Author: Regala Electra
Spoilers: Post S3 Future fic
Warnings: Sexual content, language
Summary: Kurt's turning forty. He and Blaine have been married for thirteen years, have a lovely daughter and a baby on the way, busy careers, and a fabulous bathroom renovation planned. Everything is perfect. Except for their sex life.
Total word count: 9,684
Author's Notes: Title from the Garbage song Big Bright World. Many thanks to my glorious beta whenidance for nurturing this story. ♥ Originally posted as a part of the Klaine Endgame Fest here.
“Morning,” Blaine says, breath warm and ticklish at the back of Kurt’s head. He presses an absent-minded kiss against the nape, a happy buzz between them.
“I don’t remember you sneaking into our bed last night.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Blaine says, shifting so Kurt can turn around and appreciate Blaine’s rumpled morning face. “Got stuck finalizing a few last minute details.”
Kurt raises his eyebrows at that and he fondly strokes the side of Blaine’s face. “That’s mysterious. Are these top secret preparations about acknowledging today despite the fact that I’m not looking forward to celebrating?”
Blaine leans into the touch and closes his eyes, humming. “It’s not every day my husband celebrates his 39th birthday all over again.”
Kurt mock gasps, hooks his ankle over Blaine’s to keep him from rolling away, their hips pressing together. It doesn’t take much for them to start rutting up against each other. Kurt missed falling asleep with Blaine beside him last night and he wants something to make up for it. He tells Blaine as much, kissing the thin skin of Blaine’s throat, just under where his beard starts to grow.
Blaine beams and dips in for a quick kiss, saying against his lips, “Oh hello, look what else is awake.”
He’s halfway down Kurt’s body, pushing the covers off before Kurt can even say anything in response.
It’s tradition after all—something Blaine insisted on when they officially started living together—birthday morning blowjobs.
The blowjobs received on other mornings didn’t have a name until Blaine decided to be a smartass and start calling them unbirthday blowjobs.
This is what happens when your daughter goes through an aggressive Alice in Wonderland phase and makes your husband watch the animated movie every day for over six months straight. At least it’s a restrained sort of madness.
Not that Kurt’s complaining. Blaine’s incredible with his mouth and years of experience have made him even better.
They were thirty-four (fine: Kurt was thirty-five) when they adopted Jocelyn, a sweet five-year-old girl with wide brown eyes that she learned quickly to use in order to get her way. Kurt admittedly is more of a pushover but he does sometimes come home to find some dedicated craft project or baking frenzy and more often than not, Blaine covered in glitter or sprinkles, because apparently Jocelyn thinks decorating Daddy is hilarious.
Kurt is now officially forty (but looks not forty and that’s all that matters, right?) and has been married for thirteen years. That number ought to be unlucky if he wasn’t so utterly lucky when he long ago broke the bad streak that seemed to have haunted him after he didn’t get into NYADA and the semi-aimless path he was on until he reached his early twenties. He’s a boring old married according to his single friends, which he’ll take, often a bit smugly, raising a half-full glass up when the conversation turns catty, thankful that he doesn’t look at it and think it half-empty. He’s something of an occasional stage performer these days, though his regular expenses are covered thanks to a steady career in costume design. There’s nothing quite like a steady paycheck from a thriving Broadway show.
He and Blaine sometimes do special one-off shows and charity benefits where they gather with friends and sing until they close down the joints, and only sometimes regret it when they have to face the next morning and all their grown-up responsibilities.
(He also managed to befriend someone with a house in the Hamptons. No matter how gossipy and vain that friend can (and will) be, Kurt will smile with ease because, for at least three weekends a summer, he and his family get the place to themselves. Just because he doesn’t tan isn’t an excuse not to admire Blaine at the beach or build elaborate sandcastles with Jocelyn, so long as Kurt’s under a decent amount of shade.)
His husband doesn’t bother to dye the faint grey coming in at his temples. Kurt lies when people complement his hair color. He started going grey at 25, something he learned he inherited from his mother’s side of the family, so he dyes his hair vigorously and at great expense because his stylist is a miracle worker.
Blaine’s always got a shadow of whiskers at his jaw by mid-afternoon, comfortably salt and pepper, while Kurt still only has to shave in the morning and not a hint of stubble shows until the sun sets. Blaine tends to become ridiculously handsy when Kurt doesn’t shave so he never really skips a day because that starts to invite all kinds of questions, especially from their too-smart daughter.
Life is better than good and for Blaine’s 40th birthday, they’re going to have a new addition to their family, according to their surrogate, who called today and Kurt is happy to accept the call as the first unexpected birthday present he hadn’t quite expected so soon.
When he calls Blaine with the news, it goes straight to voicemail, as expected since he’s in rehearsal and he texts the few people he’d promised once he and Blaine had gotten word. He and Jocelyn are going to have a special after school session at his favorite spa and he can’t wait to tell her all about her new brother or sister.
Later in the day, Blaine is still wishing time machines were real and that he could skip over the rest of rehearsal.
“Wow, the…snake wrangler. Sounds interesting. I don’t believe I’ve read about that one in the Gay Kama Sutra,” Blaine says tiredly to his new costar. His politeness is a bit frayed as Ved is twenty-three, unquestionably talented, and profoundly arrogant. He also believes that he talks a good game, is the first man to be a real player, and keeps bragging about some choir boy he had hooked up with the night before.
“Sorry, I forgot I’m talking to an old man. You’re all married and old and don’t know what it’s like experimenting. Bet you think showering together is risqué.”
Well, showering together is kind of a challenge as they’re still saving up for a bathroom renovation and any extended time spent in the bathroom together devolves into them discussing tile samples, which isn’t really conductive to sex.
That reminds Blaine he really needs to confirm with Kurt that they are not going with the custom made mosaic Waterworks had designed for them as it’s way too expensive. He bristles a little though at the real implication of Ved’s words.
He and Kurt have a daughter and, as Kurt excitedly announced in Blaine’s voicemail, voice breathless with the news, another one soon on the way.
(Blaine texted Kurt a series of emoticons that he knew were incredibly undignified but not as undignified as the picture he took of his face, breaking into the most ridiculous smile possible—it did nothing to favor his nose—but still Kurt sent him back so many xoxo’s that Blaine felt as he did back when they were teenagers. Which would be super irresponsible—eighteen year old Blaine was not ready to be a father. Though he’d already started thinking about kids with Kurt by that point.)
While they’ve finally convinced Jocelyn that their bedroom at night is for daddies only (though she sometimes does knock on their door at severely awkward times), she’s a smart girl and can figure out that her dads don’t really need to shower together to save water. Not when Blaine succumbs to Jocelyn’s demands for long, luxurious baths, which Kurt assists by purchasing fancy bath collections in bottles that Jocelyn deems to be the prettiest things ever.
Still, he can’t believe Ved’s nerve to suggest that Ved is the one living the dream. “Yeah, being married to the love of my life. What a nightmare.”
Ved nods enthusiastically so the sarcasm is lost on him.
Brunch with Rachel is always candid once they get to the third refill on the semi-decent mimosas. Lunch with Rachel, when they have the time (and for Kurt’s birthday, she made sure to make the time), is even worse, especially Rachel insists on trying the restaurant’s special cocktails and Kurt simply has to taste each one, which means they split the drinks fairly evenly and are totally residing in that similar buzz of brunch-induced drunkenness, only with classier drinks and at a much later hour in the day.
“It’s wonderful that you and Blaine are having a baby, even though neither of you are having a baby.” Rachel ponders this, and then says solemnly, “Wow, that would be really weird if you guys could have babies together.”
“If you’re picturing either of us in maternity wear, that’s grounds for you no longer being Jocelyn’s fairy godmother.”
Deciding on Rachel as Jocelyn’s possible guardian had been one of those decisions that was so incredibly simple and then became far more complicated when he and Blaine sat down with their lawyer to work out the final details. Cooper was picked as the godfather (though in name only and not as a potential guardian) because he’d been going through a Godfather phase when he was auditioning for the sexier reboot of the movie franchise and kept pestering Blaine until he agreed to let him be the godfather. Which means Cooper tends to act out scenes from The Godfather whenever he visits. Blaine doesn’t seem to amused by Cooper’s impersonations, which confuses Kurt as Cooper is still so charming, and he always makes sure to use TV edited (and family friendly) language around Jocelyn.
Rachel had happily accepted the title fairy godmother, because while Kurt had no love of adding god into the mix of his own family, Rachel’s determination to be the very best at whatever she attempts to do means that she spoils Jocelyn as much as possible.
Cooper excels in the art of godparenting, always insisting on taking Jocelyn to do some of the cheesiest tourist-related activities. Not that he does it purely out of his love for Jocelyn, as Kurt and Blaine have witnessed their couch being defiled many a time when Cooper had set Jocelyn down for a nap and lost track of time with whatever woman he’d picked up while out on the town with Jocelyn.
Rachel fakes a gasp of surprise at Kurt threatening to rescind fairy godmother-hood, which ought to have been a bit more realistic for a Tony award winning actress. “You wouldn’t dare. I am the perfect fairy godmother. Who’s in the running for baby number two? Ooh, have you picked out a name? Do you think it’s going to be a boy or a girl? Are you going to make sure the surrogate starts working on the baby’s vocal lessons? Just because the baby’s still in the womb doesn’t mean it’s not time to start practicing.”
Kurt groans. “Too many questions. And no about vocal lessons. I don’t want to think about that now. The baby’s not even here yet.” He tugs at one of his shirt sleeves to straighten it out, polishing the button with the edge of his napkin. “I’m forty, Rachel.”
Rachel’s hand is quick over his mouth. “Shh, my bio says I’m thirty-seven and it’s going to stay that way.”
Kurt rolls his eyes. “I don’t think you can hide your real age. The internet knows all.”
(The internet has an incriminating photo of Blaine naked from the waist down and from the back with a caption Guess the Broadway Star! Fortunately—sort of—Blaine had to wax his legs for a role and not everyone got it right at first guess. That was until someone hacked Rachel’s Facebook and found a photo of Blaine in a Speedo and did some detective work. Kurt is still a touch aggrieved that Blaine’s naked ass has been shared with internet.)
“I can try,” she says, tilting her chin. “Every actress shaves off a year or two.”
“Like you wouldn’t say you were twenty-nine if you could.”
“Well, I can,” Kurt says, tilting his chin up. “I don’t really feel forty. Isn’t it supposed to feel different?”
“That depends. How much sex are you having?”
Kurt snorts and it flies out before he can stop himself, “Not enough.”
Rachel’s eyes are wide. “Kurt. Are you and Blaine having…problems? In bed?”
“No. I mean—well, it’s not problems. It’s just less. We’re both so busy. Blaine’s going to be dealing with previews in less than a month, and that always drains him, especially now that he’s have to do press since he’s the biggest name in the cast. I don’t want to jinx anything, but he might get nominated if this takes off, and well, it would be nice for Blaine to be doing something steady while we’re getting everything ready for the baby, and then there’s Jocelyn, she’s going to be ten soon and we have to sell her on the wonders of being a big sister. Starting today actually, when I pick her up from school. We still haven’t gotten the bathroom renovation underway, and oh, I have to start picking out things for the nursery. When’s the time for sex?”
“I know exactly what you need,” Rachel says, nodding her head seriously, a dreaded Rachel Berry plan obviously forming in her head. “I bought it for my understudy Alice’s bachelorette party tomorrow. She’s never read it so I got her the deluxe edition. This book, Kurt, I swear, it’ll change everything.”
“Rachel, for the love of god, I said no when I was in college when you first discovered it. Why do you think I’d change my mind today?”
“But it’s one of the raciest things I ever read! If you’re looking to spice up your life, I don’t know what else will do the trick. During a significant dry spell with Francois—”
“A relationship that ended when you found out he slept with your costar—” Kurt muttered under his breath.
“—I tried out page—”
“No,” Kurt say, hoping he’s waving his martini in an imperious manner that is completely dignified and not at all overdramatic. “Please do not give me the page numbers. I am not interested.”
Despite his many repeated refusals, even as they bicker over the bill (Kurt insisting that he put down the tip at least, birthday boy or not), he winds up with 50 Shades of Grey: the Deluxe Seduction Edition tucked into his satchel. Rachel must have done it when he was in the bathroom.
He’s totally willing to temporary suspend fairy godmother rights. The special edition book cover alone is incredibly tacky.
Of course, they’ve experimented over the years. With many things and Kurt keeps a mental inventory of Blaine’s particular like and dislikes. Most things in the positive column involve Kurt giving Blaine direct attention and reinforcing it positively with lots of praise. He’d figured it out in high school the moment he’d brushed over Blaine’s cheek when Blaine was blowing him. It’s not a complete secret but it’s one that’s continued throughout the years they’ve been together. Kurt guides him and Blaine is eager to please.
Negatives involve a really poor attempt at trying out ice cubes and then, candles, and wow, dripping wax, not really his thing at all. Kurt has experienced some of the more extreme elements of manscaping and still, he is not a fan of waxplay in the bedroom.
Kurt likes dizzying romance leading to sweeping hours of extended exploration of each other—their honeymoon in Paris would’ve been a hotel room only experience once he saw the incredible view Blaine secured also came with the world’s most comfortable bed. Every time they reminded each other that they were married now led to sex and they pretty much broke every and any sex record they had accumulated at that point, mainly revolving around orgasms.
They were in Paris for an entire week so they did spend at least two solid days of being actual tourists and not sex-crazed fiends. (Give or take a few hours.)
They have, through Kurt’s tenacity and Cooper deciding that his second (ridiculous) paycheck he earned when he got the lead role on the CSI spinoff set in a dystopian future where a zombie plague arrived (CSI: Undead) was a perfect belated wedding present, managed to secure a brownstone in Park Slope, with two and a half bedrooms (the nursery will have be expanded when Baby Two, as Blaine is now calling the potential kid with great excitement, gets too big for the crib), and one and a half bathrooms (a tiny powder room on the first floor counting as the half).
Every room has been thoroughly christened. Including the powder room which involved the kind of physical agility that Blaine pointed out could be useful if they ever wanted to try for the Mile High club.
(They don’t, because airplane bathrooms are gross. They’ve had sex on other forms of transportation, including a motorboat, which Blaine found to be so hilariously butch that he couldn’t help joking about it months later, and then wondered who in that scenario had been the captain and who had been the first mate.
Kurt loves Blaine best because he didn’t mention that any self-respecting captain would never wear Blaine’s droopy hat. And Kurt is the one who drove the boat after all.)
Kurt’s birthday party is a rousing success—to his surprise, Blaine and their friends (including a surprise visit from his father, flying up from DC, the perks of being a popular multi-elected Congressman) had rented out a yacht that does a nightly tour around Manhattan. For part of the tour, Kurt and Blaine fondly recall the apartments of yesterday, Kurt sighing over that loft in Tribeca that slipped away from their grasp at the very last minute.
“But you’re happy, right?”
Kurt scoffs at Blaine. “Happy? Blaine, there’s not a big enough word for what I am.”
“Well, whatever you are, I know who you are. You’re Kurt Hummel, Anderson-Hummel when you’re not using your professional name.”
Kurt grins as Blaine sneaks a way too dirty kiss on the open deck. “I love you.”
“Mmm, good, because I am going to rock your world tonight.” Blaine holds his hands, lacing their fingers together, before Kurt can jokingly push him away for that lameness. “Whatever you want, Kurt.”
Kurt brings their hands up, placing it over his heart. “Tell me that Jocelyn is sleeping over Rachel’s tonight.”
“Jocelyn is sleeping over Rachel’s tonight. We can be noisy.”
“You’re so good to me.”
Blaine’s eyes are a little bright as he laughs, covering up the sudden emotion by ducking his head. “We should start saying our goodbyes before the boat docks. Then we won’t look rude when we immediately hail a taxi and head home.”
“Then let’s take our bows,” Kurt says, walking backwards and Blaine is more than happy to follow, especially when Kurt turns around and Blaine wraps his arms around his waist and they take a few steps joined together.
They had planned to be noisy but by the time they make it back home and piled on top of the bed, lazy making out seems to be all that they’re awake enough to muster. Not that it isn’t incredibly pleasant, they are really, really good at this. Kurt’s lips buzz from the way he and Blaine try to one up each other, laughing through the kisses.
“Come on, this is ridiculous.” Blaine lifts his head up from Kurt’s clavicle, lips shiny and brows furrowed. “We even closed the bedroom door. We should be having sex now. We’re still dressed, Blaine.”
Blaine presses the heel of his hand over Kurt’s crotch, and Kurt pushes into it, his cock going from half-hard to more interested. “I thought maybe we should draw it out.”
Kurt yawns then and Blaine pulls his hand back guiltily. “Wait, no, that was, it’s been a long day, please don’t.”
“Okay,” Blaine says, unbuckling Kurt’s belt and opening up his trousers. “How about I just—let me do this for you.”
Initial blowjob followed by fucking, now this, yes, Kurt can definitely stay awake for this. “Oh yes, please.”
After Blaine gives Kurt possibly the best head of their entire relationship and Kurt comes into the warmth of Blaine’s mouth, Kurt sort of does fall asleep but only for a minute or ten.
“Blaine,” Kurt says, stirring back awake, voice fuzzy with sleep. “Let me take care of you. Or you can come on me?” He really doesn’t want that all that much, not when he’s so tired but he does love feeling Blaine over him, that final stutter of Blaine’s hips when he starts coming.
“No, it’s okay,” Blaine says, getting up to finish undressing, stripping to his briefs. “Rain check until the morning? Come on, let’s go brush our teeth.”
Kurt grumbles but he does manage to get up, even does a half-assed version of his nightly skincare routine. Peering through heavy lids at his face in the mirror (and god, he can’t wait for the bathroom to be remodeled), he sighs. “Forty.”
Blaine stands behind him, resting his chin over Kurt’s shoulder and hugging him from behind. “And all mine.” Blaine’s breath is minty and he leaves a loud, smacking kiss against Kurt’s cheek when he breaks away, shuffling off to bed.
Kurt spoons behind Blaine, appreciating the familiarity of the position, they’ve fallen asleep like this so many times over the years. “Are you really sure you don’t want to—?”
“You’ll make it up to me,” Blaine says. “It’s fine. Good night. Happy birthday?”
“Happy birthday,” Kurt agrees, kissing the delicate skin behind Blaine’s ear. Yet, there’s still a niggling worry that their supposed night of recklessness has been anything but that.
Kurt goes to sleep uneasily, wondering if they really have gotten too complacent.
The best thing about having a free day after your birthday (and taking off on your actual birthday): sleeping in late. Although Kurt’s version of late is still relatively early as he’s still attuned to getting up to make sure Jocelyn’s ready for the day. Still, it’s a luxury, stretching across the empty bed and knowing he’s not in a rush for anything. He desperately needs coffee but as he walks down the hallway and hears the shower running, he has a much better idea.
“Oh hi,” Blaine says as Kurt slides behind him in the shower. He’s gathered his hair into a shampoo Mohawk and hurriedly washes it out, which allows Kurt to take in the lovely way Blaine’s eyelashes fan out when his eyes close. He turns around when he’s done washing his hair out, letting Kurt slide his hands over his hips. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“What, I can’t surprise my husband?” Kurt asks, chuckling lowly. He starts kissing down Blaine’s back, making it to the fine taper of his waist, briefly nuzzling his ass before he puts a little pressure at Blaine’s hip to encourage Blaine to turn and face him. What he’s faced with is, well, not what he expected.
“You’re not hard,” he says dumbly, standing up because he really doesn’t want to have to look at the evidence of Blaine’s disinterest.
“Oh.” Blaine scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “I took care of it before you got here. I didn’t think you’d be awake so soon.”
“It’s okay! Um, I mean, it’s not like, I could—you, I could totally take care of you.”
“You already did last night.”
“Kurt,” Blaine says, a little hurt lacing his tone. “We don’t keep count.”
“Look, I’ll get out. You finish your shower.”
“No.” Blaine grabs him round the middle, which means Kurt’s dick presses in the soft slope of Blaine’s belly, and Kurt can’t help thrusting forward. “Please don’t leave on my account.”
“You haven’t finished conditioning your hair.”
Blaine considers that. “Do it for me.”
Kurt frowns. “I should’ve never told you how much I loved doing that.”
“Well, I love it just as much as you love it and I love you so,” Blaine tosses his hair back, not quite worthy of a shampoo commercial but convincing enough.
“Fine, fine,” Kurt says, pretending to be put out. “The things I do for the man I love.”
“The things you better let me do for you later,” Blaine says as he turns around, tipping his head back, and then to make Kurt laugh (and okay, gasp) sticking his ass out.
“The ass that broke the internet.”
“Just a gossip site,” Blaine says, embarrassment creeping into his voice. Kurt slaps him then, the wet smack not particularly hard, just to make Blaine gasp and then laugh. “Okay, maybe more than just one website. Still looks good?”
Kurt takes a moment to inspect the goods. “Still looks amazing.”
“So what, do I just go order up some bondage and repurpose our nursery into a sex dungeon,” Kurt asks Rachel, in her apartment, still a bit uncomfortable a week later about the awkward shower incident with Blaine. They’re finishing a few last minute details as they wait for Rachel’s vegan cookies to finish baking. A Rachel Berry dinner party is not without a special take home gift to the guests and she’d given out autographed photos of herself last time, so baked goods it is.
Rachel considers this as she tries to get a napkin folded as exquisitely as Kurt’s.
“I attended a few seminars at Babeland. They were very enlightening. Though perhaps a little geared towards the female orgasm. I assume you’ve already become acquainted with the male p-spot.”
“Blaine and I have been having sex for over twenty years. We’ve gotten that part covered.” Kurt drops his latest folded napkin and turns to Rachel, clasping her hands. “Oh god, we’ve been having sex for over twenty years. What if we’re just going through the motions?”
“Sex therapy! I saw that once when I was watching a Sex and the City marathon.” She readjusts the wine glasses on her table just so and Kurt will have to fix it when she’s not looking. “Or you can hire a gentleman of the evening so that you and Blaine can have a threesome to spice up your love life.”
“And where did that come from? A Secret Diary of a Call Girl rerun?”
Rachel frowns. “Well, yes, but I’m sure it’ll work! It did for the couple in the episode, and it was really sweet.”
“I’m not—we’re not—look, we’re happily monogamous. I’m not going to share,” Kurt says, a vision of the very many times he has had to school his body and attitude in a fuck off, he’s mine posture to keep interested guys away from Blaine, who is still so seemingly oblivious to it all. “Seriously, there’s no way, Rachel. I am not bringing a prostitute into my bedroom.”
“I believe they prefer ‘escort.’ It’s classier.”
“It’s still tawdry and not going to happen. And we don’t need a therapist. It’s not that we don’t talk, it’s just that, well, we’re both so tired at the end of the day and,” it’s like a dam is opening and Kurt can’t help from rambling, “it’s been so uninspired lately. We don’t have much time to really be together besides little bursts of activity between everything else we have to do. We spent half a day picking out the right type of mirror for our bathroom renovation this week when we were alone. That’s hours of lovemaking we could have had but no, I had to argue in favor of a beveled edge. What happened to us?”
“You got married, Kurt,” Rachel sing-songs. “And I bet you loved every minute negotiating with Blaine until you got your way.”
Kurt grumps a little, feeling the sting of truth to her words. “The secret is to make him think that it was his idea all along.”
“It’s just a rut. You’ll get out of it. Quicker if you try that scenario on page—”
Kurt throws a napkin in Rachel’s face and kicks off the great napkin war in which neither of them can claim victory and only ends once Rachel’s cookies are ready to be taken out of the oven.
Blaine has been noticing that Kurt’s been staring at him all night as they watch the end of Cinderella, the Brandy and Whitney Houston version. Jocelyn’s nestled between them, radiating off extreme heat despite being curled up in her blanket. They’d started the movie later than they should’ve considering her weekday bedtime, but it‘s become a particular favorite of hers and she used the eyes.
“I should put her to bed,” Kurt whispers, smoothly getting off the couch and scooping Jocelyn up. She only murmurs a little, head slotting neatly on top of Kurt’s shoulder. She’s still small for her age and it tugs at Blaine’s heart to still see their little girl in Kurt’s arms. She’s going to get too big for this soon enough and he’s taken to savoring these moments.
Kurt’s phone is on the coffee table and it lights up briefly, set on vibrate.
“Can you look at that? Lola’s supposed to message me.”
“Your famous showgirl,” Blaine says, lowly to keep from waking Jocelyn up.
Kurt smiles fondly, shifting his hip as he steadies himself to walk up the stairs and to Jocelyn’s room. “She promised she’d let me know how the show went. And I want to make sure she took my explicit advice on how best to accessorize her look.”
Blaine laughs quietly. Kurt’s second-in-command costume designer is a complete sweetheart and incredibly passionate about the art of burlesque. The main interest Kurt has about her second illustrious career is that she gets away with wearing tons of feathers.
They’d even gone to a couple of shows out of solidarity. Blaine dimly recalls an evening with too many colorful drinks and perhaps getting up on stage at some point. Possibly singing Lady Marmalade.
He expects some gushing text, maybe a picture of her elaborate makeup. He does not expect a text, or rather a series of texts, from Rachel. The series kicks off with, the solution to your problem is so easy! Here’s a few helpful hints I found while searching for how to keep your man interested!
“So did she go with the divine angel or seductive siren? I bet her she couldn’t resist the mermaid. Turquoise is perfect for her skin tone.”
“Um, Kurt?” Blaine looks up, blinking at the contrast from the lit screen and the darkened living room. “Honey, why is Rachel telling you that the Cosmo tip about the donut really works? Is that a sex tip about…a donut?” His finger slips and a terrifying image opens on the screen. “Oh wow. She attached a picture. I really regret clicking on that.”
“Please don’t tell me it’s about sex.” Kurt hands are twitching, like he’s moments from grabbing the phone out of Blaine’s hand and throwing it out of the window. Blaine’s half-tempted himself.
“I won’t if you promise never to put a donut on my dick. Or—bite what? Oh my god, why would someone do that? It’s a disservice to oral sex.”
Blaine doesn’t mean to sound so affronted but he can’t help it and Kurt grabs a throw pillow and covers his face, smothering his sudden laughter.
Even in the dim light, Blaine can see how red his face has gotten.
“Oh honey. You. You looked so mad.” Kurt trills on the mad a bit and Blaine huffs.
“Would you like me to try that on you? Donut on your dick?”
Kurt sits next to him, plucking the phone out of Blaine’s hand and quickly typing, Never do that. Any of that. Ever. After a moment he adds, making a great show to Blaine, If you say you have, I’m throwing you a very public 40th birthday. And inviting press. He pats Blaine’s knee. “I think we learned our lesson about food in the bedroom ages ago.”
“Whipped cream wasn’t so bad,” Blaine says, sighing fondly.
“Well yes,” Kurt says, biting his lip. “Not too bad. But donuts, absolutely not. Plus I’m on to you and your pastry favorites, Blaine. You prefer Danish to donuts. “
“We had Danish the morning after we got engaged.” Blaine feels a little silly admitting it, but can’t help continuing. “It makes me think about that day. Every time.”
Kurt puts his phone on the table, and angles towards Blaine on the couch, all the better for a lingering kiss. Blaine hums into the kiss, leaning back and encouraging Kurt to follow, his body halfway on top of Blaine.
“Donuts make me think about airports, and travel. Not you,” he admits, voice low when they break away, Kurt making familiar paths across Blaine’s cheek, nuzzling his way back, then teeth scraping against Blaine’s earlobe. “Oh, more please, I missed that.”
Kurt pulls back. “I haven’t done that recently?”
“What?” Blaine asks, dazed. “I don’t know, just, please don’t stop, Kurt.”
Kurt settles back over him but he seems to be a little distracted. “We probably can’t have sex,” he says after a couple of minutes, breathing against the spot where he’s worked a reddened mark at the place where Blaine’s jaw meets his throat.
“Jocelyn might wake up early or, something will come up, and—”
“Sure anything could happen. So let’s fool around some more.”
“But I really want to fuck.” Kurt presses down, cock hard against Blaine’s hip.
“Maybe if we’re quiet.”
“Yeah,” Kurt says, hand slipping down Blaine’s back and palming his ass. “You could gag me. If you want.”
“I know it’s been a while since we tried that.”
“Try a decade. And I hated seeing you restrained. In any way. Kurt, be honest, what’s going on?”
Kurt avoids Blaine’s eyes. “I don’t want to fight.”
“We’re not fighting. Are we fighting?”
“Blaine, the thing is—”
“Oh god, you’re unhappy.”
“No, I’m not unhappy, it’s not that at all. I’m just worried. We’ve been busy and it feels like we haven’t been all that intimate.”
It’s nothing like when they first started having sex or when they would reunite after long times spent apart, due to distance, when Kurt was in New York and Blaine was finishing his senior year, and after they were finally living together (and then engaged, then married) and had to take jobs out of town. They’ve slept in the same bed for years now. This concern is new for Kurt. Blaine can sense the trepidation and he wants to ease it all away, even as his own heart beats fiercely.
“Let’s go to bed,” Blaine says, hand over Kurt’s heart. “It’s more intimate there.”
They will get past this, as they take off each other’s clothes, though they’re both used to these motions, they’re still careful. They’re quiet as they stand before each other naked. Blaine traces his thumb along the curve of Kurt’s bottom lip. “Lie down with me.”
“What do you want? I mean, I didn’t prepare myself, or did you want to—”
“Kurt,” Blaine interrupts. “Let’s do something a little simpler.”
Blaine can hear the faint disappointment but he presses on. “Remember how it used to be? When we just fucked up against each other? I always loved feeling you come on me—”
“You still do.”
“Yeah I do.”
Kurt looks at him for a long time. “I’m being far too serious about frottage, aren’t I?”
“And that’s one of the reasons why I love you. You always made me, no, us feel important.”
They don’t do much talking after that. Low murmurs of encouragement mostly, with Blaine praising how incredible Kurt is, as they spread lube over each other, cocks sliding together. Kurt throws his legs around Blaine at first, a genuine imitation of fucking, rocking up against Blaine. But when Kurt’s feet are planted on the bed, Blaine rubbing against Kurt, their mouths completely occupied in the business of keeping the other from making any significant noise other than a few gasps, that’s when Blaine can feel Kurt begin to shake apart, god, Blaine would touch him, feel Kurt come in his grip, but he’s fine with this. Kurt grabs his ass to make Blaine fuck against him faster, and bites down on Blaine’s bottom lip as he shoots across their stomachs.
Kurt cheats a bit by slipping a hand between them, or so Blaine thinks, only he rubs his hand in the mess on his stomach and brings up a bit of his come and slides it into Blaine’s parted lips.
“Fuck, Kurt,” Blaine groans, coming against Kurt, hips shuddering with the force of his orgasm. Fortunately Kurt has enough presence of mind to keep Blaine from completely collapsing on top of him. He’s flat on his back, Kurt pushing a clean hand through his rucked up curls.
“Mmm, that was nice.” Kurt kisses Blaine’s shoulder absentmindedly.
“I can be even nicer,” Blaine says after a moment, getting up once his limbs feel a bit less heavy. He takes care to clean them both up and bring Kurt a pair of boxer-briefs to put on once he gets back into bed.
Cooper likes to show up by announcing to Twitter, Facebook, and his personal website that he’s visiting his brother and “my amazing goddaughter.” Trouble is, he sometimes forgets to tell Blaine that he’s in town until he’s shooting a text while in a taxi. Or, when he’s hovering outside of Blaine’s dressing room door, leaning into the door frame and scaring Blaine shitless.
“You and Kurt aren’t having sex.”
“Rachel told me. Godparent code, you know, we have to make sure you guys are happy because look, I’m not ready to be a real parent—”
“You’re fifty, Coop.”
“I can easily play a man in his twenties. In fact I just filmed a significant role in Batman Versus Superman—”
“God, they’re still trying to make the Justice League movie happen?” He looks at Cooper’s hair, still silver-and-brown. “Wait, weren’t you up for the part of Aquaman?”
Cooper smiles, tousling his hair, and Blaine notices that some of the nearby chorus girls and boys are swooning. “I did. Don’t worry, they’ll CGI my hair. And you’re changing the subject.”
“Okay, first of all, we are not talking about it here.” Cooper nods but Blaine presses on. “And? We’re never talking about it ever.”
Cooper’s smile has turned into a mischievous smirk. Nothing good can come from that. “That’s not true. You got very inspired during your bachelor party—”
“Oh right. Yeah, that was a great party. I almost missed my actual wedding when I woke up the next day in Amish country miles away from a phone.”
Cooper boops his nose. “That’s the one. There were things said about my brother-in-law that I didn’t need to know. Until, of course, I used it as inspiration when I played Evan Everest.”
“That is the most ridiculous name ever,” Blaine huffs, hoping that Cooper won’t make him suffer listening to another long-winded speech about Cooper’s amazing struggles in the faux biopic set in 2010 where he portrayed a gay man who just wanted to start the world’s most successful gay dating app, though the movie, due to copyright issues, didn’t ever mention Grindr. Unfortunately, Cooper keeps talking, far too loudly, as he swings an arm around Blaine’s shoulders. He’s finished as they walk out of the theatre and Blaine wonders if he’s sprained his eyes from rolling them so much.
Blaine’s pretty sure Kurt’s got a copy of the movie saved on his personal laptop and because Blaine really, truly loves Kurt, he has never looked at Kurt’s private files. It’s also that he likes to pretend that Kurt has never watched the movie where my brother did semi-nude scenes including a drawn-out scene making out with another guy. Though they were invited to the movie premiere since it did air on HBO, Blaine came down with a case of the flu and Kurt decided to stay behind. Blaine is still only about fifty percent sure it was because he wanted to look after Blaine and not because he was worried about getting Cooper sick.
“And I’m saying, it’s okay if Kurt needs to be inspired by my moving portrayal—”
“Oh my god, don’t. Please. Don’t finish that sentence.”
“I’m just saying, those who can’t do, watch. Unless it’s Viagra that you need.”
“No, we’re—look, Coop, nothing’s wrong.”
Cooper looks skeptical but doesn’t say anything as Blaine directs him to a nearby Thai place. Cooper may still not really get Filipino food but he had a “life-changing experience when filming in Thailand” and always appreciates Blaine remembering about it and taking him out for good Thai.
Then they spend a good half-hour talking about said life experience, which Blaine is still convinced is drug-related.
By the time Cooper’s mostly done with his Pad Thai, he gets serious, putting the chopsticks down, which he had been using to make a point about living with the land instead of on it, which Blaine had tried to explain isn’t exactly possible. “Hey little brother. You and Kurt have been together for a long time. And we’re performers, so being with the same person for years is tricky. So come on, let me give you brotherly advice.”
Blaine warms to his brother for all of one second but leave it to Cooper to ruin everything.
“I made sure to keep the weekend free so I can look after Jossy—”
“Please don’t call her that,” Blaine mumbles.
“And booked you and Kurt a penthouse suite. Hotel sex. It’s hot because you don’t have to do the laundry after, someone else does. Works every time I want to spice up a relationship.”
“The longest you’ve ever been with someone is a year.”
“Dating coworkers is awesome,” Cooper says agreeably. “Don’t forget, I’ve also been a married man.”
“For seven months. Your divorce took longer.”
“That’s how long her reality show offered to cover our lives as newlyweds. It wasn’t meant to be. I was up for that Indiana Jones reboot. I don’t know why they went with Joseph Gordon-Levitt.” Cooper snaps his fingers. “What if you and Kurt got a reality show? I do have an in with HBO.”
“Thanks. But no thanks. Really. And you can cancel the suite. It’s not necessary.”
Cooper shrugs and starts brainstorming outlandish things to do with Jocelyn while he’s here, because there’s no way he’s missing out on time with his niece. Blaine finally agrees to whatever sounds the least improbable, with the caveat that he join in because he and Kurt are indeed fine and doesn’t need his brother to babysit while he gets laid.
Kurt overhears someone speaking to Rachel, which isn’t too hard when she has her phone on speaker as she’s still trying on dresses for a red carpet event (as Kurt’s approval is better than her stylist’s opinion). A male voice says, “Operation Let’s Get It On is all on you. Blaine wingman-blocked me.”
“Is that Cooper?”
“Oh hey, Kurt,” Cooper voice says. “Sorry Rach, I have to go, Jocelyn needs her awesome uncle to show her how it’s done racing go-carts!”
“You told my brother-in-law?”
“Not everything” Rachel says guiltily. “It was a last resort. If you and Blaine have been trying to be more modest around Jocelyn—”
Kurt flushes. “It’s not that. We can do just fine without someone looking after our daughter.”
Cocking her head, Rachel stares at Kurt intently. “Wait a minute, Kurt. How many times are you and Blaine having not really sex sex?”
“Well,” Kurt tries to think about what they’ve done in the last week or so. “I don’t know.”
Rachel is still giving him that fierce stare, crossing her arms. “Humor me.”
“Handjobs every other day and if you factor in blowjobs—” Kurt stops. “I guess about five days a week.”
“You have mutual orgasms around five days a week. And you don’t think you’re having that much sex with Blaine.” There’s a strange expression on Rachel’s face, half fond, half frustrated. “And this isn’t including private time? You know, solo performances.”
“Oh my god, never call it solo performances again.” Kurt pauses for a moment, throat dry. “Mine aren’t necessary private if you want to get technical.”
“Blaine likes to watch. He’s a very appreciative audience.”
“Kurt. I think you two have the best sex life out of anyone I know. Including my unmarried, younger than us, trying it all for the first time friends, who think they’re being so daring. You and Blaine are fine. You might be having too much sex.”
“I know for a fact that it’s possible, and no, we haven’t experienced that in ages.”
“Well, the fact that you are aware of what constitutes too much sex is, well. Wow, Kurt. So basically,” she says it all in one quick breath, eyes very bright, with either laughter or embarrassment, “you’re not having enough anal.”
“What?” Kurt says, a little guilty because, well, maybe. “We’re fine going without if we have to. It’s a lot of, um, preparation.”
“So you and Blaine aren’t having a sex crisis.” Rachel sighs and walks into the living room. She sits on her couch, patting the seat beside her and continues on after Kurt settles next to her. “Maybe you and Blaine should write a book. The Gay Fifty Shades of Grey!”
Kurt shudders. “I think that’s already been written.”
“Let’s just say I might have stumbled across things during an unfortunate googling incident. In fact, let’s just not talk about it.”
He’s shocked when Rachel actually climbs into Kurt’s lap, beaming. “Yes. That’s exactly it. No more talking. This is clearly all in your head, mister. So you know what you’re going to do? You’re going to seduce the hell out of your husband. Be the man of action you are. “
“If only I’d gotten a producer interested in The Spy Who Danced With Me.”
“You’re still my favorite James Bond.” Rachel squeezes his hand. “Don’t over think it. You and Blaine can work this out.”
“Sure, I’ll just need to come up with a fabulous plan.”
“See? Be the man of action.” She claps her hands excitedly. “Ooh, it’s like roleplay!“
Kurt closes his eyes. “Let’s not call it that.” Checking his calendar, he asks, “Would you be able to whisk Jocelyn away for special fairy godmother time including a fabulous sleepover next weekend?”
“Jonathan is out of town, so yes I’d love to,” Rachel says. “Because I’m her favorite fairy godmother.”
“You’re her only fairy godmother.”
Rachel beams. “I love hearing that. And because we’re friends and I want you to be happy.”
“I am,” Kurt says, “I just feel like I need to reconnect with Blaine and we haven’t quite.”
“Well, that’s what next weekend should be all about. Enjoy your own special married time.”
“Oh shut up.”
“Like you aren’t already planning the perfect outfit. What’s the pocket square color?”
“A gentleman never discloses such information.” He’s still working out what silhouette is best for being a seductive James Bond.
Blaine doesn’t know how he couldn’t have noticed how much he missed this. In other words, fuck, sometimes he’s still so oblivious. To think that earlier in the day he’s been happy about getting to send Jocelyn off to school in the morning and spending some time with Kurt before they had to head off to work. But to come home to Kurt dressed in one of his most fabulous suits, with a fantastic martini in his hand as Kurt had kissed him hello? This is perfect.
He loves it when they do things like this and he decides there’s not a moment to waste. It’s easy to slip into the love interest role, offering Kurt a ridiculous innuendo heavy name. Kurt made dinner and it’s definitely on the side of decadent, and they keep touching, hands drifting towards each other. Soon enough they’re walking into the living room and with very little effort, Blaine’s clothes are pulled off until he’s down to his briefs.
Martinis make Blaine dirty, though he’s sure Kurt didn’t make Blaine’s as strong as his own. Blaine’s tolerance has always been sort of touch and go.
Kurt whispers in his ear, “Let’s go upstairs,” and Blaine breathes out the yes. They make it to the bedroom with only a moderate amount of groping. Kurt pushes him to the bed, encouraging Blaine to rest on his stomach.
Blaine glances at the bottle of oil on the nightstand. “I like where this is going.”
“Patience,” Kurt says as he settles over Blaine. He’s taken his jacket off, bow tie undone and sleeves rolled up his forearms. He grabs the bottle and pours a small amount of oil in the palm of his hand, smiling down at Blaine. Kurt hands are warm as he massages Blaine’s back.
“Why do I have to go to a masseuse when I have you?”
Kurt digs a little harder with his thumb, working out a knot. “Because I need my hands for other activities.”
Blaine shifts a little, cock hardening at the dark undercurrent to Kurt’s voice.
“Hmm. I think it’s time for you to take off your briefs.”
“Kurt, are you trying to seduce me?” It’s a bad line read, sure, but Blaine’s a little too turned on to play the innocent seduced all that well and they have thoroughly debauched each other in fantastic, filthy ways over the years.
“A proper masseuse is supposed to ask that you take off everything. If you’re comfortable with that.”
“Melina doesn’t sit on my ass when she works on my back muscles.”
“Pity,” Kurt says dryly. “It’s a good seat.”
Blaine laughs. “It’s reserved for my husband.”
“Really? Maybe I should give it more attention.”
“Ooh, what kind?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“I have a couple of guesses.” Blaine is so glad he took a leisurely shower after the show tonight.
Kurt’s lips make a path down Blaine’s spine, nose bumping against the shifting muscles of Blaine’s shoulders. “God, you smell good.” His tongue moves back up, licking a stripe. “Taste even better.”
“Do you,” and he’s not sure if it’s begging or genuine anxiety, huh, they really haven’t done this in a while, “Kurt, would you—”
“Oh, Blaine. You never have to ask. You want my tongue?”
“I—” What Blaine wants, quite clearly as his dick presses into the mattress, is for Kurt to fuck him. “I want you to tell me what you want.”
“Now, there are quite a few things I could tell you. But I think you need to take this off.”
Kurt moves off of him and Blaine pulls his underwear off in a hurry, almost hitting a lamp when tossing it near the hamper. Kurt’s unbuttoning his shirt but Blaine climbs over him and takes over, peppering Kurt’s chest with kisses. “Say it.”
Kurt shivers when Blaine opens up his trousers, and Blaine is thrilled to see that Kurt decided to forgo briefs. There’s no reason to hesitate so he doesn’t, stroking Kurt’s cock and loving how Kurt twitches against his fingers when he rubs at the spot under the head. “Fuck, that’s, yeah.”
Blaine is stuck between the need to suck Kurt off or kiss him, so he licks around a nipple as a compromise. And because he doesn’t want to play fair. “You still haven’t told me—”
“You. Just you, Blaine.”
“Forever. I always—I just want to make sure you want me as much I want you. No, as much as I love you.”
“You don’t have to worry,” Blaine says, moving on to his back, and pulling Kurt to lay over him. “I love you so much.”
“Okay.” Kurt smiles, shaky but determined. “Do you mind if we skip the condom tonight?”
Blaine’s breath hitches in his throat. “That’s really okay.” Bareback is not Blaine’s absolute favorite but Kurt is extremely considerate about aftercare.
He’s back on his belly as Kurt returns back to his ass, palms on his cheeks to spread him open as Kurt’s mouth licks over the rim, sure and steady, offering not enough as Blaine needs him to push his tongue immediately.
Blaine’s cock is slick at the tip as he presses against the bed sheet. They are going to make such a mess tonight and it sends a thrill down his spine, or maybe that’s simply Kurt, finally pushing his tongue in and Blaine sobs in relief. He spreads his legs more, tries pushing back but Kurt’s grip is steady, thumbs digging in hard. Kurt flicks his tongue in that deliciously dirty way, where it feels like every nerve ending in Blaine has woken up and is begging is more.
It’s not that he’s tilting on the edge—there’s still so much to go—but it’s the first dizzying sensation of falling, the mere idea of it, and the promise of more. Kurt pulls away for a moment, looking in his nightstand drawer, rustling through everything, looking confused.
“Lube’s on my side,” Blaine says but before he can reach it, Kurt dives for it, almost kneeing Blaine in the side. It’s so ridiculous and fumbly that Blaine laughs and Kurt joins in.
“Sorry,” Kurt says, but before Blaine can tell him there’s no need to apologize, Kurt’s slicking his fingers and returning back to his comfortable place looming over Blaine, cock pressed against the back of Blaine’s thigh. “You’re okay?”
“We should just keep lubricant in each of the nightstands.”
Kurt laughs, a finger slowly pressing around but not going in because Kurt is an evil, evil tease. “First person to grab it gets to top?”
“I might let you win every now and then.”
“Really,” Kurt says, pushing inside. “Might.”
“Oh fuck, I can’t banter when you’re, almost, ah, there.”
“Not yet.” He’s using everything against Blaine, how much he loves the sensation of Kurt dragging against his rim, how he loves it when Kurt presses two, then three fingers deep, twisting and so, so slow and patient and Blaine’s already a wreck, and Kurt is still so hard against him and god, he wants his cock now.
Kurt pulls his fingers out and Blaine waits for Kurt to push his cock in only he doesn’t. “Can you turn around? I’d like to see your face.”
“Of course.” Blaine’s cock is heavy against his stomach as he settles on his back and Kurt’s hand rolls his balls when he bends down to kiss Blaine’s throat. He grabs a pillow from the top of the bed with his free hand and Blaine tilts his hips up so Kurt can place it underneath him. “That’s going to get so messy.”
“I’m more than okay with that.” Kurt realigns himself, cock thick against Blaine’s ass. “There’s a fresh set of sheets under the bed.” He’s pushing inside Blaine now, still steady.
“Such a smart husband. Fuck—oh god, you have such an amazing cock.”
“Compliments will get you everywhere.”
“Kurt,” Blaine says, “I like here. Here is really, really good. And please do not fucking stop.”
“I’ll just keep fucking fucking,” Kurt says, angling his hips with emphasis as he fucks into Blaine.
Blaine grips him tight around the shoulders, doesn’t really manage to do much of anything graceful with his legs, trying to keep them wrapped around Kurt’s waist but Kurt is merciless now, fast and purposeful, and all Blaine can feel is the drive forward, his body aching for release. He could do it, easily, pull at his dick until he comes but Kurt senses his need and takes care of it, fingers hot and still a touch slick, curling tight and that’s it, that’s all Blaine needs, coming apart and only managing to keep holding on to Kurt, his body tingling with oversensitivity as Kurt finally comes. It’s all so messy but it’s perfectly fine because all Blaine feels is the good kind of overwhelmed.
“I never want to miss you again,” Kurt says as he pulls out, collapsing off-center, but enough of his weight still on Blaine, keeping him grounded. Kurt remembered how much Blaine loves that, too.
“Never,” Blaine promises.
Kurt lets out a heavy breath. “Love you.”
Blaine walks in on Kurt with the new love in his life. “Should I be jealous?”
Kurt’s reflection in the bathroom mirror smiles at Blaine, small and careful but still so devastatingly perfect. He turns around to face Blaine, his hands curl over the edge of the reclaimed wood vanity and he drums his fingertips on the vanity for a moment, shrugging. “I don’t think you’ll ever have to worry. After all these years, you’re still my number one squeeze.”
Flexing a bicep and being as exaggerated as possible as he checks out the condition of his arm, Blaine nods, Kurt’s laugh high and clear. “You’re right. Prime squeeze condition.”
“Why does that still make me laugh?”
“Because it’s hilarious.” He can see the tension in Kurt’s shoulders, radiating outward and he asks, “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“I’m a little anxious. Three months, Blaine. We are going to be holding our son in three months. ”
“He’s going to be amazing. We’re going to be amazing.”
“We are amazing,” Kurt says fiercely. He nearly tackles Blaine when he hugs him, a bubbling squeak of joy pushed out of him in the collision. “We still have so much to do.”
“And we’ll do it together.”
Kurt pulls back. “We also have about twenty minutes.”
“We haven’t christened the new bathroom yet.”
“I knew you kept pushing for the larger mirror for a reason.”
“A sexy, sexy reason,” Blaine agrees, pulling Kurt into a kiss.