I was a taller girl too, once. (regala_electra) wrote,
I was a taller girl too, once.

Fic: Come Early and Come Often (Glee, Kurt/Blaine, NC-17)

Come Early and Come Often
Author: Regala Electra
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sexual Content, Language
Word Count: 5,830
Summary: After thinking it over for a long time, he decides that while they’ve had many intense personal conversations in public locations, orgasms should be strictly discussed somewhere with less of a chance for eavesdropping. What Kurt Hummel did on his summer vacation. The answer is Blaine. It mostly involves days of sexual frustration, sincere discussions, and eventual orgasms. I’m kidding, there are several orgasms that arrive earlier than anticipated.
Author’s Notes: Who knew writing about premature ejaculation could take so long? You are now free to make all the puns and still not make as many as I did while writing this. Mercifully I kept my puns to myself. Thanks to whenidance for the initial look and ccmskatechick for the final beta.


There’s a high likelihood that his first assignment for English will be something along the lines of what I did for my summer vacation because after all, this is McKinley. Kurt’s got quite the lovely five paragraph essay written in his head, gold star worthy and everything.

Particular points of conversation include how he finished the book for Pip Pip Hooray, the absolute steals he’d managed in less than two months thanks to a few doorbuster retail sales and some dedicated thrift store purchases, and as always, the less than glamorous work at his dad’s shop.

He once would have added that for an element of butch flair. Now he wears his mechanical abilities as a matter of pride. He’s seen the disasters Finn’s nearly caused while Dad’s been teaching Finn a thing or two around the shop. At least Kurt’s never hit himself in the groin with a wrench.

Yes, Kurt still winces over that one; he’s pretty sure everyone at the shop reacted similarly.

Missing from his theoretical essay is: I spent too much time watching my boyfriend perform in a theme park as a member of a faux barbershop quartet and whenever we managed to steal a few hours I discovered every theoretical problem I ever worried about dating now centers around how to hide your erection while making out.

That last one is getting trickier as the summer passes by.

First there was the stupid discovery of Blaine’s stupid, sexy body. It’s not like Kurt hadn’t already spent months thinking about what was under Blaine’s clothes—he’s not blind. As soon as they started dating, he’d gotten a crash course on the wonders of Blaine’s physique because a) he still has eyes and b) he has hands. He’s mapped out several favorite areas already. The dip of Blaine’s throat as his skin thins out around the start of his chest is a really, really nice spot.

There’s this noise Blaine makes when Kurt pulls off his tie and unbuttons his shirt that is precious to Kurt, probably because it’s a reaction about Kurt. He does this to Blaine, and only he gets hear it. It’s a total ego-boost.

There are no ties to yank off during the summer. Blaine’s uniform for his ridiculous theme park gig is tieless and he keeps his shirt open at the collar because it’s way too hot during his midday performances. Kurt can’t help admiring the beads of sweat collecting at the dip of Blaine’s neck. It’s exposure and Kurt can’t help being fascinated and if he’s being possessive, that’s fine, because the way Blaine looks at him is worth listening to same a capella treatments day after day.

Out of costume and it’s shorts and thin shirts that cling to his skin, Blaine tugging Kurt’s hand as they walk together towards someplace more private.

He apologizes for sweating and Kurt pretends to be put off by it when he’s so not. Isn’t that something he should be worried about? He finds sweat attractive.

But then there’s that weird little slide that happens when they’re maybe making out a little too intensely in the back of his car, clinging to each other. The world seems all right and if he licks a spot behind Blaine’s ear and tastes the faint trace of salt, then that’s hot and not strange at all. The idea of stopping, of waiting to cool off, it is so nonsensical that he keeps on going until Blaine pulls back, throwing himself bodily towards the other side of the car, pressed up against the door.

Finally Blaine says after tugging his damp shirt away from his sweaty stomach, “I’m going to ruin your outfit. Maybe we should start heading back.”

This stopping thing is getting tedious. Kurt doesn’t want to stop.

But he’s a good boyfriend and kisses Blaine and bribes him with promises of iced tea and backyard stargazing until curfew hits and Blaine has to get home.


School’s looming closer than ever when August kicks off with a new wave of humidity. It makes working in the shop considerably unbearable and he’s already been irritated as of late.

Kurt is so very ready to progress beyond being permanently stranded on second base, as he had complained to Mercedes one day, who blushed and looked away after Kurt apologized for being too candid. Though really, how graphic is blurting out one time I brushed against his nipple?

It’s not like Kurt’s ready for things that require special kinds of preparation but he figures there’s a few thing in-between that he’d like to experience. He’s pretty sure Blaine’s fond of him so it shouldn’t be that difficult to persuade him.

Somehow, miracle of miracles, there’s a day when he’s not working in the shop and Blaine’s not scheduled at the theme park. Kurt’s house is gloriously empty and they have plenty of time.

He doesn’t pity Finn, who’s off for a long weekend “excursion” in Columbus with Rachel. It’s something to do with a couples-who-competitively-sing retreat. Kurt took pains not to ask Rachel about it because he very much doesn’t want to know.

What he does want to know is how exactly he can sound confident and assured when he asks Blaine to take his shirt off.

It’s probably best to try it when his tongue isn’t currently exploring Blaine’s mouth but that would mean moving away and no, he’s not going to change course. This is a good, no, an amazing place to be. If he’s worrying about the awkward angle, lying sort of on top, but not quite and trying to get some pressure off his knee, well, it only makes the kissing a little more desperate in the midst of the careless rush towards more.

“Kurt, wait,” Blaine manages to say because apparently he isn’t as far gone. While his left hand is sweetly cupping Kurt’s face, his other hand is firmly gripping Kurt’s hip. He tugs, probably trying to pull Kurt forward to steady the kiss but Kurt loses his balance and topples on Blaine, mercifully having the foresight to steady himself with his hands on the mattress but the lower half of his body, he didn’t catch himself in time and he’s fully pressed against Blaine and it’s—

Oh. That is definitely Blaine’s erection against his thigh.

From the way Blaine’s eyes go wide and he sucks in a shocked breath, Blaine’s also responding to feel of Kurt’s dick and oh no. They’re going to have to talk about this. Because that’s what they do, talk, and figure things out, because they mean the world to each other, and no, not today, Kurt is not up for that.

He is, in fact, up for other things. So when he dives for Blaine’s mouth and Blaine whimpers against him, he tries not to feel a little guilty, but okay, he’s been fantasizing what it would be like to rut up against Blaine for far too long and now he can do exactly that. It’s pretty much shattering all his expectations.

“Kurt,” Blaine says, nervously laughing as Kurt sucks the delicate skin of Blaine’s throat in an open-mouthed kiss. It’s where Blaine’s beard grows in lightest, just a faint scratch against Kurt’s top lip. “I’m—”

“It’s okay,” Kurt says, maybe a little crazed because he’s figuring out this balancing thing and how he can adjust his weight. He’s not going to crush Blaine and it’s amazing because Blaine’s leg moves against his. It’s like the world changes, if the world was centered in Kurt’s pants.

He tests it out by pushing his hips down, adding just the right amount of pressure. Well, it turns out that this right here is the smartest decision in Kurt’s life. He rocks against Blaine for a while, tangling his hands in Blaine’s hair as they kiss, and wow, okay the euphemism getting off makes a lot of sense now. Only, he needs more to get him there. Blaine’s wonderful hands don’t seem to be touching him at all so he leans back to see why Blaine’s holding back.

Blaine’s gripping the bed sheets like gravity doesn’t work and he’s about to fall off, his knuckles almost white. His expression is dazed and skin flushed. If it weren’t for how his fingers are tensed and clutching the fabric desperately, Kurt would think he’s not as invested in this maybe-no-definitely more make out session. But there’s something off despite how wrecked Blaine looks.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing?” Blaine bites his lip, shaking his head. “It’s—this is great, Kurt, I’m just, I’m—Kurt.”

Blaine’s usually pretty good at not being loud but he loses it when Kurt presses the palm of his hand against Blaine’s dick, a move that is more idle curiosity than purposeful teasing. At least, it should just be teasing, that’s all Kurt intended, but then it changes. He feels Blaine pulsing underneath as Blaine’s hips flex forward, and he’s pressing into Kurt’s grip. Kurt can’t help tightening his grip a little as Blaine voice breaks off into a deep groan.

There’s a spread of warmth and wet under Kurt’s hand. Oh god. Also: wow. That just happened.

“Did you just?—” What exactly is the etiquette for asking if your boyfriend had an orgasm? It’s obvious he did but there has to be some polite way to frame this conversation and he’s pretty sure saying why or that’s all it took? would ruin everything.

Blaine looks absolutely gorgeous now, more than he ever has, high spots of color bright on his cheeks. He draws in a breath like he’s trying to figure out how words work. “Kurt, oh god, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Blaine, it’s okay. I was, well, that’s supposed to happen, isn’t it?”


“Getting off.”

“Um, well—”

Kurt kisses him then, stroking down the lean lines of Blaine’s torso and then deciding against a hug, because he’s still hard and Blaine’s probably a mess in pants. “It was a surprise. I didn’t realize I could make you—that you were close.”

“Are you kidding?” Blaine sighs against his neck, burying his face against Kurt. “It was so intense, and I’ve never, we’ve never gone so far. I couldn’t stop.”

Kurt touches Blaine’s face, pulling him out of the useless hiding spot, kissing his forehead. He trails down, rubs his nose against Blaine’s cheek before lightly peppering his skin with kisses until Blaine’s back there with him, claiming Kurt’s mouth in a searing kiss. Breaking the kiss is tricky but he can’t let this be the end.

“Don’t stop, Blaine.” He punctuates it with a slide of his lips against Blaine’s jaw, breathing in the faint trace of cologne. “Touch me.”

It turns out Blaine’s a little oversensitive afterwards when their hips press flush against each other. He pushes Kurt back into the bed, and after a bit of awkward positioning, he’s got Kurt’s shirt rucked up, kissing Kurt’s stomach and mumbling something that Kurt doesn’t quite hear. Then Blaine’s hand is cupping his dick and Kurt’s rocking up against him.

The heel of Blaine’s hand strokes him with the perfect pressure up and down, up and down, faster and faster until there’s no more pressing as Kurt gasps out how and you’re so good. There’s nothing else but Blaine, the touch of Blaine, getting him off as spots of color hit his vision and he lets go, absolutely ruining a pair of underwear he gratefully does not care that much for anyway.


It’s a week later and they’ve somehow managed to score a near empty theater while watching Cowboys and Aliens which Kurt agrees to see on the basis that he really is terribly in love with Blaine and will go to see this awful movie even though it is actually called Cowboys and Aliens and there is a low probability for surprise musical numbers.

When the only two fellow moviegoers leave during the middle of the movie, muttering about sneaking into Rise of the Planet of the Apes (really?), Kurt realizes this time could be put to better use. It’s sort of tacky to do this but it is pretty refreshing to make out with Blaine during a movie he absolutely does not care about.

Barely twenty minutes pass and he’s biting on Blaine’s bottom lip when it happens, Blaine’s fingers trembling as he digs into Kurt’s shoulder, pushing Kurt back with a gasp.


“It’s getting a little intense.” Blaine actually whispers even though they’re the only ones there.

“Blaine, we’re not going to get caught.”

There’s a divider between them and everything, so the opportunity to be actually shameless is somewhat restricted. Kurt puts a hand on Blaine’s knee, the most soothing thing he can think to do. For a moment all is well and Kurt squeezes, just to say hey I’m here with you, no matter what. Blaine tenses again, almost like an involuntary twitch, and then he’s pulling Kurt to him in a clumsy kiss, climbing over the armrest as he says, “I’m sorry but I—”

It’s barely a minute in Kurt’s lap when Blaine’s moaning, thrusting against Kurt with desperation and then Blaine slumps in his arms, all that tension melting away as Blaine sighs against Kurt’s face.

Okay. First, Kurt needs to resist asking Blaine if he’s come. There’s no way Blaine won’t take it as an accusation when all Kurt wants to know is how exactly it happened. Second, maybe they should talk about this.

Kurt’s gotten a little hard, because Blaine is gorgeous and they were intensely making out. But he isn’t anywhere close to coming and maybe there’s something wrong with him if Blaine can get there so quick with just, what? It seemed like the biting set Blaine off. He files that factoid under things to explore later when he can put it to good use.

“Maybe we should leave,” he says, squirming a little under Blaine.

“Give me a moment,” Blaine mumbles, pressing gentle kisses against Kurt’s skin, slowly moving off of Kurt. “I need to use the bathroom before we leave. So. I’m going to go. Do that.”

“Right. Of course.”

Their goodnight kiss is as sweet as ever though Blaine keeps on nervously looking away when Kurt tries to broach the subject about what happened during the movie.

“I love you,” Kurt says because he means it and he hopes Blaine understands.

Blaine smiles and it’s almost all better.


After thinking it over for a long time, he decides that while they’ve had many intense personal conversations in public locations, orgasms should be strictly discussed somewhere with less of a chance for eavesdropping. It’s not until Blaine’s over at Kurt’s again, with a window of less than an hour (a good excuse not to fool around as there’s a high risk of getting caught), that he drops the question.

“Are things moving too fast?”

Perhaps this ranks low on Kurt’s list of best conversation starters.

Blaine groans, covering his face in his hands as he slumps over. “I don’t know why it keeps happening.”

“Wait, what?”

“This whole summer, okay, if I’m being entirely honest, before it, and maybe not exactly when we started dated, because yes, I’ve thought about it, before, in passing, well, I uh—”

“Blaine,” Kurt cuts in and Blaine relieved to be freed from rambling on, “we don’t have a lot of time, so let’s not talk about,” our masturbation fantasies, “when we started falling for each other, okay? I want to be sure you’re, I mean, I want to know that this is okay. For you.”

“I’ve gotten so worked up. Because I’ve never…obviously we’re exploring new territory,” Blaine says and damn his word choice because Kurt blatantly stares at Blaine’s crotch and it’s better to focus on Blaine’s face, at how he looks so confused, “and I thought I’d be, well, I figured I’d have to wait and that I’d be ready—”

“So you’re not ready.”

“No.” Blaine huffs out a laugh, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I’m too ready.”

That makes the opposite of sense. “I don’t understand.”

“Kurt. I can’t help it. Things get too intense and it’s you, the way you make me feel. I can’t stop. I’m not supposed to, you know, um. God. I don’t know how to explain.”

“I don’t think this is something you have to explain. But we need to talk about it, because, well. I wanted to, I’ve been thinking about doing more—” Kurt pauses and stares at the ceiling, where there is no judgment. “I really want to touch you. Preferably without clothing getting in the way. And if you’d like to, maybe you could do the same to me. I think I’d enjoy, no, I’d love that.”

“What if you went first?”


“Kurt, I kind of can’t help, um, completing things once we start,” Blaine explains and Kurt catches his nervous smile. “So if we focused on you, maybe that would better. For the both of us.”

“Oh.” They are actually negotiating the order of who receives the first handjob.

Oddly enough it’s not all that weird. In fact, it’s sort of comforting how obviously embarrassed Blaine is and how he keeps trying to grab a hold of Kurt’s hand before second-guessing himself and moving away, petting the bed like it’s an extension of Kurt. Or maybe he’s angry at the bed for being the original scene of the crime.

Okay, maybe this is a bit weird.

“I thought you’d be mad,” Blaine confesses. “It’s supposed to be, you know, embarrassing. Not that I’m proud that I can’t—uh, last. All the things I ever heard about guys who go off early, it’s—unless you are mad and you’re really hiding it well.”

“That would be cruel.” Kurt pauses, wondering how exactly to frame the next bit. “I kind of like it.”

“Kurt. How can you like that?”

“Doesn’t it mean that you want—” Kurt shakes his head, starting over again. “Blaine, it means that you’re excited about me. At least, I hope so. Since I was there.”

“Yes,” Blaine breathes out, gently. “I am so, so excited and amazed and I try to stop it when it happens and I can’t.”

“Why do you have to stop it?”

Blaine frowns. “I don’t understand.”

“Why do think you have to stop? I noticed that you’ve been holding back and I always wondered. Why?”

“I never considered that,” he answers slowly, fiddling with the edges of his shorts, eyes downcast. “Not worrying about stopping. I thought I’m supposed to and before I know it I’m so close. Then I panic. I try to stop but I get overloaded and pretty much—”

“Please don’t say explode,” Kurt says, wincing. “There has to be a better euphemism.”

“Orgasm,” Blaine says, dully. “I keep telling myself not to, uh, come, and then it’s over before I’m able to get a grip. A handle. Oh god.”

Kurt bites back his laugh as he pats Blaine’s thigh. His fingers lace with Blaine’s fingers and he knocks his shoulder against Blaine’s for good measure. “We’re being so mature.”

Blaine smiles sheepishly. “I guess we can work on this together.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow. “I’ll hold you to that. Next time,” he says, glancing at the clock.


Kurt hates next time. Next time means a struggle in coordination and stealth planning that leads to nothing because while Kurt Hummel might be able to orchestrate several amazing feats (including wedding planning in a matter of days, flash mobs, etc. all found on his résumé), the time necessary for intimate acts without interruption is impossible to achieve.

The days pass with some very sincere dates offering nothing beyond heated kissing. They’ve both earned gold medals in that category, hooray for them. Kurt has not even gotten to really make out with Blaine in forever. This is the worst thing ever.

Actually, the real worst thing is how everyone suddenly demands their company on joint outings. If Rachel isn’t trying to set up the most bizarre double dating scenarios imaginable then Tina and Mike are asking if Kurt and Blaine would like to join them in a mini-marathon night of Avatar. Kurt politely declines at first but Blaine has to get excited and agree to Mike’s text before checking in with Kurt, explaining it’s the cartoon and not the James Cameron movie.

Kurt has to accept that his boyfriend is a people-pleaser who apparently enjoys watching cartoons and thinks that it’s great double date material.

That Blaine isn’t in the business of people-pleasing Kurt is just another layer of frustration on top of the fact that someone always seems to be in his house whenever Blaine is around. Kurt’s about ready to accept that he will have to rely on the memories of a rushed moment in his bed and the half-crazed encounter at the movie theater as the sole basis for any further extrapolation of what he and Blaine will be like together. In the future. When they have their own place where other people are banned from crossing the threshold.

Maybe Kurt’s being selfish but he was promised a handjob.

He almost howls in rage when he gets the invite to Rachel’s vegan BBQ pre-school (yes, she actually writes it as pre-school) glee club get-together (“significant others welcome even if they are from other competitive clubs that means you, Kurt!”).

Tina’s the first to accept, stating she’ll be bringing Korean BBQ with her for the meat eaters prompting Mike to respond with I love you and a flurry of others commenting how she’s the best. Delicious beef is always something to celebrate over the grilled tofu offerings as per Rachel’s menu noted in the invite.

Blaine waits for Kurt to accept before he responds and because Kurt is a team player, he does say yes. But he does so begrudgingly and maybe spends an hour or five reorganizing his closet until he’s less angry at the universe. At least he’ll have the opportunity to ask Tina for her recipes because his dad has been asking about healthy ways to reacquaint their household with the wonders of beef. Perhaps some variation is in order.

See? He’s not consumed with lust; he’s got other things on his mind.

Despite his generous spirit, no doubt earned by unintentionally joining eternal monkhood, he does not drive to Blaine’s house particularly excited for the party. He can’t help but get annoyed when he sees that Blaine’s parents aren’t at home; their car missing from its usual spot on the driveway.

He knocks on the door, rocking on his heels, and yelps in surprise when Blaine grabs him by the waist, dragging him inside.

“I’m sick,” Blaine says, kissing him hard.

“Blergh,” Kurt says, reeling back. “So you decided to get me sick?”

“No,” Blaine says and his eyes are too bright. “I have suddenly come down with something and couldn’t possibly attend Rachel’s soirée.”

“When you call anything a soirée it sounds less like a disaster.” Whenever Blaine says any word originating from the French language Kurt kind of wants to make out with him until their lips are bruised.

“Soirée,” Blaine repeats in an undertone as he trails his hand across Kurt’s stomach. “The rest of my message noted how my wonderful boyfriend is dealing with my insufferable crankiness while I’m sick by watching terrible movies. So sorry we can’t make it. P.S. soy-based cheese sounds amazing, I hope I’ll be able to try it next time.”

“Blaine Anderson, you lied.”

“Kurt Hummel,” he says, “I believe I made a promise to you.”

“I’m glad you remember,” Kurt says, smiling. “You did indeed.”

If he races Blaine up the stairs, that’s totally okay and he’s not running, his legs are longer so he naturally outpaces Blaine.

He may in fact make an undignified leap onto Blaine’s bed as he starts unbuttoning his shirt, an act that is trickier than expected.

“Hey,” Blaine says, hands over Kurt’s, stilling him. “It’s okay. We have time.”

“That,” Kurt huffs, “is something we do not ever have. Come here.”

Here is Kurt’s mouth. Here are Kurt’s hands. Here, together, are them, and all the places they mirror each other, kiss by kiss, touch for touch. It’s how he knows how to relax when Blaine clambers over him and settles in his lap. They fit together.

Blaine tilts Kurt’s head back, sloppily licking over his Adam’s apple before pushing Kurt’s shirt down his arms, almost immobilizing him. He can feel Blaine hard against him, and that’s all it takes, that Blaine’s hard for him and he’s ready to go, ready for Blaine to touch him. To jerk him off. God.

“Okay, let’s go, come on,” Kurt says, leaning back on his hands, thrusting up against Blaine and almost unseating him.

“Whoa.” Blaine digs fingers into Kurt’s hips. “Seriously, Kurt. There’s no hurry.”

“Blaine,” Kurt says through gritted teeth because he is going to just take matters into his own hands if he has to in order to make a point. “An asteroid is headed to Earth in a matter of minutes.”

“Wait, really?”

Kurt wrinkles his nose and tries to bring his hand to his face before realizing his shirt is constricting around his arms. He shucks off his shirt and sighs at Blaine’s earnest face. “No. Look, Blaine. I love you.”

That perfect exposed smile. It still amazes Kurt that this is his life now. No, he will not let his love for Blaine win in this situation and let him get away with anything, worst of all, taking their time.

“Fine, there’s no asteroid. But I will happily murder you in a minute if we are not in a state of more undress.”

“We don’t have to both be undressed,” Blaine says gently. His hands are at Kurt’s zipper, opening up his pants. “Watch me?”

It’s the easiest question Kurt’s ever had to answer. What’s not easy is getting his jeans pushed down his hips, his briefs almost slipping down with them. He hisses a little as the elastic band snaps against his pubic hair.

“Oh,” Blaine says, fingers trailing along the waistband. “You’re a little darker than I thought you’d be.”

“Is that a problem?” Kurt’s not been too terribly obsessed with manscaping, most of his body hair isn’t that dark, and it’s not like he’s untamed or anything.

“What? No. It’s actually hot.” Blaine’s dipping his fingers underneath the briefs and Kurt does all that he can to keep from tilting his hips up to get Blaine to touch his dick. He’s so close, right there, and Blaine is teasing, hand slipping away to rest on the top of Kurt’s thigh. Tentatively stroking Kurt is nice but he’s aiming for the wrong part of Kurt’s anatomy and there’s somewhere else that is begging for attention. “I want this to be good for you.”

Kurt lays his hand over Blaine’s. “It already is.”

Honesty really is what works for them.

And it is good, and keeps on getting better when they finally figure out that hey, freeing Kurt from the confines of his underwear gives Blaine some room to maneuver. While it’s halting, Blaine obviously trying to figure out what works based off his own self-education (and porn, Kurt has a boyfriend who is basing his moves around porn), checking in with Kurt every moment. Is this okay? How does that feel? Um, what if I did this? Maybe I should get some lotion?

It takes a lot of love not to yell at Blaine for impeding his orgasm. Because he’s not close-close but he’s there, riding a very nice high, blatantly staring at Blaine’s face as Blaine jerks him off. His brows are knitted together and he’s openly panting like they’ve flipped positions and Kurt’s the one curling a fist tight around his dick. In fact, Blaine has this flushed, dazed look in his eyes, sort of like before when—oh, he’s almost there too.

Kurt cups Blaine over his jeans and Blaine almost bolts off of Kurt in shock. He’s too distracted to keep on touching Kurt and Blaine moans in defeat. “I’m sorry, Kurt.”

Okay, that right there? That is it.

Tackling someone while semi-naked and partially bound by jeans is extremely undignified, as is the yelp Blaine makes when Kurt rolls over Blaine, making quick work of undressing Blaine to at least a similar facsimile of Kurt’s own current style which is teenage boy in desperate need of getting off.

He doesn’t entirely know where it comes from—he’d prefer instinct but it’s probably some horrifying aspect of those damn pamphlets that made mention of lubrication so many times that Kurt had some difficulty moisturizing his face after reading them—he licks the palm of his hand before reaching down and taking a hold of their dicks together. Well, sort of, there’s a lot between the both of them and it’s more holding them together that he’s fascinated by. Blaine surges back to life, the shock finally leaving him, flexing upward and he’s making these high breathy moans, covering his face with his hands.

“No,” Kurt says, with great effort, because really, this is an incredibly precarious situation and god, he’s jerking off Blaine and himself and this is the best thing ever. “Please don’t hide from me. I want to see.”

Blaine snaps forward, grabbing the back of Kurt’s head to bring their mouths together. It’s not kissing, not at all, Blaine almost sobbing in relief as he comes over Kurt’s hand, his dick. As Kurt works him through it, Blaine’s right hand joins in on the fun and yes, there’s still fun to be had, specifically it’s Kurt turn, which is now their turn as Blaine strokes over the head as Kurt works the base of his dick in shorter, quicker strokes.

His mouth reflexively opens in a soundless gasp as he feels it finally hit, the quickening sensation of the world titling off-center as everything rushes forward. Kurt hopes he didn’t just knock his forehead against Blaine’s but he probably did since there’s a sharp smack of pain as he comes. He collapses on top of Blaine, forgetting to break his fall.

“Ow.” Blaine laughs a little too, so it mustn’t hurt all that much.

Kurt rubs the spot at Blaine forehead, ignoring the cooling damp between them. He is not moving for a good minute, at the very least. Blaine’s arms are loosely draped around him, his hands running over Kurt’s back. He tries not to think about how one of Blaine’s hands is sort of wet.

“We’ll get better at this,” he mutters absentmindedly, kissing whatever part of Blaine is closest, that area being his shoulder. Blaine has really nice shoulders so Kurt tells him that too.

“I’m such a mess.”

“We both are.” This must be what basking in the aftermath is supposed to feel like. It’s kind of tingly and disconcertingly sticky.

Blaine sighs and Kurt can feel it through his chest, which is fascinating. He guides a hand between them and rests it over Blaine’s heart, comforted by the rise and fall of his chest.

“I jerked off right before you showed up,” Blaine says, shuddering beneath Kurt. “I thought it would help.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be enjoying the afterglow?” Kurt nudges the side of Blaine’s face with his nose to guide him into a kiss. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says back, a natural reflex, as is Blaine’s drowsy, pleased smile.

Kurt experimentally shifts his hips and winces. “Okay, so it’s not fun afterwards.”

“Mmm,” Blaine says and it’s not exactly a sound of disagreement.

“Huh. Really?”

“It’s sort of, um, like aftershocks?” Blaine ruts up against him a little, and Kurt holds back a hiss. “It’s not like that for you?”

“No. Once I’m done, I’m—done.”

“Oh.” Blaine laughs then a little. “We’re discussing orgasms.”

“Considering we just had them, it’s a good conversation topic,” Kurt says, affecting a lofty tone that ends the moment he looks at Blaine’s dazzled smile and can’t help grinning back. “We should do that again.”

“We’ll have to be more sneaky. I can’t pretend to be sick every time my parents are away.”

“Yes, that’s also a good plan. But I was talking about the immediate future.”

“Wow, you’re ready to go again?”

Kurt rolls out of Blaine’s arms, reaching towards a box of tissues Blaine wisely keeps on his nightstand. “Soon.”

“This time, it’s all about you,” Blaine says as he takes the offered tissues and starts cleaning himself up.

“Blaine, I love you, but you have to get this through your thick skull. Every time, it’s about us. Don’t keep score.” Kurt clicks his tongue in disgust as he thinks about the whole matter of scoring. “It’s not a competition.”

“I know it’s not. But everything I’ve ever read about this, it’s always a joke. You know? Arriving early, ha ha, and all those stupid comments and there’s a even song about it.”

“There’s a song about it?” Kurt asks blankly.

Blaine averts his eyes. “Don’t make me sing it.”

“I won’t.” Kurt settles next to Blaine on the bed after he takes off his jeans. They’re only slightly soiled and nothing some good spot remover won’t fix. While he is of course dressed to kill, he picked his outfit in mind with the high likelihood that Rachel could accidentally drop a platter of food on him, a just-in-case that wouldn’t leave him mourning for his favored couture. “You know, there are other things we could do, though.”


Kurt pokes Blaine’s side for that and Blaine tries to wiggle away so Kurt holds him tighter. “Maybe in a couple of minutes.”

“Fine by me,” Blaine says agreeably. It seems Blaine’s true afterglow has finally hit him, no embarrassment at all as he nudges his leg between Kurt’s.

“You’re still wearing jeans.”

“I don’t want to move.”

“Oh, I’ll make you move.”

“Yeah,” Blaine says, raising his chin up a little to show the challenge is serious. “How are you going to do that?”

They stare at each other for a few tense moments before Kurt starts laughing, Blaine joining in right after.

“Fine, you don’t have to move,” Kurt says, accepting defeat. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you. Being sick and all.”

“I hate lying,” Blaine says. “If you make me an iced coffee, I might make a miraculous recovery.”

“Then you won’t feel so guilty?”

“Then I’ll have coffee.”

“Your theoretical world is nice and all. But I was planning on making out with my boyfriend.”

“I like that idea too,” Blaine says but he says it so close against Kurt’s lips, he may as well not have said it all.

Kurt’s got some excellent ideas. Many of them revolve around Blaine’s bed. He can’t wait to show him all the things they can do together.


Additional Note: In case anyone was wondering, Blaine is referencing that glorious song Jizz In My Pants.

Tags: fic, glee fic, kurt/blaine
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