Hooked and I Can't Stop Staring, Kurt/Blaine, R
Title: Hooked and I Can't Stop Staring
Author: skintightsocks
Rating: R
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 3,200+
Summary: "You're sweaty and you're in those stupid tiny shorts and I've just wanted to put my hands on you all day, Blaine, god."
Spoilers: Inspired by certain promo spoilers for 3x06.
Warnings: Semi-public sex between two characters who are under 18 but of the age of consent.
Author Notes: We had to. Title is from the song "Baby Got Back" by Sir Mix-A-Lot. Look into your heart and try to judge us. You will find that you can't. No regrets. Just Blaine in tiny shorts. (Linked images also contain promo spoilers.)
"Are you sure this is okay?" Blaine asks nervously. He's clinging to Kurt's hand and looking around skittishly like someone's about to jump out and defend the door to the girl's locker room with a sword or something.
"I promise it's okay," Kurt says. "I've had a locker reserved in here since sophomore year. We're gay, Blaine. It's fine."
"But what if we see someone naked?" Blaine whispers. He's usually nowhere near this cautious. Kurt thinks he might still feel a little residual guilt from the whole making out with Rachel thing.
"Then you can lord it over Puck like I do," Kurt says, huffing out a sigh. "Trust me, this is a good idea. You don't want to change in the boy's locker room. It's not like the locker rooms at Dalton, Blaine. It smells, you can practically see the fungus covering the floor, and sometimes Puck throws his jockstrap at people when he's excited." Kurt shudders at the memory.
"Okay," Blaine says, taking a deep breath and turning into Kurt's side for a second to press a kiss to his neck. Kurt takes in a deep breath too and tries to continue to ignore what he's been thinking ever since Blaine bounced his way over to Kurt's car in those fucking shorts.
It's getting harder and harder (No pun intended, Kurt thinks wryly) now that they're so close to being alone.
"Right, right, here we go," Blaine says as Kurt pushes through the door. Blaine keeps his head turned against Kurt's shoulder, careful not to look anywhere, and Kurt laughs a little, rubbing Blaine's back.
"There we go," Kurt says. "Around the corner and no boobs to be seen."
"Like he'd know what to do with them anyway," Santana shouts over the row of lockers. "The closest he ever came to boobs were Rachel's triple A's."
"Hey!" Rachel squawks, and Kurt rolls his eyes, opening his locker and taking out his gym bag. When he turns around Blaine is leaning over, unlacing his shoes, and the sight of him bent over with his ass up like that is enough to make Kurt bite into his lip. Blaine's ass is ridiculously round and perfect and so, so close to spilling out of the bottom of his shorts. Kurt's about a second away from just stepping forward and grabbing when Tina laughs loudly from the other side of the lockers and Brittany whoops right as Kurt hears a loud smack.
And he thought he'd be safe from all the distracting spanking thoughts by avoiding the boy's locker room. Puck was also a fan of spanking, post-victory. Kurt had learned that the awkward way during his short stint on the football team.
Kurt bites harder at his bottom lip and heads for the mirror in the corner, astringent in hand. The ritual of skincare is always soothing - he can just breathe deep and relax and feel the toxins exit his pores and--
"Bye, boys!" Mercedes shouts.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do in the girl's locker room!" Santana adds.
"Well that leaves things wide open," Kurt snaps back before he thinks about what he just said.
"I bet it does," Santana purrs, and Kurt can still hear them all giggling as the heavy door slams shut behind them. Which means he is now alone. In the empty locker room. With Blaine.
With Blaine and his shorts.
"Well, at least I can change now without being worried about anyone walking in on me," Blaine says from behind him, and Kurt doesn't even mean to turn around. It's like his body is on auto-pilot and his mouth is getting in on the fun too.
"Don't," Kurt blurts out.
"What?" Blaine asks, blinking up at him. He's straddling the bench, his legs spread indecently wide and one hand fisted in the hem of his shirt like he was about to pull it up over his head, and Kurt's mouth goes dry. He has no idea what he's doing but he can't quite bring himself to stop, not when Blaine looks like that.
"I said don't," Kurt says, stepping forward, dropping the soaked cotton pad in his hand. It's a waste of good astringent, but he really doesn't care. Not when his boyfriend's legs are spread open like that and he can see the long muscles in Blaine's thighs flex. "Don't change."
"But I'm sweaty," Blaine complains, lifting his t-shirt away from his chest and letting it drop back to cling to his damp skin, and Kurt can see every hard line of muscle that covers Blaine chest and stomach. He just wants to touch.
"You are sweaty," Kurt says, stepping closer until he can reach out and run his thumb gently over the beads of sweat above Blaine's lip, watching the way Blaine stares up at him from underneath his long eyelashes, so hot and trusting. "You're sweaty and you're in those stupid tiny shorts and I've just wanted to put my hands on you all day, Blaine, god."
"Oh," Blaine breathes out, his mouth opening around the word, eyes wide and warm. Kurt has to bite back a moan when Blaine flicks his tongue out to lick at the pad of Kurt's thumb. "I just thought you were focused on the game."
"You were focused on the game. I was focused on you," Kurt says, sliding his hands down so he can settle his palms over Blaine's kneecaps, feeling the bumpy bones give way to soft skin above his knees. Soft, smooth skin that just keeps going forever, up and up Blaine's legs, his long thighs, curving over his barely concealed skin through the shorts. Kurt doesn't realize his hands are following the same path his eyes are until Blaine lets out a shaky breath, his hips twitching forward under Kurt's hands, but now Kurt can see him. The hard, long line of him in his tight, flimsy shorts.
Kurt takes a deep breath and slides his fingers just under the hem of Blaine's shorts, scratching high on his thighs and up to his bare hips under the shorts because he's learned that it drives Blaine crazy when he does that. Blaine doesn't disappoint, dropping his head back and letting out a rough-sounding moan that goes straight to Kurt's cock.
"Kurt, we're... we're in the locker room," Blaine says a little breathlessly, even though his hips are still pressing up into Kurt's hands, squirming because they both know where Kurt could be touching. "We can't."
"No one's going to come in," Kurt says. He doesn't know that, not for sure, but he can't bring himself to stop touching Blaine right now, not after watching him move around so much in those goddamn shorts. "The girls all left, and probably the guys too."
"I-- god, Kurt," Blaine groans, reaching up and grabbing onto Kurt's shirt. He's spread out beneath Kurt, his head tilted back and his hips tilted up and all Kurt wants to do is press him down against the bench and feel Blaine squirm underneath him.
"Do you want to go home?" Kurt asks, forcing himself to still his fingers.
"No," Blaine says immediately, tugging at Kurt's shirt, trying to get him closer. "No, I can't wait. You can't just-- I can't wait."
It's all Kurt needs to hear before he's groaning and lowering himself on top of Blaine, finally dropping his mouth down to meet Blaine's and kiss him hot and desperate. Kurt doesn't know if it's the adrenaline from doing this in public or if it's just the pent-up sexual frustration from watching Blaine during the game, but he's never been so hard so fast, his mouth opening with Blaine's so he can kiss harder, deeper. Blaine's legs are still spread on either side of the bench, thigh muscles straining from the effort of staying spread open underneath Kurt, and Kurt doesn't even think before he reaches down and grabs onto Blaine's left leg, hitching it up around his waist.
"Kurt," Blaine gasps, his hands sliding frantically around Kurt's shoulders so he can keep his balance and dig his fingers into Kurt's back as their hips press together, Blaine's leg hooking around Kurt so he can dig his heel into Kurt's ass. "Kurt, shit, that's so hot. You're so hot."
Kurt laughs against his mouth, sliding his hands up the smooth expanse of Blaine's thigh without stopping, tucking his fingers back under Blaine's shorts and beneath him on the bench until he can grab at Blaine's ass through his underwear. Blaine gasps again, rocking up against Kurt desperately and bringing his other leg up, hooking it over Kurt's hip so he can get the leverage to grind their hips together closer. Kurt shudders, feeling filthy and sweaty and amazing like this, with Blaine underneath him, legs wrapped around him, and heat pooling low in Kurt's groin from the friction of their hips moving together.
"I should wear shorts more often," Blaine says hot against Kurt's neck, his lips skimming up to suck at Kurt's jaw.
"Don't you dare, I'd never get anything done," Kurt warns, squeezing at Blaine's ass again and groaning when Blaine whines and bucks up against him. The jolt of heat almost doesn't even compare to the way Blaine's ass feels, warm and soft and big in Kurt's palms.
"All the more reason." Blaine nips at Kurt's bottom lip in a way that drives him crazy, teeth dragging over slick skin as Kurt tries to remember how to breathe. He lets his fingers dig into the soft flesh of Blaine's ass in revenge, hard enough to have Blaine arching up and tilting his head back, moaning, maybe even hard enough to bruise. Kurt lets his teeth scrape over the front of Blaine's throat, then, pressing hot kisses over Blaine's neck. He tastes salty and warm and familiar, and Kurt drops his head down to Blaine's shoulder, thrusting their hips together harder. Kurt can't believe how feverish and amazing this feels, frotting on a locker room bench with his boyfriend, but the last thing he wants to do is stop.
"Fuck, Kurt," Blaine says shakily. "I'm not complaining, but-- but you've seen me in shorts before."
"And I wanted to do this then, too," Kurt says, turning his head and sucking at Blaine's neck again, just to taste him. "Besides, it's just-- everything," he pants out, grabbing at Blaine's ass and trying to press him up even closer. His cock is throbbing now, and he can feel how hard Blaine is against him too. "Those stupid socks. Your socks should not be hot, Blaine Anderson," Kurt grits out, sliding his hand out from gripping Blaine's ass and trailing it down his thigh, until he can pet over the soft material covering Blaine's shin. The socks are still pulled up to Blaine's knees - of course they are - and just thinking about the way Blaine looked makes Kurt bite back a whine.
"Tell me about my socks," Blaine says breathlessly, letting out a laugh as soon as he says it. "You know what I mean, just--" Kurt does know what he means. Blaine likes to talk, but mostly he loves to listen, loves when Kurt talks to him when they're like this, when Kurt tells him what he wants, how good he feels.
"I don't even know," Kurt groans, bucking his hips forward roughly when Blaine slides his foot down and drags his socked toes up Kurt's bare leg, digging them in at the back of his knee in a way that shouldn't send heat twisting up tighter in Kurt's belly, but it does. "I just want to get you home and take off everything but your socks," Kurt says, barely thinking about what he's saying.
"I never thought I'd hear you say that," Blaine laughs, and even in the hot, sweaty haze of grinding together, Kurt rolls his eyes. He's about to inform Blaine that surprisingly sexy knee-high gym socks are not the same as neon ankle socks, but then Blaine whines and slides his hands down Kurt's back, grabbing at Kurt's ass and pushing him closer. "Please," he says, his voice raspy and desperate and perfect, and Kurt hitches Blaine's leg a little higher, pressing his hips down and rocking forward until he can feel the shape of his cock pressing up against Blaine's.
"You feel so good," Kurt breathes, hips rolling down in a fast, hard rhythm now, with Blaine scrambling to keep Kurt as close as possible, heels digging into the backs of Kurt's legs. "You look so good, fuck, Blaine, those tiny fucking shorts."
Blaine drops his head back with a whine, grinding his hips up with Kurt's mindlessly, flushed and sweaty all over again and looking so close to losing it. "Please, Kurt, please," Blaine gasps out, lifting his head up and staring at Kurt with lips parted and dark, heated eyes. Kurt drops his head down to press their foreheads together, smiling a little when he can feel some of Blaine's escaped curls pressed against his skin.
"Come on, Blaine," Kurt says, pressing his lips to Blaine's even when Blaine's mouth drops open, making these breathy "ungh, ungh" noises as his whole body tenses up, back arched high and hips pressed hard against Kurt's. It's hard for Kurt to feel Blaine coming in his shorts when everything is so hot and sweaty and blurring together, but after Blaine stops shuddering he slumps back down on the bench, just barely clinging to Kurt and letting out small whimpering sounds as Kurt keeps grinding his cock into Blaine's hipbone.
The heat is prickly and tight and Kurt's so close, but it's the sight of Blaine that does it, the way he looks collapsed back on the bench with his legs spread wide, a wet spot at the front of his shorts and his thighs still trembling and chest heaving as he comes down.
"Oh, oh," Kurt gasps, holding Blaine tight as he goes still and starts to come, his cock pressed hard against Blaine's hipbone. It's sharp and hot and intense in a way Kurt's never felt before, his cock jerking almost painfully as he comes in his underwear.
"Kurt," Blaine gasps out, voice gone raspy and low. He pulls Kurt down on top of him and Kurt goes, letting out a shuddery breath that has Blaine choking out a laugh into Kurt's hair, kissing the top of his head and stroking his hands shakily down Kurt's back. Blaine is warm and sweaty and perfect and Kurt doesn't want to move, like, ever.
"I think I have splinters in my back," Blaine mumbles, rubbing his hands at the small of Kurt's back in a way that makes pleasant little aftershocks shoot up his spine. He twists his hips down experimentally, smiling into Blaine's shoulder when Blaine grunts.
"You do not, this wood is perfectly sealed or else I wouldn't sit down on it," Kurt says into his neck, resisting the urge to cuddle closer. Blaine can't be comfortable, not being pressed down into a hard wooden bench with Kurt's weight on top of him, but Kurt can't bring himself to move quite yet.
"I was just angling for a back rub," Blaine says with a shrug.
"Oh, well I'll give you one of those anyway," Kurt says, tilting his head up to look at Blaine. "I'll give you whatever you want."
"Oh really?" Blaine asks cheekily, kissing the tip of his nose. "I think these shorts have magical powers. I'll have to thank Rachel next time I see her."
"Why on earth did you wear Rachel's gym shorts?" Kurt asks, scrunching up his nose when Blaine tries to kiss it again and laughing when he does it anyway.
"I don't have a gym class this semester so I never bothered to order a uniform when I transferred," Blaine says, stretching beneath Kurt and groaning a little when his shoulder pops.
"You could have borrowed my extra pair," Kurt says, rolling his eyes and hoisting himself up off the bench, even though he instantly misses being close to Blaine. He grabs Blaine's wrists and helps him up too, grinning when Blaine falls into him as he stands up.
"They're too long," Blaine huffs, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist and tilting his head back to smile up at Kurt. "You're too tall, remember? I borrowed them after Finn spilled warm milk all over my pants that one time and they were like pants on me."
Kurt leans down to kiss him softly. "They hit below your knees. You only think they were like pants because you wear your pants so short. I mean don't get me wrong, I appreciate that you chose indecently short over slightly too long - it worked out very well for me - but you do realize you just came all over Rachel Berry's gym shorts, right?" Kurt can feel the heat creep up into his face but he ignores it. His shorts aren't much better off, anyway.
"Don't say it like that," Blaine says, his eyes crinkling up. "It sounds creepy like that."
"It is creepy," Kurt says with a laugh, swatting at his ass. The smack of his palm hitting Blaine's ass is a lot more satisfying than it should be.
"She said I could keep them," Blaine says. "It's not creepy if I'm not giving them back."
"Still a little creepy," Kurt mumbles, pushing Blaine forward toward the showers. "Now come on, we're rinsing off before I drive you home."
"This is so romantic," Blaine sighs, spinning around and walking backwards so he can keep smiling widely at Kurt. "First you push me down on a locker room bench and ravish me, and now you're going to wash my hair in the shower."
"I never said I'd wash your hair," Kurt says, even though Blaine probably knows he's lying. He can't ever actually resist. Blaine shampoos his hair in completely the wrong direction and it wreaks havoc on his natural part. Blaine's under the very sorely mistaken impression that he can just gel away any damage to his hair.
Blaine steps back in close and goes up on his toes to cup Kurt's face and kiss him surprisingly deep, opening his mouth and sucking at the tip of Kurt's tongue in a way that always makes Kurt's belly swoop. "I'm not worried. I'm still wearing the magic shorts, remember? You can't resist me."
"Mmm," Kurt says, running his hands down Blaine's back and letting his hands skim over Blaine's ass, squeezing. He slides his hands back up just to slip them underneath the material of the shorts and Blaine's underwear, and this time when he grabs Blaine's ass, there's warm skin under his hands instead. "But you do realize you're about to take them off, right? Then where will you be?" Blaine's breath hitches as he pushes back into Kurt's grip, swaying a little on his feet.
"Oh," he says, nuzzling at Kurt's jaw and up to his ear, "don't worry. I have a few other magic tricks up my sleeve."
"Don't you mean down your shorts?" Kurt asks, cocking an eyebrow and squeezing at Blaine's ass again for good measure. Blaine buries his face in Kurt's chest and starts to laugh as Kurt backs them toward the showers.
Author: skintightsocks
Rating: R
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 3,200+
Summary: "You're sweaty and you're in those stupid tiny shorts and I've just wanted to put my hands on you all day, Blaine, god."
Spoilers: Inspired by certain promo spoilers for 3x06.
Warnings: Semi-public sex between two characters who are under 18 but of the age of consent.
Author Notes: We had to. Title is from the song "Baby Got Back" by Sir Mix-A-Lot. Look into your heart and try to judge us. You will find that you can't. No regrets. Just Blaine in tiny shorts. (Linked images also contain promo spoilers.)
"Are you sure this is okay?" Blaine asks nervously. He's clinging to Kurt's hand and looking around skittishly like someone's about to jump out and defend the door to the girl's locker room with a sword or something.
"I promise it's okay," Kurt says. "I've had a locker reserved in here since sophomore year. We're gay, Blaine. It's fine."
"But what if we see someone naked?" Blaine whispers. He's usually nowhere near this cautious. Kurt thinks he might still feel a little residual guilt from the whole making out with Rachel thing.
"Then you can lord it over Puck like I do," Kurt says, huffing out a sigh. "Trust me, this is a good idea. You don't want to change in the boy's locker room. It's not like the locker rooms at Dalton, Blaine. It smells, you can practically see the fungus covering the floor, and sometimes Puck throws his jockstrap at people when he's excited." Kurt shudders at the memory.
"Okay," Blaine says, taking a deep breath and turning into Kurt's side for a second to press a kiss to his neck. Kurt takes in a deep breath too and tries to continue to ignore what he's been thinking ever since Blaine bounced his way over to Kurt's car in those fucking shorts.
It's getting harder and harder (No pun intended, Kurt thinks wryly) now that they're so close to being alone.
"Right, right, here we go," Blaine says as Kurt pushes through the door. Blaine keeps his head turned against Kurt's shoulder, careful not to look anywhere, and Kurt laughs a little, rubbing Blaine's back.
"There we go," Kurt says. "Around the corner and no boobs to be seen."
"Like he'd know what to do with them anyway," Santana shouts over the row of lockers. "The closest he ever came to boobs were Rachel's triple A's."
"Hey!" Rachel squawks, and Kurt rolls his eyes, opening his locker and taking out his gym bag. When he turns around Blaine is leaning over, unlacing his shoes, and the sight of him bent over with his ass up like that is enough to make Kurt bite into his lip. Blaine's ass is ridiculously round and perfect and so, so close to spilling out of the bottom of his shorts. Kurt's about a second away from just stepping forward and grabbing when Tina laughs loudly from the other side of the lockers and Brittany whoops right as Kurt hears a loud smack.
And he thought he'd be safe from all the distracting spanking thoughts by avoiding the boy's locker room. Puck was also a fan of spanking, post-victory. Kurt had learned that the awkward way during his short stint on the football team.
Kurt bites harder at his bottom lip and heads for the mirror in the corner, astringent in hand. The ritual of skincare is always soothing - he can just breathe deep and relax and feel the toxins exit his pores and--
"Bye, boys!" Mercedes shouts.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do in the girl's locker room!" Santana adds.
"Well that leaves things wide open," Kurt snaps back before he thinks about what he just said.
"I bet it does," Santana purrs, and Kurt can still hear them all giggling as the heavy door slams shut behind them. Which means he is now alone. In the empty locker room. With Blaine.
With Blaine and his shorts.
"Well, at least I can change now without being worried about anyone walking in on me," Blaine says from behind him, and Kurt doesn't even mean to turn around. It's like his body is on auto-pilot and his mouth is getting in on the fun too.
"Don't," Kurt blurts out.
"What?" Blaine asks, blinking up at him. He's straddling the bench, his legs spread indecently wide and one hand fisted in the hem of his shirt like he was about to pull it up over his head, and Kurt's mouth goes dry. He has no idea what he's doing but he can't quite bring himself to stop, not when Blaine looks like that.
"I said don't," Kurt says, stepping forward, dropping the soaked cotton pad in his hand. It's a waste of good astringent, but he really doesn't care. Not when his boyfriend's legs are spread open like that and he can see the long muscles in Blaine's thighs flex. "Don't change."
"But I'm sweaty," Blaine complains, lifting his t-shirt away from his chest and letting it drop back to cling to his damp skin, and Kurt can see every hard line of muscle that covers Blaine chest and stomach. He just wants to touch.
"You are sweaty," Kurt says, stepping closer until he can reach out and run his thumb gently over the beads of sweat above Blaine's lip, watching the way Blaine stares up at him from underneath his long eyelashes, so hot and trusting. "You're sweaty and you're in those stupid tiny shorts and I've just wanted to put my hands on you all day, Blaine, god."
"Oh," Blaine breathes out, his mouth opening around the word, eyes wide and warm. Kurt has to bite back a moan when Blaine flicks his tongue out to lick at the pad of Kurt's thumb. "I just thought you were focused on the game."
"You were focused on the game. I was focused on you," Kurt says, sliding his hands down so he can settle his palms over Blaine's kneecaps, feeling the bumpy bones give way to soft skin above his knees. Soft, smooth skin that just keeps going forever, up and up Blaine's legs, his long thighs, curving over his barely concealed skin through the shorts. Kurt doesn't realize his hands are following the same path his eyes are until Blaine lets out a shaky breath, his hips twitching forward under Kurt's hands, but now Kurt can see him. The hard, long line of him in his tight, flimsy shorts.
Kurt takes a deep breath and slides his fingers just under the hem of Blaine's shorts, scratching high on his thighs and up to his bare hips under the shorts because he's learned that it drives Blaine crazy when he does that. Blaine doesn't disappoint, dropping his head back and letting out a rough-sounding moan that goes straight to Kurt's cock.
"Kurt, we're... we're in the locker room," Blaine says a little breathlessly, even though his hips are still pressing up into Kurt's hands, squirming because they both know where Kurt could be touching. "We can't."
"No one's going to come in," Kurt says. He doesn't know that, not for sure, but he can't bring himself to stop touching Blaine right now, not after watching him move around so much in those goddamn shorts. "The girls all left, and probably the guys too."
"I-- god, Kurt," Blaine groans, reaching up and grabbing onto Kurt's shirt. He's spread out beneath Kurt, his head tilted back and his hips tilted up and all Kurt wants to do is press him down against the bench and feel Blaine squirm underneath him.
"Do you want to go home?" Kurt asks, forcing himself to still his fingers.
"No," Blaine says immediately, tugging at Kurt's shirt, trying to get him closer. "No, I can't wait. You can't just-- I can't wait."
It's all Kurt needs to hear before he's groaning and lowering himself on top of Blaine, finally dropping his mouth down to meet Blaine's and kiss him hot and desperate. Kurt doesn't know if it's the adrenaline from doing this in public or if it's just the pent-up sexual frustration from watching Blaine during the game, but he's never been so hard so fast, his mouth opening with Blaine's so he can kiss harder, deeper. Blaine's legs are still spread on either side of the bench, thigh muscles straining from the effort of staying spread open underneath Kurt, and Kurt doesn't even think before he reaches down and grabs onto Blaine's left leg, hitching it up around his waist.
"Kurt," Blaine gasps, his hands sliding frantically around Kurt's shoulders so he can keep his balance and dig his fingers into Kurt's back as their hips press together, Blaine's leg hooking around Kurt so he can dig his heel into Kurt's ass. "Kurt, shit, that's so hot. You're so hot."
Kurt laughs against his mouth, sliding his hands up the smooth expanse of Blaine's thigh without stopping, tucking his fingers back under Blaine's shorts and beneath him on the bench until he can grab at Blaine's ass through his underwear. Blaine gasps again, rocking up against Kurt desperately and bringing his other leg up, hooking it over Kurt's hip so he can get the leverage to grind their hips together closer. Kurt shudders, feeling filthy and sweaty and amazing like this, with Blaine underneath him, legs wrapped around him, and heat pooling low in Kurt's groin from the friction of their hips moving together.
"I should wear shorts more often," Blaine says hot against Kurt's neck, his lips skimming up to suck at Kurt's jaw.
"Don't you dare, I'd never get anything done," Kurt warns, squeezing at Blaine's ass again and groaning when Blaine whines and bucks up against him. The jolt of heat almost doesn't even compare to the way Blaine's ass feels, warm and soft and big in Kurt's palms.
"All the more reason." Blaine nips at Kurt's bottom lip in a way that drives him crazy, teeth dragging over slick skin as Kurt tries to remember how to breathe. He lets his fingers dig into the soft flesh of Blaine's ass in revenge, hard enough to have Blaine arching up and tilting his head back, moaning, maybe even hard enough to bruise. Kurt lets his teeth scrape over the front of Blaine's throat, then, pressing hot kisses over Blaine's neck. He tastes salty and warm and familiar, and Kurt drops his head down to Blaine's shoulder, thrusting their hips together harder. Kurt can't believe how feverish and amazing this feels, frotting on a locker room bench with his boyfriend, but the last thing he wants to do is stop.
"Fuck, Kurt," Blaine says shakily. "I'm not complaining, but-- but you've seen me in shorts before."
"And I wanted to do this then, too," Kurt says, turning his head and sucking at Blaine's neck again, just to taste him. "Besides, it's just-- everything," he pants out, grabbing at Blaine's ass and trying to press him up even closer. His cock is throbbing now, and he can feel how hard Blaine is against him too. "Those stupid socks. Your socks should not be hot, Blaine Anderson," Kurt grits out, sliding his hand out from gripping Blaine's ass and trailing it down his thigh, until he can pet over the soft material covering Blaine's shin. The socks are still pulled up to Blaine's knees - of course they are - and just thinking about the way Blaine looked makes Kurt bite back a whine.
"Tell me about my socks," Blaine says breathlessly, letting out a laugh as soon as he says it. "You know what I mean, just--" Kurt does know what he means. Blaine likes to talk, but mostly he loves to listen, loves when Kurt talks to him when they're like this, when Kurt tells him what he wants, how good he feels.
"I don't even know," Kurt groans, bucking his hips forward roughly when Blaine slides his foot down and drags his socked toes up Kurt's bare leg, digging them in at the back of his knee in a way that shouldn't send heat twisting up tighter in Kurt's belly, but it does. "I just want to get you home and take off everything but your socks," Kurt says, barely thinking about what he's saying.
"I never thought I'd hear you say that," Blaine laughs, and even in the hot, sweaty haze of grinding together, Kurt rolls his eyes. He's about to inform Blaine that surprisingly sexy knee-high gym socks are not the same as neon ankle socks, but then Blaine whines and slides his hands down Kurt's back, grabbing at Kurt's ass and pushing him closer. "Please," he says, his voice raspy and desperate and perfect, and Kurt hitches Blaine's leg a little higher, pressing his hips down and rocking forward until he can feel the shape of his cock pressing up against Blaine's.
"You feel so good," Kurt breathes, hips rolling down in a fast, hard rhythm now, with Blaine scrambling to keep Kurt as close as possible, heels digging into the backs of Kurt's legs. "You look so good, fuck, Blaine, those tiny fucking shorts."
Blaine drops his head back with a whine, grinding his hips up with Kurt's mindlessly, flushed and sweaty all over again and looking so close to losing it. "Please, Kurt, please," Blaine gasps out, lifting his head up and staring at Kurt with lips parted and dark, heated eyes. Kurt drops his head down to press their foreheads together, smiling a little when he can feel some of Blaine's escaped curls pressed against his skin.
"Come on, Blaine," Kurt says, pressing his lips to Blaine's even when Blaine's mouth drops open, making these breathy "ungh, ungh" noises as his whole body tenses up, back arched high and hips pressed hard against Kurt's. It's hard for Kurt to feel Blaine coming in his shorts when everything is so hot and sweaty and blurring together, but after Blaine stops shuddering he slumps back down on the bench, just barely clinging to Kurt and letting out small whimpering sounds as Kurt keeps grinding his cock into Blaine's hipbone.
The heat is prickly and tight and Kurt's so close, but it's the sight of Blaine that does it, the way he looks collapsed back on the bench with his legs spread wide, a wet spot at the front of his shorts and his thighs still trembling and chest heaving as he comes down.
"Oh, oh," Kurt gasps, holding Blaine tight as he goes still and starts to come, his cock pressed hard against Blaine's hipbone. It's sharp and hot and intense in a way Kurt's never felt before, his cock jerking almost painfully as he comes in his underwear.
"Kurt," Blaine gasps out, voice gone raspy and low. He pulls Kurt down on top of him and Kurt goes, letting out a shuddery breath that has Blaine choking out a laugh into Kurt's hair, kissing the top of his head and stroking his hands shakily down Kurt's back. Blaine is warm and sweaty and perfect and Kurt doesn't want to move, like, ever.
"I think I have splinters in my back," Blaine mumbles, rubbing his hands at the small of Kurt's back in a way that makes pleasant little aftershocks shoot up his spine. He twists his hips down experimentally, smiling into Blaine's shoulder when Blaine grunts.
"You do not, this wood is perfectly sealed or else I wouldn't sit down on it," Kurt says into his neck, resisting the urge to cuddle closer. Blaine can't be comfortable, not being pressed down into a hard wooden bench with Kurt's weight on top of him, but Kurt can't bring himself to move quite yet.
"I was just angling for a back rub," Blaine says with a shrug.
"Oh, well I'll give you one of those anyway," Kurt says, tilting his head up to look at Blaine. "I'll give you whatever you want."
"Oh really?" Blaine asks cheekily, kissing the tip of his nose. "I think these shorts have magical powers. I'll have to thank Rachel next time I see her."
"Why on earth did you wear Rachel's gym shorts?" Kurt asks, scrunching up his nose when Blaine tries to kiss it again and laughing when he does it anyway.
"I don't have a gym class this semester so I never bothered to order a uniform when I transferred," Blaine says, stretching beneath Kurt and groaning a little when his shoulder pops.
"You could have borrowed my extra pair," Kurt says, rolling his eyes and hoisting himself up off the bench, even though he instantly misses being close to Blaine. He grabs Blaine's wrists and helps him up too, grinning when Blaine falls into him as he stands up.
"They're too long," Blaine huffs, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist and tilting his head back to smile up at Kurt. "You're too tall, remember? I borrowed them after Finn spilled warm milk all over my pants that one time and they were like pants on me."
Kurt leans down to kiss him softly. "They hit below your knees. You only think they were like pants because you wear your pants so short. I mean don't get me wrong, I appreciate that you chose indecently short over slightly too long - it worked out very well for me - but you do realize you just came all over Rachel Berry's gym shorts, right?" Kurt can feel the heat creep up into his face but he ignores it. His shorts aren't much better off, anyway.
"Don't say it like that," Blaine says, his eyes crinkling up. "It sounds creepy like that."
"It is creepy," Kurt says with a laugh, swatting at his ass. The smack of his palm hitting Blaine's ass is a lot more satisfying than it should be.
"She said I could keep them," Blaine says. "It's not creepy if I'm not giving them back."
"Still a little creepy," Kurt mumbles, pushing Blaine forward toward the showers. "Now come on, we're rinsing off before I drive you home."
"This is so romantic," Blaine sighs, spinning around and walking backwards so he can keep smiling widely at Kurt. "First you push me down on a locker room bench and ravish me, and now you're going to wash my hair in the shower."
"I never said I'd wash your hair," Kurt says, even though Blaine probably knows he's lying. He can't ever actually resist. Blaine shampoos his hair in completely the wrong direction and it wreaks havoc on his natural part. Blaine's under the very sorely mistaken impression that he can just gel away any damage to his hair.
Blaine steps back in close and goes up on his toes to cup Kurt's face and kiss him surprisingly deep, opening his mouth and sucking at the tip of Kurt's tongue in a way that always makes Kurt's belly swoop. "I'm not worried. I'm still wearing the magic shorts, remember? You can't resist me."
"Mmm," Kurt says, running his hands down Blaine's back and letting his hands skim over Blaine's ass, squeezing. He slides his hands back up just to slip them underneath the material of the shorts and Blaine's underwear, and this time when he grabs Blaine's ass, there's warm skin under his hands instead. "But you do realize you're about to take them off, right? Then where will you be?" Blaine's breath hitches as he pushes back into Kurt's grip, swaying a little on his feet.
"Oh," he says, nuzzling at Kurt's jaw and up to his ear, "don't worry. I have a few other magic tricks up my sleeve."
"Don't you mean down your shorts?" Kurt asks, cocking an eyebrow and squeezing at Blaine's ass again for good measure. Blaine buries his face in Kurt's chest and starts to laugh as Kurt backs them toward the showers.