Feb. 17, 2015, 6 p.m.
Dirt On Your Name: Youre A Champion Itching For A Comeback
E - Words: 3,899 - Last Updated: Feb 17, 2015 Story: Complete - Chapters: 7/? - Created: Jan 03, 2015 - Updated: Jan 03, 2015 210 0 0 0 0
So, this is it! I had to completely rewrite the epilogue when I realized how much the first one sucked, and then I got sick and today/night is actually the first time in two weeks I haven't had a headache so here it is. I hope you enjoyed this story and if you did, that you let me know in the reviews :) Thanks to everyone who read this and gave me the courage and motivation to plow on and keep posting. Your encouragement really means the world, and it's because of you that writing this was such a pleasant, fun experience.
Also, in case you're interested in reading more, I'll be taking prompts for this ‘verse, so if you wanna head on over to my tumblr (or message me on here, though it would be easier for me to keep track via tumblr) and prompt something, feel free to do so!
“You okay, babe?” Blaine could barely contain a grin as he looked at Kurt's even-paler-than-usual face, cold sweat beading at his brow and the look in his eyes wild and somewhat manic as it darted over the backstage area.
“U-huh. Have you seen Eleanor? I need her to put on the gown again, I think I messed up the measurements and there's just enough time for me to fix them if I could just find her but she's not answering her cell and she didn't tell me where she went off to and I just knew it's too loose around the waist when I saw her earlier and I'm so stupid I should've kept her there right then but then Jess had a crisis and –“
Blaine framed Kurt's face with his hands, careful as ever, and fixated him with his eyes.
“Breathe. Okay? I'm sure she's around here somewhere; it's not like she's actually allowed to leave backstage before the show. And I'm sure you were as immaculate with her measurements as you always are.”
“But what if she lost weight since last time?”
“Kurt, last time was not even two days ago. No one can lose that much weight that quickly. Now relax, okay? Look,” he said when he spotted the model and started stirring Kurt in her direction. “There she is. Go make sure you appeased your great big perfectionist urges. I'll be outside with your dad.”
“Is he upset I'm spending all my time back here?” Kurt looked at him, so wide-eyed and earnest in his fear that Blaine couldn't help but laugh and kiss his cute button nose, making him scrunch it up and Blaine kiss it again.
“Of course he's not upset. He's thrilled to be spending so much time with his future son-in-law, trust me. I've got him and Carole and Finn right where I want them so they don't get upset when they hear us having sex over the next ten days.”
“I'm not having sex with you with my dad in the next room – oh fuck it.” Kurt glared when Blaine interrupted him with a cheeky grin and a, “fuck me, yeah!”
The pale man shook his head. “I need to go and… check up on Ellie. See you in a bit. Or maybe not. Stay with my family.”
“Alright…” Blaine wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed his cheek. “Text me if you need me though. Good luck, not that you really need it. You're gonna kill this thing.”
“Thanks, sweetie. Love you.”
“Love you more.”
“That's debatable and you know it.”
Kurt leaned in to give him a quick peck on the mouth before bustling over to the redhead, who laughed as he spoke to her frantically and willingly pulled her top up to below her breasts as he produced a measuring tape out of nowhere.
Blaine stared after his fiancé fondly, only managing to tear his gaze away when his phone vibrated in his pocket.
Where are you? How's Kurt doing? Tell him not to pee his pants like the time he did when he was 6 and put on a fashion show with his Mom. – Papa Bear
Unable to contain the laugh tearing from his throat, Blaine hurried back to where the “commoners” were sitting. It had been Kurt's wish that his family was not allowed to go backstage before the show; he was even going to ban Blaine from the area, but after the fourth nervous breakdown he'd had over the last couple of weeks, nearly resulting in him completely cutting up the most elaborate dress he'd sewn for the occasion, he realized that the element of surprise wasn't as valuable as his sanity.
“Did you mean literally pee his pants or metaphorically?” Blaine asked once he spotted the Hudmel family and plopped down next to Burt. The man quirked an eyebrow at him, the gesture eerily reminiscent of his son pulling the same expression.
“It's Kurt and fashion and there was some kind of… what did he call it? A wardrobe malfunction. What do you think?”
Snickering and vowing to make his fiancé spill the entire story later, once this whole ordeal was over and done with and he finally managed to get some food into him and maybe convince him to sleep, he leaned back and waited for the showcase to begin.
. . .
“To Kurt Hummel, NYU graduate at the top of his class and future head of design for Alexander McQueen!” Burt roared as he held up his glass. It was very obvious to Blaine that the man didn't usually drink, what with him being obviously at least tipsy after less than two glasses of champagne.
“It's a paid internship, Dad. Yes, they said if they like what they see, they'll hire me for good, but I still have a long way to go,” Kurt interjected, but there was a flush adorning his beautiful features and his eyes were shining bright with happiness as he let everyone's glasses clink with his despite his words. The last time Blaine had seen him look so… alive, so vibrant, was after he'd uttered a shaky, “yeah… yes,” when Blaine proposed to him.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he leaned over to whisper in his ear, making the rosy color on his cheeks deepen. And that was something he hoped would never change; the two of them had been together for almost four years, and the people around them would be shocked and appalled if they knew what kind of kinky shit they got up to in the bedroom, but he still had the power to make Kurt blush to his roots with a simple compliment.
The man turned towards him, cerulean oceans reflecting the morning sun locking onto Blaine's hazel eyes – stupid and ordinary was what Blaine called them; beautiful and calm and deep like a Scandinavian forest was how Kurt described them.
“I would have thought I always look beautiful,” he teased, his voice quiet and breathy.
“You do. But tonight, you're glowing extra bright. You should stop. It's not fair on us mortals.”
“You make me sound like a pregnant woman,” Kurt chuckled and pressed his lips against Blaine's, making an electric current run down his spine and his hands clench into fists and the cheesy comeback he had on the tip of his tongue sizzle out.
“They're staying with Rachel tonight. Her dads wanna catch up or something, but I know it's really a ruse to get her and Finn to talk.” Pale fingers interlaced with his tan ones, accompanied by the faintest noise of metal meeting metal as their engagement rings connected and Kurt squeezed his hand. “Care to try and get one of us pregnant in spite of our biological setup? Test if it works if we try over and over again?”
Ah, there was the comeback Blaine had forgotten. He snorted unattractively even as he felt a faint buzzing start in his abdomen and radiate through the rest of his limbs.
“Count me in,” he whispered back just as he felt someone smack him on the back of his head.
“C'mon, Hobbit, you get him all the time! Let the rest of us enjoy Child Bride, too,” Santana grumbled.
“Yeah, I had to beg my boss to let me take off the week and I didn't grovel on my knees for you to hog him all the time! My life is so hard, Kurtie,” Elliott added with a pout.
“First of all, I'm nearly 22, so shut up, Santana. Secondly, Elliott, you're a recording artist. With Blaine's company nonetheless, so we know how it works, even if he's here in New York and you're in Santa Monica, and you literally stand around and sing, which is something you do all the time anyway, so remind me again how your job is hard? See these?” Kurt withdrew his hands from Blaine's to present them to the people gathered around the table, showing off the blisters he'd gotten from countless hours of sewing. “This is work.”
There was a beat of silence. “I know he's small in general but is Anderson's ass really that tight or…?” Santana interrupted it, acting innocent and confused as Finn choked on his drink and Burt, too, coughed obviously while the rest of the table chuckled surreptitiously-but-not-really.
“I hate you all,” Blaine groaned and crossed his arms on the table to hide his face in them. “Except Kurt,” he clarified, voice muffled, and felt Kurt's palm rubbing up and down his back and his lips connecting with his temple as he shook with the vibrations of his silenced laughter.
. . .
“How long till they're due back here?” Kurt panted, clutching the sheets and shuffling his legs further apart.
“We've got time. It's not even 8 yet,” Blaine murmured as he pecked over Kurt's shoulder to the back of his neck, draping his body completely over his fiancé's lying flat on the bed.
“I know I promised you'd get to fuck me one more time today but…” Blaine exhaled a shuddering breath as he lined up his cock with Kurt's hole. “My ass has never been that sore, not even the time you thought Horseteeth was flirting with me again at that party and got jealous.”
“Wasn't – wasn't jealous,” Kurt gasped and spread his legs as wide as he could while keeping them on the bed as Blaine pushed into him inch by inch. “And I'm, ahh, not complaining. Love when you wake me up like this and you know it.”
“It's just so tempting...” Blaine sighed, followed by a moan when he finally bottomed out. “Your skin all soft and warm, body pliant and that delicious ass on display… Couldn't not taste it.”
“Mhm, I know… I've been there with you… Oh yeah, like that, slow and deep and…” Kurt began to murmur, but was interrupted by an involuntary gasp when Blaine thrust in roughly.
“Hard? Hold you down, don't let you move, make you take it?” Blaine breathed into Kurt's ear before latching onto the lobe, making the pale man groan in pleasure.
“You, mhm… you know me so well,” he chuckled breathlessly and turned his head to the side to look at Blaine. “Kiss me?”
Blaine complied, wasting no time and immediately plunging into Kurt's wet, satiny mouth. His eyes were closed as their lips and tongues danced and he explored every nook and cranny to make sure it tasted just the same as it had the night before, and Kurt would probably call bullshit because “morning breath, Blaine!” but there was something so uniquely, strongly Kurt there that neither morning breath nor alcohol nor toothpaste could erase it, and it made him moan and shake to be allowed to sample it.
Kurt was starting to buck beneath him and whined into his mouth, something Blaine had come to know as the tell-tale sign that he needed more now. His hands found Kurt's and he laced their fingers together before he brought them up next to his head and held them there, resting his weight more firmly along the length of his lithe body – except for his hips, which were incrementally picking up pace and adjusting the angle with which they were burying his cock inside Kurt, until the man forcefully tore his lips from Blaine's and cried out, eyes squeezing shut.
“Right there, yes, yes, yes…” he whimpered as Blaine's mouth latched onto every part of skin he could reach. Perhaps cruelly, the older man decided to readjust the angle, making Kurt shout, “no, no! Go back, I was right there, go back!”
Blaine didn't react other than transferring both of Kurt's wrist above his head and into one of Blaine's hands so he could grab a fistful of the sweat-soaked, chestnut strands on Kurt's head. He pulled a little, grinning at the wide-eyed, hungry gaze he received in response.
“Beg,” he said, the cheeky smirk on his face only belied by the desperate look in his own eyes and the sweat running down his face, starting at his temples and dripping from his chin and nose onto Kurt. Kurt only whimpered some more in response, so he forced himself to still completely inside him. “C'mon, I know how much you love it when I make you beg, no need to act coy.”
“Oh fuck,” Kurt whined, and Blaine would have laughed at how predictable his fiancé was if he didn't love how well he knew how to push his buttons, and if he wasn't so damn turned on himself. “Yes, yes I love it, and you know how desperate I am for you so please fuck me like it, please please please, Blaine, please…”
Blaine growled and attacked Kurt's mouth as he plunged himself in, out, in, out, with increasing vigor, not even needing to seek out Kurt's spot anymore because he knew exactly where it was and made sure to hit it every time he sunk into him.
“You like that, filthy little boy? You like when I stuff you full of my cock? Of course you do, you're practically gagging for it, your greedy little hole is practically sucking me up…”
Kurt's moans were beautifully wanton, his body writhing as much as it could with Blaine's restricting him, no doubt rubbing his cock against the sheets as he started to babble and contract around Blaine's length.
“Oh shit, yes, yes, like that... Blaine, baby, more, please… please…”
“More? It's never enough for you, is it? I could fuck you for hours on end and you'd still be panting for more…”
“Only you, only because it's you,” Kurt gasped, ass clamping down on Blaine and his entire body going rigid as he cried out and made a mess of the sheets below him. “Love you, love you, love you…”
“Shit, I love you too… love you… fuck, fuck, Kurt!” Blaine groaned as he followed Kurt over the edge, burying himself in the pale man one last time and sobbing out his orgasm into the crook of his neck as he coated his walls. Completely spent, he slumped down on top of him.
They were both breathing harshly into the sudden quiet of the room, heartbeats rabbit-quick and chests heaving as they basked. It was Kurt who broke the silence, chuckling and squirming beneath Blaine until the older man rolled off of him and he could borrow into his side, their skin still slippery against each other.
“You think marital sex is going to be as good as pre-marital sex?”
Blaine just grunted, his brain not at full capacity yet, and Kurt hid his face in his chest and laughed.
. . .
The fact that Blaine invited his father to the wedding was probably just as much of a surprise to everyone else as it was to him, but Cooper had managed to track him down and convince him that their mother had not completely ruined their image of him, and he seemed to regret leaving them behind, so he figured it was probably only polite to send him an invitation.
He hadn't expected him to actually RSVP, let alone confirm that he was, indeed, coming.
And he definitely hadn't expected him to actually show up, especially not looking around as nervously as he was at the other guests gathered around, as if he wasn't sure he was welcome.
He nudged Cooper, who was in deep conversation with Eleanor and obviously about to complain about the interruption when his words died in his throat.
“If you'll excuse us…” Cooper gave the woman one of his million-dollar-smiles and she nodded with one of her own, turning around to seek out someone else to converse with until the ceremony started.
“Hi boys… How are you doing?” Aaron Anderson had aged over the past 10 years they hadn't seen him, but not in a bad way; he looked healthy, the tan the Thailand sun had gifted him with making his blue eyes pop; they were also emphasized by laugh lines instead of worried creases as Blaine had always suspected would be the case, as was his mouth, and a few flecks of grey were adorning his otherwise dark brown hair.
There was so much Blaine wanted to say. So much he could and should say, about neglect and abandonment and how much he resented him, hated him, except he realized now that he didn't, couldn't, not when his dad was giving him all he ever wanted by saying, “so, do I get to meet the lucky man you're making your husband today? I would very much like to let him know what a great catch he made.”
And then he was in his father's arms, sobbing helplessly, and his dad was crying too, and so was Cooper when he joined their embrace, and when he looked up, wiping his eyes as discretely as he could, he saw Kurt watch them from afar with a happy twinkle in his eyes, matching the beaming smile that was painted by the curve of his lips.
“Yeah… c'mon, quick, before the ceremony starts. I'm not gonna complain if there's one more person convincing him not to run screaming after all. And you're gonna get along great,” Blaine added as he pulled his father and Cooper to where Kurt was standing, looking more and more nervous as they approached him. “No one can talk cars and motorcycles like him and his dad. And he's a designer, so don't take it personally if he starts tearing apart whoever made your suit,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
“Why, what's wrong with my suit?!”
“What isn't?” Cooper countered with a chuckle, making their father huff in false indignation, and since when was it so easy to get along and joke with his dad? When would the illusion pop? Blaine's thoughts were racing, but he decided to push them to the back of his mind for now, exorcize them for this beautiful, beautiful, blessing of a day, and at least temporarily forget all his worries as he reached his flustered fiancé-soon-to-be-husband.
He had no worries as Kurt and Aaron seemed to click right away.
He had no worries as Tina came up to him and hissed about it being bad luck that they'd seen each other in their wedding suits before the ceremony, and laughed when she looked shocked that neither of them had grappled for the opportunity to strut down the aisle either and moaned about how funny and silly and completely them that would have been.
He… almost worried when he forgot his vows halfway through, but decided to simply announce a loud “fuck it!” and wing it.
“Kurt… I… okay. When I first met you, I'll admit that the first thing I thought was ‘hot damn, papa want a piece of that'.” Burt shouted an irate “hey!” as the rest of the crowd laughed. “Psh, Papa Bear, I'm trying to make a point here,” Blaine replied, grinning and already feeling teary-eyed. “And it will come as no surprise to anyone who's met you, but of course, you rejected me. I didn't know why that bothered me so much, until a certain glitter rock vampire entered the equation,” it was Elliott's turn to protest loudly, but Blaine ignored him aside from the chuckle he emitted, “and his friendship with you made me seethe with jealousy and… I realized I'd give anything just for the chance to be near you, to be allowed to breathe in the same air as you and call you at least a friend. And words cannot express how grateful I am you let me.” He sucked in a harsh breath before continuing, everything but Kurt's watery eyes fading into the background. “A lot of people didn't understand us. Still don't understand us. I remember when I had to leave you here for six months. It was the hardest thing I've ever done, and everyone was rooting against us, but we prevailed. We showed them, and here we are today. The day you walked into my life you… you saved me, Kurt. I didn't know I needed it, but you did it nonetheless and I realize now how lost I was. You brought, you still bring out the best version of myself I could ever be and I never have and never will take that for granted, and I'd be honored if you let me prove that to you, if you let me show you how utterly thankful and devoted to you I am for the rest of our lives.”
And when he remembered the generic words he'd set out to say beforehand, he couldn't help but be glad he forgot them.
Kurt laughed when it was his turn, the sound suspiciously wet as he took a few deep breaths before he spoke.
“Blaine… I had this beautiful speech planned out, did you know that? I made index cards for it and learned it by heart and it contained all those nice words like “soulmate” and “love of my life” and everything. But in the spirit of things… fuck it,” he repeated what Blaine had said earlier, making the older man grin and their guests whoop in approval. “I was well aware of what you were out for when you first approached me that night, and I'd heard stories about you, but when I saw you I couldn't help but think… holy crap, I understand the fuss now. But I didn't really – I only understood what everyone else did, and that's the fact that you're hot. And no one will ever be as glad, and as thankful, as I am that I decided to step off my high horse and give myself the chance,” he emphasized, “to discover who you truly are. Which is the most amazing man I've ever met, and could ever hope to meet. My dad always says I'm as stubborn as a mule, and I guess that's true, but it's because I've had to fight for the right to be who I am for most of my life. And when I met you… that was the first time I didn't have to fight anymore. I can be myself around you and know that you don't only accept me, but that you love me, not despite my eccentricities but because of them. It feels so good to not have to fight anymore, and I know you probably won't believe me but Blaine… you saved me just as much. You give me safety. You make me feel connected. And you'd make me the happiest man alive if you also gave me a chance today… if you gave me the chance to promise to love you in return and show you how grateful I am for you, every day for the rest of eternity. I'm about to say the word after all, but you're the love of my life, and I want us to be together, fearlessly…” he started.
“And forever.” Blaine breathed back, completing the phrase that had become their constant over the past few years.
Everyone gathered cheered as they kissed, and laughed once more when they all realized the officiant hadn't even declared them Mr and Mr Hummel-Anderson yet.
It didn't matter.
Blaine had no worries.
Kurt would gladly kiss him again.