Nov. 6, 2011, 11:34 a.m.
Athanasia
Blaine feels time running away from them as Kurt is about to leave for New York so he convinces Kurt to break the rules and spend the night.
E - Words: 2,801 - Last Updated: Nov 06, 2011 451 0 1 2 Categories: Romance,
"To love another person is to see the face of God." Victor Hugo
When Blaine drove Kurt home on the fourteenth of August, there were four days left before Kurt was to leave for New York. Four days. There was a voice in his head that had been repeating the countdown on an endless loop for months. Now it chanted, Kurt leaves in four days. Four days. He could almost hear the ticking of the imaginary clock. It sounded like the whisper of a swinging axe.
He finally parked his station wagon in front of the Hudson-Hummel residence but he didn’t want Kurt to leave. He really didn’t want Kurt to leave. So when Kurt leaned in to kiss him goodnight, Blaine’s hands were quick to find his face and keep him there. Because, he reasoned, our goodnight kisses are numbered and if I can make them last longer, I will.
Blaine eventually broke the kiss but didn’t move away. He pressed his forehead to Kurt’s and closed his eyes, trying to enjoy the warm puff of Kurt’s breath mingling with his own. Four days, goes the counter in his head.
The thought dropped heavy and lodged in his throat but he’d promised Kurt he wouldn’t cry so instead of giving into it, he moved away from Kurt. Before he can even form the idea properly, it burst forth, his words running together in his eagerness,
“I think we should go to my house,” he looked up at Kurt and made himself go on, “My parents are away and I love you and you’re leaving in four days and you’ve always been home by curfew so who cares because you’re leaving in four days and I love you and yeah.”
Kurt’s jaw dropped slightly at the suggestion. He snapped it shut quickly enough to cover. But he tilted his head in consideration anyway. He spent most of his teenage years worrying about his father and his grades and lately getting into college and then actually going to college. Yes, he’d had his nights of fun but he had never not come home or anything too crazy. Going to his boyfriend’s empty house when he was leaving in four days seemed like a good idea.
Kurt nodded. Blaine smiled his ‘oh my god, I’m so excited that I need to show you all my teeth and crinkle my eyes’ smile. He didn’t need to be told twice. Blaine put his station wagon in drive and accelerated a little too eagerly. At a red light, Blaine slipped his hand into Kurt’s where he rested his own on the console between them. Kurt looked at him, smiled softly and caressed Blaine’s fingers with his thumb, like a promise of things to come.
A car honking behind them killed the moment. The stoplight had changed and they hadn’t even noticed. The rest of the twenty six minute drive was spent in silence. Every time Kurt touched him a little, caressed his arm or kissed his knuckles he was torn between desire and gloomy thoughts about the finality of everything.
Blaine parked in front of his house with less care than ever. He practically ran around to Kurt’s door but Kurt had already beaten him to it and was already out, leaning in to grab his bag. Blaine couldn’t help but admire the view before the ticking in his head reminded him—four days.
“C’mon” he said, impatiently, reaching out to pull Kurt along by the hand. Kurt giggled at his eagerness but let himself be guided toward Blaine’s front door.
“Calm down, Blaine. I’m already here. And I’m staying over,” he said pointedly, “We have time.”
Blaine growled in response. The Anderson house was dark inside, dimly lit by the moonlight streaming in through the bay windows. Kurt reached out to turn on the light in the foyer but Blaine stopped him.
“Leave it off,” he said, shortly.
Kurt gave him a puzzled look. He was about to ask why when Blaine moved into his space, kissing him hungrily. Blaine wasted no time in tasting Kurt, tongues twisting together in a familiar dance. Breaths and heartbeats quickened as Kurt squeezed Blaine’s sides where his hands rested, holding him close.
Blaine broke the kiss only when the need for air demanded it. He didn’t want to let go of Kurt so he wrapped his arms around Kurt’s shoulders and Kurt reciprocated, holding him tight around the waist. Blaine wondered if Kurt felt it too, how everything was epigraphed as “the last”. Every kiss tasted like the last, every touch left in its wake a tingling that pulsed with its finality. He wanted nothing more than to kill that feeling because he loved this boy. This was the boy who bought him coffee when school got to be too much, the boy who gave him flowers to make him happy, the boy whose voice struck something ineffable and otherworldly when he sang and well, he was going to miss him, goddamit.
“Upstairs?” said Kurt. Blaine nodded and reluctantly let go of Kurt so he could navigate his darkened home.
He smiled as Kurt, mumbled, “Can’t see” and put his hands on Blaine’s hips, following him to Blaine’s bedroom.
Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hands before dropping them and crossing his bedroom to open a window and let in a cool summer breeze. Behind him Kurt took off his shoes and lay down on Blaine’s bed. Blaine followed suit, crawling over to where Kurt lay and curling up at his side. He promptly decided that that wasn’t enough proximity and awkwardly wrapped his arms around Kurt’s middle and pressed his nose into Kurt’s neck.
Kurt wrapped an arm around his shoulders. They lay together taking each other in. Blaine pressed a gentle kiss to the soft Kurt-and-Burberry scented skin there, all the while thinking what he couldn’t say out loud. I love you, don’t leave me, I love you, don’t leave me, I love you, don’t leave me. He wondered how Kurt, the boy who had always worn his emotions so clearly appeared so calm now.
“Blaine, you’re thinking too loud,” Kurt said. Blaine laughed and kissed Kurt’s neck again before pulling back and sitting up on his elbow.
“I was just thinking that you’re surprisingly calm for someone who’s about to leave his entire life behind.”
Kurt considered his boyfriend quietly for a minute. He pressed a hand to Blaine’s cheek and swept his thumb across his bottom lip. Blaine leaned into the touch, feeling the knot thicken in his throat, his eyebrows drawing up.
“This isn’t my life,” Kurt paused, “Do you remember the first time you told me you loved me?”
Blaine laughed, and nodding, dropped his gaze. Kurt continued, “I had a moment then. And this might sound crazy because I know we’re so young and all but I saw my life then. All of it. From tea parties with my dad, to dancing at prom with you, our first time, to coming home to you every night, every day,” he paused as if considering whether or not to say what he was thinking. The color rose to his cheeks but he carried on, “Sometimes I look at you and I feel like I’m lying when I tell you I love you because this can’t be love. This—you and I—feels like so much more. More than the nostalgia, than the pain or the distance.”
Blaine looked back up at Kurt and leaned in to press his lips to Kurt’s. He didn’t really understand what Kurt had meant all he knew was that he didn’t want to waste any of their precious time. He deepened the kiss once he felt Kurt’s hand pulling him closer at the back of his neck, Kurt’s fingers twisting into his hair. They kissed, slow and thorough enjoying the slide of mingling tongues. Blaine kissed Kurt’s cheek, his jaw. He kissed down the column of his neck and opened Kurt’s top button with one hand so he could graze both teeth and tongue along the base of Kurt’s neck.
With a sharp intake of breath, Kurt drew a knee up and stretched his neck, his hands roaming over Blaine, his back, his hair. Kurt drew a breath that shook with desire,
“Why are we still wearing clothes?” he asked. Blaine laughed into Kurt’s neck before responding,
“I honestly have no idea,” he responded while reaching for Kurt’s buttons. He only got one undone before Kurt grabbed his hand and with a growl said, “Me first.”
He swiftly flipped Blaine on his back and boldly sat astride his lap, a blush creeping up his neck. Blaine settled his hands on Kurt’s legs as Kurt leaned forward and began undoing Blaine’s button-down. He opened each button, slowly, reverently caressing each new bit of exposed flesh. Beneath him, Blaine struggled to keep still when Kurt reached the bottom of the shirt. Kurt’s hands upwardly swept the expanse of Blaine’s chest, slowing down at the familiar patch of chest hair then brushed downward, raking his nails along Blaine’s sides. Blaine’s stomach twitched with longing and he dug his fingernails into Kurt’s thigh. Blaine’s hips bucked of their own accord, pitching Kurt forward slightly. Blaine sat up and took Kurt’s lips against his own in a passionate frenzy. Kurt did away with Blaine’s shirt and Blaine took advantage of his freedom quickly, undoing Kurt’s shirt and slowly lowering Kurt down on top of him.
Blaine took Kurt’s weight happily. He reveled in the sensation of feeling Kurt everywhere, chest versus chest, hearts beating wild and hard as if reaching out for one and other, legs tangled. Kurt shifted to kiss Blaine on the shoulder. The motion brought their erections together and with a gasp and a groan, Blaine snaked a hand down between them. Everything felt urgent and he needed even more closeness.
Blaine opened Kurt’s button and fly. He grazed his hand gently near the base of Kurt’s cock, eliciting a shuddering intake of breath from the boy hovering above him. Kurt went for Blaine’s neck, tongue and teeth searching the flesh there. Blaine groaned in response. He wanted more heat, more friction.
“Kurt” he half whispered, his voice tremulous with want. He brought his hands around and into Kurt’s pants from behind. He squeezed Kurt’s ass and brought him closer, building the heat and friction between them. They pressed into each other in tandem, hands going wherever they could. Blaine scratched his nails down Kurt’s back where his muscles were coiled tight and his skin was slick with sweat.
“Blaine,” Kurt said, when he couldn’t take the teasing friction, “pants off.”
After that, it was a race to see who could take his clothes off fastest—a feat that resulted in Blaine struggling to sort out the tangle of underwear around his ankles and Kurt giggling uncontrollably as he helped Blaine out.
Once the trousers were well rid of, Kurt put a hand on either of Blaine’s legs and brought them slowly up, satisfied with the way Blaine tensed as his hands wondered higher and higher. Kurt was caught up in the hot electricity he felt surging from his fingertips. How could it be possible that touching Blaine could make him feel like this? He wondered if Blaine felt it too. As he reached the tender crook of Blaine’s thighs, he looked up. A gasp escaped past Blaine’s parted lips.
A sudden dizzying lightness exploded Blaine’s chest that he had no words for. He felt something shift and realign in him. He felt Kurt’s words beat true in his chest—this was more than love, so much more. He had no words to describe the fact that in the clash of his look versus Kurt’s he caught a glimpse of immortality—of what it meant to be made for one and other; to say I love you, always and have it be true because no screaming stars, no black hole—no conceivable amount of time could obliterate the all encompassing veracity of Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson’s love for one another.
A contradicting urgent need to show Kurt what he’d gleaned filled Blaine. He needed to show Kurt, now. He pulled Kurt to him, kissed him hard and laid him on his back. They had found some sort of time slip where everything moved too fast and too slow at the same time. Blaine knew at some point he’d reached for lubrication but only remembered the hot thrill he felt when he pulled a guttural moan from Kurt where he knelt between his legs,
“More,” he said, breathily, bearing down on Blaine’s hand. Blaine groaned. He kissed Kurt’s knee tenderly and eagerly complied.
A few minutes of the ebb and flow of pleasure brought on by Blaine’s fingers in him had Kurt short of breath and frustrated. He fixed his fiery gaze on Blaine’s and took matters into his own hands. He sat up and hissed when Blaine removed his fingers and put his hands on Kurt’s hips.
Kurt’s eyes never left Blaine’s as he turned Blaine around so that his legs draped over the side of the bed and he leaned back on his hands. He climbed into Blaine’s lap, taking a moment to curl his hand around Blaine’s cock. He wanted to watch Blaine come undone in his hands a little before he was too far gone to appreciate it. He took in the way Blaine bit his lip and let his eyelids drop. Kurt was mesmerized by a droplet of sweat that trailed from Blaine’s hairline, down his Adam’s apple, to his clavicle.
Kurt curled his body forward to unknot Blaine’s lips with his own. Blaine let loose the moan he’d been holding back. Kurt whined right back into his mouth.
“Need you n’ me,” he mumbled as his eyelids fluttered shut. He leaned back and up, aligning himself with Blaine.
Blaine’s head fell back with a cry of pleasure as Kurt sank down on him slowly. Now Kurt bit his lip as he bore down on the delicious heat that filled him.
They found a rhythm, Kurt rising and dropping onto Blaine. The drag and build of pleasure had them both moaning and shuddering in a stuttering frenzy.
Kurt wrapped a hand around himself, stilling for a moment on top of Blaine. Blaine stared, mesmerized by the shameless way Kurt pulled up from his cock into his own fist throwing his head back and to the side. So fucking beautiful, Blaine thought. He snapped out of it and swatted Kurt’s hand away, replacing it with his own.
He leaned forward and Kurt had to put his hands on Blaine’s shoulders to keep from falling back. Blaine wrapped his free arm around Kurt’s waist, encouraging him to move again. Kurt complied and shifted, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s shoulders. The new angle only allowed him to grind onto Blaine and pull up into the relentless pull of Blaine’s hand.
Blaine dropped his head onto Kurt’s shoulder. He pressed a few open mouthed uncoordinated kisses wherever he could reach. Blaine felt Kurt’s muscle’s begin to tense up. He doubled his efforts with his hand and hips, ignoring his own desire to curl into the electrifying pleasure. He was so close.
Blaine screwed his eyes shut against his will. Finally, he felt the random spurts of pleasure connect and build knocking the breath out of him. Above him, Kurt mirrored his own throes of pleasure; he threw his head back and tangled his fingers in Blaine’s hair. With each ubiquitous wave of pleasure, they felt a like they suffered a delicious death that conjoined seamlessly with their rebirth. Over and over again until air became a necessity.
Blaine was left lightheaded and dizzy and so, didn’t notice when Kurt pulled off of him and cleaned them up. The next thing he remembered was Kurt pulling up the sheet around them and collapsing face down on Blaine’s chest, an arm draped across his sternum.
Blaine pressed his lips to Kurt’s hair. He felt happy. Kurt stirred and sat up on his elbow next to Blaine, mirroring his content smile. Blaine was quiet as Kurt observed him from above.
“Your eyelashes are wet,” he noted. He leaned forward and Blaine let his eyelids fall. Kurt pressed his lips to each of Blaine’s eyes. Blaine opened his eyes back up to Kurt’s adoring gaze.
“Love you,” Blaine said simply. Kurt smiled at him and, with a kiss, settled back down on Blaine’s chest.
They drifted off to sleep, lulled by the quiet certainty of forever.
Originally, I set out to write sexy smutty porny sex. But then I got to thinking and I came up with this: a commentary on love and immortality.The quote at the top has always meant a lot to me. I'm not a religious person by any means. I am an existentialist agnostic. To me, the meaning of life is other people. The conviction that we are all bound together by our mortality and the fear of uncertainty brought by that--to me, that is god. When one learns the amazing power of love--that it can be given and passed forth. That is god; that is immortality.Also, I read a lot of Whitman. And The Fountain is my favorite film.Last but not least, this fic was largely inspired by a song called "Algo Más" by La Quinta Estación. It's in Spanish though so, yeah. I just had to give them credit because the song is past 100 plays on my iTunes.Thank you for reading.-Bonnie
Comments
"Blaine wondered if Kurt felt it too, how everything was epigraphed as "the last". Every kiss tasted like the last, every touch left in its wake a tingling that pulsed with its finality. He wanted nothing more than to kill that feeling because he loved this boy. This was the boy who bought him coffee when school got to be too much, the boy who gave him flowers to make him happy, the boy whose voice struck something ineffable and otherworldly when he sang and well, he was going to miss him, goddamit." THIS^^^^^^ Well, okay, I loved this entire thing but I felt like it was necessary to C/P this little bit Beautiful and sexy and wonderful and my love for this one-shot is almost equal to my love for you ALL THE AWARDS for you, my dearest <3