An afternoon of cookie making brings some interesting things to light.
Author's Notes: This story contains our boys first tentative steps into the world of D/s, so be warned in case that's not your cup of tea. Thanks for taking the time to read. This story contains our boys first tentative steps into the world of D/s, so be warned in case that's not your cup of tea. Thanks for taking the time to read.
They had talked about it. Of course they had. One night during a marathon of some brainless TV show they were both half-watching, with the blue, subdued glow of the television hiding most of their blushes. They had talked about their fantasies. Their kinks. They said things without looking in each other's eyes that they couldn't possibly imagine ever doing. And yet. All of the things each of them mentioned that night were things they had already thought about when they were alone in the dark.
Maybe someday.
But that was the thing. Blaine was not one for "someday". He always had the attitude of "shouldn't we be adventurous?" He had tried a million times in his mind to broach the subject with Kurt. It was something he had mentioned, but there was a big difference in talking about it while some silly reality show droned in the background, and actually acting on it.
Blaine was still mulling over his options. As fate would have it, the decision of when and where to bring up the subject was taken right out of his hands. They were in Kurt's kitchen on a Tuesday afternoon; the rest of the family scattered to the wind. Meetings, shopping, dates — specifics forgotten. All they knew was they had the entire afternoon and early evening to themselves to do whatever they wanted.
When Blaine arrived earlier, Kurt was already halfway through the baking process...cookies, if Blaine remembered correctly. He couldn't exactly recall now, because ever since walking in, he was kind of distracted. Kurt answered the door in a tank top. A tank top. This was not Kurt's usual attire. Unable to tear his eyes away, Blaine removed his shoes (because Blaine Anderson was always a gentleman), while Kurt quickly rattled off their itinerary for the afternoon. Blaine followed Kurt into the kitchen, where the mystery of Kurt's casual dress was soon solved. A much nicer button-down shirt was folded over a chair, a visible stain along the buttons where some mocha filling had been spilled. Kurt obviously didn't have time to run upstairs and change, and so just continued baking in his undershirt. Blaine wanted to write a thank you note to the company that made the mocha filling.
"Can you keep an eye on the cookies while I run upstairs for my iPOD?" Kurt said over his shoulder as he left the kitchen. Music was a must in their relationship, a constant background soundtrack to their times together, and cookie baking was no exception. Blaine quickly washed his hands, preparing to help Kurt when he returned. He leaned back against the counter, daydreaming about Kurt in that damn shirt when he smelled it. Something was burning. Oh no. He glanced over to see a small plume of black smoke escaping the hot oven. Panicking, he grabbed for the hot pads, knocking one off the counter out of reach, and dashed across the kitchen floor, skidding in his socked feet. He came to an abrupt halt in front of the stove. Just as he was about to rescue what was left of the burning cookies, the smoke alarm began to sound in the hallway. Kurt came running downstairs, wide-eyed, also skidding into the kitchen. Blaine realized he would need another hot pad to handle the cookie sheet, and without thinking about pleasantries, said in a loud, commanding voice over his shoulder, "Kurt! Bring me another hot pad! Now!"...He never used such a clipped, authoritative voice with his boyfriend...Blaine Anderson, in addition to being a gentleman, was also very polite and soft-spoken around others. Without turning around, he attempted to balance the cookie sheet away from the flames and with his free arm, reached behind himself to grab the hot pad that he knew Kurt would be handing him. But, he was greeted with empty air. He wiggled his fingers and said again, "KURT!" And again, nothing. Gritting his teeth and mentally preparing himself for a second degree burn on his hand, he flung the cookie sheet on top of the stove, slamming the door against the flames, and reaching up to turn the oven off. After checking to make sure the flames were out, he glanced behind him to find Kurt standing slack-jawed in the entry-way, staring at Blaine as if in shock. Blaine's voice softened, "Kurt, Honey?"...and Kurt shook himself as if from a dream, muttering, "Sorry".
Blaine was about to ask if Kurt was okay, when he noticed it. Although he and Kurt hadn't been dating all that long, he knew this boy. He knew all of his smiles, his frowns, and he could tell a good day from a bad day in the inflection of a single word across a phone line. So, it wasn't a stretch to see that something was going on with him. Kurt seemed a little breathless, Blaine could see the rise and fall of his chest under the thin material of the tank top, a blush was creeping up from the rounded neck of his shirt, and his gaze seemed to be frozen somewhere around Blaine's kneecaps. In the split second before Blaine was preparing to ask again if Kurt was alright, he mentally replayed what had just happened. True, it was a chaotic few seconds, but he had seen Kurt handle much more stress than that at any given moment. No, it wasn't that. Sure, he had snapped at him, which he hadn't meant to do, it had just come out under stress, his un-dapper facade, for once, showing a tiny crack. He furrowed his brow as he thought about it. And then he looked at Kurt more intently, taking a half step toward the counter, but turning to face Kurt fully. He had a theory. And he was going to see if he was right.
Trying to emulate the same tone and pitch he had used before without the frantic edge to it, he spoke very quietly, but forcefully. "Kurt, come here please". Even though he used the word 'please' which to anyone listening might indicate a request, the tone he used left no room for argument. Kurt's breath hitched, the blush moving higher, and Blaine instantly knew. Huh...well this is interesting...
It took a few seconds for Kurt to react, then he shuffled over to the counter where Blaine was standing, turning his back to, but not quite touching the countertop. His gaze still had yet to meet Blaine's, and he seemed almost ashamed of his reaction. Well, we can't have that, Blaine thought to himself. Moving another half step and bringing himself even closer to Kurt, facing him fully, he slowly and deliberately placed his hands on the counter on either side of Kurt, loosely bracketing him between his arms. He then let the tension out of his elbows, relaxing into Kurt's space, at the same time that Kurt also relaxed, leaning his backside fully against the countertop, letting his body sink a bit until he was eye to eye with Blaine. Now Blaine could really hear Kurt's labored breathing. He was trying to hide it, but, again, Blaine knew every noise this boy made, heavy breathing being one of his favorites.
As he tried to calm his growing excitement, he took a moment to gather his thoughts. Taking his eyes off Kurt for a moment, making sure once more that no more disasters were imminent, he noticed the bowl of mocha sitting beside the sink. This was the filling Kurt had used for the cookies, and there was just a tiny bit left in the bowl. Blaine hooked a finger over the lip of the bowl, dragging it across the counter toward them. Then, using that same finger, he placed it under Kurt's chin, lifting it just a little to bring the boy's eyes into view. Those eyes. He never had any trouble getting lost in them. He knew every color, and what each different tone and hue meant. Right now, they were a deeper green, pupils dilated, and had almost a questioning look in them. Blaine had no idea what he was doing, where this was headed. But he knew that it was something Kurt had mentioned that night a week or so ago, and he knew that it had taken a lot of courage for Kurt to open up and express to Blaine something that he'd been curious about.
He and Kurt were each other's firsts in so many ways. All of the physical things they had shared had come second. Before that, was the friendship that in the beginning was so new to both of them. They had had friendships, of course, but when they met each other, it was different. Finally having someone they could just be themselves around was so amazing, and even now, after they'd shared so many other firsts since then, the friendship was the basis of everything. The fact that they could be themselves, be honest, and know they wouldn't be judged. Kurt had a tendency to hide — Blaine had a tendency to overshare. Kurt wanted to be in control — Blaine usually just let things happen around him, content to roll with the punches. Blaine knew it would be difficult for Kurt to get to a point where he could be vulnerable and open, where he could give up that control he always held onto so, so tightly. But, there was something else Kurt knew about Blaine (and that Blaine knew about himself), and that was this: It was almost as if Blaine was wired on a DNA level to be there for Kurt. He never seemed to feel as at peace and at home as he did when he was protecting and taking care of Kurt, it made him feel important, and necessary, and loved. So, even though he had no earthly idea how to proceed, he wanted to be there for Kurt, to give him what he wanted. Taking a deep breath, he took the plunge.
"Kurt?" He said again, using the same voice as before, eyes unwavering on Kurt's face, watching for the slightest hesitancy there.
"Y-Yes?" Kurt responded, still breathless, but sounding like he was getting it more under control.
Blaine's eyes continued to bore into Kurt's as he stretched his hand over to the bowl and swiped two fingers through the remnants of the mocha on the bottom. It was the consistency of a thick pudding, and it smelled and looked delicious. Blaine was momentarily sad that the cookies that were going to be surrounding this delicious filling were now a charred mess on the cookie sheet. He slowly brought his fingers over between he and Kurt, holding them at chin-level. A single drop of mocha began to gather weight at the end of his finger, threatening to drop off, and Kurt started to reach for a towel to catch it before gravity did its job.
Blaine spoke a single word. "No."
Kurt's eyes darted up to him and away from his chocolate-covered fingers. "No? But Blaine, it's going to—"
"I. Said. No." Blaine reiterated. Kurt's mouth snapped closed with a clack of his teeth, eyes widening and his almost-back-under-control breathing stuttering again. Blaine's voice was so quiet. He had used this voice on Kurt many times. But this was different. It was stronger, firmer. Kurt sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and raised one eyebrow almost imperceptibly. Blaine began to speak again.
"I seem to have gotten some of your delicious-looking mocha all over my fingers, and that just won't do. I want you to lick it off. Don't leave a drop, Kurt. I want these fingers to come out of your mouth as clean as they were before."
Kurt's bottom lip withdrew from between his teeth. He started to bring his hand up to Blaine's wrist to steady it and direct it toward his mouth. But Blaine had other ideas.
"Uh unh. Stand still and I'll bring it to you. Keep your hands where they are, Kurt. You don't get to move a muscle, except that pretty little mouth of yours."
Kurt wasn't watching Blaine's fingers....his eyes were on Blaine's face. As much as he tried to school his expression into one of complete control, Blaine knew that Kurt could see it. He couldn't stop the rush of blood he felt rising on his cheeks, the way he was fighting for control of his breathing (and succeeding more than Kurt was at the moment), his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He looked at Kurt so intensely, trying to see if this was what he wanted, silently asking. And as was always the way with them, Kurt seemed to know instinctively.
Slowly releasing his jaw and opening his lips, Kurt placed his tongue just on the inside of his lower teeth so Blaine could see it, and waited. And waited. And waited. Blaine was mesmerized, both by Kurt's sheer sex appeal, and his complete trust in Blaine. Sometimes it completely staggered Blaine how much Kurt trusted him. Blaine moved his fingers toward that waiting mouth, trying to control the slight tremble he felt, but wasn't sure Kurt could detect. He slid his two fingers inside of Kurt's mouth, grazing the bottom lip on the way in, a small dollop of mocha showing where the fingers disappeared into Kurt's mouth. He felt it when Kurt's tongue wrapped around his fingertips, velvety soft, but the muscle strong. With a small sigh of satisfaction, Kurt began doing what he was told. His eyes fluttered shut and he just let himself enjoy it. All of Blaine's worries that he might look foolish was instantly blown away in the knowledge that this was Kurt he was sharing this new thing with. Kurt moved his tongue over and around Blaine's index and middle finger, lapping slowly and deliberately, sliding between the knuckles and up around the nailbed. And then. Well, then Kurt turned on the suction.
Blaine's knees almost buckled, and if it weren't for the grip he still had on the counter with his free hand, he surely would have been on the tile floor. He quickly got himself back under some semblance of control, because this was about Kurt after all, and cleared his throat before he spoke again.
"That's it, Kurt....you will clean every drop, don't leave a mess. You're such a good boy, Kurt."
Kurt seemed to thrill at that. After many moments of Kurt giving the chocolate covered fingers his full attention, Blaine began to pull them out of Kurt's mouth, fighting the suction that Kurt had built up, a few seconds of tug-of-war and friction ended with Blaine's fingers sliding out, glistening and clean.
"Very nice, Kurt....you did so well, I think you deserve some more". Kurt's lips stretched into a small smile, seemingly loving the praise, obviously eager to please Blaine.
Blaine reached for the bowl, eyes once again on Kurt.
And in the way of things — the way that things are never quite as sexy as we plan, never quite as hot as they are in the movies — Blaine misjudged the distance and sent the bowl twirling off the counter. It struck the floor with a clatter, the little amount of pudding left in the bowl landing on the floor beside the still-spinning bowl. Kurt started to giggle, Blaine could almost see it bubbling up inside of him, but he wasn't ready to turn loose of the control he had. He turned his attention back to Kurt, eyes glinting with determination. Kurt looked up from the floor and was trapped in that gaze, the laughter that was threatening to escape dying in his throat.
"Well, we've made a mess haven't we, Kurt?" Blaine's powerful voice said quietly. The volume of Blaine's voice was so low, but it sent a visible shiver through Kurt's upper body.
"You're going to clean it up...", and he reached behind Kurt to grab the nearest dishtowel, bringing it between their bodies and placing it in Kurt's waiting hand. Kurt started to put his hands on Blaine's chest to move him back a step so he could bend his knees and get to the spill, but then he stopped, his hands just hovering above Blaine's shirt. He met Blaine's eyes again, a mischievous gleam sparking in Kurt's meeting the harsh glare of Blaine's unwavering stare, and without any free space between them, began to bend his knees and shimmy to the floor in the small space provided between his body and Blaine's. The lower he got, the further up his eyes had to move, because they never left Blaine's. Now it was Blaine's turn to lose his breath. Kurt looked so damn beautiful like that, practically slithering down, his body inches from his own, so close he could feel the heat radiating between them. It seemed to happen in slow motion. The distance to the floor must've been impossibly far away, Blaine thought, because it took Kurt a really long time to get there. Once there, on his knees, he stared up at Blaine, with long eyelashes, licking his rosy lips, still a hint of color in his cheeks. Blaine managed a few coherent thoughts at the end.
This Kurt was dangerous.
This Kurt was not so easily dominated.
This Kurt was everything he had ever wanted.
And then Kurt managed to completely unhinge his boyfriend. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Sir, while I'm down here?"
Had he heard his boyfriend correctly? It was difficult what with the blood rushing in his ears the way it was. Kurt was still in the same position on his knees, lips slightly parted, ghost of a smile there, gaze upturned, lashes of spiky black framing eyes glowing with mischief. Blaine swallowed audibly, tried to form a coherent word...and then swallowed again.
"Um, Kurt?" It came out in a half-squeak, and he almost winced in embarrassment. Get it together, Blaine.
"Yes Sir?" Kurt obediently answered, eyes unwavering, voice steady, just a little lower pitched than usual.
Damn him, thought Blaine. I'm the one who started this experiment and I should be more in control. However, it ought to be illegal to look that hot, and Kurt Hummel on his knees? I'm only human for Christ's sake.
He mentally shook himself. He could do this. He assumed that with Kurt's reaction a few moments ago that he had wanted Blaine to take control. Kurt's body language, his breathing, everything in his demeanor was responding to it. Blaine would do his level-best to continue. He took a moment, tilting his head back, tearing his eyes away just for a moment to gather himself. The ceiling fan was slowly, lazily spinning above them, casting shadows on the cabinets, light and dark, light and dark. Blaine followed it with his eyes, counting to ten, once and then again. When he felt like he had a grasp — albeit a tenuous one — on the situation, he slowly lowered his head and his eyes found Kurt's once more, this time with more steel in his gaze.
Kurt had moved his body forward just a bit, still up on his knees, resting his backside on his ankles, hands splayed open and relaxed on his own thighs, as if waiting for further instructions. The look on his face showed anticipation, excitement, and a total willingness for whatever Blaine had in mind.
Blaine began again, this time his tone more sure. "Yes Kurt, I definitely have an idea of something you could take care of while you're down there."
Kurt's breath escaped his body in a rush, with the words following on the exhale, "Yes Sir, anything. Tell me what I can do to please you."
Blaine's mind kicked into overdrive. So many thoughts hit him at once. The rush of heat started at his ears and moved swiftly down his body. Overwhelmed, he let his eyes slip closed again, and mentally sorted through them. They flickered like a slideshow on the backside of his darkened eyelids...various mental images of his boy on his knees, his boy bent over the kitchen counter, his boy flat on his back in Blaine's soft, empty bed. These rapidly changing pictures were part of a photo album that Blaine kept tucked away in his mind and flipped through when he lay in the dark alone. From the time he and Kurt had first kissed, the album had been growing. Starting with simple pictures of just being with Kurt, laying in bed beside him, being able to touch his skin, then as they became more familiar with each other, the pictures changed to more suggestive ones, Kurt's hands on him, Kurt's lips on him, Kurt's body pressing him into the mattress, and they had accumulated. Many of the pictures were fantasies already fulfilled. And many of them lately were merely ideas of things that maybe one day ~ one day ~ he might be brave enough to talk about with Kurt.
And here was his chance to pull a picture out of that album and have it play out right here in front of him. Empty kitchen. Willing boys. The possibilities made him lightheaded and dizzy.
Flip, flip, flip went the fantasies in his head, all in the span of a few seconds. Once he felt he was ready, he opened his eyes again and looked toward the floor. Kurt remained still, gazing up at him as if he was happy to wait, the very picture of wide-eyed, quiet anticipation. Kurt had always had to be the patient one, waiting for him in many ways since they'd met. Waiting for Blaine to see things. Kurt did this seemingly without frustration, with a confident air about him, as if he knew that Blaine would eventually get there. And when Blaine did, Kurt never made him feel bad about it, aside from a few playful comments from time to time. It was this patience and limitless belief in their relationship that never failed to astound Blaine. He had been unsure of so many things in his life, but this young man in front of him was sure enough for both of them. He could always count on Kurt to nudge him when he needed it, lovingly and sweetly, guiding him without leading him. He had waited for Blaine to get to the same place in his head and his heart that Kurt had been from the very beginning. Waited for Blaine to see that they could be wonderful together, that they could be everything together. That they didn't have to give up their friendship to become something more, that it wasn't a trade-off, but an upgrade. To Blaine, this realization had been like a bolt out of the blue — but to Kurt, it simply was. An unwavering knowing.
Blaine's lips turned up in the smallest of smiles, gazing at this amazing person in front of him. No fantasy in the world could make his knees go weak faster than the reality of just getting lost in those eyes. Kurt raised his hands and placed them gently, feather-soft, on Blaine's legs, just above the kneecaps, fingers splayed over the tight muscles of his thighs, stretched taut underneath the fabric of his jeans. Even though the touch was soft and barely there, Blaine's sharp intake of breath echoed through the quiet kitchen.
...Nudge....
"Perhaps Sir would like me to remove his belt?"
Oh this just kept getting better and better. And Blaine's pants, frankly, kept getting tighter and tighter. It was no surprise. Even though he could hear the blood rushing in his ears, he knew there had to be very little left in the upper half of his body, because the lower half was throbbing like he had a bass drum located somewhere around his lower back. He should have been embarrassed, he supposed. He always tried to be in control of himself, even if he was incredibly turned on, he always tried to be discreet and not be lewd about it. But, today seemed to be all about breaking boundaries and moving into new territory. He felt so lightheaded and removed from it, so surreal, as if he were watching from above. Things like this just didn't happen in real life, did they?
Apparently they did. And apparently it was happening right now in front of him. And the best part of all was it was happening with Kurt. The person he felt closest to on this earth. He needed to stop being so worried that everything he said would come out sounding ridiculous and just embrace the situation for once and for all. Man up, and dominate his boyfriend. It sounded so strange in his head.
Finally he spoke.
"As much as I like the view of you on your knees Kurt, I have something I need you to help me with ... up here. Stand up, Kurt."
Blaine saw the change in Kurt immediately. His boyfriend was trying very hard to hide his surprised expression, but It was obvious that he thought he done something to displease Blaine.
There had been conversations in the past between them, some took place before they were dating and a few afterward in which Kurt had voiced his insecurities, his awkwardness, his embarrassment about feeling sexy. The infamous talk they had after the performance for the Crawford Country Day girls had been hard on both of them. Blaine couldn't believe that Kurt didn't realize it. He was sexiest when he wasn't trying. Kurt didn't realize that just the small movements of his eyes and lips, the way he smirked, the small crinkling of his nose were beyond stimulating for Blaine. One of those moments came right after they had become a couple when Kurt had innocently licked an envelope, and Blaine had to get up and leave the room before he embarrassed himself. And yet, Kurt still worried that he looked gawky and foolish.
Blaine noticed the two spots of color forming high on Kurt's cheekbones as he got his feet back underneath him and rose from the floor. Blaine didn't move an inch. Kurt still had to practically slither back up his body, there was so little space between them. He kept his eyes trained somewhere around Blaine's collarbone, afraid to look into his boyfriend's eyes, as if afraid to see amusement there, or worse, disappointment. Visibly steeling himself, he dragged his gaze up Blaine's throat, to his chin, then finally to his eyes. Blaine made sure to put every bit of emotion into his own eyes that he could, he wanted to show Kurt what he was doing to him. Blaine's pupils were dilated, very little of the tea-color visible. Blaine's skin was flushed, the tips of his ears were a lovely dusky pink. There was a small smile, but not one of ridicule, it was of total adoration.
"I, um, what I mean is...I would like it very much if you would take my shirt off now." Even though Blaine was trying so hard to be the dominating bad-ass that he had imagined so many times in his mind, it was nearly impossible for him to drop his dapper attitude, especially in the face of the young man before him. His number one priority had always been for Kurt to know how cherished he was, how absolutely worshipped, and Blaine wasn't sure how to get that point across and still fulfill this fantasy they both had. But, as in everything else that had happened between them, they would figure this out together.
"God Blaine...." it was a whisper. Kurt caught himself and took a breath...."I mean, of course, Sir, yes. Yes, I will, it would please me so much to— to do that for you".
They both kept slipping in and out of these characters they had created, neither one of them wanting to relinquish the roleplay. Even though it was a little bit frightening, a little bit embarrassing, the overruling factor was it was erotic and naughty and something they had both fantasized about.
Kurt licked his lips, and set to work. Blaine's shirt that day was just a simple, short-sleeved, button-up-the-front light blue cotton fabric. Nothing special, nothing elaborate. But Kurt treated his task as if he was handling fine Chinese silk. Kurt undid each and every button as if he was undressing something breakable and precious, and each button revealed one more inch of Blaine's skin. So much darker than Kurt's, a sprinkling of chest hair and a few strategically placed freckles. Kurt made a move as if to lean forward, licking his lips as he went, and then catching himself and straightening back up. His knuckles occasionally brushed Blaine's skin as he worked down the row of buttons, and he could see Blaine's muscles twitch and jump. I wonder if he realizes what he's doing to me, Blaine thought. Kurt Hummel, the boy who doubts his ability to drive men wild, is so insanely hot.
Once all the buttons had been freed, Kurt rested his hands lightly on Blaine's waistband, the backs of his knuckles lightly touching the area just over Blaine's hip bones. Then lazily dragged his hands up toward the top of Blaine's body, knuckles lightly hovering over skin, barely grazing, backs of fingers flat against Blaine's torso, nails scraping in their wake, so lightly it made Blaine shiver and a tiny, low moan rumbled in his chest. Kurt slid his hands under the collar of Blaine's simple shirt, and pushed it off his shoulders, catching it in one hand as it fell down Blaine's back and turning slightly to place it on the counter behind him.
When Kurt had turned back to face Blaine, the instructions continued.
"Now you may remove my belt. But do it slowly. I'll be watching you, because I love your hands. The way they move, your fingers are so long Love the way they look on my skin."
Kurt's face beamed with the praise he was receiving. He brought his fingers to rest on the brown leather of Blaine's belt, sliding them inward toward the buckle. He dropped his eyes to the task at hand, leather sliding on leather, making the smallest of sounds as he worked. Slowly, slowly, finally hearing the soft clank of the buckle as it was freed, both ends hanging loosely on the very tops of Blaine's thighs. Kurt's hands stayed poised over the button and fly now, trembling slightly, eyes moving to Blaine's crotch, the outline of his erection very plain through the straining denim. He awaited further instructions.
"That's perfect, now the button and fly if you please."
Kurt's fingers moved forward quickly to comply with Blaine's latest command.
"Kurt". Blaine spoke the word shortly, accenting the "T" at the end with the clack of tongue on teeth.
The hands on his waist froze, Kurt's shoulders tensing just the slightest bit.
"Slowly sweetheart, remember?"
Kurt nodded quickly and mutely.
He returned to his task, sliding the first two fingers over the top of the waistband, maneuvering the button from it's hole, and drawing in a breath. There, in the inch-wide opening was revealed a trail of dark hair disappearing into the waistband of Blaine's black boxer briefs. Kurt licked his lips, carefully pinching the zipper pull between his thumb and forefinger, and letting his eyelids fall closed a bit. He slowly started to slide it down, the sound almost deafening in the quiet kitchen, metal on metal, separating, opening, freeing.
As the tension on the front of his jeans was lessened, Blaine let out a breath, the pressure relieved somewhat. Kurt let go of the zipper and removed his hands completely, bending his arms at the elbow and placing his hands behind him on the counter, leaning back in the small space provided to take a good, long look at his boyfriend, now shirtless, pants unbuttoned and unzipped...
Blaine also took in the sight before him. His boyfriend leaning back against the counter, white tank top stretched across his chest, broadened by the position of his arms behind him, breaths heaving, the flush having spread from his ears down his neck and underneath the scoop collar of the top. Blaine wanted to lick every inch of that pinkish color, suck and lick and bite it until it turned an angry red. His mouth watered with the feeling coming over him, almost frightening him in its intensity. He felt like he was on the cusp of something, this new thing they were playing at. Forgetting for the moment about what the next step should be, what the "right" thing to do was, he just let go. He was in control, no mistake about that, but he just let his inhibitions go in that moment. The look on Kurt's face gave him permission. If he was on the cusp, then Kurt was there too, he could tell that Kurt realized the importance of this moment as well. They would tumble over together.
"Turn around, Kurt. Hands on the counter in front of you. Keep them there. No moving unless I say". Kurt turned immediately, silent, but speaking volumes in his body language. He was so open to this, giving Blaine the freedom to continue down this path. Blaine moved forward in the small space between them, placing a socked foot between Kurt's and spreading his legs open just a bit, wanting Kurt down at his level, putting that sweet neck right in line with Blaine's vision. He wanted his mouth there, and he didn't want to stretch to do it. Flush up against Kurt's back now, he could feel his boyfriend's panting breath, the heat coming off his body. Blaine brought his mouth down now to the tendon between Kurt's ear and his shoulder, not biting — not yet — but just holding his mouth open, blowing hot air across the light sheen of sweat there. One breath, then another. He could feel Kurt begin to get restless, as if he needed more.
"Do you know how much I adore your neck, Kurt?" Blaine's words vibrated off of Kurt's skin, he was so close. "Sometimes it's the most innocent things that drive me insane. When you laugh and toss your head back, or when you're fixing your hair in the mirror sometimes, the way it's so long and lovely." Blaine finally brought his lips down to the skin, the long-awaited contact making Kurt gasp, his fingers flexing on the countertop. Blaine noticed the spasm of Kurt's hand and smiled to himself as he began to slowly kiss the skin of Kurt's neck. "I always want my mouth here, sweetheart. Want to bite down so gently here, feel your heartbeat under my tongue, want to suck and nibble, make the skin not so pale anymore, want to mark you, so everyone can see that you're mine."
"Blaine....please....yes...can you? I want you to..."
Blaine opened his mouth wider over Kurt's pale neck, hot, wet kisses turning into something harder and hotter, something more possessive, teeth scraping and pulling back, working the flesh over and over as Kurt came undone. Blaine pressed forward harder into Kurt's body, his hips beginning to move almost imperceptibly, his belt buckle jingling with the small movements. Kurt pressed back against him, and even though Blaine had told him not to move, he supposed this was okay. Bringing his arms up alongside Kurt's ribs, Blaine stretched out until his hands were over Kurt's on the counter, just laying his fingers on top of Kurt's...wanting to be connected in as many spots as possible. He could see Kurt fighting the urge to flip his hands over and entwine their fingers, but Blaine pushed down harder with his palms, keeping Kurt there, holding him with just the smallest bit of pressure. He moved his mouth up toward Kurt's ear now, laving his neck with his tongue, nibbling and sucking all along the way, loving the taste of salt and sweat and his boy.
His hips began to move with more purpose now. This was all so new to them, and it was going to be difficult to keep up this level of intensity for long. The novelty of this power play between them was so dizzying, Blaine felt almost drunk with it. His hips found a teasing, rocking rhythm, as he latched onto Kurt's earlobe with this teeth, then loosening the bite, he spoke again.
"Feel how hard I am for you, sweetheart? God, Kurt, want you so much.." His breath ghosted across Kurt's sensitive ear, and he could feel Kurt beginning to rock with him, just the smallest of movements, as if he was afraid of getting reprimanded. At this point, Blaine was too far gone to be concerned about Kurt breaking the rules. "Your ass feels so amazing, Kurt, grinding against my cock, making me ache. I should mark you there as well, would you like that? Want to come all over your bare ass, mark you with it, fucking paint your skin with it." Blaine was panting now, hips moving faster, pushing down on Kurt's hands until his wrists were red. Kurt was moving between Blaine's ass and the counter, his cock getting some friction, but not nearly enough.
Blaine knew, even in the blissed out state he was moving toward, that the words he was saying were all true, these were things he wanted, and he felt pretty sure that Kurt would be willing, but they were so new to this, hadn't even been naked in front of each other yet, and he felt like they had pushed enough boundaries for the day. So he refrained from what he wanted, he held back from just yanking Kurt's pants down around his ankles, and then doing the same with his own, and stroking himself until Kurt was covered with him. He could picture it, the pale flesh covered with his come, pearly streaks of it dripping down Kurt's back and thighs. The mere thought of that was pushing him dangerously close to the edge.
"Kurt, do you think you can come like this? Do you need to touch yourself?" He panted against the shell of Kurt's ear.
"Can you touch me? I mean, not....just....over my pants, I mean. I need your hand, please Sir, please." Kurt's voice so high, almost whining.
"God Kurt, of course...such a good boy for me....so good..." Blaine whispered. He moved his hands off of Kurt's, the uncovered skin going from bright red to pink when Blaine let off the pressure. Blaine wrapped one arm around Kurt's waist and pulled him back against himself, so that he could slide his other hand between Kurt's crotch and the counter.
"You ready, baby?" Blaine murmured. Kurt nodded and whimpered "Yes, now, please". Blaine slid his hand down from the waistband of Kurt's pants, his palm fitting just right over the bulge there. He could feel Kurt throbbing against his hand, and he flexed his fingers around the length of him and tightened his grip just slightly. Kurt moaned and tilted his head back against Blaine's shoulder, eyes squeezed shut, mouth parted, and when Blaine saw that, he was done for. He began to grind his hips even harder now, alternating from going up on his tiptoes to bending his knees, increasing the delicious friction. The hand not on Kurt's cock moved up toward Kurt's chest. Fingers grazing the peaked nipples through the thin cotton fabric of the tank top. It was too much sensation for both of them, Blaine was actually surprised they had lasted this long. Full on panting now, Blaine whispered "Yeah...ohgod..." His hips stuttered once, twice against Kurt's, and then he gripped Kurt's cock harder as he began to come, his teeth biting down on Kurt's neck.. Kurt followed him a few seconds later, Blaine's name coming out on a moan, and then collapsing forward on the counter, Blaine still flush up against him, both of them bent at the waist, hot quick breaths in the small space between them, ears ringing.
Blaine registered the stillness now. The ceiling fan the only sound other than two boys trying to find their breath — and their footing. He wondered to himself if this was where it would get awkward. If this was where things would be odd and stammering and weird. He was still running this over in his head when he heard Kurt sigh deeply underneath him. Blaine cleared his throat, and Kurt turned his head to look at his boyfriend. Their eyes so close, Kurt's shining and Blaine's a little questioning.
"Well that was..." Kurt started.
"That escalated quickly..." Blaine said, a slight touch of laughter in his voice.
"mmhmmm...." Kurt's mouth turned up until he was sporting his full-out Hummel smirk. "You were amazing, Blaine...THAT was amazing.....next time can I be the boss?"