Chapter Nine

Kurt just smirks at him with a raised eyebrow and color in his cheeks.

One hand splayed across Kurt’s waist, Blaine pushes him back. Then he crouches at Kurt’s feet and slides his hand off Kurt’s cock, placing one quick kiss and a scratch of his teeth to Kurt’s hip on the way. He unlaces Kurt’s shoes and helps him toe them off, relishing the weight of Kurt leaning on his shoulders for balance. Shoes off, he slips Kurt’s briefs down his legs and helps him step out of the material pooled at his feet. He tugs one sock off at a time.

He’s back on his feet, kissing Kurt and feeling him sway, oh so naked, against him. It’s all too easy, with Kurt’s arms looped behind his neck and his own hands on Kurt’s hips, to walk him back. As they move further, they stop kissing on the mouth and begin kissing at each other’s skin whenever it’s close enough. In this manner, Blaine’s eyes can flicker around the room, watching where they’re going.

“Bed?” Kurt asks, his eyes still closed and sounding hopeful.

“Nope,” Blaine says, and then his hands tighten on Kurt’s hips, fingers digging in as he lifts him, making him gasp and squeal and then dissolve into giggles as Blaine pushes his naked ass back across then smooth wood of the table they just ate at.

“Blaine, whatr12;“

Blaine cuts him off with another kiss, hungry and desperate again at just the idea of what he might be allowed to do. His hands find Kurt’s thighs and spread them, stepping between and pressing his half-hard cock up against Kurt’s entirely hard one and feeling Kurt arch and mewl into his mouth.

He kisses him until they’re both breathless and Kurt’s hips are rocking against his recklessly, and then Blaine pushes him back and watches his eyes flutter open. “Lay back,” he says, his hand smoothing down Kurt’s chest to his stomach, pushing lightly.

Kurt hesitates just a moment. He wonders what Blaine will do and how he’ll do it and whether he himself should just take control and demand. But he waits, back against the cold wood, exposed, his sweat-slick skin cooling.

He has to bite his lip to stop from saying anything when Blaine’s hands on his thighs grip tighter, pull him wider. Because Blaine is looking at him with dark eyes and a small smile, gaze moving up and over him as his thumbs inch higher into the creases where Kurt’s legs meet his torso.

“Up,” Blaine tells him, leaving little room for argument when he slides his hands under Kurt’s legs and pushes them up and then further, pulling Kurt back down the table so his ass is balanced on the edge, then pushing his legs back and over him, folding him in half and not hesitating for a moment to let Kurt think about it.

Not until Kurt’s legs are wide and high and Blaine is holding them there while he stares down at where Kurt’s cock is red and dribbling precome across his abdomen, his ass is completely on display.

It’s terrifyingly intimate, but Kurt just keeps biting his lip and refusing to look away from everything he can see painted across Blaine’s face.

Hooking one of Kurt’s ankles over his shoulder, Blaine stares up at him and somehow Kurt thinks his eyes shade even darker, his grin growing even more wolfish, and he doesn’t remember him ever being quite like this.

Kurt swallows.

Running a teasing finger from Kurt’s balls down, Blaine touches over his hole in a barely-there caress, and then down to the table. He traces back up, circles, and then draws swirls across the skin on one side of Kurt’s ass. His voice is low, the question almost rhetorical, because Blaine can see every shiver, every clench of muscle. “Are you still as sensitive as you used to be?”

They never once talked about it, how Kurt got off so much faster and harder and more desperately when Blaine brushed his fingers back and fingered him, or about how Blaine had to be quick when stretching him open and fuck him rough if they both wanted to come. But Blaine knew, and Kurt knew Blaine knew, and now Blaine was saying it with a devilish grin and the biggest tease in his eyes. Kurt wants to tease back, say something sassy and challenging, but he can feel the dull, dry pressure of a finger against him, and his cock aches from being hard so long and when he opens his mouth he can only whimper and keep watching.

Blaine leans forward, wedging himself between Kurt’s legs and bending down to lick a strip up the underside of Kurt’s cock, wet, rough friction that makes Kurt’s head spin and his eyes slam shut. He doesn’t even care that he isn’t going to last at all because it’s Blaine, and Blaine is damned lucky Kurt didn’t get himself off when Blaine came on his tongue.

He doesn’t get his eyes open before Blaine’s tongue soothes back down. Then his mouth closes over one of Kurt’s balls and sucks, then the other and Kurt’s head is pressed back into the wood and turned to the side.

Blaine’s mouth reaches the inside of Kurt’s thigh, sucking, biting, kissing, and Kurt takes a breath.

“How do you feel about rimming?” It’s mumbled into the soft skin at the crease of his leg, but what Kurt hears is unmistakable and he whimpers to think it, eyes squeezing shut again as his hand trips down his body to squeeze at the base of his cock.

He waits and waits and when Blaine just keeps breathing hot against his leg, Kurt forces himself to look.

When Blaine catches his eye, the wolfish quality is gone and he looks young and shy, which is ridiculous because he’s got his mouth so close to being there and they are naked and Kurt is on his back.

“I’m asking because we neverr12;“

Kurt knows. Kurt was never brave enough to ask and Blaine was never forward enough to assume. They never, ever once did that, and Kurt’s had dreams about it for years and years.

“Yes,” he breathes out, watching Blaine’s eyes go wide and his lips quirk up. “Oh my god, yes.”

And Blaine falls into him so damn fast that Kurt can barely keep up. Blaine’s mouth on him, behind his balls, hot and wet and kissing. There’s no build up of kitten licks and teases, not when Kurt is so close and showing it with little whimpers and the constant arch of his back. Blaine just goes for it like it is the only thing he wants in the world.

Tongue strong and pressing, just like it has always been when he kisses Kurt full on the mouth and it’s leading to somewhere. Except now, it’s against his ass, where he’s spread open and rocking into it, and he should feel ashamed at how quickly he’s got one hand pulling a leg wider and the other buried in Blaine’s hair, at how hopelessly desperately he’s calling Blaine’s name and begging him, “Please don’t stop.”

But it feels too perfect to care.

Blaine kisses and licks and slowly works him open, his hands busy helping hold his thighs apart and absentmindedly stroking Kurt’s cock. He licks and sucks until the muscle starts to give way and there’s spit dripping down Kurt’s crack to the table and Blaine’s nose is slick with it as well.

When Kurt whines, high pitched and desperate, back bowed as he bears down against Blaine’s mouth, Blaine laughs and squeezes his thigh, then kisses higher, away to lick across Kurt’s balls, teasing now, just for a moment, just to drag it out an extra few seconds. He looks up at Kurt, past his dick, and he can’t see his face but he can see the sweat across his red-mottled chest and his tight nipples and the way he’s twisting with it.

Sucking another faint mark into the pale skin of Kurt’s ass, Blaine can’t help but say, “God I love your ass,” and Kurt chokes on a laugh.

“Please,” Kurt begs, rocking his hips.

Blaine slides a finger in easily, blunt pressure and Kurt shuddering as the muscle gives way. “So tight,” Blaine breathes but Kurt doesn’t hear it, moaning and riding the two inches of finger he’s been given and this is exactly how Blaine remembers him.

But his tongue is better and he knows that, he’s had so much practice and say what you like, Blaine is sure it was all leading to this. He slips his finger out and doesn’t bother with a second, just slides his tongue back around, tracing a wet circle and then sucking over Kurt’s hole before fucking into him, licking at him from the inside out as Kurt’s hips stutter against him, torn between trying to ride his mouth and trying to stay still.

Blaine finds a rhythm quickly, easily, losing himself in the reality of what he is doing. Here, now, with Kurt. Kurt, who is coming undone in a catastrophic way against his mouth, and Blaine can’t help but think that if he does this well enough (and by god is he going to) Kurt will let him do it again. Blaine presses his mouth closer, trying to tongue-fuck deeper while his lips keeps kissing him harshly and Kurt pulls Blaine closer still with a hand in his hair.

“Jesus, Blaine,” Kurt pants. Blaine would smirk, except this mouth is far too busy. “Blaine, I can’tr12;“

Blaine’s hand is up and around Kurt’s cock in an instant, fingers wrapping blindly and attempting to find some rhythm of stroke that matches the hard, deep kisses of his mouth. He fails monumentally, but it doesn’t matter because it is seconds before Kurt’s wrapping his hand even tighter in Blaine’s hair, a foot pressing into the center of Blaine’s back, and his whole body holds Blaine tight against him as his hips fuck up once, hard, into the tightness of Blaine’s hand and then down against Blaine’s tongue, riding Blaine’s mouth with the roll of his hips.

Kurt calls his name, breathless and panting, and he doesn’t make another sound as Blaine keeps working his tongue and kissing, sucking, feeling Kurt’s body pulse and come, his back bowing and his perfect pale skin sweaty and then painted with streak after streak of white. He licks Kurt’s ass through it, softening his kisses to small and chaste and then kitten licks as Kurt’s body drops back to the wood and his leg slips from Blaine’s shoulder.

Blaine nuzzles there, sucking in a breath of Kurt and sweat and sex, just behind his balls, just for a moment. Then he stands, body slipping up through where Kurt’s thighs are still spread, but limp, resting pale except for the red marks where fingertips pressed moments before. Blaine runs the back of his hand over his mouth and takes the opportunity to hide a grin.

He’s halfway bent over Kurt, intent on kissing him hard and deep and making sure neither one of them ever, ever forgets this when he remembers that despite having Kurt laid out and exposed and coming around his tongue, they’ve never come close to doing any of this together. Not for so very, very long. And he hesitates, staring at Kurt with bright brown eyes and a creased brow.

So, Kurt is the one to haul him in by the back of the neck and meet him half way, kissing him hard enough to make both their mouths ache and their heads spin. He drops back to the table too soon, his stomach muscles threatening to give out and the come from his belly and chest smeared across Blaine’s. Still panting, he just lies there, staring and slowly starting to smile.     

“You okay?” Blaine asks, voice still a little rough, his bare toes curling against the floorboards.

Kurt arches an eyebrow, licks his lips, and has the audacity to stretch out, naked and sated. “Yeah,” he mumbles, voice so much worse than Blaine’s and they both know why. “Yeah, just give me a minute.”

Blaine nods and rocks on his feet, about to move away but Kurt’s hand grabs hard at his and pulls him back between his legs. “Thank you,” he whispers as one of Blaine’s hands comes up to rest flat on the side of his chest, ignoring the cooling smears of come.

He tweaks over a nipple just to watch Kurt arch.

“I’m gonna get a washcloth and then we’re gonna have more cheesecake, okay?” Blaine tells him, squeezing his hand and then finally drawing away.

~~*~~

When he comes back, Kurt is sitting on the edge of the table, blinking slowly and with his jeans pulled on up to his knees. His cock is soft and resting against his thigh, and his body is still slick. He’s smiling, though, and watching Blaine carefully through sleepy eyes.

Blaine throws the cloth across the room, having already taken care of his own mess, and busies himself pulling the cheesecake back out of the fridge. By the time he’s cut a third generous slice and covered the plate in sauce, Kurt’s slipping off the table and pulling his jeans up over his hips. Blaine slides his own underwear up his legs and beckons Kurt over.

It’s too easy to slip into stealing glances at each other, suddenly feeling shy and a little unsure. They don’t speak, but Blaine presses the spoon to Kurt’s lips and watches him suck the dessert off and lick his lips.

At some point Kurt finds the wine glasses and refills them.

Not long after, Blaine gives in to the pull of Kurt’s eyes and leans across the kitchen counter to kiss him through a mouthful of raspberry sauce and white wine.

“Don’t stop,” Blaine whispers when he pulls back.

Kurt mutters, “Never,” without really thinking.

Blaine’s giggling into the kiss, then snorting as he tries to focus, then pushing Kurt back and waiting for him to laugh too, laughing harder when Kurt does.

“Do you think we’ve had too much wine?” Kurt asks.

“I think we’ve had too much sex,” Blaine mumbles and kisses Kurt again, sliding a raspberry flavoured finger across his lips as he pulls back.

“Not yet,” Kurt tells him and smiles.

“Not ever,” Blaine replies, and it would be another prompt for giggling like love-drunk idiots, except Blaine leans in and captures Kurt’s mouth first. “God, you’re amazing,” he mumbles when he pulls back to press kisses down Kurt’s neck while Kurt steals another spoonful of cheesecake. “Seriously, Kurt, when did you get this amazing?”

Kurt laughs lightly and teases, “You mean I wasn’t before?”

Teeth nipping at the corner of his jaw, Blaine takes a mouthful of wine and then sets his mouth back against Kurt’s skin. “I always thought you were amazing.” It takes another half dozen kisses and another mouthful of wine to make him brave enough to utter, “I hate that it’s taken me ten years to find you again.”

“I hate London,” Kurt says absently.

But Blaine shushes him and sucks across a collarbone. “London’s amazing. Hate our lack of reliable teleportation methods.”

And that sets Kurt off giggling again.

They talk in circles until the wine is gone and the cheesecake is just an excuse to lick raspberry sauce off each other’s lips. They kiss and kiss until they’re dizzy with it and the night outside is as quiet as ever in New York.

Finally, Kurt pulls back and fixes Blaine with a bright blue stare and tilts his head. “I want to make you come again,” he says simply. And then, “Can you fuck me?”