his hand. Kurt's head lolled forward and pressed against the window, the phone falling to the floor.
Fuck, Finn's going to be mad.
Blaine came in his shorts the next minute, thanks to the mental picture of Kurt bouncing in his lap while he attempted to fuck up into him. He pumped himself through his orgasm, scrunching his nose up when he felt the sticky texture of cum between his fingers. The musician removed the hand from his shorts, wiping the remnants on his yellow boxers. Then after a moment, just shrugged and removed his shorts, using them to wipe his crotch. He threw them behind him, looking over and waiting for Kurt to gather himself. "Well now, that was certainly interesting."
The blue-eyed boy squeezed his dick one last time, ringing the last of his orgasm as he groaned. He wriggled his fingers for a moment, gasping when he felt his fingers leave his body. Kurt barely dipping his head enough to glance at his phone on the floor, huffing when he noticed a few drops of jizz on his screen. Great. It took a bit to bend down and reach his phone, legs sluggish and backside throbbing a pleasant soreness. When he finally snatched it, Kurt honestly sounded a little out of breath. "Sorry, what was that?" Following it with a breathless laugh when he finally caught sight of Blaine, as naked and exposed as himself. Show-off.
He chuckled, "I said that THAT was certainly interesting."
It damn well better have.
A/N: That song was "El Tango de Roxanne" from the Moulin Rouge Soundtrack. Hope I didn't overwhelm you guys this one! Till next time lovelies! Review please? ^-^
Reminder: If you haven't voted on the story poll, check out my profile page and get on that! Please and thank you.