So. I'm having fun doing this neato thing called Klaine Madness ('cause it's March, okay?!) over on the ElJay'last week I had to write a specific location and I was assigned Field of FREAKING Lilacs. After I stopped giggling to myself (a lot), I got my shit together and wrote this lil' ditty. The rules of the game stipulate that the fics cannot be over 1k'have a bite, okay? I won last week so I'm movin' on to word insertion. I have no idea how I'm using "bobbin, inventory, phase, hell" in a story. Eep.
“Are you sure you won’t tell me where we are, Blaine? This blindfold is doing nothing for my hair, not to mention the havoc it must be wreaking on my face.”
Blaine stifles a laugh right next to Kurt’s ear, setting his skin thrumming.
He had been in a car, then obviously in long grass and now he is standing still after being told repeatedly to “duck down, no, lower, Kurt…” three or four times.
“Ok, honestly Blaine, I want to know wh-”
Instantly fingertips hush his lips, shushing him, while Blaine’s teeth tug at the bottom of his earlobe.
“Shh, Kurt, shhh. It’s okay. It’s just me and you and…use your other senses. What do you see?”
Kurt stops fighting and instead focuses on what he can sense and first notes the touches. Blaine’s fingertips resting heavy on his hips, loose swirls against fabric, gently coaxing his shirt up and away from its hold.
Blaine’s lips pressed softly against the juncture of Kurt’s neck and shoulder, tongue lightly tracing, tracing, tracing in time with his fingertips, pulling a soft, murmured ‘Blaine’ from Kurt’s open mouth.
The whispery sound of wind tangling its fingers through spring-born leaves, carrying the smell of-
“Lilacs, Blaine?” he blurts, his lips tugging up, corners of his eyes scrunching.
Blaine’s fingertips have dipped low, stealing soft caresses on silky-sweet skin, tracing hipbones and dancing dangerously close to where Kurt’s cock is already straining high against the tight muscles of his lower abdomen.
“Well,” Blaine begins; lips at his left ear, “Like this I could be anyone, right? Lilacs are anywhere and everywhere, are they not?” Kurt shivers then whimpers as Blaine’s fingers tug free and trace trails of teasing torture down the sides of his thighs and then back up the inseam of his pants, slowly, slowly, as his legs start to shake and his fingertips sneak up to Blaine’s lips.
“Please, please just-” Kurt starts and then gasps as his fingertips are gently licked, each in turn, and his fly is slowly unzipped, his head lolling back onto Blaine’s shoulders as his cock is unceremoniously exposed to the warm spring air.
“Your skin always tastes so nice,” Blaine murmurs, tugging gently at Kurt’s cock, a small wail escaping Kurt’s lips before Blaine returns to sucking on Kurt’s fingertips, his hand quickening in time to Kurt’s breathing. “Just like your cock.”
Kurt groans, grinding his hips back against Blaine and feeling him hard and straining against him before he’s turned roughly and he hears Blaine drop to his knees in front of him, realizing that-
His cock is enveloped in the hot, wet sweetness that is Blaine’s mouth, Blaine’s hand wrapped around the base, gathering wetness and firmly jerking in time, meeting his mouth at every stroke.
“OhmygodOHmygodohmyGOD, Blaine…don’t fucking stop,” Kurt begs as he slides his fingers into Blaine’s curls and gently tugs, forcing himself deeper into Blaine’s willing mouth.
His eyes are still closed behind the blindfold, nostrils filled with the sweet scent of lilac as Blaine slips one hand back to grip onto his ass and pull him closer, willing him down into his throat as Kurt grinds forward again and again, hips slip-stuttering as Blaine takes him in and he hums, his tongue pressed hot and tight against the underside of Kurt’s cock.
“YesBlaineyes, just…I can’t, just…” Kurt groans, fingers locked and hovering close and barely holding himself in check.
Blaine pulls back, lips dragging up and over the head until Kurt’s barely inside his mouth, his tongue flicking out to tease, torture, and Kurt groans and thrusts forward only to find air.
“Nuh uh,” Blaine huffs out, “Patience, beautiful.” His words are punctuated with quick tugs at Kurt’s cock, keeping him close, so close and he whines and untangles a hand from Blaine’s hair, pushing at the blindfold.
“Yes,” Blaine breathes, his tongue slick and smooth against Kurt’s cock as Kurt tugs at the fabric, pulling it off and tossing it aside before his eyes focus on Blaine on his knees, the light shaded by tall stands of lilacs surrounding their den, no prying eyes to see.
Except Kurt’s.
Locked on Blaine’s.
He swallows him once more in earnest, tugging in breath after breath as Kurt mutters and begs, his balls drawing up and his cock spilling out, hot and deep into Blaine’s throat as he fumbles with his own zipper and is free, tugging twice and groaning his release into the grass at Kurt’s feet.
Blaine tucks him back in and zips him back up, leaning heavily on Kurt’s thigh as Kurt begins to giggle, his breathing still shallow, his laughter sweet cadence punctuating the stillness.
Blaine laughs, too, and pulls himself together as Kurt slips forward and they both fall breathless onto the quilt awaiting them, picnic basket perched precariously on a log nearby.
Blaine finds himself with a lapful of Kurt - sinewy muscle all languid and soft, warm skin against skin as Kurt’s cheek rests on his own.
“Lilacs, Blaine? Really?” Kurt laughs, lips close to Blaine’s ear, smile plastered to his face.
Blaine pulls back enough to search Kurt’s eyes as he speaks.
“Bucket list number 5a: not Taylor Lautner but certainly relations and most definitely lilacs?” he purrs; hoping, hoping.
Kurt’s eyes darken, his fingers tug gently at the hair at the base of Blaine’s neck. He pulls his legs free and maneuvers himself over Blaine, straddling, claiming.
“I didn’t know what to wish for then,” Kurt bites out, pushing Blaine back onto the quilt as he angles his hips down, slotting them together, “But I do now…and the reality is worth 100 times the fantasy. Fuck. Taylor. Lautner.” he growls, nipping at Blaine’s jaw.
“I thought you were going to fuck me,” comes the reply, low and clear, an invitation.
Blaine smirks up at him and Kurt pounces, their laughter piercing the lilac stand and rolling out over the empty field.
5a.
Check.