fic: thnks ft th mmrs (1)
pairing: Kurt/Blaine
word count: 3000 (this part)
rating: nc-17
summary: based off this AU gifset. Kurt and Blaine meet for the first time at Scandals... and then run into each other a second time in the place they least expect.
a/n: as you can guess summaries aren't really my strong point, I'm sorry :/ written for Angie, my angel, who made lovely aforementioned gifset for my Christmas present :3 this is my present in return. I'm guess it's going to be around five parts, so er stay tuned. title taken from the fall out boy song of the same name.
--
If you had of told Kurt ten years ago that he would end up as an art teacher at Dalton Academy in Westerville, he probably would have thrown his Julliard brochure at you and scowled disbelievingly.
If you had of told him he’d be spending his Saturday night at Scandals, the closest thing Lima had to a gay bar, he probably would have blushed, coughed and stuttered, denying it.
Oh, how naive he had been.
Of course, ten years on, Kurt wasn’t too fond of Scandals anyway. He was a lot more comfortable with sex, now that he had the chance to go to college - even if it wasn’t quite the Julliard he had been hoping for - and had more experiences, but he still turned his nose down a bit at the place. On Saturdays the guys were alright and there were enough of them, but Kurt...
He just wasn’t looking for any guy.
He wasn’t that same naive boy anymore. He knew true love wasn’t going to come waltzing in and sweep him off his feet with roses and ballads - he wasn’t even looking to settle down. He may be stuck in Lima right now but he wouldn’t always be.
He was still hopeful that he would make it out one day. It just wasn’t... suitable right now, when he had his dad to look after and his brother was settling down with his pregnant wife.
He might not make it to Broadway, but he might make it somewhere.
And until then, he wasn’t looking for love necessarily.
But someone who wasn’t going to fuck him from the behind and call him someone else’s name when he came?
That would be ideal.
The thing was, even though there were more gay guys in Lima than he would have guessed, there weren’t... an abundance.
To put it succinctly, Kurt had already had everyone worth having - out of the regulars, of course. He still kept his eyes out for the new ones.
And that was how he met Blaine Anderson.
--
Kurt was sipping his drink, his eyes sweeping across the floor. Between the flitter of lights (bright streams of yellow, pink, orange, flickering between each other, like ghosts, like flames, dancing between the air) he eyed the boys carefully (the way they moved like animals, bodies twisting and grinding and shaping around each other, they were messes, like they didn’t even know the space they were in), feeling awfully like a bird perched on its branch, surveying his prey. He sighed to himself as he was faced with nothing but familiar faces. The holidays were coming to an end and the next week he would be back at school. He did enjoy his job, but well... the break had been nice while it lasted.
He was almost contemplating giving up completely when a new body appeared in the crowd, walking in from the front door, a flash of eyes in a colour that mirrored the golden tone of Kurt’s drink, swallowing the sights of the place hungrily. And oh, the sight of him made Kurt hungry.
He was fucking divine.
He must have been about Kurt’s age, but god he could have passed for much younger with his tiny compact body, all tucked waists and curved thighs, accentuated by his clinging jeans and even tighter vest. His tanned skin stretched over taught muscle, thick lashes framing his eyes, batting against his cheeks like feathers.
Kurt felt his breath hitch when he realised that the man was walking this way.
He didn’t approach Kurt, much to his dismay, but leant over the counter to order his drink. Kurt bit his lip, contemplating the best way to get his attention.
Once he had his drink, the man leant back against the counter, eyeing the crowd, seemingly oblivious to Kurt watching him.
A little hesitantly, Kurt cleared his throat. “Hi,” he said as the man looked up. The man’s lips curled up in a small smile and Kurt’s heart beat just a little faster.
“Hi,” the man said back.
“Nice night,” Kurt said, kicking himself for how pathetic the comment was. Usually he was better at this - the flirting - but the right words were dissolving on his tongue, melted by the mere heat of the man’s gaze.
The man let out a little hum of response, his eyes sweeping up and down Kurt without subtlety and Kurt felt heat rise on his cheeks. The man’s eyes lingered and he gave him a parting smile as he put down his drink and sauntered over to the dance floor.
The rhythm of the music pounded through the floor, all pounding bass and heavy melodies. Kurt felt it in his bones, twisting deep in his chest, heat rising as he watched bodies pressed together, hands press against skin, none against his. Try as he might to look away, he kept coming back to the man, his throat drying out as he watched him, the way he owned his body, like he was aware of every fragile bone, every flooding vein, every thick muscle. Sweat glistened against the tanned slopes of his skin and he kept to himself, swaying his hips sensually, putting on a show as he attracted more and more attention. Kurt felt an uncalled for possessive tug in his chest at the leers he got, knowing that other men were imagining themselves with him, just seconds away from pouncing.
But before they could, the man’s eyes darted up, catching on Kurt’s and everything changed.
He looked at Kurt - not any of the other guys, Kurt.
Their gazes held and Kurt was surprised to see that the man wasn’t looking away. In fact, a smirk was broadening on his plump lips, still damp from his drink and tinged with red and so gorgeous that Kurt felt want ache through the pit of his stomach.
Kurt’s mind was made up.
He sculled the rest of his drink, slamming it down against the counter before whirling around before he could lose his confidence. The man’s eyes still set intently on his, Kurt sauntered over, pressing up against him. The man’s smile evened out smugly and his arms came to wind boldly around Kurt’s neck drawing him closer.
“What’s your name?” the man asked lowly, his voice achingly deep and sensual as it rung in Kurt’s ears.
“Kurt,” Kurt managed, a little breathier than he would have liked.
“Kurt,” the man repeated, weighing the name on his tongue, tasting it, accentuating the consonants. “I like that. Kurt… hurt… skirt… pert…” A dash of mischievousness flashed in his eyes as he lowered his lashes. “Flirt.”
Kurt chuckled softly. “Dirt?”
The man screwed his nose up. “Squirt.”
Kurt giggled, shaking his head in amusement. The man’s eyes danced under the lights and his arms around Kurt’s neck tightened almost imperceptibly.
“Sorry,” he said. “Words are… my thing, I guess.”
“Your thing?” Kurt teased back and the man rolled his eyes.
“I’m an English teacher.”
Kurt lifted his eyebrows. “is that right, Professor…?”
“Anderson,” the man supplied with a soft chuckle. “Blaine - and not quite a professor. Just a high school teacher. Maybe one day, though…
Kurt would tell him that he was a teacher, too, but his mind was a little too cloudy for a full conversation. He might have had a few drinks already before Blaine arrived and the adrenaline in his veins was heating up as they danced. Blaine’s palms practically burnt against his skin as they slipped under his collar, pressing into the first knobs of his spine. His lips were plump and curled up into a delicious smirk and yeah, the time for conversation was definitely past.
“You know, if my teachers looked like you, I might have had a better high school experience,” Kurt said teasingly.
Blaine rolled his eyes, a laugh on his lips. “I get that line a lot.”
Kurt raised his eyebrows. “Who said it was a line?”
The laughter died on Blaine’s lips and his eyes dropped a shade darker, his gaze heated as he locked it with Kurt’s. Kurt didn’t remember much of the next hour. It was a blur of hands, heat, heavy gazes, hips and a mess of lights and vivid colour flying past the cab window back to Kurt’s apartment, Blaine’s tongue in his mouth.
--
With fumbling hands, Kurt managed to pry the door unlocked and he was only three steps inside the apartment before he found himself tugged back and Blaine was pressing him up against it. Kurt panted hotly, his eyes locking with Blaine’s, dark, heavy and heated. He let out a wanton moan as Blaine braced his hands either side of Kurt’s head and lunged forward, seizing his lips in a messy kiss that ached with hunger and need.
Kurt pulled on his tie, tugging him closer until their hips were flushed together. He threaded a hand through Blaine’s delicious curls and wrapped a leg around his waist, both of them groaning at the friction as they pressed together through their jeans.
“God, you’re so hot,” Blaine moaned, right up against his mouth and the vibrations sent heat surging right through Kurt, who’s head knocked back against the door as Blaine began to kiss down his throat.
“Yes,” Kurt whimpered as Blaine began to suck against the base of his neck, Kurt’s fingers tightening against his hair and tugging making Blaine gasp against the newly made bruise. Kurt’s smugness of having produced such a response quickly dissolved as Blaine slid to his knees right there, reaching for Kurt’s belt.
“Is this okay?” Blaine asked, his voice raspy and husky in a way that made Kurt shiver all over.
“Definitely okay,” Kurt said, a little breathless as Blaine quickly unbuttoned his jeans. Kurt let out a shuddery moan as Blaine began to mouth at Kurt over the fabric of his underwear, kissing at every inch of newly exposed skin as he pulled them down.
Blaine moaned as he eased him out, taking in the sight of him, heavy, hard and flushed in his hands. Kurt’s eyes squeezed tightly shut, his head tipping back against the door as heat pooled tightly in his stomach, Blaine’s lips dusting feather light kisses over his skin.
“Blaine,” he said brokenly, “please-oh-“
His words were choked off as Blaine finally wrapped his mouth around him, sucking tightly. Kurt wasn’t exactly inexperienced at receiving blowjobs but fuck, he’d never had one like this. Blaine was just so eager - he wanted it just as much as Kurt did. And it wasn’t so much about pleasuring Kurt - although it really did - as pleasuring himself. He was hard and straining, rubbing himself through his jeans.
Blaine got off on sucking cock - and it was the hottest thing Kurt had ever seen.
Kurt could feel the tension in his stomach coiling up tight and he knew he was close. He tugged on Blaine’s hair hard enough to make him gag and Blaine looked up in confusion as he pulled off Kurt’s cock with a lewd pop, his lips a bruised cherry red.
“Was I doing something wrong?” he rasped out, his eyes wide and awfully akin to a lost puppy dog.
“God, no,” Kurt choked out. “I was just… about to come.”
Blaine grinned smugly. “That was the idea.”
“Not yet,” Kurt insisted, tugging Blaine to his feet. “I want to fuck you first.”
Blaine’s eyes widened and he whimpered, pulling his lips between his teeth. “Fuck yes.”
He let Kurt drag him to the bedroom, eyes fluttering shut as Kurt pressed him up against the door, kissing him, softer than before, but slow and lingering, sensual. With hurried fingers, Kurt undid Blaine’s tie, vest and button down, and Blaine shrugged it off his shoulders, throwing it at their feet. His chest was broad, tapering down to a tiny waist that Kurt longed to fucking worship. God, he was gorgeous.
He was so preoccupied with looking at Blaine that he didn’t even realize the other man was trying to get Kurt’s shirt off, struggling with his lack of help.
“Kurt,” he huffed and Kurt giggled, remembering himself and shrugging off his vest before quickly undoing the rest of his buttons, shrugging it off. Fully naked now, Kurt felt a chill curl around his spine at the way Blaine looked at him, something deeper than lust weighing in his eyes.
“Kurt…” Blaine breathed and yup, there was no mistaking the sheer awe in his voice, “you’re beautiful.”
Kurt swallowed thickly. He’d never been great with taking compliments. Hot, sexy, well… he didn’t believe that was anything other than the hormones talking, and he’d learnt to deal with those.
But beautiful?
To stop himself from having to answer, Kurt seized Blaine in a kiss, shoving a hand between them to undo Blaine’s belt.
“So fucking gorgeous,” Blaine mumbled against Kurt’s mouth but his words quickly dissolved in a wanton moan as Kurt yanked his pants down and got a hand wrapped around him, jerking him in quick, even strokes. “Fuck,” Blaine panted. “Need you now.”
“Get on the bed,” Kurt growled, and tore away from Blaine, grabbing the lube and a condom off the bedside table as Blaine kicked his pants off the rest of the way and climbed up on the bed, ass facing Kurt, all spread out just for him. He felt heat surge up his spine and wasted no time in climbing up behind him, uncapping the lube and spreading it over his fingers. Blaine mewled as Kurt worked the first finger in, wasting no time in teasing and sliding in a second. Blaine pushed back on them eagerly, moaning with a hand wrapped around his own cock.
“Kurt, please,” Blaine begged as Kurt slid a third finger in alongside the other two, twisting and working them open.
“Shhh,” Kurt hushed him, carefully retracting his fingers. “I’m nearly there.” Wetting his lips with a nervous drag of tongue, he ripped open the condom wrapper and carefully put it on before reaching for the lube again.
When he was ready, he draped his body over Blaine’s pressing a wet kiss to the base of his neck, letting his cock nudge between his cheeks. Blaine mewled needily, pushing back into his touch and Kurt lined himself up, gently easing inside.
Blaine let out a low, drawn out moan as Kurt pushed in further, wrapping an arm around Blaine’s waist and grunting as he eased in further.
“Fuck, you’re tight fuck,” Kurt hissed, because Blaine was, tight and burning and pulling Kurt deeper and deeper. When he was fully sheathed, he was gasping for breath, clutching Blaine close against his chest.
“Kurt,” Blaine whined impatiently as Kurt tried to catch his breath, “fuck me.”
Kurt hit his ass gently but Blaine mewled out at the sensation anyway. “I was getting there,” Kurt chided, but used his grip on Blaine’s hip for leverage to pull out nearly all the way before fucking back in. Blaine moaned and Kurt repeated the movement, pulling him closer and closer against him, fucking him harder.
Blaine jerked himself off in quick strokes, panting Kurt’s name between the litany of moans and swears that fell from between his bruised lips. He tangled his free hand with Kurt’s that draped across his chest and Kurt buried his head in the crook between Blaine’s neck and shoulder, biting down hard to muffle his own cries.
Their bodies worked together, skin slapping against skin, beads of sweat pooling in the crevices between bones and joints, their lungs heaving with bated breath, gasps and cries falling from their lips. He could imagine what Blaine looked like, his eyes squeezed shut, face scrunched up with pleasure, heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. Kurt could feel it crackling in the base of his spine.
“So close,” he rasped, tugging Blaine by the hair so his head dropped back on his shoulder. His eyes were molten gold in the dim light of the bedroom and Kurt kissed him hungrily. Kurt reached around and used his free hand to replace Blaine’s, wrapping it around his cock. Blaine whimpered into Kurt’s mouth and Kurt swallowed the sound before breaking away, whispering in his ear.
“Come on, Blaine, I want to see you…”
With just a few more strokes, Blaine was spilling over Kurt’s fist, his tiny body trembling, melting back into Kurt’s embrace as he came down from his orgasm. Kurt eased him back down against the bed and Blaine slumped against the pillows, moaning in oversensitivity as Kurt fucked him until he came too, his hips stuttering against Blaine’s, his mouth on his neck.
Blaine whimpered as Kurt gently pulled out, hopping off the bed on shaky legs to clean himself up. He came back with a washcloth for Blaine, only to find that the man was already asleep. He hummed a little in amusement as he gently wiped his skin. Blaine let out a soft whine in his sleep but otherwise showed no sign of waking up. Kurt pulled on a pair of pyjama pants and climbed under the covers beside Blaine.
“Well,” he murmured with amusement, “I guess you can stay the night.”
Smile still playing on his lips, he turned off the lamp, and let his body sink back into the bed, sleep pulling him under in a heavy, unrepentant embrace.
--
Having forgotten to shut his curtains the night before, Kurt groaned as he came into consciousness, his body bathed in uncomfortably bright heat. He sat up a bit too quickly, moaning at the pain in his head, when it hit him.
Last night.
He jerked his head to the side, fully ready to face himself with an eyeful of Blaine, probably smirking up at him, his gorgeous body wrapped in Kurt’s sheets…
But the space where he had lain was empty.
And Blaine…
Blaine was gone.
Kurt sighed to himself, shaking his head. He didn’t know Blaine and Blaine didn’t owe him anything.
So why did it hurt so much?
--
part 2