3. TEACH ME

Blaine wakes up in the middle of the night, breathless and sweaty. He might have been busy reorganizing his life all day, but apparently his subconscious has been hard at work too, preparing a very detailed, very convincing erotic dream to tease him with at night. Actually, forget erotic; it was pure porn. And just for the record, Kurt as a porn star… breathtaking. Blaine recalls the images, his hand automatically wandering to his cock, hard and leaking, intent on just finishing what the dream started. But fuck, he doesn’t have any tissues on hand, he sleeps just in his boxers, and he’s pretty sure leaving come stains on someone else’s bedding is pretty inappropriate. Unless that someone else is involved in leaving them, of course.

This train of thought turns out to be dangerous, because once his mind recalls the presence of someone else nearby, someone who happens to be an incredibly hot gay man, who maybe, just maybe could be convinced to engage in some come-staining of the bedding, there’s no turning back. Before Blaine can even make a conscious decision about it, he’s up and on his way to the half-open door of the tiny bedroom.

Kurt stirs when Blaine whispers, “Kurt?”

“Mmm?”

“Kurt, are you asleep?”

The form under the duvet turns and a messy-haired head comes up.

“Not anymore. Did something happen?”

“Um, not really. I just have a problem.”

Kurt sits up and eyes Blaine more consciously in the moonlight streaming in through the window, then snorts.

“Is that your problem? Should I tell you where the tissues are? Or a way to the shower if you prefer?”

“No, I thought…”

“You did? Well, thinking happens sometimes, don’t worry. It will pass. Now, can I go back to sleep? I can even put earplugs in to grant you privacy.”

“Come on, Kurt, don’t be like that.”

Annoyance is clear in Kurt’s voice when he answers.

“Like what, Blaine? You wake me up at, wait… 2:30 a.m., practically naked and looking the way you do; what do you want me to do? I can either try to erase this picture from my head and get back to sleep or forget about being a decent friend and jump you. And I rather like being friends with you.”

“Actually, I kind of hoped you would… okay, not necessarily jump me per se, but… something.”

“Blaine, we’re kind of blurring our boundaries here.”

“I don’t mind. Can we just… just be? For a while? Without thinking or analyzing the consequences?”

“And then what?” Kurt snaps. “Forget about it and go back to being friends? Say goodbye and avoid each other awkwardly? Or maybe not even say goodbye, but never see each other again? Huh?”

“I don’t know, Kurt. Right now, I know nothing about what will happen later. Nothing. But now? Now this is what I want.”

“You want, right.” Kurt’s voice sounds bitter, but the details of his face are hidden in the shadows, so Blaine can’t see his expression. He hesitates.

“You don’t?”

“Oh, I do. I want. It’s just… more complicated than that in real life, Blaine.”

Blaine feels ashamed. He knows it is. He just wanted to forget about everything else for a while. The more awake he is now, the worse the idea seems though.

“Okay. Sorry. I’ll just go back to the couch.”

There’s a sigh from the bed.

“No, don’t. I’m a weak, weak man. Come here. Let’s take care of your… problem.”

Blaine doesn’t need to be told twice. He scrambles on the bed, fast, kneeling next to Kurt, who reaches to him at once, smoothing warm hands up his chest, teasing a nipple with a thumb, and Blaine gasps.

“Lie down.” Kurt’s voice is lower, rougher than usual.

He does, and momentarily there are lips and tongue and oh my god teeth on his neck, kissing along his jaw, licking his throat with a hungry growl, sucking at a pulse point, biting, hard, where neck meets the shoulder, and if he thought he was aroused when he woke up, it is nothing compared to now. He whimpers and gasps and arches on the bed, and when Kurt starts sucking on his nipple, biting lightly, while teasing the other one between his fingers, Blaine loses any and all inhibitions and shame he had left.

“Please Kurt, please, just touch me...”

“Begging already? It’s a little early for that. You think it will be enough if I touch you? Like this?”

There’s something wrong with his friends voice, it’s a bit like a stranger’s, a bit distant, and Blaine might reflect on it if Kurt’s fingers didn’t choose this moment to slide, feather-light, over his still covered balls and up the length of his cock. His hips buck up, searching for the touch, but the hand is gone already. Kurt’s voice comes back, closer, whispering hotly right in Blaine’s ear, sending shivers down his spine.

“So eager. So beautiful. Tell me what you want, Blaine. Tell me exactly what you want me to do.”

Then Kurt is sucking on Blaine’s ear while his hand slides slowly up the inside of his thigh, and it’s an effort to speak, but Blaine does, voice breathy and high.

“I want you to touch me. To jerk me off and make me come.”

“Oh, I can do better than that. But first, you touch me. This is a two-sided game, you know.”

Blaine’s eyes snap open, locking on Kurt’s face hovering over his, and yes, he’s eager, so so eager to do this, to touch him again. He had just a moment to look, to feel and explore, last night, and he wants it so much now, he almost forgets about his own arousal. Almost.

Fervently, he reaches to pull down Kurt’s pajama pants and is surprised to touch warm skin of his hips instead.

“I sleep naked. I just wore the pants yesterday to open the door. Is that a problem?”

Hell, of course it’s not a problem, it’s just that the thought of Kurt, glorious and naked, asleep, momentarily takes Blaine’s breath away. But he hurries to cover his moment of weakness, moving his slightly trembling fingers from the other man’s hip down, through soft hair, to the hot hardness of his cock. He slides his hand up, sweeping his thumb over the head, gathering the pre-come leaking generously, and then starts stroking, slow at first, watching Kurt’s face, looking for the perfect rhythm. Kurt’s still hovering over him, but soon his arms shake too much to support him, and he moves to straddle Blaine’s thighs instead. A kaleidoscope of expressions plays on Kurt’s face as Blaine strokes him, his muscles tremble and tense, his voice travels from gasps to moans, from keening to sighs and back again.

Blaine is awed and amazed. He doesn’t know where to look; Kurt’s angelic face, his gorgeous body, lean and toned, his cock in Blaine’s own hand, thick and perfect, gleaming with a sheen of pre-come – he wants to take it all in, save the pictures in his head. The realization that he’s done this to Kurt, that his own hands have turned this man into a trembling, moaning mess, goes right to Blaine’s cock and he needs, needs so bad right now. Taking his left hand from where it was playing with Kurt’s balls, he pulls the elastic of his boxers down and strokes himself quickly once, twice, gasping at the relief. Kurt watches it with wide eyes, mouth open, and then shudders and arches over him, shooting long pearly strands of come all over Blaine’s stomach and chest with a high keening sound, broken roughly.

Blaine didn’t expect to feel as proud and awed as he does, seeing Kurt fall apart under his fingers. It’s like his friend has trusted him with his body, with a task to make him feel good, and he’s succeeded, and it’s awesome. He’s never pleased anyone other than himself before and never really thought about what it means, but now, seeing how vulnerable Kurt is in his hands at this moment, he suddenly understands how crucial trust is in sex. Having sex means trusting the other person with your body, knowing that this can change you, hurt you, not just physically, but in other ways as well. Blaine has no problem whatsoever trusting Kurt, even after they haven’t seen each other for three years, but it’s hard to imagine going to a club or a party and having sex with a stranger – any form of sex, even just a handjob. This is so intimate, so precious, it should matter so much more than just a fleeting moment of pleasure.

Blaine is shaken out of his musings by a slide of fingertips down his chest. Kurt is looking at him with a small smile as he traces patterns all over his stomach and chest, his fingers slick with his own come. This probably shouldn’t be hot, should it? But it is, so hot that Blaine suddenly has trouble breathing as he watches Kurt with wide eyes. He feels… marked. Chosen. Owned. And he has no idea why he loves it. A thought about going out like this, aware of Kurt’s come sticking to his skin under the clothes, invisible to everyone else, but there, runs through his mind and makes him groan.

Kurt smirks and bends to lick one come-covered nipple, and Blaine can’t drag his eyes away from his seductive, sultry look. Oh god, if this gets any hotter, he’ll explode right then and there. But then it does get hotter. So much hotter as Kurt slides off him, removes his boxers, parts his legs and settles between them before finally, without teasing this time, leaning in and… Blaine almost arches off the bed with a loud moan when Kurt’s tongue swirls hotly around the head of his cock. A second later all he can focus on is hotwettightohmygoddfgtrsfgh. Yes, he’s very articulate, but who could blame him, because Kurt’s fucking mouth, his tongue, his fingers, doing some magical stuff, it’s all just…

It’s just too much and Blaine loses himself in the sensations, feeling light, weightless, carried by waves of pleasure higher, faster, until he crashes, shatters into hundreds of droplets of pure bliss.

When he opens his eyes in the darkness, he meets Kurt’s mischievous smile.

“Hi! So, I gather you haven’t done this before?” Blaine can only stare at him, eyes heavy and brain not working. Kurt laughs. “Okay. I guess you won’t be able to get to the couch, which means you’re sleeping here again.”

Blaine’s eyes are already closing. With a monumental effort and the last remaining sliver of consciousness he manages to find Kurt’s hand and squeeze it, and then he’s out.

In the morning Blaine wakes up in an empty bed again, alone in the apartment. There’s a note in the kitchen, saying that Kurt will be back late in the evening and out again early tomorrow, so he should feel at home and feed himself. Fortunately, there’s an extensive DVD library by the TV, so he isn’t left to his own thoughts.

On Tuesday night, when Blaine wakes up again, he doesn’t ask. He creeps into the bedroom and on the bed, and spends inappropriate amount of time watching his sleeping friend and feeling like a stalker. Kurt’s just so… vulnerable when he sleeps. His face is soft and innocent, unguarded, like it rarely is otherwise. And he’s beautiful; manly, yet with an angelic, elfin, ethereal air. The duvet is kicked low, revealing his smooth chest and toned stomach, down to the hipbones, and Blaine can’t stop himself any longer.

He leans over Kurt and lets his lips guide him. He kisses the slightly sweaty neck, tastes the saltiness with his tongue, inhales the smell, the heady mixture of cosmetics and man. He explores; collarbones, chest, the nipples pebbling under his caresses, his hands smoothing over satiny skin everywhere he can reach. Kurt’s awake, he startled immediately after Blaine’s first touch, but then he melted into it, not opening his eyes, not asking questions, just taking and reacting in a most beautiful, unrestricted way. He doesn’t protest when Blaine  uncovers him completely, doesn’t say anything to the first testing licks and slides of Blaine’s mouth. His moans, whimpers and gasps are the perfect feedback and soon Blaine feels more confident experimenting, learning, offering what he has.

And he loves it; the taste, the smell, the feel of cock on his tongue, its thickness making his jaw ache – it’s perfect. Well, he is not perfect yet, he needs practice, because for now he’s much too aware of all the teeth he has and he can only take in about half of Kurt’s length, while he’s pretty sure Kurt swallowed him whole last night. But he’ll get there one day. He intends to keep on practicing. Now he just enjoys the new sensations and Kurt’s reactions, more frantic and vocal by the minute. But when Kurt chokes out “Close, so close”, Blaine’s unprepared. He hasn’t thought about this, what should he do? Let go? Swallow? He hesitates too long and streams of warm come land on his tongue, spilling out of his mouth, so he tastes and swallows some and it’s okay, he has no problem with it, so he licks Kurt clean until impatient hands swat him away.

He lies down, still trying to lick the last smear of stickiness off his chin, when there’s melodious laughter and a wet tongue helps him with that before diving down, down, and even further down. This time he’s prepared for the onslaught of pleasure, or so he thinks until a slippery finger – when did Kurt manage to apply lube? – sneaks into his hole and goes right for the kill, quickly finding the proper spot and proceeding to drive him mad.

They don’t talk after that. They hardly speak at all the next day; Kurt is gone in the morning again, only to come back exhausted late that evening. And he doesn’t even seem surprised when Blaine simply follows him to the bedroom and settles on the bed. He just calmly removes his bathrobe and lies down. Blaine waits a moment before following suit, a foot away.

“Kurt? I have a question.”

“Mm?” Kurt’s eyes are already closed, his voice tired. Blaine blushes.

“If I liked being the one that… um…”

“… bottomed?” Kurt opens his eyes and turns to face Blaine, apparently interested in the conversation after all.

“Yeah, that time, does it mean that’s what I should always do?” It feels awkward, talking about it like this, but Blaine really wants to know. Kurt doesn’t find it weird, it seems, and answers calmly.

“Not necessarily. You should try and learn if you like both or if you prefer to chose just one side. Unless you don’t even want to try, of course. There are no set rules here, really. You do what you feel comfortable doing, what feels good. And what you and your partner decide together, of course.”

“Oh.”

There’s a minute of silence in the darkness before Kurt sighs.

“Okay, just say it.”

Blaine feels himself blush. It’s somehow so much more than before and suddenly he realizes what Kurt meant by his objections that first night. It’s one thing to let someone in, to offer himself. It’s something else entirely to ask for permission to stick your cock up their ass. It seems like such an invasion. He starts to panic a little – what is he doing? He’s never done this, never even read about it, he could screw it up, hurt his friend. No, it’s a bad idea.

Kurt seems to read his thoughts, like he used to do so often in college, and laughs.

“Come on, Blaine. If you want to try topping, just say it. I’ve bottomed before. I like it. I’ll tell you what to do. You won’t hurt me.”

Blaine feels his jaw drop. “How do you know what I was thinking?”

Kurt touches his chest under the duvet. “Because that’s what I thought before my first time. So. Do you want to?”

“Do you?”

Kurt takes his hand and pulls him closer, until they’re flush against each other, chest to chest, hips to hips, and yeah, there’s his answer. Blaine reaches to tangle his fingers in Kurt’s hair, pull him in into a kiss, but his friend withdraws, sliding down to suck at his neck instead, and then rolls them over so that Blaine’s over him.

“Take the lube and condoms out of that drawer.”

He does. Kurt guides him through the process of preparation then, his words more and more jumbled, especially from the moment Blaine finds his prostate, and finally he sits up and reaches for a condom, sliding it on Blaine’s cock in one practiced motion.

“You’ll have to learn this on your own later if you haven’t yet. I want you in me, now.”

Kurt pushes him onto his back and moves to straddle him, and a moment later Blaine has to bite his lip, trying not to embarrass himself. Because the tightness, the heat enveloping him so perfectly as Kurt lowers himself slowly on his cock makes him crazy. And he’s grateful Kurt chose this position, because the only thing he has to worry about, apart from not coming, is making sure he’s not reaching to pull him down, without worrying he could hurt his lover with an awkward movement or going too fast.

Once he’s fully in, they stay like this for a while – no movement apart from their quick breaths, reveling in the feeling. And then Kurt starts to rock his hips, slow, then faster, until he rides Blaine in earnest. It doesn’t take long, it can’t, not with such a shocking tightness and the hotness of flushed, sweaty Kurt, with his hair mussed and his hips rolling and gyrating, vocalizing Blaine’s name while pulsing around him and marking his chest with his come, again.

“So, did you like it?” There’s sleep in Kurt’s voice later, after they’ve cleaned themselves up and lain in the bed again.

“I did.” There’s something in Blaine’s throat, something that makes it hard to speak, something nibbling at his brain too, but he’s too tired to think. He just knows that there’s sadness in the air like a mist.

“Good.”

There’s silence then. Once Kurt’s asleep, Blaine turns his back, to lie on his other side. Suddenly he feels a movement and then a warm body presses to him from behind, spooning and embracing. He settles back into the embrace, and it’s like a quilt of good and safe tucked around him. The nibbling feeling gets clearer, almost to the surface now, but Blaine falls asleep mid-thought before he can realize what it is.