Title: Come Undone
Summary: Blaine gains a new appreciation for Kurt's impeccably manicured hands.
Warnings: Blowjobs...fingering...oh dear. Shameless, plotless, smut.
Spoilers: Season 2
Wordcount: Just over 5000
A/N: Look! I wrote another fic! Well, I wrote another fic and managed to finish it and make it coherent and then sillygleekt (on LJ) managed to make it good. Damn. This has been through a few incarnations now, a few changes of pace and understanding and with each edit the degree to which Blaine was a complete and utter hot, sexy, wrecked mess increased.
Thank you so much to sillygleekt for a remarkable plot idea and then remarkable editing and much discussion about how to get this right and real and perfect. If you can spare the time/inclination to leave me a review feel very free to say nice things to her and her brilliant editing because this version is soooo much better than my first unbetaed version. She just works magic on my stories. So thank you to her!
Also thank you to everyone who ever reviews or sends me a PM or adds me. I do love the love! And when I post I look forward to a day of grinning stupidly because everyone's so lovely. (Not that I'm trying to coerce you into reviewing, or anything!). So read, enjoy, review! More to come! Because I love these boys too much to stop!
It took many months, a lot of patience, several awkward conversations and an unspeakable amount of lube and Kleenex, but Blaine Anderson was a good boyfriend, just like he wanted to be, and on an innocuous Wednesday afternoon, boy did he reap the rewards.
When they started dating it was all light touches and hungry kisses. It took only a few days for Blaine to realize that this was it—a real boyfriend, his best friend, everything he wanted. And kissing Kurt made Blaine ache in ways he'd expected though a week or two in he couldn't have foreseen the magnitude of want stirring in him. Nor the way it grew. But he didn't want to push things along and wasn't surprised, not even really disappointed, when Kurt didn't push things along either.
Then summer arrived and they started pressing their bodies together and feeling out muscle and skin and heat through thinner and thinner cottons with fingers and gravity and friction. They talked—Blaine tentative, Kurt anxious. But the awkwardness was worth it because they agreed on slow and steady and Blaine promised, over and over, to be patient and relaxed even though Kurt didn't actually ask him to be. And Kurt promised to make an effort to learn and get comfortable with himself and his boyfriend and everything between them.
They ended the conversation with Kurt mumbling that he already was so much more comfortable and late that night, surrounded by the dark and quiet, they'd pressed together with unevenly rocking hips and come into their pajamas with gasps and hushed giggles.
Handjobs came next. Then blowjobs and only because Blaine slipped up and got drunk at another one of Rachel's parties and mumbled into Kurt's ear that he desperately, desperately wanted to suck him and days later Kurt realized he really couldn't let go of the thought and awkwardly brought it up and convinced Blaine to go for it. Kurt kept pace, even though Blaine didn't ask him to, and a week later Kurt went down on Blaine and found himself loving it and quietly pleased with what he'd managed to learn from the internet.
Blaine didn't last long that first time, dragging Kurt up and coming across his stomach. He'd apologized for that and Kurt had kissed him and told him to shut up.
It was all fantastic. Slow and steady and perfect and a constant stream of discovery of places to touch, of ways to whisper each other's names. And Kurt started to surprise Blaine, started to do strange and wonderful things with his hands and his mouth that left Blaine speechless and racing to do them back to Kurt.
One day he asked Kurt when he got so sexy, asked him how and Kurt just grinned in a remarkable half-embarrassed, half-wanton way that made the hairs on the back of Blaine's neck stand on end. He'd coyly shrugged and said, "I read," and then pounced and Blaine had forgotten to pick up the conversation afterwards.
"I need to tell you something," is the way Kurt decides to start. And it's a very well-considered statement. He's been thinking about saying this for weeks and about how to make it happen.
Blaine looks up from where he's leaning against the other end of the couch, reading, and raises an eyebrow.
"Put your bookmark in," Kurt says and it doesn't sound like there's bad news coming so Blaine rolls his eyes, smiles and makes a show of holding the book with his finger firmly between the pages.
Kurt rolls his eyes back at him and takes a deep breath. "I've been thinking about you—" He gets a smile from Blaine, who obviously has no idea where this is going. Poor Blaine. "And I think it would be really hot—" Blaine's smile broadens because this has to be a good idea for a Wednesday afternoon, alone in the house. Kurt takes another breath and then speaks just a little quicker than he wanted to, "—to finger you."
Kurt's cheeks heat up and his eyes widen, his teeth biting down hard on his lip but he refuses to take it back. He's been convincing himself to say it for so long, to ask, and even if he couldn't ask for it in the sexy, seductive way he'd envisioned, this will suffice. He does add, carefully, remembering to keep breathing (while Blaine doesn't and just stares back), "You don't have to say yes. I just thought, if you wanted to... I would want to."
Kurt settles back further on his end of the couch and fights down the blush that is actually making him feel hot. Blaine hasn't made a sound but Kurt's pretty sure he's made a good move here. Sure, he's overstepped the mark, changed the rules, but he doesn't think Blaine will say no.
The stark silence is interrupted and they both jump as the book falls to the ground. "I told you to use a bookmark," Kurt says, wryly.
Blaine shakes his head a little, clearing it, wondering where the sweet, inexperienced, shy boy pulling faces and comparing himself to a baby penguin has gone and trying to work out exactly what's brought this on. All of that seems unimportant though when he finds himself saying, "Yes," in a hoarse gasp of voice that makes Kurt hide his face behind his hand and laugh a little.
Blaine coughs to clear his throat. "Can I ask what brought this on?"
"I think we're beyond you asking me what you can and can't ask," Kurt teases—teases—back.
"I—" Blaine falters, fighting off the constant press of images he's spent forever imagining, images of Kurt he's jerked off to a million times, something that is suddenly, ridiculously, potentially very real. "Just... tell me why?"
It's hard to break Blaine like this, difficult to get him to speak his mind and lose track of himself and not be so cautious with Kurt. That's why Kurt's doing this, if he really analyzes it all. He's doing this because he's over Blaine leading and him following in that strange manner in which actually Blaine has let himself follow Kurt, let himself wait for Kurt every single time with everything. Kurt's enjoyed that, the patience and care and consideration but now he thinks maybe there might be something better for this relationship. And that's why. But he just shrugs and gives the much simpler answer. "I've been thinking about it and I think if you've been thinking about it and want to try it then we should."
The answer flows beautifully because Kurt has run it through his mind countless times and scrawled variations of this conversation in illegible scrawl in a notebook.
Blaine just murmurs another "Yes," and shifts in the telltale way that says he's already getting hard.
Standing up, Kurt stretches out a hand. "Come upstairs with me?"
"Did you want to schedule an appointment for this?"
Blaine just rolls his eyes and stands, wrapping his hand around Kurt's, squeezing it just a little too tightly and still trying to process.
They're halfway up the stairs, Kurt leading, when Blaine tugs on his hand and makes them stop. When Kurt turns around Blaine is bright red and staring at their clasped hands and Kurt's never seen him look quite so embarrassed. Kurt feels something thrill up his spine and ignores it but can't stop smiling at the mess of curly black hair he's faced with.
"I know you know I have, because I've told you before. But you've never..." Blaine lets it trail off and doesn't raise his eyes.
"With myself?" Kurt says before he can stop himself. Composure. He takes a silent breath, determined to hold his own. "No." Blaine freezes up a little, Kurt can tell just from his curls and that makes him smile a little again. "But I want to, I want—" he catches himself and now Blaine does look up with questioning eyes, assessing the situation and that's exactly what Kurt did not want for this. "Oh Blaine, the things I want." It sounds breathless and promising and Blaine surges forward, moving to the step below Kurt and reaches up to pull Kurt's mouth down to his for a hungry, desperate kiss and Kurt can feel him still thinking, considering, searching so he kisses him harder and then steps back, up another stair, and makes to move away.
"I want to have a shower first," Blaine says and Kurt looks back to see that he's bright red again and Kurt mostly wants to laugh. "Just because—"
Kurt cuts him off because now he does laugh, awkwardness shrouding the space but he brushes it off like he's taught himself to do. "Yeah, fine. That's...yeah." His mouth turns up into a lopsided smile and Blaine looks at him with wonder in his eyes and Kurt laughs again and then drags him up to his room, kisses him, and presses a towel into his hands.
"Hurry up," Kurt mumbles against his lips. "And don't start without me," he manages to whisper as he shoves him into the bathroom and shuts the door before Blaine has time to react.
Kurt has grown up. Kurt has grown up and gotten ridiculously sexy and well...horny. And at some point he's learned stuff. That's about all Blaine can think as he showers quickly, doing his best to ignore that he is now fully hard.
When he walks back into Kurt's room, hair still a bit wet but body toweled dry and the towel wrapped around his hips, he almost falls over. It's not that he's never seen Kurt naked—that happens all the time now. It's that he has never seen him spread out on his back against dark sheets and pillows, limbs splayed a little more than they need to be, seemingly relaxed and reclining and stroking his cock at a languid pace and all this from a distance. It's a fucking show and even though Kurt's blushing through it, it takes Blaine all of two seconds to drop his towel and scramble onto the bed, lean over him on all fours and kiss him.
When Kurt pushes him back, he keeps pushing, angling him and playing him with well-practiced hands and movements until Blaine's on his back in the same position Kurt had been in a second before and Kurt's hands are daring. They run everywhere and then down, across Blaine's cock—quick, almost rough strokes, just a few to make Blaine gasp—and then moves both hands across the inside of his thighs pushing them apart and back, and Blaine raises up on his elbows and watches as Kurt stares at what he sees.
Eventually the seconds stretch too long and Blaine feels too bare under the intensity of the stare, too exposed and not nearly enough touched and rasps out, "Kurt."
Kurt's eyes come back up and he realizes how long he's been looking, how invasive the scrutiny must feel and he hadn't planned to stare. He scrambles up and across, grabbing the bottle of lube he's bought for this very occasion from the drawer in his nightstand and then slides himself, his hands, back down across Blaine's body until he settles on his knees between Blaine's still-spread legs and watches his eyes.
They're dark and wanting and waiting.
"How do you usually do this?" Kurt asks, voice low and whispered.
Blaine swallows hard. "Just...um," he struggles for words and Kurt's hands start to press at his thighs again. "Maybe a pillow would be a good idea. And the towel."
They're both blushing again but Kurt moves off the bed, and returns with the damp towel from the floor, watches in silence as Blaine lifts his ass, balancing on his feet and his shoulders, and shoves a pillow beneath himself. Kurt smoothes the towel there and lets his hands lie lightly over Blaine's abdomen as he lowers down.
"This looks really stupid," Blaine says, not with the self-deprecation he usually displays, but shakily, his eyes staring at the ceiling for a second.
Kurt shushes him softly and kneels closer, hands now at home against the undersides of Blaine's thighs, pressing them up and back. "How?" Kurt asks again.
"Just...slowly and just one and lots of lube and we'll see." Blaine's eyes close and Kurt smirks because he kind of already knew all that. Perhaps this is going to be exactly what he thinks it will be.
Because Kurt wants to dive into this, wants to sink in to proper grown up sex and love and everything and he aches with wanting all of it every night. So he doesn't waste time hesitating and just squeezes some of the liquid onto his hand, spreads it across his fingers, wills it to heat up to body temperature and then presses a thumb in a smooth, slow stroke from Blaine's balls to the pillow.
He does it again, pressing just a little harder into the flesh and Blaine bucks up and moans too loud for so little contact. Kurt's eyes widen and stare and then he's pressing his index finger against Blaine's entrance, watching the taut lines of his boyfriend's body for any sign to stop, to slow, keeps pressing and has to bite his lip to stop the noise as he feels his finger slip inside. His eyes flicker down to watch and he can't not groan as he watches his finger slip in to the second knuckle.
Blaine makes another desperate sound, the kind Kurt usually only manages to draw from him right when he's about to come, and then he rocks his hips and Kurt slides his finger in the rest of the way. It's hot and tight and doesn't feel even vaguely as weird as it probably should so Kurt strokes in and then back and marvels at the ripples through Blaine's body, the sound that escapes his throat again.
"Another," Blaine is begging seconds later. Kurt had thought it'd take longer.
He moves his index finger out and slicks his fingers with more lube before pressing back and watching as two fingers slip inside and then starts stroking, keeping the pace he knows works best on Blaine's cock and then reconsiders, setting the pace to what he likes and shudders at the ideas that evokes.
"You do this a lot?" he breathes out and Blaine manages to crane his neck and stop moaning and fix him with a stare and a slight nod. "What does it feel like?"
Blaine doesn't know if he means now or when Blaine does it himself but before he can begin to answer Kurt leans down and presses an open mouthed kiss to his hip, biting and then licking and Blaine's voice slips embarrassingly high as he mewls.
A few strokes later, Kurt has sucked a mark against the opposite hip bone and as Blaine presses his hips down against the press of Kurt's fingers, he recalls the question.
"Amazing," he gasps as Kurt's fingers are buried. "You have no idea," he can't help but add.
"You'll show me," Kurt says simply and it's a subconscious remark but it does things to Blaine and he wriggles against the mattress, making it difficult for Kurt to keep pace and Kurt would chastise him for it except that when he looks up from his fingers, he realizes that Blaine is arched almost entirely off the bed, back bowing, stretching and writhing and Kurt's never seen him writhe before.
Kurt keeps stroking, still a bit slow for Blaine's tastes, he thinks, and reaches his other hand up to caress the length of Blaine's cock where it rests against his stomach, getting no friction but bobbing with the rock of Blaine's hips and leaving a wet patch of precome on his skin nonetheless.
Blaine arches again and Kurt guesses what the mewl and the stretch are for and crooks his fingers pressing against hot slickened skin from the inside. And then tries again, pressing a little deeper and curling his fingers further. He fights back the tight coil of heat resting low in his stomach at what he's seeing, closes his eyes but finds just the feel of Blaine around him, of his fingers inside Blaine, almost worse without the grounding, obscene visual of it all.
Blaine chokes on a whimper and Kurt's eyes snap open, watching as his body twists again and Blaine says "There" and then "Kurt, there," and Kurt's hips grind against the mattress and he moans and tries again. "Please, Kurt, there."
Kurt smirks, fascinated as he watches Blaine come undone so quickly, begging and completely lost in it all. He pulls his fingers out after another firm caress inside and presses his mouth to the crease of Blaine's thigh, then slides up his body, all such hot, harsh contact after so little—but so much—and kisses his mouth, sliding his tongue against Blaine's before raising up, acutely aware of his very slick fingers off to the side.
Blaine whines then, rutting up against him uselessly, his mouth opening and closing as if he might be trying to say something but all that escapes his lips are incoherent mumbles and sharp puffs of breath.
"What?" Kurt asks as he slides down to press a kiss over his heart.
Blaine blurts, "Prostate," and then looks mortified.
Kurt laughs softly at that, letting his breath flit across Blaine's nipples and Blaine tosses his head from side to side with unfocused eyes as Kurt dips his head to nip gently and then giggles. "I know," he eventually says, almost soothingly. "I know what I'm doing to you."
He kisses Blaine full on the mouth again and swallows a groan—he has no idea if Blaine's still mortified or has switched back to being wrecked and actually that last admission from Kurt has made Blaine mostly forget everything that preceded it Then Kurt slides back down, licks a line up the underside of Blaine's cock mostly because it's there and he wants to and then slips two fingers back inside him, stretching and feeling but not hitting the spot Blaine wants him to. He's starting to understand better, starts to feel like he's really starting to get this and it's exhilarating. It was a risk and an experiment and it's so much more amazing than he ever imagined.
Blaine sounds shameful when he asks, almost tentatively, "Another?"
Chewing his bottom lip, finding the lube beneath Blaine's foot and applying just a little more directly across Blaine's ass and watching it dribble down to the towel—Oh god the mess this is making—Kurt holds his breath and slowly presses three fingers inside.
Blaine's back is arching again and he's saying Kurt's name all high-pitched and breathless and with three fingers, Kurt can feel how tight it is again, can press and feel and now that he knows exactly where to aim it's almost too easy to make Blaine yelp. But he's still mumbling 'oh god' and now he's saying 'again' and Kurt wonders exactly what it is he does at home in the dark. Because he knows Blaine does things, he's just not entirely sure what.
Kurt keeps stroking, three fingers getting a little too awkward, but the stretch is amazing, the tight heat just more. He slides back in with only two, and he can bend and stretch and rub more easily, faster or slower, more or less pressure, the angle of his fingers inside Blaine's body shifting by degrees, and the buck of Blaine's hips, the sounds from his mouth, every time Kurt strokes at that spot the reaction changes just a little. Pitch and breathing and volume, everything changes just a little and Kurt just stares and listens and feels.
"Kurt," Blaine keens, half demanding, half begging and Kurt tries, really he does, staring hard at his fingers buried completely, pushing in with faster strokes because that makes Blaine's moans loader and his head thrash to the side. Then he slows, wondering if he's right to draw this out.
"How do you do this? How do you get yourself off like this? How can you reach?"
Kurt wasn't expecting the answer but shouldn't really be surprised. He grinds down, rutting against the mattress as he listens and thinks and doesn't stop himself imagining.
Blaine stumbles over the words. "I have...a toy." He swallows and breathes heavily. "Not—hnng—anything—mnnf—like this..." Kurt holds his breath, intrigued to hear this and preening just for a second as Blaine mumbles and moans.
"Different... not... as good... as this," he chokes out. And then, "Do you have...anything?"
Kurt chuckles and turns his head to kiss at the inside of Blaine's thigh, the closest part of him to his head where he's sprawled against the mattress and, oh, Blaine's now holding his legs open, straining and that's ridiculously dirty and also quite ridiculously hot.
"No," Kurt says and there's yearning in his voice. "Not yet."
Blaine bucks and Kurt's fingers slip from him, the sound just another thing to put on the list of filthy perfections that Kurt's assembling in his head. Kurt clicks his tongue and scrambles back up on to his knees. "I am going to make you come, though," and he grins and Blaine makes another high-pitched needy noise, the kind Kurt's quickly falling in love with. Then his voice dies because Kurt leans forward and licks as rough as he can up the side of Blaine's cock.
"Next time," Blaine chokes out, "I'll bring...something..."
One of Kurt's hands wraps around the base of Blaine's cock so he can suck on the tip in the exact way he knows Blaine loves. Sucks harder and presses his fingers back inside him, now so easy, so fluid, so perfect.
"No toys," he tells Blaine and Blaine just groans. "Next time we'll just do this again because I want to get good at it and used to it." Blaine looks like he wants to interrupt, Kurt knows it's to tell him he's already good at it but he keeps talking, tongue slipping form his mouth to lick wet spirals across the side of his length. "And you can do it to me, I think."
Blaine rather likes hearing that Kurt wants to do this again and wants Blaine to do it back to him. But right now, Blaine just wants Kurt to stop talking. Wants the world to narrow in on just Kurt's fingers inside him, wants Kurt's fingers to keep doing exactly what they're doing in an endless loop of sensation and he should be embarrassed to be so open and needing but he has been dreaming of this—practicing this—forever. He can feel the constant echo of the right kind of pressure ricocheting through him and can't conceive of anything better. He's terrified that if Kurt manages more, a different pace, a different touch, even just more of Kurt's mouth on his dick properly—all hot wet licks and sucks—it will make him shatter.
"But no toys." Kurt whispers, breath across skin, and a smirk across his lips. "I want to—practice," and then his mouth is sinking down over Blaine's length and letting him arch off the bed into him, uncontrolled and so close, so on edge. He doesn't shatter though, far too invested in the perfection of the build up, as orgasm is seemingly secondary to just how fucking amazing this feels.
Kurt grins and Blaine can feel the smile against this skin, begs his spine to bend so he can look and see Kurt sucking on him, smirking and further down, out of sight, still pressing his fingers inside him.
Then Kurt pulls off, lets Blaine's cock fall back against his stomach, wet and hard and Blaine actually says "no...no..." without understanding what he's really protesting and in a desperate, pleading voice over and over until Kurt hushes him again, voice soothing. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
Blaine nods too vigorously and it makes Kurt giggle—just a quick snatch of laughter before he remembers he's meant to be sexy and seductive and stops and just stares at Blaine's cock again and lets his fingers push a little harder, a little more forceful as he presses inside him, amazed that Blaine rocks into the thrust and growls something primal and unhinged and now Kurt's desperate to find out just how good it would feel to have Blaine's fingers doing this to him.
"One more surprise," Kurt hums and Blaine sounds utterly broken when he moans back assent to hear it. "Let me swallow this time?"
Blaine has never not let Kurt swallow but he's never done it himself and in turn has always pulled Kurt away when he's getting close. He didn't want to put that kind of pressure on Kurt and has read about the taste and the sensation of it and watched the porn and the men always look momentarily disgusted with it and now Kurt's asking his permission.
And fuck, of course it's a hot thought. Of course. It's Kurt taking on just a little bit more of him, wanting more of him and this isn't the time to overthink because Kurt has fucking revolutionized their sex life tonight and Blaine's not about to stop that. He must have nodded or said 'yes' or maybe Kurt was just sick of waiting because he sinks down and sucks him in with a hand around the base and now there's no messing around.
Kurt works his mouth over him like he's been doing it forever—flicks his tongue against the underside and sucks the tip, lip catching just perfectly at the spot at the base of the head and all in a rhythm that echoes his fingers, leaving him feeling full and tight and just sublime. Blaine's fingers dig into his own thighs as he holds his legs open and tries to fight back the orgasm, tries to stay with Kurt just a little longer and Kurt hums and sucks more of him into his mouth. His hand uncurls from the base of Blaine's cock and slides across sweat-slicked skin to press a thumb into the bruise over Blaine's hip and Blaine's so close.
Blaine fights the instinct to reach down and pull Kurt away and then unclenches his jaw and yelps a warning and his boyfriend's name and thinks he has a few more seconds of ecstasy before he tips into oblivion but doesn't and then arches, more of this length slipping past Kurt's lips, bearing down at the same time on the fingers inside him, pressing relentlessly just there, and a guttural moan escapes his throat, mingling with the sound of the rush of blood in his head as his hips buck up and back and just all hot, perfect contact, he comes harder than he's ever come in his life. And oh fuck the fall is even better than the ascent, than the plateau of pleasure that preceded. He can't think for the constant methodical throb of everything in him being more and better and something so far beyond perfect that the word perfect sounds stupid.
And Kurt swallows all of it and if Blaine were watching, if he could, he wouldn't see a second of disgust or discontent. Just surprise, contemplation and then just bliss.
Blaine thinks he might have kind of blacked out a little bit. It's also entirely possible he fell asleep for a couple of seconds. Because Kurt's mouth is gone and he's suddenly aware of Kurt's fingers sliding out of him and patting wetly against the side of his ass and then it's just heavy breathing and Blaine really wants to open his eyes but can't.
"You should see yourself," Kurt whispers and there's unmistakable awe in his voice. Awe and amazement and Blaine realizes his hands are still gripping vice-like at his legs and despite the way Kurt said it he thinks he must look damn stupid, lets go of his legs, drops them back to the bed. He opens his eyes then, because Kurt has fallen silent and he's right, he sees, Kurt is watching him intently, too sharp a mind working at something and Blaine has no idea what.
Then Kurt leans forward, scrambles up to him and ignores his bent body, his hips thrust up in the air still over the pillow, and just leans in and presses his mouth open and hot over Blaine's, Kurt's tongue lapping and insistent and Blaine opens his mouth without thinking.
And holy fuck, that taste is him. And it's all over Kurt's tongue and his mouth and it shouldn't be anywhere near this much of a turn-on but his cock thinks so and that's a jolt of pain racing through him as the over-sensitization hits him and he's pushing Kurt back.
"No?" Kurt asks, sounding just a little surprised.
"Oh god, yes, Kurt, a thousand times yes and I'm sorry I fucking listened to the internet and we haven't been doing blowjobs like that forever." He rambles and then shuts up and then realizes he wants nothing more than to taste Kurt. He's properly and utterly undone and he's officially putting Kurt in charge of things now because that was the best sex ever. And evidently Kurt has somehow morphed into a sex god overnight and he's all his.
"You're—amazing," Blaine says, reaching beneath him and pulling the pillow and towel away and throwing them haphazardly to the ground. He slumps back onto the bed, Kurt staying up on all fours above him and grinning and blushing in the aftermath. "Anything you want now, however you want it," Blaine says, ridiculously earnestly, wishing Kurt would ask him for his mouth, wanting that but happy to watch his boyfriend come however he pleases because Blaine's never, ever come like that.
Kurt laughs and shakes his head. "Anything?" he asks.
"Anything." Blaine says immediately, emphatically.
Kurt flops down on top of him and grinds his hips playfully and oh...Oh, he's already going soft, he's snuggling and sated and lying across Blaine's chest and already closing his eyes. "You already...?" Blaine asks, wonder playing at the edge of his mind.
Kurt hums in the affirmative and smirks into the chest of his boyfriend. "As for my 'anything', you can wake me up in half an hour and help me change the sheets."
A/N: There's not really much for me to say here, is there? It's all rather self-explanatory. Another bit of an escalation for me in the smut stakes and I'm a bit shocked to see the metaphors and hyperbole I ended up writing in but, as the beta explained Blaine was just a total wreck here and you should (hopefully) be able to forgive him for his useless wordy ways.
What a strange thing to say.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this smut fic. There will possibly be a companion piece to come for when Blaine turns the tables on Kurt because I really do need to spend some time writing Kurt just as wrecked and lost to it as Blaine. But first there's a follow up piece for the future!fic because I just couldn't resist.
Rambling A/N: sorry. Love to know what you think! Of course! Yay!