Suddenly I See
Title: Suddenly I See
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If I owned Glee... well, let's just say a few things would be different.
Spoilers: No specific spoilers, although set post 2.16.
Summary: Kurt is reading Vogue. Really. He is absolutely not being distracted by his wet, toned, half-naked boyfriend.
Author's Note: So apparently what my brain does when confronted with topless!Darren photos is immediately jump to 'how can I give Kurt a reason to think all my very un-PG-rated thoughts about this?'
Thanks to: pinkfairy727 who read this over for me and bounced ideas with me!
Suddenly I See
Kurt is reading his magazine. He is. The reason he hasn’t actually turned a page in fifteen minutes? Well, it’s an interesting article.
It has absolutely nothing to do with the noisy, splashing crowd at the shallow end of the pool right in front of him. Or the fact that his wet, toned, half-naked boyfriend is among them.
Nothing.
He hasn’t noticed the way sun glints off his damp skin, or the play of muscles on his back as he splashes back at Puck, or the one wayward curl sticking wetly to his forehead.
No, because he’s reading. A new issue of Vogue is not to be ignored, after all.
He tugs the brim of his hat lower and picks up where he left off. Midway through the second sentence.
Okay, so maybe his attention hasn’t been fully on the latest news from the fashion world.
He makes it as far as the end of the first paragraph before his eyes creep upwards again, just in time to see Blaine levering himself onto the edge of the pool, water sluicing down his body, leaving it glistening in the sunshine… very distractingly.
Kurt vaguely notices his magazine dropping into his lap as he watches Blaine clamber to his feet; with all that golden skin on display, he can hardly be expected not to look, after all.
Even from this distance, he can see trails of water trickling across Blaine’s chest, and startles himself with just how much he wants to follow them with his tongue. All the way down to the waistband of the swimshorts that really, really hadn’t clung to his thighs like that before he’d gone into the pool.
He takes a deep breath, trying to calm both his suddenly thumping heart and the rush of practically pornographic images that have flooded his brain. It’s not even like it’s the first time he’s seen Blaine shirtless - although that pleasure is still new enough to give him tingles in his fingers all on its own - but something about the naked chest plus the water plus the utterly indecent way those shorts are moulding themselves to his legs… it’s a little overwhelming.
And it doesn’t get any less so when Blaine is standing right there in front of him, smiling down at him like that, with that fond, soft-lipped smile Kurt knows Blaine reserves only for him.
“Aren’t you coming in?” he says, and Kurt has to parse the sentence several times before his brain can make any sense of it; he’s too busy watching the way Blaine flicks his head to stop the water from his hair dripping into his eyes. “The water’s lovely in this weather.”
Kurt is quite sure it is - it’s unseasonably warm, even for early June - but he has no plans whatsoever to get in. This shady corner, and his wide-brimmed hat, are a much safer option.
He shakes his head. “Not all of us are blessed with your naturally resilient skin tone,” he smiles. “I barely even have to look at the sun and I burn.”
Blaine’s head drops to the side, an eyebrow raising just slightly. “That’s what sunscreen is for, Kurt,” he says, his tone just a little mocking.
Kurt narrows his eyes, just for a second. “I already have SPF100 on every bit of skin the sun can get to,” he replies. “You know I take skincare seriously.”
“So you slap it on a bit more skin,” Blaine reasons, swaying a little. “Come on, you know you want to.” He grins, cheekiness tempered with just a little shyness. “I’ll even rub the sunscreen on your back for you myself.”
A shiver runs through Kurt at the thought, the image, phantom fingertips tracing his shoulders, his back, the curve of his ass... He shakes himself before his mind can go any further; it’s getting harder and harder to hold back the increasingly explicit fantasies his brain comes up with whenever he’s around Blaine these days.
“You just want to get my shirt off,” he answers finally, his voice as normal as he can get it, a hint of a smirk playing around his lips.
Blaine shrugs a little, and doesn’t deny it.
Kurt presses his lips together and reminds himself of all the reasons why letting Blaine get his hands all over his bare skin in front of all their friends is a terrible, terrible, tempting, but terrible idea.
“As tempting as that is,” he pushes out, “I think I’m fine right here.” He picks up the almost forgotten magazine from his lap. “The new Vogue won’t read itself, after all.”
“Well, if you won’t come to the pool…” The glint in Blaine’s eyes gives him barely a fraction of a second’s notice before he’s being dripped on as Blaine leans over his lounger, hands coming to rest on the armrests.
“Blaine!” he protests, dropping the magazine over the side and bringing his hands up to protect his face and torso. “You’re getting me all wet! You’re still dripping everywhere!”
A moment later, he finds himself with a lapful of very wet, very smug boyfriend. “That,” Blaine says, his face just inches away, “is precisely the point.”
And when his lips cover Kurt’s in a gentle, tender kiss, he discovers that he really doesn’t have it in him to complain.
-end-
Comments are adored
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If I owned Glee... well, let's just say a few things would be different.
Spoilers: No specific spoilers, although set post 2.16.
Summary: Kurt is reading Vogue. Really. He is absolutely not being distracted by his wet, toned, half-naked boyfriend.
Author's Note: So apparently what my brain does when confronted with topless!Darren photos is immediately jump to 'how can I give Kurt a reason to think all my very un-PG-rated thoughts about this?'
Thanks to: pinkfairy727 who read this over for me and bounced ideas with me!
Suddenly I See
Kurt is reading his magazine. He is. The reason he hasn’t actually turned a page in fifteen minutes? Well, it’s an interesting article.
It has absolutely nothing to do with the noisy, splashing crowd at the shallow end of the pool right in front of him. Or the fact that his wet, toned, half-naked boyfriend is among them.
Nothing.
He hasn’t noticed the way sun glints off his damp skin, or the play of muscles on his back as he splashes back at Puck, or the one wayward curl sticking wetly to his forehead.
No, because he’s reading. A new issue of Vogue is not to be ignored, after all.
He tugs the brim of his hat lower and picks up where he left off. Midway through the second sentence.
Okay, so maybe his attention hasn’t been fully on the latest news from the fashion world.
He makes it as far as the end of the first paragraph before his eyes creep upwards again, just in time to see Blaine levering himself onto the edge of the pool, water sluicing down his body, leaving it glistening in the sunshine… very distractingly.
Kurt vaguely notices his magazine dropping into his lap as he watches Blaine clamber to his feet; with all that golden skin on display, he can hardly be expected not to look, after all.
Even from this distance, he can see trails of water trickling across Blaine’s chest, and startles himself with just how much he wants to follow them with his tongue. All the way down to the waistband of the swimshorts that really, really hadn’t clung to his thighs like that before he’d gone into the pool.
He takes a deep breath, trying to calm both his suddenly thumping heart and the rush of practically pornographic images that have flooded his brain. It’s not even like it’s the first time he’s seen Blaine shirtless - although that pleasure is still new enough to give him tingles in his fingers all on its own - but something about the naked chest plus the water plus the utterly indecent way those shorts are moulding themselves to his legs… it’s a little overwhelming.
And it doesn’t get any less so when Blaine is standing right there in front of him, smiling down at him like that, with that fond, soft-lipped smile Kurt knows Blaine reserves only for him.
“Aren’t you coming in?” he says, and Kurt has to parse the sentence several times before his brain can make any sense of it; he’s too busy watching the way Blaine flicks his head to stop the water from his hair dripping into his eyes. “The water’s lovely in this weather.”
Kurt is quite sure it is - it’s unseasonably warm, even for early June - but he has no plans whatsoever to get in. This shady corner, and his wide-brimmed hat, are a much safer option.
He shakes his head. “Not all of us are blessed with your naturally resilient skin tone,” he smiles. “I barely even have to look at the sun and I burn.”
Blaine’s head drops to the side, an eyebrow raising just slightly. “That’s what sunscreen is for, Kurt,” he says, his tone just a little mocking.
Kurt narrows his eyes, just for a second. “I already have SPF100 on every bit of skin the sun can get to,” he replies. “You know I take skincare seriously.”
“So you slap it on a bit more skin,” Blaine reasons, swaying a little. “Come on, you know you want to.” He grins, cheekiness tempered with just a little shyness. “I’ll even rub the sunscreen on your back for you myself.”
A shiver runs through Kurt at the thought, the image, phantom fingertips tracing his shoulders, his back, the curve of his ass... He shakes himself before his mind can go any further; it’s getting harder and harder to hold back the increasingly explicit fantasies his brain comes up with whenever he’s around Blaine these days.
“You just want to get my shirt off,” he answers finally, his voice as normal as he can get it, a hint of a smirk playing around his lips.
Blaine shrugs a little, and doesn’t deny it.
Kurt presses his lips together and reminds himself of all the reasons why letting Blaine get his hands all over his bare skin in front of all their friends is a terrible, terrible, tempting, but terrible idea.
“As tempting as that is,” he pushes out, “I think I’m fine right here.” He picks up the almost forgotten magazine from his lap. “The new Vogue won’t read itself, after all.”
“Well, if you won’t come to the pool…” The glint in Blaine’s eyes gives him barely a fraction of a second’s notice before he’s being dripped on as Blaine leans over his lounger, hands coming to rest on the armrests.
“Blaine!” he protests, dropping the magazine over the side and bringing his hands up to protect his face and torso. “You’re getting me all wet! You’re still dripping everywhere!”
A moment later, he finds himself with a lapful of very wet, very smug boyfriend. “That,” Blaine says, his face just inches away, “is precisely the point.”
And when his lips cover Kurt’s in a gentle, tender kiss, he discovers that he really doesn’t have it in him to complain.
-end-
Comments are adored