Author: Regala Electra
Spoilers: S2, Sexy
Warning: Sexual Content, Language
Word Count: 1,646
Summary: In which Blaine is willing to suffer anything so long as Kurt keeps on kissing him.
Author’s Notes: I have never been happier to have a fic jossed. This is a deleted scene from an upcoming story Cocksure that doesn’t need to be included because guess what—Kurt and Blaine kissing?—it’s canon, bitches. Originally this bit was under 300 words, basically a joke about lip plumper and its hilarious effects on a certain Blaine Anderson, then I kept writing this morning. Oh man, I have too much fun writing Blaine.
The day he and Kurt take that tentative step past their friendship changes everything, a kiss that is ridiculously sweet as it is entirely accidental.
"Sorry, I meant to—your cheek—you moved your face! Really, Blaine, I didn’t—"
Blaine could only stare at him in stunned silence. Then he kissed Kurt, this time for real, no claim of innocent mistake possible, painstakingly slow. And it was like—sparks. Tingling on his lips. Then it started to hurt.
"Are you wearing lip plumper?"
"Oh, yes, I am, actually. I got a free sample from Sephora. I wanted to try it out. Um. Sorry?"
"You don't need it," Blaine whispers and strange tingling be damned, he keeps kissing Kurt until his lips are numb and soon his tongue follows this very welcome catatonic state of affairs. Later he finds out that's a side effect of the plumper and logically he knows he shouldn’t have kept on kissing Kurt but then that would mean that he wouldn’t be kissing Kurt.
Kurt doesn't wear the poisonous plumper of doom anymore after that. But he does keep kissing Blaine and that is very, very awesome.
In fact, save for lip balm necessary for up-keep there aren’t any more disasters of that sort. Kurt's lips are apparently delicate and if Blaine hasn't shaved properly on a night when they decide to basically mouth-fuck each other using lips and tongues, well Kurt’s mouth gets all rough and red.
Maybe sometimes Blaine deliberately misses a spot on his jaw just so he can see the rise of color around Kurt’s lips but since that apparently screws up Kurt's skin regime, he has to be careful as the thought of no more kissing is too depressing to contemplate and what was he saying? Oh yeah, he loves kissing Kurt and now since the lip plumper incident, there's been no danger of anything weird getting into Blaine's mouth.
Teeth clacking, however, despite being kind of hot when Kurt’s moaning so loudly as Blaine curls his hand around the back of Kurt’s head, ends with a trip to the dentist when Blaine chips his tooth. It’s scheduled in the early morning so Blaine arrives to school later than usual.
“Only you would chip your tooth kissing me,” Kurt says the next day, a fond sigh as he feebly attempts to regain dignity, smoothing down Blaine’s tie. He does this more now, touching Blaine without prompting and it’s wonderful but not so much when there’s a ban on doing the sort of touching Blaine would prefer.
“We can’t kiss,” Blaine says morosely, staring at Kurt’s mouth and wondering how exactly he’s going to wait until they can. “I have to wait for the compound to set or it might get worse. And I don’t want to explain to my parents how I managed to chip my tooth twice in two days.”
There’s this thing Kurt does sometimes that drives Blaine absolutely wild. It’s, well maybe it’s a new thing or it’s been there all along only Blaine simply didn’t notice it before. Kurt thinks an awful lot and a lot of those things play across his face and oh, if only Blaine could read Kurt’s face language fluently because the captured glimpses he receives are kind of, well, incredible.
“What is it, Kurt?”
“I was,” Kurt bites his lip, his wonderful totally banned from Blaine’s mouth lip, “thinking.”
“Thinking is good,” Blaine says, because he is desperate at this point to get an answer and dramatically falling to his knees and begging might only make Kurt laugh at him and he so doesn’t want to do that. Though he may put it under an emergency option if need be.
“Sometimes,” Kurt says, doing that thing where he’s not going to let Blaine in right away because he’s worried. Blaine’s reaction to that is purely instinctual, grabbing for Kurt’s hand, trying to steady both himself and Kurt, not letting Kurt’s natural need for deflection allow whatever possibly wonderful thought be pushed aside.
“Hey,” is all Blaine says, stroking the sweet spot of Kurt’s palm, enjoying Kurt’s shudder. He smiles a little, biting on the side of his tongue to keep himself from doing something stupid like reaching towards Kurt’s mouth and getting to at least trace the outline’s of Kurt’s lips because that way lies danger.
“I can still kiss,” Kurt says very quickly, under his breath, purposely not looking at Blaine.
“I don’t have to kiss your mouth. But I can still kiss you.” Kurt exhales harshly, putting on a brave front before he continues. “I could kiss you anywhere.”
Oh. That. They haven’t really gone there and even discussed it, not that Blaine’s complaining because look, he’s not an idiot. (Or, he’s not a complete idiot.) If he’s willing to risk toxic lip plumpers and minor dental emergencies for Kurt, it’s not like he hasn’t imagined the steps further than what they’ve been doing, but for Kurt to say that, it’s well, mind-blowing. The good kind of mind-blowing.
Blaine needs to stop thinking about blowing because now he’s starting to just imagine what one word actually means. Is it possible to suffer a minor stroke when your boyfriend implies kissing you somewhere besides your mouth? Because Blaine’s pretty sure he’s at least experiencing a slight short-circuit in his brain.
He thinks he says something audible but he has no clue what exactly it is, only that it makes Kurt ease up, letting go of Blaine’s hand.
Okay? Did Blaine just screw this up? Did he stupidly say that he is not down for kissing of the non-mouth variety? Blaine is a fool and doomed to a severe lack of Kurt’s mouth if he can’t fix this.
“I want you to do whatever you want,” Blaine says in a rush, words spilling out before something stupid happens, like his brain catches up. “Kurt, you have me, whatever way you want, I mean it, so like, I’m sorry if you think I don’t because I didn’t say it before and I really, really want—”
Kurt nuzzles his nose. Nuzzles it, his mouth dangerously close to Blaine’s—oh god, Blaine could almost breathe and Kurt would be right there—before he moves away. His fingertips rest on Blaine’s bottom lip, careful not to get close to his repaired incisor, tracing the curve.
“Pretty sure your response of 'ugh do it' was enough for me to understand what you meant,” Kurt says and Blaine really needs to stop doubting himself because Kurt so gets him. “Now. Where to start?”
“Please,” Blaine says, a little desperate. “I’m good with anywhere.”
If Kurt’s hands are shaking when he loosens Blaine’s tie and opens the top button of his shirt, there’s no way to tell because maybe Blaine’s shaking a little, too. His vision’s gone funny because this is happening, not a fantasy that he half-buried under a neon blinking Do Not Think Sexy Thoughts About Your Best Friend sign. But where X marks the spot there, those thoughts indeed begin spilling out the moment Kurt’s mouth finds something clearly marked on Blaine’s skin, this place where neck meets shoulder and oh yes, that right there, that’s a discovery all right.
His knees go weak as Kurt’s lips take a surprise route up north and by the time Kurt’s gotten acquainted with the juncture between Blaine’s throat and jaw, that’s when disaster strikes. “Wait,” Blaine gasps, and then, “Oh, fuck, Kurt.”
Kurt’s only been using his hands to move Blaine’s head a little, to get more access. Blaine because he is being an idiot who forgot that balance is a good thing and maybe they shouldn’t be doing this standing up, has basically not been holding on to anything. Not even something as obvious as Kurt (see? Idiot, that’s what he is) so when he stumbles, he stumbles hard and there’s not enough time to readjust so fall is the only choice.
Unfortunately he takes Kurt down with him. Specifically on top of Blaine’s body, which isn’t as fun as it should be.
Yelping in pain probably isn’t the best way to convince Kurt to continue kissing him in this far more reasonable horizontal position.
“Are you okay?”
Other than wanting to die of embarrassment, Blaine quickly assesses the situation. He hasn’t knocked out any teeth, managed to maim Kurt, and he’s not bleeding. These are all bonuses.
He has, however, noticing a slight twitch when he moves his legs, so he's probably sprained his right ankle.
Kurt stares down at him. “You’re a really bad liar.”
“I really want you to keep kissing me,” Blaine confesses. “Sorry. It’s my ankle. When, uh, when we tripped.”
“When you tripped me,” Kurt says. He strokes the side of Blaine’s face and then shakes his head. “How about we get some ice on that? Then I’ll kiss it and make it better. Does that sound like a good plan?”
“My neck really hurts too. And my head—my face, actually. And um, my hands.”
Blaine would happily offer up all of his body but he’s not entirely sure how to put that into words without it sounding really weird and entirely crass.
“Really, Blaine? Your hands?”
“You’re not the only one who overdosed on musicals.”
Kurt smiles as he begins to stand up, offering his arms to Blaine. “And what’s more romantic than nursing the man I love back to health?”
“A real kiss,” Blaine says mournfully as he hobbles along with Kurt.
There’s a quick press of Kurt’s lips against his cheek, a brush really, nothing more, nothing less but it’s so warm and so wonderful that Blaine nearly stumbles all over again.
“What was that for?”
“A promise.” Kurt’s arm is tight around Blaine’s back as he supports him and Blaine thinks that fine, maybe all these awkward steps are totally worth it.