face-the-fall
Feb. 8, 2012, 1:25 p.m.
Fielder's Choice (Wait for Spring ‘verse)
Blaine and Kurt have finally been drafted. But being hundreds of miles apart is tough. AKA phone sex.
E - Words: 1,150 - Last Updated: Feb 08, 2012 570 0 0 1 Categories: AU,
Author's Notes: Takes place in my Wait For Spring 'verse, but you don't have to read that to understand this, it's pretty much phone sex and not much else. This takes place the following year. Blaine and Kurt have been drafted and are both playing in the minor leagues.
The hotel room is old, the carpet worn and the lightbulb by the bed burned out. It looks like every other room Blaine's stayed in on this road trip, peeling wall paper and leaky faucets. The two small beds in the room are too close together, covered in an aged floral bedspread, and Blaine hopes that the teammate he's rooming with decides to stay the night at the house of whatever girl he's trying to seduce down at the hotel bar.
He's tired, feels it deep down in his bones, and he sighs loudly when he drops his bag next to the bed. He can't even remember what city the team's in this week, Topeka maybe, or Little Rock. All he remembers is being stuck on the team bus for three hours, driving from one city to another, corn fields rolling by outside the window.
He falls onto the bed, the cheap fabric itching his skin, and pulls his phone to check the time. 10:35pm. He knows Kurt's team had a game tonight, the mini schedule that Kurt gave him is folded up in his back pocket, but Kurt wasn't starting so it should be okay to call. He pulls out his phone and dials the familiar number.
"Hey there," Kurt answers and it immediately puts a smile on Blaine's face. It's been fourth months since the season started and four months since they've seen each other. Their teams aren't in the same league so they don't even play against one another, Kurt playing on the west coast and Blaine stuck in the middle of the country.
"Hi," Blaine answers back, the soreness from catching the game that night slowly draining from his body.
"How'd you do? I haven't had a chance to check the box score yet," Kurt asks.
"I struck out three times. Perez wasn't hitting his spots tonight, his curveball was flat, and I couldn't stop thinking about it when I was up at the plate," Blaine explains, still a little aggravated.
"I don't remember that being a problem when you caught me," Kurt teases him and god, Blaine misses Kurt so much that it physically hurts.
"Well, your curveball was never flat," Blaine says, laughing softly. They're quiet for a minute, just listening to one another breathe, and Blaine closes his eyes.
"So, where's the roommate tonight?" Kurt asks and Blaine can hear the change in his voice. It's not that noticeable, just a little deeper and smoother and Blaine really hopes this is going where he thinks it's going.
"Last time I saw him he was down at the hotel bar buying some girl a drink. We have time," Blaine tells him.
"Hmmm, do we?" Kurt asks, even though it's not really a question, and Blaine presses the phone closer to his ear.
"Kurt," he whispers, his voice tight and his cock already hardening.
"Do you know how much I've missed you, Blaine? How much I've missed looking at you, kissing you, touching you," Kurt starts and Blaine is already unzipping his jeans.
They don't do this very often. It's not practical or smart. He can't take the chance of his roommate walking in as Kurt's name falls from his lips, but sometimes they get desperate for each other. It's been four months, four months, of no physical contact and Blaine needs this tonight.
"Miss you, too. So much," Blaine sighs, pushing his hand into his jeans and grabbing onto his cock to relieve some of the pressure.
"Do you remember the last time we were together?" Kurt asks even though he knows the answer. Of course Blaine remembers.
Blaine's last day at school. Kurt had driven up to help Blaine pack, put his old life into boxes and start his new life as a professional baseball player. They had both been drafted, finally, and the excitement was still fresh.
"Remember how hot it was? How sweaty we were in your dorm room?" Kurt continues and Blaine quickly pushes his jeans and underwear down to his knees.
He starts stroking his dick slowly, twisting just a little under the head and smoothing his palm over the slit. He moans loudly, probably too loudly since the hotel he's in is cheap and the walls are thin.
Kurt has Blaine flat on his back, blankets kicked off the bed, and is licking all around his stomach. He collects Blaine's sweat with his tongue, moaning softly at the taste, and Blaine rocks his hips up.
"You tasted so good, Blaine. You always taste so good," Kurt tells him, pure want dripping from his voice. Blaine has no idea how Kurt stays so composed when they do this. Blaine can hardly string a sentence together.
"Keep going," Blaine whispers, hand moving faster on his dick. It's a little too dry, Blaine's palm catching skin on one of his strokes up, but he can't move to grab the lotion from the bag, couldn't even if he wanted to.
"That was the first time I had four fingers inside of you. God, you begged for it," Kurt's says, voice breaking just slightly at the end.
"Is it too much?" Kurt asks sounding slightly worried.
"Perfect, it's perfect," Blaine assures him, pushing his hips down further onto Kurt's fingers. He feels so full, completely filled up by Kurt, and Blaine knows nothing will ever feel this good.
"Don't stop, please don't stop," Blaine begs. He lets go of the phone, cradles it between his shoulder and his ear, and lets his free hand move down, past his balls, and fingers lightly at his hole. It's just a tease more than anything, he can't do much without lube, but he closes his eyes and pretends it's Kurt.
"God, you were so tight, Blaine. How are you always so tight for me?" Kurt says and Blaine can hear his composure slipping. It makes Blaine work harder, his hand moving fast and gripping his cock tight, pushing just the tip of his finger inside.
Kurt licks Blaine from his balls up to the tip of his cock, tasting, tongue circling the head, fingers still inside of Blaine. Blaine's a mess, thrashing on the bed and pleading with Kurt for something, anything.
"You came before I could even fuck you. Came around my fingers and on my face, remember?"
And that's it, Blaine can't hold on anymore. His resolve is shot and his orgasm hits him hard and fast, his hips pumping and Kurt's name in the back of his throat. He hears Kurt chant, "Blaine, Blaine, Blaine" over and over until there's silence on the other end, save for their breathing that's beginning to even out.
"All-Star break is in two weeks," Blaine breaks the silence by reminding him. He's been saving up his money to buy a plane ticket and fly wherever Kurt is for the three day break, to be able to make new memories when they go back on the road and don't see each other again for months.
"Mmmm," Kurt replies, happy and sated. "Three whole days together." And Blaine can't wait.
He's tired, feels it deep down in his bones, and he sighs loudly when he drops his bag next to the bed. He can't even remember what city the team's in this week, Topeka maybe, or Little Rock. All he remembers is being stuck on the team bus for three hours, driving from one city to another, corn fields rolling by outside the window.
He falls onto the bed, the cheap fabric itching his skin, and pulls his phone to check the time. 10:35pm. He knows Kurt's team had a game tonight, the mini schedule that Kurt gave him is folded up in his back pocket, but Kurt wasn't starting so it should be okay to call. He pulls out his phone and dials the familiar number.
"Hey there," Kurt answers and it immediately puts a smile on Blaine's face. It's been fourth months since the season started and four months since they've seen each other. Their teams aren't in the same league so they don't even play against one another, Kurt playing on the west coast and Blaine stuck in the middle of the country.
"Hi," Blaine answers back, the soreness from catching the game that night slowly draining from his body.
"How'd you do? I haven't had a chance to check the box score yet," Kurt asks.
"I struck out three times. Perez wasn't hitting his spots tonight, his curveball was flat, and I couldn't stop thinking about it when I was up at the plate," Blaine explains, still a little aggravated.
"I don't remember that being a problem when you caught me," Kurt teases him and god, Blaine misses Kurt so much that it physically hurts.
"Well, your curveball was never flat," Blaine says, laughing softly. They're quiet for a minute, just listening to one another breathe, and Blaine closes his eyes.
"So, where's the roommate tonight?" Kurt asks and Blaine can hear the change in his voice. It's not that noticeable, just a little deeper and smoother and Blaine really hopes this is going where he thinks it's going.
"Last time I saw him he was down at the hotel bar buying some girl a drink. We have time," Blaine tells him.
"Hmmm, do we?" Kurt asks, even though it's not really a question, and Blaine presses the phone closer to his ear.
"Kurt," he whispers, his voice tight and his cock already hardening.
"Do you know how much I've missed you, Blaine? How much I've missed looking at you, kissing you, touching you," Kurt starts and Blaine is already unzipping his jeans.
They don't do this very often. It's not practical or smart. He can't take the chance of his roommate walking in as Kurt's name falls from his lips, but sometimes they get desperate for each other. It's been four months, four months, of no physical contact and Blaine needs this tonight.
"Miss you, too. So much," Blaine sighs, pushing his hand into his jeans and grabbing onto his cock to relieve some of the pressure.
"Do you remember the last time we were together?" Kurt asks even though he knows the answer. Of course Blaine remembers.
Blaine's last day at school. Kurt had driven up to help Blaine pack, put his old life into boxes and start his new life as a professional baseball player. They had both been drafted, finally, and the excitement was still fresh.
"Remember how hot it was? How sweaty we were in your dorm room?" Kurt continues and Blaine quickly pushes his jeans and underwear down to his knees.
He starts stroking his dick slowly, twisting just a little under the head and smoothing his palm over the slit. He moans loudly, probably too loudly since the hotel he's in is cheap and the walls are thin.
Kurt has Blaine flat on his back, blankets kicked off the bed, and is licking all around his stomach. He collects Blaine's sweat with his tongue, moaning softly at the taste, and Blaine rocks his hips up.
"You tasted so good, Blaine. You always taste so good," Kurt tells him, pure want dripping from his voice. Blaine has no idea how Kurt stays so composed when they do this. Blaine can hardly string a sentence together.
"Keep going," Blaine whispers, hand moving faster on his dick. It's a little too dry, Blaine's palm catching skin on one of his strokes up, but he can't move to grab the lotion from the bag, couldn't even if he wanted to.
"That was the first time I had four fingers inside of you. God, you begged for it," Kurt's says, voice breaking just slightly at the end.
"Is it too much?" Kurt asks sounding slightly worried.
"Perfect, it's perfect," Blaine assures him, pushing his hips down further onto Kurt's fingers. He feels so full, completely filled up by Kurt, and Blaine knows nothing will ever feel this good.
"Don't stop, please don't stop," Blaine begs. He lets go of the phone, cradles it between his shoulder and his ear, and lets his free hand move down, past his balls, and fingers lightly at his hole. It's just a tease more than anything, he can't do much without lube, but he closes his eyes and pretends it's Kurt.
"God, you were so tight, Blaine. How are you always so tight for me?" Kurt says and Blaine can hear his composure slipping. It makes Blaine work harder, his hand moving fast and gripping his cock tight, pushing just the tip of his finger inside.
Kurt licks Blaine from his balls up to the tip of his cock, tasting, tongue circling the head, fingers still inside of Blaine. Blaine's a mess, thrashing on the bed and pleading with Kurt for something, anything.
"You came before I could even fuck you. Came around my fingers and on my face, remember?"
And that's it, Blaine can't hold on anymore. His resolve is shot and his orgasm hits him hard and fast, his hips pumping and Kurt's name in the back of his throat. He hears Kurt chant, "Blaine, Blaine, Blaine" over and over until there's silence on the other end, save for their breathing that's beginning to even out.
"All-Star break is in two weeks," Blaine breaks the silence by reminding him. He's been saving up his money to buy a plane ticket and fly wherever Kurt is for the three day break, to be able to make new memories when they go back on the road and don't see each other again for months.
"Mmmm," Kurt replies, happy and sated. "Three whole days together." And Blaine can't wait.