Sugar Baby

Four

Kurt awoke first, with night still cloaking the town and the flashing green numbers on the digital clock placed squarely on the bedside table announcing that it was three o’clock in the morning. He sat up, wincing at the twinge in his shoulders and back, both from sleeping on the hard floor with little more than Blaine’s body as a mattress or blanket and from the vicious battering it had taken, rubbed raw against the wall, and looked down at Blaine’s slumbering body, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Being able to do this, to sleep naked next to another man, with a guarantee that he wouldn’t leave before morning, was so new, shining and beautiful and standing out with memories of his first eight years with his parents in Kurt’s mind. Normally, his life was a drab grey, of school and bullying and the lines of ink blurred by tears carved into pages of schoolwork in narrow cursive. But now, having found the man beneath whirling lights, his life seemed in glorious technicolour, like Dorothy stepping into Oz, but with the added bonuses of nudity and mind-blowing orgasms given by a gorgeous heartthrob who had been the subject of his secret affections for three years.

He looked down at Blaine, the smile playing around his lips widening and softening as he watched Blaine sleeping, chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm with his breathing, looking younger, happier, more peaceful as he slept, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks with something he was dreaming of, the slight lines around his eyes softened so they were almost invisible against the olive skin, his fingers stroking gently where they were still against Kurt’s hip.

When Kurt carefully stood up to extract himself a shirt from the drawers, remembering with a delicate shiver how delicious the silky, expensive material had felt against his bare skin, the musky smell that he found in Blaine’s skin, mingled with slight sweet hints of something fruity, the way Blaine’s eyes had widened and rapidly darkened when he’d seen Kurt in his clothes, narrow waist accentuated by the slim tie he’d tied as an artful fashion statement at the last moment, Blaine stirred and mumbled something before blinking himself awake, stretching out and attracting Kurt’s attention to the muscles of his chest and abdomen, trying to hide the way he licked his lip, seeing the skin stretched over hard muscle. “I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he cooed softly. “It’s still so early, go back to sleep. I was just getting myself a shirt so I don’t feel so exposed.”

“You should never feel too exposed, baby, you’re so beautiful,” Blaine whispered, and before Kurt knew it he was behind him with barely a whisper of his feet against the floor, his cock pressed against the cleft of Kurt’s ass, half-hard, and his hands caressing Kurt’s thighs, higher and higher, one finger brushing between to tap against his clit, Kurt swaying on suddenly weak knees and bracing himself on the dresser. “But, if you’re that determined to hide this perfect body behind some fabric, I bought a little something for you. Top right drawer, wrapped in the blue tissue paper.” His lips brushed over Kurt’s ear as he breathed, “I thought I should start living up to my official title as your sugar daddy.”

Kurt smiled dazzlingly and turned in Blaine’s arms to kiss him, leaning back and bracing his elbows against the dresser as Blaine pushed into the kiss, bending him backwards so he was helpless beneath his weight, trapped and squirming beneath the hard lines and muscles of his body, with his cock rubbing hotly over his thigh, and he loved it more than anything else. “Thank you,” he whispered with a happy wiggle of his hips as he extracted the parcel from the drawer and almost skipped to the bathroom to dress himself in the gifts.

Clutching the parcel of tissue paper to his chest, feeling the weight of the new clothes pressed against him, Kurt imagined silk slip-sliding over skin, expensive fabrics that felt almost as good as Blaine’s caresses against his body, snug against the curves of his chest and waist and hips and thighs, making him look as good as he had always wanted to, because no doubt Blaine’s taste was flawless, and he knew Kurt’s body so well he could only have picked things to make him feel as sexy and beautiful as Blaine saw him.

When he saw what waited for him, he blushed wildly, his initial reaction wanting to stuff the clothes back into the bag and never wear them. But, slowly, Blaine’s smoky tone crept over him, whispering in his ear that he was beautiful, that he would look amazing, and he pulled the outfit on, looking at himself in the mirror, shivers running down his spine at the luxurious feel of the expensive materials over his skin.

He looked like a different person. Despite having no product in it, his hair was perfectly tousled from Blaine’s fingers curling through it and tugging; his eyes underlined with purple bruises, very big and very bright, shining a stunning dark blue; his skin was pale, marred over his neck, collarbones, chest, hips, thighs with bruises in the perfect shape of Blaine’s mouth, bringing back shudderingly hot memories of Blaine’s mouth on him, sucking and biting and nibbling bruises into wanting flesh. He looked incredible, mysterious and sexy and so much older, the sheer silk shirt falling over his torso, shifting like liquid shadows when he gave his hips an experimental sway, the tiny shorts clinging to his thighs and ass. He felt older, in clothes that must have been so expensive, risky clothes, things to be worn only in the bedroom, clothes he’d only ever seen on mannequins before, or worn by celebrities in magazines for those spreads where every question was on their sex life.

He smirked wickedly at himself in the mirror, and turned on his heel to waltz back out into the bedroom, giving Blaine a hot glance and seeing his jaw drop a little, his eyes widen and rapidly darken to the delicious burning gold Kurt had come to love, to think of last every night before he fell asleep, to find dancing through his mind in quiet moments of the day. “Like what you see?” he asked silkily, with an arch of his eyebrow.

Kurt let out a high, happy giggle when Blaine’s hands clamped on his waist and brought him closer, looping his legs around Blaine’s unfairly tiny waist as the man growled, “So much,” and kissed him hard, pressing his tongue straight into Kurt’s mouth, moulding his hands over Kurt’s ass and squeezing through the thin fabric.

“God, so much,” Blaine whispered as their lips parted a fraction, hands moulding and squeezing at Kurt’s ass. “You are just the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, I do always aim to impress,” Kurt said archly, surprising himself with his eloquence despite Blaine pressed so deliciously against him, hot and hard and firmly muscled, shape barely muted by Kurt’s clothes. “Ulterior motive with buying these, Mr. Anderson?”

Kurt would never stop finding it utterly hot, how Blaine could support his weight so easily, and it was hot now, when Blaine turned, lips wet and hot on the hollow of Kurt’s neck, and tipped him into the bed, eyes hungry and tracing greedily over the obvious soft lines and gentle curves of Kurt’s body. It was familiar by now, the weight of Blaine on top of him, pressing him into the mattress, hands wrapping like cuffs around his wrists to drag them up over his head and hold then there as Kurt writhed beneath him, head whipping from side to side. The way Blaine kissed down his body, lips sliding over the sheer silk, pausing to flick his tongue against both nipples until both were pebbled and Kurt was gasping brokenly at the attentions, left a trail of fire, pinpoints of arousal sending electricity exploding out across Kurt’s body, his hands clenching into fists above his head, pleading whimpers escaping him and his nails scrabbling for grip on the silken sheets.

When Blaine reached his thighs, laying wet, sucking kisses into the sensitive, soft skin, Kurt’s hand shot down to twine desperately into his wild curls, pulling him higher to shakily order, “Fuck me with your tongue,” voice high and desperate.

Kurt screamed out when Blaine obeyed his wishes, licking long and hot over him through the shorts, stiffening his tongue and pushing as far into him as he could, dragging the slippery, sodden fabric into him as he keened, crying out as his hips shoved themselves forward against Blaine’s mouth. He was almost sobbing as he gasped out Blaine’s name, fingers twisting hard into the dark curls, using Blaine’s hair as leverage to push his hips further down towards the slick heat of Blaine’s tongue jabbing inside him, jerking wildly against the intrusion when Blaine’s fingers came up to slip beneath the shorts and rub at his clit, screaming himself hoarse, head tossing back and forth against the sheets.

He could feel his orgasm building, fingers clenching tighter into Blaine’s hair, when the doorbell buzzed, loud and obnoxious. Blaine looked up, face flushed and making it so infallibly obvious what they’d been doing, and Kurt whined out, curling his feet around Blaine’s back, trying to pull him back. “Blaine, leave it, please just forget it, it’s three in the morning it’ll be something weird-” he started, but Blaine was already standing up, walking a little unsteadily across the room to don his robe and answer the door. Kurt considered donning something a little less exposing before following him, but hell, whoever it was had probably heard him and Blaine in bed, and there wasn’t much else to hide.

A middle-aged woman stood in the doorway, her greying hair in curlers and her face a staunch expression of disapproval. “There are children in this building, Mr. Anderson, and though you may make more in a year than both my husband and I put together, that does not give you the right to disturb the entire building at this hour of the night with your activities.” Her lip curled over the word, and Kurt winced as if he had suffered a blow, wrapping his arms bashfully around himself to cover where his nipples jutted against the sheer fabric, obviously hard.

“You can say it, Kathy, I’m down here having sex with another guy, who happens to be extremely loud in bed,” Blaine said haughtily, winking at Kurt. “I happen to think it’s hot. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Kathy looked disgusted and spat, “Just keep it down,” before storming away, leaving Kurt in a fit of the giggles. Blaine laughed with him and leant down for a soft kiss. “That’s a bit of a mood ruiner. Want to come and sleep in the bed for a while, and I’ll send you home perfectly clean and with some clothes I got that actually cover you up.”

“Blaine, it’s too much-”

Blaine just shook his head, taking Kurt by the hand and leading him back to the bedroom, where he handed Kurt a pair of the softest pyjama pants he’d ever felt and a T-shirt to cover himself up, storing the skimpy, see-through clothes in their parcel again, donning his own pyjamas and pulling Kurt into bed, smiling softly at him and kissing him one more time before they slept, fully-clothed and cuddled in against each other for the first time.