They decided to take Blaine’s car. They would have to come back later and pick up Kurt’s, but it didn’t matter. The time they had spent apart since the gay bar fiasco had been hard and long for both boys, and right now they didn’t want to be apart even for the few minutes it would take to get to Blaine’s house.
The drive was almost silent except for the cast recording of West Side Story playing on the CD player. Blaine had turned it down low as soon as he started the car. He steered with one hand and held Kurt’s with the other. Kurt sat with his head pushed back into the seat, his eyes closed, his mind focused on the sensation of Blaine’s thumb rubbing over his palm.
They had held hands like this a million times, but suddenly it felt different. Everything felt different. The easy familiarity that had developed between them over the last few months was gone. Now there was tension, uncertainty.
It wasn’t a bad thing, this tension. Kurt remembered having the same feelings when they first started dating, when Blaine said “you move me,” and Kurt’s whole world had tilted on its axis and he suddenly had a boyfriend and didn’t know what to expect—back before they had restricted their hands to the northern hemisphere and settled into a comfortable routine.
Now Kurt’s world had shifted again, and there was no more routine to fall back on. But there was a new energy pulsing between him and Blaine, a low current that hummed just underneath Kurt’s skin. He wasn’t consciously thinking about what was going to happen once they arrived at Blaine’s house, but his body was taut with anticipation. He could feel his heart pounding. He tried to slow it down by inhaling through his nose and exhaling slowly through his mouth like he had learned from a yoga video.
“So your parents are out of town, right?” Kurt asked after a while. He knew the answer, but he wanted to reaffirm that Blaine’s house would be empty when they got there. Now that he had finally decided that he was ready, he felt like he would die if he couldn’t be alone with Blaine—like now.
His needed to get Blaine by himself so much that he hadn’t even wanted to go to the opening night after-party at Breadstix, even as Blaine’s date—and he loved going anywhere as Blaine’s date. He always felt a thrill of pride being seen with Blaine. Even back when they were just friends—when they went places as a pair rather than a couple—he had loved having Blaine at his side, people knowing they were together.
“Yeah,” Blaine answered, “my parents don’t get back until Sunday. You and I are both on our own this weekend. What great parents we have.” Blaine blew out a forced laugh through his nose but then added quickly, “I’m just kidding. Your dad and Carole are great. They had a pretty good excuse for missing tonight, with the election and all. And I know they will be there cheering you on next weekend. My parents aren’t running for Congress, so.”
“But they’re coming next weekend, too, right?”
“Yeah, I guess. They’ll show up and clap politely.”
“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not like with your dad. But it’s nice that they’re coming.”
Kurt loosened his seatbelt so that he could scoot over and lean his head against Blaine’s shoulder, his free hand wrapped around Blaine’s bicep. It was an awkward position, with Kurt bent sideways over the car’s middle console, but they sat like that the rest of the ride home, listening to the quiet hum of the music and the low rumble of the road beneath them.
“Are you hungry?” Blaine asked as they entered the silent, empty house, which always smelled a little too clean.
“Oh my god, you’re probably starving!” answered Kurt. “I’m so sorry! We should have gone to Breadstix.”
“No,” said Blaine. “I’m not that hungry.” They were standing in the foyer, and Blaine was backed up against the door as if to guard it. “And after what happened, I really just wanted to be alone with you tonight.”
“But I feel kind of bad that you’re missing the cast party.”
“Honestly, I wasn’t all that focused on West Side Story tonight anyway. I’ll feel more like celebrating after hopefully a better performance tomorrow.”
“I thought you were amazing.”
“Thanks. I guess I was kind of on autopilot. I’m glad it turned out okay—Rachel tried to give me a pep talk. But my heart wasn’t totally in it.”
“Because of me?”
“Because of how I acted. I was afraid I had really messed things up.”
“Well, I’m over it. Everything is fine, so you can stop worrying.”
Once the boys had made their way up the stairs to Blaine’s bedroom, Blaine turned on the lamp on his dresser and asked Kurt to wait while he got something from another room. Kurt set his messenger bag down on the chair beside Blaine’s bed and then stood there awkwardly, not really knowing what to do with himself. Normally, he would have plopped down on the bed and pulled out homework or a magazine—just made himself at home. Blaine’s bedroom was almost as familiar as his own at this point. Yet now as he looked down at the pink and green plaid comforter, it was like he was seeing it for the first time.
Kurt was about to turn on another lamp when Blaine came back in the room. “No, wait,” said Blaine. “I wanted to use these instead.” His hands were full of candles and candle holders. He dumped them in a heap on the bed and then held up one white votive for Kurt’s approval.
“Okay,” said Kurt. He watched fondly as Blaine began setting the candles up around the room. He knew the mood lighting was mainly for his benefit. Blaine wanted to make things romantic for him.
“Do you mind if I put on some music?” asked Kurt. “I have a playlist. It’s kind of like the . . . soundtrack of our relationship. I know it’s sappy, but . . .”
“No, I want to hear it. I like sappy,” said Blaine. He was pushing aside the trophies on his chest of drawers to make room for more candles. “It must be really long. We’ve made out to a lot of songs.”
Kurt let out a breath when he saw Blaine smiling over his shoulder at him. He was grateful for the momentary break in intensity. “True. I had to choose the most memorable ones from all our epic make out sessions.” He reached into his bag, took out his laptop, and began setting it up on the dresser. It wasn’t the best way to play music, but Blaine only had an old-school boom box. Of course if Kurt had planned this out, he would have burned a CD, complete with a fancy label, but it was all happening a bit suddenly. So Kurt was having to make do, and as much as he loved his boyfriend’s old-fashioned ways, he wished he would get an iPod dock.
“Hey, is ‘Candles’ on there? Because I’m lighting candles!”
“I see that,” said Kurt, rolling his eyes at his goofy boyfriend. “Also notice how you are lighting the candles, not blowing them out. That song is as inappropriate now as it was when your mysterious brain decided it was the perfect romantic duet.”
“So no ‘Candles’?”
“‘Looks like a solo tonight’? Really, Blaine? You are rivaled only by Mr. Schuester in your inappropriate song selections.” Blaine made a face. “But yes, of course the break-up song that caused us to lose Regionals is on the playlist. It is part of us after all, for better or worse.”
“I wasn’t thinking clearly when I picked that, you know. I was just trying to get in your pants.”
“Well, it’s finally working.” Kurt pointedly did not look at Blaine when he said that. He opened the playlist, and the first song up was “Teenage Dream.”
“And I will forever hate you for making our most iconic song a Katy Perry pop tune,” he said as he turned the volume down low so that they could barely make out the lyrics.
“Sorry the Warblers don’t usually do epic love songs. It’s just not our thing. As you like to say, top 40 shallow.”
“Technically you’re not a Warbler anymore, so you’re not limited to that.”
“The next time I’m going to meet the love of my life I’ll try to be better prepared.”
Blaine was finished fussing with the candles. He had placed them on both sides of the bed as well as the chest of drawers, where he was now standing. They created a nice soft glow, and there was just enough light in the room for the boys to be able to see each other’s faces.
Blaine turned his attention to Kurt across the room. “So are you going to criticize me for every song on this playlist that you made?”
“No, there are some really good ones on there: ‘Blackbird,’ ‘Fucking Perfect,’ ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside.’ I know it’s not seasonal, but . . . ”
“Wait. Really?” Blaine cocked his head with amusement. “I thought we usually listened to the cleaned-up version of Pink.”
“Um, that’s what I put on the CD in case someone else used the car, but obviously I prefer the authentic original version.”
“Okay. But it’s still funny to me to hear you say that word. It’s so cute.”
“Cute isn’t really what I’m going for tonight,” huffed Kurt.
“You know what I mean. It just sounds weird to hear dirty words coming out of your mouth. I associate your mouth with beautiful things. Like power ballads. And French.”
“French kissing?” Kurt wiggled his eyebrows, wanting to distract Blaine from this topic. “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?”
“Yes, obviously. But,” Blaine stumbled, clearly trying to backtrack. Kurt wished he would just let it go. “I just mean your beautiful, lilting voice goes with beautiful, lilting words, like French words. That’s all I’m saying.”
“That’s why I hate when someone says ‘Pardon my French’ when they curse. All our curse words come from the German, not the French. It makes NO sense.”
“Exactly. I know you hate that,” said Blaine.
Kurt realized he had probably told Blaine about hating the phrase “Pardon my French” before, probably multiple times. But he was nervous—they both were—and the conversation had gotten awkward. He reached for a new subject: “Hey, speaking of French, did anyone say merde to you tonight?”
“See, that sounds nice, even though it means shit. But nah, I got a few ‘break a legs,’ but a certain someone who speaks French wasn’t really talking to me, so.”
“I’ll say it to you tomorrow night,” said Kurt.
“Deal,” said Blaine, then softly: “Hey, come here.”
Kurt walked over to Blaine and stood there staring down at his twiddling fingers. He looked up when Blaine took his hands.
“I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” said Kurt. “You know I wouldn’t change a thing, right? Not even Katy Perry.” The song was about to end, and he wanted to make sure Blaine knew he was joking earlier. He knew Blaine got his sarcastic humor, but every once in a while Kurt liked to check in and make sure none of his witty banter actually stung.
“Neither would I. And you have to admit it is kind of a perfect song for us anyway,” said Blaine.
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I’ll never forget that day. You were so adorable in your fake Dalton blazer,” said Blaine, skimming his fingers over Kurt’s vest. Kurt rolled his eyes at the word “adorable,” but his indignation was cut short when Blaine reached his hands around the small of his back and pulled him close. “You naughty little spy.”
“See, I can be naughty when I want to be,” said Kurt in his breathiest, highest-pitched voice.
“I’m counting on it,” Blaine whispered low into Kurt’s ear before flicking his tongue across his earlobe and then taking it into his mouth.
Kurt closed his eyes and leaned into Blaine’s embrace, savoring the surge of arousal that shot through his body. “Can you believe that was a year ago?” he said.
“Mmm. What a year.”
“It’s been the best year of my life. Nnnn,” moaned Kurt as Blaine poked his tongue a little farther inside. “By far. No contest, really.”
Blaine pulled away, pressed his forehead to Kurt’s, and whispered against his mouth: “I know. Me too. Because of you.”
Their lips, already so close, fell naturally into a kiss. It started out slow and gentle, but soon their tongues were sliding together urgently. Kurt perched his arms on Blaine’s shoulders to pull them closer.
They kissed for a long time. The sweet familiarity of making out with Blaine, combined with the excitement of being on the brink of something new, electrified Kurt’s whole body. He sank into the wet warmth of Blaine’s mouth, relishing the taste and feel like it was the first time.
They teetered there for a while on the edge of their comfort zone, tentatively testing the boundaries. Blaine was kissing Kurt’s neck using more teeth than usual before their mouths came back together again in an ever deeper kiss. Kurt pulled them together tighter and tighter, trying to annihilate the nonexistent space between them.
He took a step forward and pushed Blaine against the chest of drawers, pressing their bodies flush with each other. This movement elicited a groan very different from the usual “mmmms” of satisfaction he got from Blaine.
Blaine started pushing back into him with his hips. That was it for Kurt. “Oh god, Blaine,” he whispered. “Oh my god.”
Kurt stepped back, releasing Blaine from where he had him pinned against the furniture, took his hand, and began to pull him toward the bed.
“Wait,” said Blaine. “You know, Kurt, we don’t have to do anything. I don’t expect anything. . . . I just want to be with you.”
“I want to be with you, too,” Kurt replied, a bit out of breath.
Blaine had stopped them a few steps away from the bed. “I just don’t want this to be about what I did the other night. I don’t want you to think I’m going to leave you for another guy if you don’t put out, or something.”
“What?” Kurt’s mind was a little fuzzy, but he had definitely not been thinking along those lines at all. “I don’t think that.”
“Because I’m not that guy, Kurt. I’m not even tempted to be that guy.”
“I know you’re not,” said Kurt. It was taking him a minute to figure out why they weren’t on the bed right now. “Wait. You’re still upset about the other night?” Blaine shrugged. “Sweetie, it’s okay. Really. This isn’t about that. I’ve wanted this for forever.”
“Yes. Although, you know what? In a way, I’m almost glad about what happened. True, you were being an ass, but at least it cleared some things up for me.”
“Like what? What a loser your boyfriend is?”
“Um, no,” said Kurt sternly. “Because my boyfriend is the opposite of a loser. He just has to get drunk and do something stupid every once in a while to show that he’s a real human and not some fairy-tale Prince Charming I made up in my head. What I was going to say is that after your bad-boy behavior the other night at least now I know how you see me.”
“You mean like that I’m attracted to you?” asked Blaine. “Because, uh, where were you all those times when we were making out?”
“I know. But sometimes I just wonder if you wouldn’t be more attracted to me if I were more . . . masculine. You know, less gay.”
“What does that even mean? I want to have sex with you—eventually, not necessarily tonight—and we both have dicks. That’s about as gay as you can get. If you want to know what kind of guy I’m into, just look in the mirror, okay?”
“I know. It’s silly, but my whole life I’ve been toxic, and you’re so dreamy and perfect. You could have anyone. And sometimes I just feel insecure and wonder if deep down you wouldn’t be more turned on if I were a jock, like Sebastian.”
Blaine gave him a look that said “not Sebastian again.”
“But,” added Kurt before Blaine could actually say anything, “after I calmed down and thought about it, the other night sort of put all of that into perspective.”
It was weird but true. Kurt had been wanting to go further with Blaine for months, but if not for Blaine’s misbehavior in the back of his car, he never would have been bold enough to declare “I want to go to your house” tonight with such confidence.
“Because I was so horny for you?”
“Yes, basically. You tend to reveal a lot about yourself when you’re drunk, Blaine. First it was your somewhat pathetic repressed wish that you could be straight, which you can’t. Then it was your repressed desire to jump my bones—which, by the way, you are now welcome to do at any time, please.” Blaine laughed.
“I knew you liked making out with me,” Kurt continued. “And sometimes we both have to stop and cool off. But it never seemed like you had a problem holding back. You’ve always been so careful not to pressure me. So I never really knew you looked at me like that until beer freed you from your gentlemanly restraint.”
“Yeah, I try to be very civilized about it, but I guess deep down I just want to maul you like a wild animal.” Blaine was smiling, but he kept his gaze toward the floor. “But only you,” he said more seriously, catching Kurt’s eye now. “And only when you’re ready.”
“I don’t know exactly what I’m ready for. But I know I’m ready to take away the false restraint and stupid barriers. We love each other. We’re in an exclusive, committed relationship. If we both want to do something, why shouldn’t we do it?”
“So no more hands above the waist rule?”
“No more rules.”
Blaine nodded in agreement. “We should just do whatever comes naturally. Until one of us wants to stop. Just do what feels good to both of us.” The words were very matter-of-fact, but Kurt could feel his face getting hot.
“Right. I think we’ll be able to figure things out. Looking back on it, I don’t even know what we’ve been waiting for.”
“The right time.”
Blaine went in for a kiss. They were done talking now. Everything was understood between them.
Kurt could already feel Blaine starting to let go. His hands drifted down to Kurt’s hips and then slid around to his thighs. After a few minutes of exploring, Blaine pulled Kurt firmly into him.
Rubbing their hips against each other made Kurt’s body begin to pulse again with need, and after a while he again started leading them toward the bed. This time Blaine allowed himself to be led. They sat down on the edge and continued kissing until Kurt stopped to take off his shoes. Blaine followed suit, and they both scooted back fully onto the bed.
Blaine pressed Kurt into the pillows and, half on top of him, went to work again on his neck, sucking more aggressively now. “So good” Kurt gasped, but he felt that they were still too far apart. It took only a little pull to get Blaine fully on top of him, their groins pressed together, and Kurt finally grew bold enough to make use of his south-of-the-equator privileges. Blaine moaned into his ear as Kurt cupped his hands around him and pulled him in closer.
Both were so hard by now that they could feel the other’s erection through their pants, and they started rocking into the tightness. Kurt gripped hard around Blaine to pull them together. Their tongues struggled desperately to probe ever deeper into each other. Closer. They needed to be closer.
Kurt wondered what was happening for a moment when Blaine pulled his mouth away and shifted his hips off to the side. Slipping his hand between them, he began to stroke the long hard line in Kurt’s jeans.
And just like that Blaine’s hand was on his dick. Kurt had imagined it so many times, and it was happening. He moaned and pressed into it, his whole body throbbing. He could feel the heat rising in his groin.
After only a few strokes, he pushed Blaine’s hand away. “Wait.”
Blaine flinched away like he had touched a hot stove. “What?! I’m sorry! Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I just . . . I just want this to last a little longer. And maybe involve less clothes?”
“Oh.” Blaine’s expression was a mixture of surprise, relief, and joy at the dawning realization that this night was going to be even better than he had hoped. He leaned in to kiss Kurt, lightly this time. They needed to slow things down. After waiting for so long, Kurt didn’t want his first time to consist of coming in his pants.
They lay side by side facing each other. Blaine was propped up on one elbow playing with the little chain that dangled from the scissor pin attached to Kurt’s vest. “You have such complicated clothes,” he said.
“I’m a complicated person.”
“It’s a little intimidating, with all the chains and things.”
“I think you can handle it.”
“You think?” Blaine began unbuttoning Kurt’s vest with one hand. Kurt watched, his chest heaving underneath Blaine’s fingers.
Once he got the vest open, Blaine started rubbing his hands over Kurt’s still-clothed chest, slowly pushing the vest aside. Kurt sat up so that he could slip it all the way off his shoulders. Blaine took it, folded it in two, and reached back behind himself to place it out of the way near the foot of the bed. Then he went back to stroking Kurt’s chest, and his lips found their way to a spot under Kurt’s ear. “So many layers” he mumbled as he slipped his fingers under the hem of Kurt’s shirt and tugged it over his head.
For the most part Kurt did not think, but only felt, as he was being undressed. His body moved on instinct to shed this last barrier between them. But there was a small voice in the back of his mind pointing out to him that, as slowly as he and Blaine had been taking things, clothing removal was totally new. And it was huge. Even though they had just slowed things down, Kurt’s heart was pounding in his ears.
With all the hours upon hours he and Blaine had spent kissing, they had, surprisingly, despite every opportunity, stayed fully clothed and kept the touching to a minimum. Was this because of the layers? Because of the rules? Right now Kurt couldn’t even imagine why. But he knew this restraint was not typical teenage behavior—at least based on what he had heard from the other kids at school, who apparently used every possible opportunity to make out in every conceivable place—the backs of cars, under the bleachers, in empty classrooms. He could swear he once saw a girl getting felt up behind the dumpster as he was being thrown in. Anywhere they could find even a modicum of privacy seemed to be good enough for most hormonal teens to grope each other.
But Kurt and Blaine were not like that. For one thing, they had plenty of privacy. Blaine’s parents spent a lot of time away from home, and after giving Kurt “the talk,” Burt Hummel had pretty much let the boys alone. Sleep-overs were still not allowed—not that Kurt had ever asked—but the rules, insofar as they had any, were pretty lax. Burt probably knew that the boys would do what they wanted anyway and was okay with it as long as he didn’t have to know any of the details and Kurt was safe.
Kurt guessed that things would have been different if he had been a girl. As guys, he and Blaine probably benefited from the sexist belief that girls need to be protected from sex, but boys don’t. Yet with all their time alone, they hadn’t really taken advantage of this one small benefit of being gay, until now. In fact, maybe it was because of the lack of adult supervision that they had set their own boundaries. After all, nothing is more tempting than the forbidden fruit.
So Kurt was aware but didn’t really mind, that he had missed out on some of the usual milestones of youth, such as getting off half-clothed in the backseat of a car. It all just seemed so embarrassing and juvenile, having to sneak around, with half your attention focused on each other and half focused on not getting caught. He and Blaine had made out in the car a few times, but it was cramped and awkward, and far too exposed for Kurt to feel entirely comfortable doing more than kissing. Once Blaine had tried to go further, and Kurt had tensed up, and they ended up having the conversation that established the limits of their physical relationship.
Kurt hadn’t really meant for those limits to last indefinitely, even during the times when they were in private. But Blaine had seemed okay with not going further, and Kurt was too shy about sex to push things himself.
Now it almost seemed silly that they had held back so long, but Kurt was still glad they had waited for a moment when they could have a bedroom, candles, and a whole night to themselves. It felt so grown-up to do it this way, so serious. But his and Blaine’s relationship was very grown-up, and serious.
And right now Kurt was having the seriously grown-up experience of pulling his boyfriend’s shirt off.
Stripped down to their undershirts, the two boys lay back on the bed on their sides, facing each other. They situated themselves so that they could look into each other’s eyes, with only their knees and arms touching. Blaine nudged up the sleeve of Kurt’s t-shirt.
“It’s hot how buff you are under all those clothes.”
Kurt just giggled. “Everything about you is hot.”
Blaine rubbed his hand over Kurt’s forearm silently for a few moments.
“I just want you to know how much this means to me.”
“Really? Because it’s not that big a deal to me.” Kurt couldn’t even get through the whole sentence with a straight face.
“I see how you are,” said Blaine as he reached in and tickled Kurt’s belly. “Aren’t you supposed to be a romantic?” Kurt giggled and batted his hand away.
“Seriously, though,” said Blaine—Kurt’s boyfriend was nothing if not earnest—“I know I’ve told you, but you mean everything to me, Kurt. I love you more than anything. And I always will.”
Kurt took Blaine’s hand and held it up against his, palm to palm. He slotted their fingers together so that their hands were fully joined. “I love you too. Forever.”
For a while they just stayed like that, holding hands, looking into each others’ eyes, seeing each other as though for the first time.
Kurt rubbed at the shoulder of Blaine’s tank top with his thumb, teasing at the edge between flesh and fabric. He walked his fingers along the neckline and then tugged the shirt back a little, letting his fingernails drag at the skin just underneath. Blaine shivered. Kurt then slid his palm along Blaine’s chest and down to his waist. He toyed with the hem of the tank top before slipping his hand underneath. He could feel Blaine’s heart beating as he explored the muscles of his abs and ran his fingers across Blaine’s nipples.
In response Blaine lifted himself a little up off the bed for Kurt to pull off the tank top.
Kurt had of course seen Blaine shirtless before, but never like this. Never looking up at him, breathing heavily, with eyes full of desire. Kurt skimmed his fingertips along the bared flesh, and Blaine closed his eyes to savor the feeling.
Then suddenly Kurt was on his back, with Blaine hovering over him. Blaine had rolled him over, reversing their positions, and he was grinning his biggest grin down at Kurt.
“Now it’s your turn,” said Blaine. “I’ve never even seen you without a shirt.” It was true. Kurt had become less modest as he had matured, but at gym he still waited to shower until no one else was around, and got dressed in a stall.
“I’m so white,” said Kurt, though right now his skin was more a deep shade of pink.
“You’re beautiful.” Blaine leaned in and seized Kurt’s mouth in an urgent kiss. Their tongues came together hot and hard.
Slowing things down had just ended.
Kurt pulled Blaine down on top of him again. As his hands roamed over Blaine’s deliciously bare back, he found himself longing for more contact. “Okay,” he whispered, pulling back a few inches. Blaine understood what he meant and reached for the bottom of Kurt’s undershirt. Kurt let his body go loose so Blaine could pull it over his head.
“Fucking perfect,” said Blaine, looking down at Kurt for just a moment before folding their bare chests together. The naked press of their flesh was exquisite. Somehow it made kissing feel like a whole new experience.
Time went by in a haze of low moans and overwhelming sensation. At one point Blaine’s tongue was tracing from Kurt’s nipple, down his side, and along the skin at his bellybutton to just under the waist of his jeans. Kurt hummed his assent when Blaine started fiddling with his belt buckle.
Blaine unzipped Kurt’s jeans and started to work at pushing down his pants, his face shockingly close to Kurt’s erection. Kurt helped him and eventually wriggled out of his pants entirely. Then he made the same move toward Blaine, and before long they were both wearing just their briefs.
“Can we get under the covers?” asked Kurt as they ran their hands up and down each other’s naked thighs.
“Of course,” said Blaine. They pushed back the blanket and crawled underneath the sheets. Nestled in the soft cotton, they took hold of each other, their bodies flush, tongues searching, hands clinging feverishly to the expanse of newly exposed skin.
Finally Blaine reached around Kurt’s back and started stroking at the waistband of his underwear. His fingertips traced just at the edge so that they grazed the skin trapped underneath the elastic. It felt heavenly. Then his fingers roamed a little further down, his nails scraping lightly over the skin under Kurt’s briefs. Kurt ground into him in response, so Blaine inched the underwear down until it was at Kurt’s knees. Kurt pushed it the rest of the way and kicked it off.
He was naked. His heart hammered, but he wasn’t self-conscious. He just wanted more. More of Blaine.
“Kurt, Kurt, Kurt” muttered Blaine as Kurt dipped his hand beneath Blaine’s waistband and began to edge his briefs down until, together, they had pushed them far under the covers beneath their feet. Now they were pressed naked together, their tongues lapping desperately at each other, their fingers skimming across every reachable part of the other’s skin.
They ended up with their legs wound around each other, pushing their dicks furiously together. Both were on the verge of coming when Blaine stopped. “Here, let me,” he said as he reached down and wrapped his hand around Kurt’s erection.
Caught up in the fury of the moment, Kurt reached for Blaine as well. His hand retreated briefly when it landed on Blaine’s pubic hair, but he pushed forward, feeling Blaine smooth in his hand. Both began pulling languidly at first, as they continued to kiss and kiss and kiss until the stimulation started to push Kurt toward the edge again.
Soon Kurt’s own hand went slack, while Blaine’s reached a quick rhythm that had Kurt panting. Kurt felt his body tensing, pushing toward climax. Finally he pulled his mouth away from Blaine’s so that he could focus on the kindling fire igniting inside him. He squeezed his eyes shut against the blinding pleasure, and soon his whole body was shaking as the heat of orgasm swept over him.
He had been mumbling words of encouragement to Blaine all along, but as he rode through the waves of pleasure all he breathed out was, “oh god, Blaine, oh my god” over and over again.
Kurt sank back into the sheets in a blissed-out haze. Blaine was propped on his elbow leaning over him, patiently stroking his hair. Kurt drew him down into a kiss that turned out slow, wet, and sloppy. Apparently post-orgasm Kurt was a bit of a messy kisser, but Blaine didn’t seem to mind at all.
Kurt reached down in between Blaine’s legs and began brushing his fingers along the insides of his thighs. After a few moments of this teasing, Blaine succumbed and rolled onto his back to let Kurt take over.
Kurt figured that the time for foreplay was pretty much over, so he boldly grasped Blaine in his hand. Blaine had seemed very confident in what he had done, and it had worked quite well, so Kurt mimicked him and began to set a fast rhythm. After just a few strokes he felt Blaine pulsing in his hand.
Blaine had muttered a lot of sexy nonsense throughout, but he had somehow managed to breathe “I love you” into Kurt’s ear just before he came, and Kurt had to wonder for the millionth time how anyone could be so perfect.
Blaine signaled that he was finished by wrapping his arms all the way around Kurt and pulling him into a naked, full-body hug. For some reason Kurt found himself giggling.
“Are you okay?” asked Blaine, lying back a little so that he could look Kurt in the eyes.
“I’m amazing. That was amazing. I thought it was amazing,” said Kurt, a little breathy giggle still in his voice.
“I thought it was amazing, too. So amazing,” Blaine sighed. “You’re amazing.”
“I think sex has damaged our vocabularies.”
“It was worth it.”
“Yes, it was.”
Kurt had put his playlist on repeat, and they lay listening to “Somewhere Only We Know” for what was probably the second or third time. The candles still flickered around the room and had started to make the air smell like roses. Having moved to the dry side of the bed, the boys were cuddled up together, content and drowsy.
“Are you hungry?” asked Blaine after a while.
“Mmmhmm. Are you?”
“Starving. On the other hand, you feel really good, and I don’t want to get up.”
“Mmmm. Me neither.”
“But we probably should. Don’t we need to keep our strength up? For, you know, later?”
Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Blaine, are you seriously asking me right now if we’re going to have our second time tonight?”
“Kind of. It’s probably not even midnight yet. And I wouldn’t be opposed to an encore performance. Would you?”
Kurt rolled his eyes at the phrase “encore performance.” “You’re not going to let me get any sleep this weekend, are you?”
“Probably not if I can help it. Do you want to get a lot of sleep this weekend?”
“Not really. It’s not number one on my weekend agenda.”
“What is on your agenda?”
“Well, scene stealing and getting laid were both on there. I’ve already done both of those, and it’s only Friday night. So, I guess I can just play the rest by ear.”
Blaine laughed. Kurt loved how he could make him laugh. Then, after a few moments of silence: “Kurt?”
“I’m really happy about tonight.”
“I can tell. Me too.”
“It was almost ridiculously perfect. In every way. At least to me. I hope it was for you. I wanted it to be special for you. But it was kind of sudden, and I didn’t really have time to plan . . .”
“It was. It was almost absurdly special. Planning was not needed.”
“It was magic. I couldn’t have imagined anything more perfect, Blaine. Thank you.”
“And it was just the first time,” said Blaine smugly.
“Oh my god, you really were horny. All you can think about is when we’re going to do it again, isn’t it?” Kurt pushed at Blaine’s shoulder. “But don’t worry. I don’t think that will be a problem. Just give me a few minutes to enjoy the afterglow.”
“I didn’t actually just mean sex—though that’s good to know,” answered Blaine as he wrapped his arm around Kurt’s waist and tried to cuddle a little closer. “And you know by some definitions we’re even still virgins.”
“Yeah, I guess. But look at us. To misquote Madonna, I don’t feel like a virgin anymore.”
“Me neither. I feel like someone who just had amazing sex with his super hot boyfriend. I feel like the king of the world!” Blaine threw his arms over his head and stretched himself long.
Kurt just giggled.
“But what I meant before was that we have so much ahead of us. We’ll have a lot more first times together, sexual and nonsexual.”
“That’s true,” said Kurt. “Tonight was just the beginning.”