likesboys | you can't touch me, but i can touch you; i'd really love to touch you

Entry tags:

you can't touch me, but i can touch you; i'd really love to touch you

No matter how hard Kurt's tried to be welcoming of Tina into their circle, it's only after she skips early out of the double feature that he's finally able to relax. The theater that they're seated in is shady at best — the mere fact that their key feature is Showgirls pretty much speaks to the quality of the place — but nestled away in the back row with Blaine, Kurt isn't too concerned about the film itself. Most of the night is just about getting away from all the noise and swirl surrounding McKinley, ignoring all of the drama that Kurt suspects Rachel's gotten herself into, and focusing wholly on enjoying the couple of days he has before he has to head back to New York.

And there are only a couple of people he really cares to see while here in Lima.

He's just a little bit restless as he sits in his seat, expression constantly one of amused skepticism as he glances up at the screen. Everything about Showgirls simply screams trashy movie, but there's something about the horrible dialogue and acting that appeals to Kurt. If nothing else, watching the movie is an experience.

On the screen, Molly Abrams goes on about sex, and Kurt can't help but laugh. "I haven't gotten laid in six months," she complains. "My right hand's so tired I can barely thread a needle!"

The little snicker Kurt allows himself is just a touch smug. Physical intimacy is certainly something he hasn't been lacking for this weekend.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The sound of Kurt's laughter, as quiet and restrained as it is right now in the darkened theater, makes something warm bloom in Blaine's chest and he relaxes further as he turns to look at him, catching his profile in the glow from the screen. Not for the first time, Blaine simply stares for a moment, drinking in the sight of Kurt right beside him -- right beside him -- laughing and smiling and seemingly completely at ease. The whole weekend so far has felt like nothing short of a gift and Blaine is eager to cling to every single moment while he can.

"Are you laughing at her pain?" he asks, careful to keep his voice a low whisper as he leans in close to Kurt. The last thing he wants to do is disrupt anyone else's theater-going experience even if this film is fairly atrocious. "Up until the other night, it'd been that long for me too, you know."

He hopes it's not too close to a line, that it doesn't make Kurt think about all the stuff from before, about exactly why Blaine hasn't been with anyone in six months, hasn't been with anyone since Kurt.

Just in case, he shifts his arm on the rest between them, his pinky brushing the side of Kurt's hand playfully as he adds, "It's no laughing matter."

If there were any eyes on them, Kurt would probably put this train of thought to an end. If there was anyone from the Glee club by their side right now, Kurt would backtrack, if only because the Glee club carries this constant notion that their couples will see things through to the end. He can't even imagine being under as much pressure as Santana and Brittany have been, every group gathering slightly odd for how Brittany's now with Sam. When he finds himself still conflicted over the idea of being with Blaine, he doesn't want to invite any more scrutiny.

But the theater's just theirs now, more or less, so Kurt lets himself glance over slowly, the speed of his turn a tease. His gaze briefly drops to where Blaine's hand briefly brushed by his arm, the skin tingling in its wake, and Kurt lifts a brow in suggestion.

"I thought that was why God invented masturbation," he whispers in return, eyes bright and amused as he draws his hand up, tracing very lightly along the top of Blaine's arm before turning his head and brushing the tip of his nose briefly against Blaine's cheek, letting him just feel the soft rush of Kurt's breath. "You were the one who taught me that."

Kurt's head turns slowly, his gaze trained downward on where Blaine's still lightly touching him, the dancing blue and red lights from the screen casting shadows across Kurt's face. Kurt arches an eyebrow and Blaine feels something in his gut twist and heat, and then flare bright as Kurt leans in to bump his nose against Blaine's cheek, his voice low and almost sultry.

Blaine's muscles tense a little, all too aware that they're in a very public space, but unwilling to let Kurt slip away just yet. Kurt's fingers are brushing along Blaine's arm now, light and teasing and, as Blaine's eyelids flutter briefly closed, he can't help but remember all the touches they've shared in the past forty-eight hours alone.

He swallows tightly, takes a moment to make sure he can speak again without squeaking as he turns his wrist and shifts his arm to drag his fingers along the underside of Kurt's, tracing along the delicate skin of his wrist. "My hand isn't nearly as nice as yours though," he says, still very, very careful to keep his voice low. "And, well..." he trails off, his face heating warm and voice dropping quieter still as he admits, "that was before I knew how good you'd feel inside me."

The skin underneath Kurt's wrist is sensitive, more so than he ever expected before Blaine discovered that years ago. Years ago, he thinks to himself, still unable to do anything but marvel at the amount of time that they've had together, and the way that he still can't look far into his future without picturing Blaine there in some capacity. While his thoughts remain trapped, Kurt feels Blaine's skin suddenly heating against the touch of his nose, and after he pulls away only briefly to confirm that Blaine is indeed flushing, Kurt leans forward again, pursing his lips only enough to brush against Blaine's cheek as he shivers internally at Blaine's words.

Even though the rest of the room remains chatty around them, reminding Kurt that they're still in a very public space, Kurt can't help himself, breathing in Blaine's scent and wanting to stay as close as possible. If anything, needing to keep themselves quiet and discreet only has Kurt's blood running faster, his cheeks warm as he carefully ducks down to press kisses against the side of Blaine's neck.

"It does seem like a bit of a waste if you don't get laid, doesn't it? You always... feel so amazing," Kurt murmurs quietly, his kisses careful, his teeth nipping only slightly. He doesn't want to leave Blaine with too much to explain once he's gone. "Though, I like your hands. A lot."

"Oh," Blaine breathes, quiet and a little surprised as Kurt ducks to kiss down the side of his neck. Blaine tips his head to give Kurt more room, eyes focused hazily on the movie screen though not really seeing it. Every touch of Kurt's mouth sends a fresh sliver of want down his spine, his dick stiffening in his jeans as he tightens his grip slightly on Kurt's arm.

Barely managing to hold back a hiss at the light scrape of Kurt's teeth against tender skin, Blaine swallows, his mind growing fuzzier and fuzzier.

Though they're not the only ones in the theater, it's still fairly empty. Showgirls, it seems, does not draw a particularly large crowd on a weekday afternoon. There's another couple several rows in front of them, another a few rows in front of them and off to the left, a girl sitting alone by the aisle. But that's it. So, sucking in a deep breath, Blaine takes a chance and carefully slides his arm off the rest to settle it atop Kurt's thigh, gripping faintly. Turning his head enough to brush lips against Kurt's hair, he whispers, "I like my hands on you."

Even with the movie getting in the way, when the two of them are this close, Kurt can hear every breath from Blaine, the rise and fall of his breath reflected when his gaze drops. It makes Kurt feel a surge of power, of control, more crucial than ever when the two of them are in such a public space. Groaning faintly, Kurt shivers when Blaine lays a hand on top of his thigh. They've never been quite this open about their attraction, about what they do, and the chance, however slim, that they'll get caught is... intoxicating.

Or maybe that's just Blaine. Kurt doesn't really care to distinguish it one way or another at this point.

"Me too," Kurt finally admits, swallowing thickly before continuing to kiss at Blaine's neck, sucking lightly at the perspiration there, salty against his tongue. The rest of his body is mostly tense, trying to figure out how to keep the pair of them hidden, even as his hand slips off the rest and carefully slides along Blaine's hip, fingers splaying over the front of his crotch, though he doesn't press yet. Not just yet, even as his hand almost trembles with wanting to. "Touching you like this... in the back of a movie theater... feels like a lot of fantasies coming true," he adds softly, sighing as he shifts in his seat, searching for a more comfortable position.

They've never done anything like this before, not out in the open, in public. However much their touches may be hidden in the darkness, there's still a chance of getting caught. It's thrilling in a way Blaine can't really describe, made more so even by the fact that he's allowed this at all. Two days ago, he'd wondered if he'd get to touch Kurt ever again and now...

"Oh god," he groans, his face flushing hotter when it comes out a little louder than he intends. He immediately bites down on his bottom lip, hand gripping Kurt's thigh tightly as every muscle goes tense. Actively fighting the impulse to thrust up against Kurt's palm, he eventually lets his head tip back again and sucks in a shaky breath.

"You're driving me crazy, Kurt," he whispers, lips twitching into a grin as he skims his own fingertips along the inner seam of Kurt's thigh, following the line upward slowly. "This is so... so scandalous. So... hot." He emphasizes the last with another squeeze, his pinky right up against the bulge of Kurt's pants, stroking gently.

Kurt nearly snickers when the sound of Blaine's groan comes out louder than it should, a few people in front of them shifting in their seats. No one's turned back to look at them yet, probably too transfixed by all the bare cleavage that's showing up on the silver screen — either that, Kurt thinks, or maybe they're far too aware of the few reasons why someone would bother coming to a feature like this. Either they'll be focused on the physiology presented in the movie... or it's more about the theater experience than the film. Kurt's willing to bet that they're far from the first couple who's fooled around in the room, and that keeps him from feeling even the least bit guilty as his head tilts back and eyes fall to a close, rolling behind the lids when even the barest touch from Blaine starts to drive him wild.

In keeping himself as aware as possible of their surroundings, looking out for prying eyes, he's also just that much more susceptible to touch.

Turning his head again until his temple rests against Blaine's shoulder, Kurt lips his hips slightly, then reaches further with his own hand, fully squeezing around the bulge of Blaine's cock. "You're driving me crazy too, you know," he breathes, blinking his eyes open to glance up at Blaine, then down at his lap. "I have this sudden desire to suck you off right here. Too much, you think?"

Kurt's breath is warm on his shoulder, humid air seeping through the thin material of Blaine's shirt, making him shiver. He gets a slightly better angle when Kurt lifts his hips, inviting Blaine to rest his palm against Kurt more fully, and he bites back a groan when he feels how hard Kurt is already, fingers curling as well as they're able as he gives a slow, gentle squeeze.

Turning his head toward Kurt, he stares wide-eyed at the way Kurt looks right back at him, his cheeks flushed a delicious shade of pink and gaze darting from Blaine's face and then downward. He gasps when Kurt speaks and then has to fight a whimper as his head rolls again, all the blood in his body rushing southward.

"Oh my god," he groans, barely audible at all as his other hand slides down to rest right over Kurt's, holding him there as his hips arch. "Do you-- I'm not sure I can say no right now, but it's... I mean, anyone could see us. Anyone."

Gasping sharply when he feels the pressure of Blaine's hand over his crotch, Kurt shakes his head slightly, ducking against Blaine's neck and resting his forehead there as he catches his breath. He tilts his head back before long, kissing against the sensitive skin under Blaine's jawline, sucking faintly, already feeling the perspiration on his temples, less from exertion and more from the sheer control that both of them are being forced to exercise. It feels thrilling, knowing that their reactions are so confined, that they can't let anyone else notice.

"I'll lean over in a way that makes it easy for us to excuse ourselves. You can say that I'm... I don't know, exhausted from studying for midterms and just fell asleep on your lap. You can mange that, right?" Kurt grins, laughing under his breath before he pulls back just enough to tug off his own sweater. "We can keep this draped over my shoulders, like I was using it like blanket. All you need to do... is keep quiet."

Leaning further over and breathing sharply, Kurt's fingers deftly work at Blaine's belt, the slight clink of the buckle muted as he searches for Blaine's gaze, licking his lips. "What do you think?" he asks quietly, one hand sneaking just enough under the waistband of Blaine's pants. "Blaine?"

For a long moment, Blaine can't say anything at all, voice stuck in his throat as he grows dizzy. Kurt moves quickly, pulling off his sweater and shifting to stretch out a little more before working at Blaine's belt, the clink of metal on metal making panic and excitement and anticipation shoot straight up Blaine's spine.

"Okay," he finally manages when the touch of Kurt's fingers to bare skin knocks him into remembering how to breathe, eyes wide as he stares down at Kurt's hand. "Yes. Yes, okay."

He glances up again then, gaze darting to the couple only a few rows up. They seem focused on the movie and Blaine relaxes just a little as he takes Kurt's sweater and then, in a stroke of genius, flips up the arm rest trapped between them, giving Kurt much more room to maneuver.

Before he bends down, Kurt leans forward to capture Blaine's lips again in a kiss, this one desperate and searching, hard enough that he almost wonders if either of their lips will bruise from it. Still, he needs the contact, the kiss serving as an anchor for the moment, a reminder of why he's doing this — because the rush of electricity he feels shocking down his spine now is only one that he's ever felt with Blaine. And he misses it.

And he'll hold onto it as long as he can, this weekend.

Breathing harshly by the time he pulls back, Kurt doesn't waste much time before bending down to reach Blaine's cock, jerking it once, then twice with his hand before he presses wet kisses along the side of the shaft. Down here, all Kurt can smell and see is Blaine, and he takes a moment to revel in it, nose pressed against coarse hair before he parts his lips and presses them tightly down the head of Blaine's cock, tongue immediately swirling around to catch the taste of him as Kurt gives a preliminary suck.

The kiss is unexpected, serving to crack Blaine's chest open for a moment as he barely manages to hold back a whimper, his free hand raising to cradle the curve of Kurt's jaw as he holds on, relishing the connection, the feel of Kurt's tongue in his mouth, the heat of his breath.

It's over far too soon, Blaine's lips tingling and bruised as Kurt ducks down into his lap, not wasting any time at all in pulling Blaine free of his pants and kissing down his length. Every muscle in Blaine's body goes tight immediately, breath stuck in his throat as he fights the impulse to moan, feet shifting on the hard floor beneath him. And then Kurt's tongue is on him, swirling and teasing and Blaine curls his fingers into Kurt's hair and lets his head fall back as pure pleasure rolls over him.

"Yes," he breathes, barely a whisper as he lifts his head again to look down, making the back of Kurt's head out in the darkness. This feels crazy. Terrifying and obscene and utterly unbelievable and he has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep back a moan, communicating only with the tug of his hand in Kurt's hair, the other gripping Kurt's shoulder.

Kurt can practically hear the pounding of his heart in his ears as he goes down on Blaine, sucking hungrily and lapping at the excess saliva that drips down, trying to keep his movement as smooth as possible. He's vaguely aware of the weight of Blaine's cock down on his tongue, enjoying the smooth feel of his skin, the bitter taste heady whenever he pulls back to catch his breath. Underneath the pounding sound of the movie, Kurt's able to make off slight moans and the sharper pulls of breath that Blaine takes, and even if they're supposed to be keeping quiet right now, Kurt can't help but redouble his efforts, wanting more of a reaction from Blaine, wanting to pull them both to the cusp of being discovered.

Slowly, he reaches with one hand to spread across Blaine's abdomen, feeling the tensing of muscles underneath his fingertips, and pushes further down over Blaine's cock, relaxing the back of his own throat. He's not as practiced at this as he used to be, but it's easy enough to pull on old memories, even more so now that they've had that night together, touching and sharing intimacies until they fell into exhaustion.

Feeling another tug on his hair, Kurt starts to hum, deep and low in his throat as he continues to bob his head quickly, keeping a clipped pace.

Blaine's always been the quieter one in bed, Kurt always more likely to moan a little too loudly, to cry out in that delicious way that always makes Blaine's blood run hot and his hips pump faster. He's never always kept his own noises to low, cut off moans and pleas and whimpers. But there's something about doing this right here, in public that makes it so much more difficult to keep silent, like a part of him wants someone to notice, wants someone to look back and watch just how good Kurt is at this.

But, even his pleasure-soaked mind knows how terrible an idea that is in reality; the second someone notices is the second this ends. And the idea of his parents ever finding out -- or, worse, Burt finding out -- is a little bit terrifying.

Just the thought makes his body tense again, fear weaving in with the euphoria and he quickly lift his hand from Kurt's shoulder to bite his fist, keeping the whimpers and moans at bay. He can't quite help the way he's breathing though, short, aching breaths that shudder with every pull of Kurt's mouth, every deep suck. There isn't a whole lot of finesse in this, just Kurt's wide, wet mouth and his hand wide and warm on Blaine's belly, and the wide open space of the theater, and Blaine knows it isn't going to take long, his toes already curling and hips arching as he struggles to make it last.

It feels like only a moment that Blaine threatens to fall apart before suddenly he's clamped down again, extremely conscious of their surroundings and not wanting to land them in trouble. For his part, Kurt finds that he doesn't care about the repercussions quite enough to stop, sucking harder at Blaine's cock and massaging his balls with his free hand, thumb tracing carefully along the line of his perineum. When Blaine's muscles start to tense, his breath coming in stuttering bursts, Kurt feels a surge of confidence, knowing that even in a high stress environment like this one, he's brought pleasure to Blaine, undeniable and heated.

That very knowledge has his own blood pumping faster, his moans louder even as they remain muffled around Blaine's cock, the slide far easier as the seconds pass. When he feels Blaine drawing precariously close, Kurt takes a deep breath, pulling back to the tip of his cock to suck, hard, before dipping back down to drive Blaine far against the back of his throat, relaxing his muscles to nearly take him completely in.

He's right on the cusp, balancing just on the precipice when Kurt eases back to suck hard at the tip, sending jolts of liquid heat straight to Blaine's balls before he's suddenly crashing forward, spilling hot and fast into Kurt's mouth as Kurt sinks down onto him, all the way, god, all the way, how can he-- how is he--

Closing his eyes tight, all Blaine can see is white, chest aching as he struggles against the overwhelming need to cry out. It's almost painful to keep quiet and his first breath, when he finally lets himself take it, sounds too-loud in theater.

Kurt's still leaning over him and Blaine gently uncurls his fingers, shaking as he pets his hair and still shuddering with oversensitivity. "Oh my god," he whispers finally, glancing up quickly to make sure they haven't been found out, his heart still beating double-time as he tries to catch his breath. "Oh my god. Kurt."

Dropping his other hand to Kurt's shoulder again, he gives a gentle tug, sliding it up to his throat and leaning forward at the same time, already eager to have Kurt closer, needing him there. "Come here. Come here, please. Please."

Slowly, careful not to jolt himself too much for fear of choking, Kurt pulls back, sucking on Blaine's cock all the while to make sure he catches most of the come. There's probably still some that slips free of his lips by the time Blaine starts tugging on his shoulder, so Kurt pulls up and takes a breath, head swimming in his exhilaration. He's not sure how much time has passed, but it all felt fast, pounding in his chest as he carefully sits back up and glances around them, the glare of the screen suddenly stronger with how long he's spent in the dark.

Squinting and turning away, Kurt laughs under his breath as he leans back close to Blaine, licking his lips clean before pressing a quick peck to the corner of Blaine's mouth, humming all the while.

"Was good, right?" he teases, even as he continues to breathe in deeply, alleviating the burn in his lungs. He spreads a hand wide across Blaine's chest, feeling for the race of his heart, and his gaze skirts over Blaine's entire body, the way it's stretch out and sated, the way he looks absolutely debauched and undone. It's just about the hottest thing Kurt's ever seen, desire twisting sharp in his own belly as his cock continues to strain against his pants. "I love sucking you off."

Blaine's grateful for the lack of armrest between them, grateful that he can feel Kurt pressed right up alongside him still, thigh to thigh and hip to hip. Kurt's hand falls to Blaine's chest, doubtlessly feeling the rapid thudding of his heartbeat as Blaine immediately leans down and in to find Kurt's lips, licking the words from Kurt's mouth with a soft, hungry moan he can't quite stifle. The taste of himself is thick there, unmistakeable.

Shifting a little, he holds Kurt's jaw with one hand, thumb angled under his chin to keep him in place as he reaches forward with the other, the heel of his palm pressed firmly against the thick line of Kurt's cock in his pants.

"That was amazing," he murmurs between one kiss and the next, fingers awkwardly fumbling with the button and zip of Kurt's pants before sneaking beneath the fabric, the only barrier the thin cotton of Kurt's underwear. "You are so-- so-- amazing, oh my god." With a twist of his wrist he finally slips beneath the last layer, Kurt hot and heavy in his hand as he sweeps a thumb over the tip, spreading the slick there as he bites at Kurt's bottom lip.

Kurt sighs into the kiss, easily contented by the touch, by the slow and sinuous slide of Blaine's lips against his own. He feels Blaine's tongue flicking out, presumably tasting himself, and moans into it, searching Blaine's mouth and on the cusp of letting his arms drape completely around Blaine's shoulders, pulling him in. But it hits then, the press of Blaine's hand against his own cock, and Kurt only just manages to bite down on his lip before a moan escapes his lips, unbridled.

"F-fuck," breathes Kurt, releasing his lip when Blaine's hand starts to slip under his layers, under the jeans first, then his underwear, skin against smooth skin. Kurt's so close already that it feels criminal, sliding down in his seat until Blaine chases after his lip with a bite. "Oh god, Blaine, oh god." His whispers are harsh, thankfully hidden mostly by a loud club scene as his hand scrambles to grab at Blaine's thigh.

"Yeah, yeah," he pants, arching his hips up so that he thrusts into the circle of Blaine's hand.

Kurt's already a little louder than he probably should be and Blaine quickly tries to muffle the sounds with his mouth, pushing his tongue in deep as he works his hand faster. It's a little rough with no lube to slick the way aside from small dribble of Kurt's precome.

Thankfully, the scene playing in the movie is fairly loud and Blaine is relieved to see that no one's paying them any attention when he sneaks another quick glance upward. In fact, it's enough to give him the courage to bend forward, doubling over Kurt's lap to suck him in quick and deep, humming softly at the weight on his tongue, the bittersweet taste already leaking free as his hand slides down to the root, holding him there.

Like this, Kurt has to stifle himself, but Blaine feels far less worried about it than when he'd been the one receiving. Down here, he can focus solely on Kurt's scent and the shift of his muscles, the catch of his zipper against Blaine's jaw every now and again, the silky-smooth texture of hard flesh filling his mouth. He can still hardly believe they're doing this, that Kurt's the one who started it, that he's allowed this. If absolutely nothing else, he knows he's going to be jerking himself raw from the memories once Kurt's back in New York.

Even though it probably shouldn't come as a surprise, still Kurt's breath pulls in fast when he feels Blaine sink down over his cock with his mouth, enveloping Kurt suddenly with searing heat. It feels so achingly good that Kurt can't even bother schooling his expression into something calmer, instead focusing entirely on holding his hips down as his left hand grips tightly at his opposite armrest, and his right slides easily into Blaine's hair, mussing the smooth, gelled strands.

From where Kurt's seated, heavily lidded eyes fixed on Blaine's head bobbing in his lap, he feels a surge of emotion at this, exploring entirely new experiences together. He wouldn't be half this daring with anyone else, wouldn't bother trying to push boundaries with anyone else. If anything, Adam's always been the more eager to go on dates, which in some ways is nothing short of astonishing to Kurt, empowering even.

But he wants this, a yearning that he isn't sure how to suppress.

Licking his lips, Kurt stares briefly up at the ceiling, breathing harshly, an admission of love so close to the tip of his tongue. He can't, though. He can't let that slip free.

"God, Blaine, so close."

Edited 2013-04-14 04:46 (UTC)

Blaine can feel Kurt tensing beneath him little by little, and when Kurt's hand sinks into his hair, his subsequent moan is muffled only by Kurt's cock. He sinks down low, relaxing his throat as much as he's able before sucking up to the tip again, tongue laving at the slit before he slides down again, a smooth, hungry rhythm that has his blood warming all over again.

The music from the movie is loud in his ears, but somehow quieter than his own rushing heartbeat. He wants to pull off to beg Kurt to come for him, wants Kurt to know how desperately he aches to swallow him down. But he can't here, can't do anything but try to stay as quiet as possible, shoulders squared as he doubles his efforts, taking Kurt in as deep as he can manage and letting his throat muscles flutter around the length of him.

Gently, he sneaks one hand lower, fingers spread against the swell of Kurt's balls, kneading gently before one nudges further back, stroking along the smooth skin of his perineum as his tongue flicks and teases at the crown before spreading his lips wide and taking him deep one more time, groaning as he's filled, filled, filled.

Thighs tensing and starting to burn from holding back, Kurt lets out a strangled cry, mostly hushed but still more than audible. He blinks blearily, making sure that no one's watching them from the rest of the room, although he catches movement from a couple of the other theatergoers, people shifting in their seats and distant murmurs. Maybe someone's already noticed, but there's a certain power that comes from knowing that no one's bothered to interrupt the both of them. Maybe, Kurt thinks to himself, someone's enjoying this, and that thought alone is immediately enough to send him over the edge, both hands sinking into Blaine's hair and tugging in warning.

"B-Blaine I'm coming, Blaine—"

Gritting his teeth, Kurt watches as his vision fades into blinding white, sparks at the edge of his field of view as he comes down Blaine's throat, lips parted as he breathes in through his mouth, crying softly with the force of it. He can tell that Blaine's sunk down further than usual, the back of his throat impossibly tight, and Kurt turns his head to the side to muffle his groan quickly against the curve of his shoulder.

"Fuck," he hisses, toes curling. "God, fuck."

A rough tug at Blaine's hair is his warning and he pulls back just enough to feel hot liquid splash against the back of his throat, thick and bitter. He swallows as best he can with his mouth still wrapped around Kurt's length, sucking up to the tip to swallow still more before sinking onto him again, bobbing slow and thorough as Kurt rides out his orgasm.

And Kurt sounds so loud still, louder than he should be as he shakes under Blaine's hands, coming apart still as Blaine swallows around him. Blaine can't help but wonder if anyone's heard him, if anyone's turned around in their seats to see what all the commotion's about. He wonders if the can make out the look on Kurt's face right now or the way he's still bobbing slow and regular in Kurt's lap. Wonders what they must look like right now in the darkened theater, two horny teenagers utterly drunk on each other, sated and sweaty and debauched.

He's still breathing hard when he finally lets Kurt slip free from his mouth, light from the screen catching on Kurt's spit-slick cock in the most deliciously obscene way before Blaine carefully tucks him back into his underwear. He lets his hand linger though, not wanting to let go just yet as he presses a kiss to the skin just below Kurt's navel, breathing in the thick, heavy scent of him there.

"I love you," he whispers, quiet enough to be unheard by anyone, including Kurt, smiling faintly against the thin line of hair leading upward before pressing one more kiss.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject