The Way You Make Me Feel

"Kurt, would you mind leaving for the night?" Natalia asks sweetly, her crimson-painted lips tilted up in a transparently fake smile. "The pianist for the show is coming over, and I plan on having him demonstrate his fingering. On more than just his instrument." She drops a lewd wink to him with a wicked smirk and shoos him with her fake-nailed hands.

Kurt sighs heavily and vacates his desk, grabbing up his folder of sketches and crossing the hall to Julian and Vanessa. The tiny blonde woman greets him with a smile on her face and an apple-cheeked baby balanced on her hip. "Hello, darling, your scarlet woman of a roommate having a little friend over again?" she asks sweetly, hitching the tiny boy higher on her hips. "Come on in, Julian and Freddy are just finishing making beans on toast for our dinner and we were going to put the kids to bed soon and open a bottle of wine. The spare room is still made up from your last visit, so feel free to go lie down before we have food."

"Thank you honey, you're an angel," Kurt says gratefully, kissing the woman's dimpled cheek and finding his way through the house by feel to the room he usually stays in, dropping his sketches on the desk and looking through the nail-polish-stained chest of drawers for the cheap sweats and T-shirt he keeps over at the Llewellyns for convenience's sake. He decides not to wait, knowing Freddy and Maria will be in their pyjamas for dinner, and undresses quickly to slip into the familiar fabric, smelling pleasantly floral after their last wash.

His night with the cheerful, bright-eyed family of five is uneventful, filled with the merry, innocent chatter of two young children and little Ryan banging his sticky fists on the table while Julian and Vanessa talk, occasionally to him, sometimes to the children and mostly to each other, gazing soft-eyed and tender into each other's eyes. Kurt plays with the children for a while, smiling as Maria shows him the inner workings of her dolls' house before Freddy drags him away to play with his train set. He leaves for bed as soon as Julian starts getting handsy and Vanessa starts getting giggly as the three of them make their way down the bottle of wine.

Morning comes and he slips out of the apartment and crosses the empty, dimly-lit hall before anyone else wakes to find Natalia already in the kitchen, eating muesli with her slipper-clad feet up on the table, mascara smudged beneath her eyes and looking a lot less glamorous in baggy striped pyjamas with her hair hanging limp and damp around her face. "Not a great night last night?" he asks, feeling the obligation to inquire even though he has no great desire to know about his roommates sex life

"Actually, turned out he didn't want to have sex, per say," Natalia confides, rolling her eyes and lowering her feet from the table at Kurt's warning glare. "He took me to a masseuse a couple of girls at work swear by, and Jesus Christ, was he worth the fifty dollars I paid. We both got a full-body massage and an orgasm."

"Seriously?" Kurt scoffs, grabbing himself a bowl and emptying the last of their cornflakes into it, sloshing milk clusmily over the counter as Natalia throws a slipper at his back in warning. "I thought you'd perfected the art of not doing that during massage appointments. Said you'd been working on it since fourteen."

"He was deliberately doing it," Natalia says with a shrug. "I asked the receptionist, Little Miss Peroxide, as we were leaving, and she said he does it deliberately. He was just hot as all fucking hell, and I haven't had an orgasm like that in forever. You could not fault his technique. Apparently he's in high demand, but he has an open slot this Thursday at twelve thirty. During your lunch break."

"Are you suggesting I go to a masseuse just to have an orgasm?" Kurt asks, arching an eyebrow at the girl as he sits down opposite her and grabs for the novel he left sitting on the counter last night. "I am not that desperate, Natalia.

"Kurt, darling, every time you get drunk and start your characteristic over-sharing, all you ever talk about is how you've never had a boyfriend, never had sex, never had a kiss that meant anything, never even had an orgasm because you're some kind of alien who doesn't want to masturbate ever," Natalia reminds him with a heavy sigh. "I think you just need to get you some. Maybe then you won't whine endlessly when I make you go stay with the Llewellyns because I'm having someone over."

Kurt rolls his eyes over-exaggeratedly and returns to his cornflakes, but he can't help thinking over her suggestion. Twenty-one years is no time to go without a romantic prospect, without being able to ever give or receive pleasure because he's too afraid what other men will think of what he has between his legs.

Somehow, Natalia notices his inner turmoil, and he finds himself outside the massage parlour at twelve thirty on Thursday, having eaten quickly back at the office with a co-worker and rushed outside to flag down a taxi and find his way to the place Natalia promises will send him away happier than ever before.

The receptionist, who is just as peroxide blonde as Natalia has been disparagingly saying, directs his to the second right corridor and the third door on the left, lifting an eyebrow at the idea he might be searching for the apparently renowned Blaine Anderson.

"Hey there, gorgeous," comes a silky voice that could no doubt charm the birds away from the food table in the bleak midwinter as he inched the door open. "Oh wow, you really are utterly stunning. Blaine Anderson, and I assure you, the pleasure is all mine."

Kurt looks up from the cream-tiled floor to meet golden eyes and a confident white smile that makes his knees weak. Just the thought of this man standing over his naked body, rubbing oil into his skin and massaging away the stiffness in his shoulders (bring him to orgasm) has him shaking with nerves.

"It's nice to meet you," he says, voice shaking and too high. Blaine grins and chuckles lightly when he holds out a hand to shake. "Kurt Hummel. So...should I...like...I..."

"Yes, this sort of massage requires you to disrobe fully," Blaine says sweetly. "Here's a robe, you can strip off right now or, if you're a little more modest, you can slip behind that screen." His eyes darken and his tone drips with potential as he leans forward to whisper, "Just remember, I'll see so much more later."

Kurt squeaks and ducks behind the screen with the robe, a flush rising in his cheeks at Blaine's words, at the images flooding into his mind and the way his touch-deprived body heats and trembles at the mere suggestion. No matter how sceptical he may have been, he can't deny that merely Blaine's look, the dark honey of his eyes and the sinuous twisting promise in his voice already has arousal bubbling between his legs.

"I have never seen someone make a simple white robe look so good," Blaine observes, eyes darkening once more as they fall across Kurt tiptoeing timidly out from behind the screen, tightening the cord around his waist. "Come on, baby, lie on your stomach here on the table and allow me to work my magic."

Kurt giggles high and nervous and approaches the long table with the soft crimson towels laid out across it. He starts violently when Blaine's hands rise up out of nowhere to trace the top edges of the robe, whispering across his skin before gliding down to untie the knot. "I don't know why you bothered to put it on," Blaine murmurs, pushing the fabric from his shoulders, his come-hither dark eyes following its path to the ground. "Baby, what's my name?"

"Blaine Anderson," Kurt whispers, eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he looks down at the hems of Blaine's pants brushing the tiles. "Why do you need me to say it?"

"Again, just my first name," Blaine says, voice swirling with suggestion. He traces one hand over the shapes of Kurt's collarbones, making his eyelashes flutter, and smiles seductively at him before rubbing the pad of his thumb over Kurt's nipple.

"Oh my God!" Kurt whines, head tipping back involuntarily at the touch. "Blaine!"

"You're pretty sensitive, huh, baby?" Blaine observes with a genuine smile. "On the table, please, on your stomach, so I can start the massage." His lips are frustratingly close to brushing against Kurt's earlobe as he whispers, "I'm going to make this so good for you."

Kurt shivers at the touch of Blaine's hands on his skin again, drifting lower to run over his hipbones before vanishing all together, making him whimper at the loss and arch forward for more of Blaine's touch. "Woah there, eager boy," Blaine says with laughter dancing in his eyes. "Get on the table, then it'll be time for more of that."

Kurt can't help how his hands shake as he lies down, pillowing his chin on his arms. A soft gasp escapes his lips at the first touch of Blaine's hands to his skin, slick with oil. The lights are low and there is no sound but for the whisper of Blaine's skin against his, smoothing away the stiffness until he's pliable and relaxed.

A keen escapes his lip when Blaine's lips brush softly against the back of his neck, a kiss laid to each bump of his spine, lower and lower while Blaine's hands slip beneath his body to smooth the oil over his stomach and chest, the tips of his fingers drawing circles around his hard nipples before slipping lower.

"Blaine, I...don't," he murmurs when Blaine's hand presses into his pubic mound, fingers brushing across the coarse trimmed hairs. "No one's ever...I've never done anything like this." A flush rises in his cheeks and he hides his face in his arms. "I'm sorry, I'm a virgin. God, I'm so embarrassed."

"It's okay," Blaine says softly, suddenly closer, so close Kurt can feel the warmth of his body over his. "I won't do anything you're uncomfortable with. I'll stop right now if you want me to."

"No, I want you to." Kurt can't help but hesitate before he finally answers, but Blaine's hand pressing against his stomach is wide and rough and turns him on more than it should. "Please, Blaine."

"You're going to feel so amazing, baby," Blaine murmurs, hands running across the backs of Kurt's thighs. "This will feel so perfect." His lips brush against the back of Kurt's shoulders. "You're really pretty."

The lights of the room are lowered, to add to the secretive, seductive, slightly forbidden ambience, though Kurt barely notices anything, from the relaxing pale green of the ceiling to the muted creams of the floor, past Blaine's hands creeping beneath the towel, smoothing over his ass, one finger tracing down his crack as he shudder and mewls. Everything's far too intense, being touched with tenderness by someone with the sole intention of turning him on until he can't see straight, and it only takes Blaine's finger circling the rim of his hole before he's coming, vision flashing white as his body writhes on the table.

"Shush, shush, you'll fall if you keep up like that," Blaine soothes, laying his hands on Kurt's shoulders to steady him before he slips, body still spasming with the aftershocks of his first orgasm. "Careful, baby, I don't want you to get hurt." Kurt raises his head, panting roughly and turns his head to see Blaine next to him, smiling. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Kurt says dreamily, barely able to focus on Blaine as he presses his forehead against the pillow of his arms to hide his ridiculously wide smile. "That was just...really intense. I've never felt like that before."

"I want to make you feel like that," Blaine whispers, eyes wide and dark, "over and over and over again." He lays a kiss to Kurt's skin with every word, finally pressing his lips to Kurt's neck and sucking on the skin, pulling away with a lewd wet sound as Kurt gasps, arousal already warming his body again. Blaine's fingers walk up his spine as the man himself murmurs, "Lie on your back, baby."

Kurt has to stand up to turn over, and grimaces at the feel of his thighs rubbing slickly together. Blaine fusses with the towel, smooths away the creases and slides a pillow into position as Kurt lie down again, looking up at the ceiling and avoiding Blaine's eyes.

Blaine climbs onto the table with him, taking his ankles and pushing at his legs until he bends, drawing his knees almost up to his chest, exposing himself utterly to Blaine. He hears the breath drawn in through Blaine's teeth, but doesn't know what to expect, where Blaine's going to touch, how close he'll crowd in, caught in a momentary fantasy of entwined bodies radiating heat and desperation, fuelled by the thick smell of sex replacing the scent of eucalyptus and exotic spices filling the room.

Kurt jerks violently forward, hand twisting in the towel beneath him, mutilating the crimson terrycloth, when Blaine uses his thumbs to pull at the slick skin of his folds, spreading them apart and staring boldly at him, eyes so dark with arousal the honey-hazel is barely a rim around his blown pupils, breathing ragged as Kurt pushes away the urge to clamp his thighs together and hide away. Doubt is replaced by a head-spinning surge of arousal as Blaine slowly rubs one of his thumbs down the centre of him, stopping at the delicate skin of his entrance, leaving him whining Blaine's name desperately, begging shamelessly for more.

"Please, Blaine, just give me more," he begs, pushing forward against Blaine's thumb, clenching around the pressure as it slides inside him, his moan of relief echoing Blaine's deep-chested growl. "Give me everything, I want it all, please, Blaine."

"God, baby, you're so hot," Blaine groans, pulling his thumb away with a squelch that is the most pornographic sound Kurt has ever heard. "I've never seen anyone so beautiful. Please come again, I want to see it, I want you to come for me."

Kurt comes with a barely coherent shriek of Blaine's name with an obscene amount of fluid, soaking Blaine's arm and the towels beneath him, collapsing into the table limp and satiated. After only a moment Blaine pushes two fingers inside him, and he jerks forward. "Blaine, I'm so tired, I don't think I can come again," he murmurs, a flush rising on his face as he hears his own words, the way they sound like the words of a porn star.

"Let me try," Blaine says, voice low and rough, making Kurt rut his hips shallowly forward with the knowledge pounding in the forefront of his mind that he is the cause of Blaine's tone and Blaine's eyes are dark with the way he wants him and Blaine's bare olive skin is glistening with his come, dear Lord. "I want to make you feel so good."

Kurt comes twice more, each time with more noise until he's almost screaming, an oversensitive writhing mess on the table while Blaine is still, encouraging him in an increasingly low growl that turns him on more, each of Kurt's orgasms soaking both of them, mingling with the sweat on their skin.

"Blaine, kiss me, please kiss me," he begs desperately, pushing against the three fingers Blaine has inside him. "I need you, please, I need to feel you."

Blaine doesn't make a sound, just leans over and kisses him, hard and dirty, tongue sliding into Kurt's open mouth and swallowing his whimpers and moans, thrusting past his teeth as Kurt grows dizzy, lust blurring everything around them as he buries his hands in Blaine's hair. He tugs and Blaine jerks, babbling, "Fuck, Kurt, fuck, you're so hot, I'm gonna- ungh." His flushed face creases and it takes Kurt a moment to realise he is making another man come in his pants.

That realisation sends his fifth orgasm crashing over him, fluid gushing out of his pussy all over both of them as he bows up off the table with a final cry and collapses back down, panting in rhythm with Blaine, heart pounding and pulse echoing in his ears.

He takes what seems like hours to come down, and when he does he hears a shower somewhere else in the room, blushing hotly as he realises all that has happened. In just over an hour, if the clock on the wall is correct, he's come five times, made someone else come and been kissed passionately by a very attractive man.

"So," someone says, and he rolls over to see Blaine coming out from behind a screen, a towel wrapped loosely around his hips and a smile on his face, "how would you feel about a second date?"