CHAPTER 10

Being woken up with soft kisses by a happy, beaming husband instead of an alarm clock was enough to render any lingering soreness unimportant, and after breakfast in bed and showering together Blaine was pretty sure this was one of the best days he could dream of. Soon, it got even better.

They ran into their first class just before the final bell, winded and giggling, and fell into their chairs, and Blaine winced – too fast, too hard, his body reminded him. Kurt was looking at him with a concerned expression, making sure he was okay, when an incredulous voice came from behind them.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me! Hummel’s a top? No way!”

Karofsky. Standing right there, gaping at them with his mouth open like a fish, and Blaine knew very well what he saw. He’d seen it himself not half an hour ago, when they were standing together in front of the bathroom mirror, hastily preparing to go: the hickeys fresh and clear on his neck, Kurt’s mussed hair that he hadn’t had time to style, their lips kiss-red and puffed, the bite mark on Kurt’s forearm, uncovered in his short-sleeved shirt. Everything about them screamed sex.

And Kurt, wonderful, sexy Kurt, instead of curling in on himself like he usually did when facing Karofsky, just smirked now and said calmly.

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know! Sorry, Dave, this ship has sailed.”

And with a dismissing shrug, he turned to say good morning to their teacher who was just settling at her desk. Blaine had never been more proud of him.

Kurt’s 18th birthday came and went the following week, celebrated with a great party and even greater sex afterwards, and though Blaine half expected police to come and take them away to be questioned about consummation, no one did. Karofsky didn’t come to school on Tuesday and when he returned three days later, it was with a band on his finger, without his piercings and leather jacket and somewhat quieter, more distant. Rumor had it his new husband was older than him and pretty rich, but no one knew much. Blaine didn’t care. He was just happy that they were finally free of the bully.

Two weekends later they were spending Saturday morning in bed, reading, when Kurt nuzzled Blaine’s shoulder with his nose.

“Hey, I’d like to try something.”

“Like what?” Blaine put away his book, intrigued. Kurt opened the book he was reading – Loving Sex – on a bookmarked page, and Blaine grinned, looking at the picture.

“You want me to try bottoming from the top?”

Kurt shook his head.

“No. I want me to try bottoming from the top.”

It took a while until Blaine wrapped his mind around what he’d just heard and became coherent again. Kurt waited patiently. Finally, still not quite believing it could be true, Blaine asked.

“Are you-“

“Yes, I’m sure.” Kurt answered before the question was even out and Blaine breathed deeply. Of course he was; he wouldn’t start this conversation if he wasn’t. So it meant… this would happen. Just…

“When?”

“How about now?” Even though he half-expected this answer, Blaine could feel his heart hammer faster. His cock, half-hard since Kurt showed him the book, reacted enthusiastically.

“You know it’s not the easiest position for the first time though?”

Kurt nodded with a calm smile.

“I know. We’ve used the same sources, remember? But I’m still afraid of the pain; I want this, but I need to have control over the speed with which I take you in.” Blaine groaned as his imagination did a little flip. “You’ll just have to prepare me really, really well.”

Okay, little flip didn’t cover it anymore; it was a real flood of images, hopes, anticipation. He drew a shuddering breath.

“Okay.”

And with that, they were rolling and falling into each other in the way that was already so perfectly familiar and so welcome every single time, with hands sliding and caressing over planes and muscles and arches; with lips following invisible paths of pleasure to the accompaniment of sharp inhalations, quiet moans and words of love and adoration.

Except this time they didn’t end up shuddering against each other with hips grinding and stuttering, or with hands stroking in a matching rhythm, guiding each other to completion. Neither did one of them found his way with worshipping lips to the other’s cock, teasing and fighting his own limitations while trying to find the perfect suction and depth, with a hand stroking and tongue dancing and swirling. Blaine didn’t strip himself open and vulnerable this time, leaving behind any shame and self-consciousness and waiting for his husband to take him, fill him, make them one.

No. This time was all about awe and delight as he lay between Kurt’s legs, parted and drawn up, and took his time laving the skin on his balls and the soft light hair there with his tongue, diving low, even lower, his heart stuttering at his daring as he passed the bit of soft skin behind and went further. The tip of his tongue was the first to meet the puckered entrance and Blaine moaned, the softness of delicate skin, the taste, the scent of aloe and deep underneath, just Kurt, playing on his senses, making him even harder, wanting.

Kurt was writhing and begging already, sensitive as always, and it never stopped amazing Blaine how vocal his husband was, how breathtakingly responsive. And then, with a final flick of his tongue and a kiss, he pulled away and there it was, the perfect pink asterisk of Kurt’s asshole, all for Blaine to see, so close, slick and shiny, tempting him to touch and tease.

So touch and tease he did, with a quick detour to cover his fingers with lube; smoothing and stroking, over and around and again until Kurt groaned and basically pushed himself on Blaine’s index finger, his soft cry all pleasure, not discomfort. It felt tight, so incredibly tight and hot and velvety smooth inside, and Blaine had to bite his lip to distract himself from imagining just how perfect it would feel around his cock if merely sliding his finger in and out of Kurt’s ass made him ready to come on the spot.

Another finger went in soon after and Blaine was able to focus on two things only – breathing and his fingers, stroking, stretching, exploring until Kurt’s reaction let him know that he found what he’d been searching for. Satisfied, he crooked his fingers again, and once more, and then it was unexpectedly over when Kurt came, arching off the bed, his lips open in a silent cry and his cock untouched, and Blaine couldn’t help himself. The clenching feeling over his fingers, still deep in his husband’s beautiful pink hole, was more than enough to push him over the edge with the barest touch of his hand.

They came down panting and wide-eyed, and Blaine eased his fingers out and went to bring a warm washcloth to clean them up, unsure and hoping it wouldn’t be the end of their plans. Kurt actually laughed when he asked.

“Oh, no – we’re going on. And believe me, you will be actually glad you just came. That way we have a chance for it to last any reasonable amount of time – as it should, because I intend to thoroughly test if I’m a fan.”

Being healthy, hormonal 18-year-olds turned out to be a blessing, because after mere minutes of kisses and touches they were both more than ready to continue and soon there were fingers sliding in again, muscles stretching and yielding and relaxing, more moans and pleads, and finally Kurt decided he couldn’t wait any longer. Blaine’s heart pounded hard and fast. This was it.

They switched positions. There was one more moment of tense anticipation when Blaine rolled the condom on his cock and slathered it liberally with lube, and then Kurt straddled his hips, aligning himself properly with his husband’s help. His breath was coming fast and shallow and beyond the feverish glint of arousal, there was fear visible in his greenish eyes and trembling fingers. Blaine reached his free hand to grab Kurt’s.

“Hey, we can stop any time you want to.” Kurt shook his head immediately. “I’ve got you, okay? Look at me, keep looking. It’s going to be fine.”

With a final deep breath, Kurt lowered himself gingerly. Ever so slowly, his eyes never leaving Blaine’s, his hand squeezing hard, he sunk over an inch or so before he tensed visibly and Blaine soothed.

“Breathe, love. Relax, it will pass, I promise.” Kurt nodded stiffly; after a moment of slow, deep breathing, he started moving his hips again – swaying them minutely, circling, sliding up and down, just millimeters at a time, and Blaine really was glad that he’d come just moments ago. The tight pressure was unbelievable, the beauty of his husband above him breathtaking.

It took a while, but then he was all the way in and Kurt was straddling his hips properly, ramrod-straight and shocked, breathing fast. Something wasn’t right though, Blaine was certain of it as he saw tears glimmer in his husband’s eyes, and he gripped his hand tighter.

“Kurt, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Do you want to stop?”

Kurt laughed through tears, the sound choked up and wet.

“No, it’s good, it’s perfect, just… I need you closer, so much closer, need to kiss you right now and I hadn’t thought about it before – how can I do this like this?” 

Blaine breathed with relief, the adrenaline surge fueling inspiration. He sat up slowly.

“Put your legs around me.”

Kurt did as he was told and Blaine crossed his own; some adjustments here and there and a moment later he had Kurt in his lap as they were sitting chest to chest, arms around each other and lips kissing slowly, cherishing the moment. The first orgasms had left them mostly sated and now there was no rush anymore, no hurrying or quick thrusts or impatient fingers. It was just this moment and all the time in the world, it was the present and the future waiting for them, it was here and now, and them – Kurt and Blaine.

Kissing and touching with gentle fingers. Rocking slowly into each other. Sighs and breaths and tender words between them. Love and desire, delight and infinite trust. They had each other, and love, and forever. It was all they could dream of.

THE END