Summary: Blaine sings It's Not Unusual. Kurt drags him off to be…happy about it.
A/N: I kind of got two job offers today. Like. Science post-doc job offers. I don't care. This is more important. So that song. The growling. This is my take on exactly what should happen. It's sappy and incoherent and unbetaed but basically klaine KLAINE smut. With added soundtrack. Enjoy it my friends. Enjoy it.
Spoilers: Song spoilers that we all know…um…and where it's performed. Seriously though. You should know this if you're not scared of spoilers (which I totally respect…but…yeah)
When Blaine did his little number on the steps, Cheerios in tow, Kurt knew it was coming. He'd listened to Blaine agonise and try and practice and debate. Blaine was insanely adorable when he was himself. On stage, sure, he was comfortable, confident, charismatic. He gave it his all. He was convincing. But behind closed doors. Kurt's closed bedroom door, Blaine was a mess.
Umming and arring after a jolting first week at McKinley in which he hadn't been welcomed with open arms. He'd been challenged, his best demanded. An audition. And Kurt had calmed him with a hand at the small of his back and a quiet "Shhhh."
An audition the Glee club wanted. An audition they would get.
Blaine was charming enough to enlist a bunch of cheerleaders to throw themselves around him, wave their arms in a blur of white and red and harmonise. And Kurt was owed enough that the AV club eventually gave him the help he needed. Then the song. Kurt argued again Tom Jones. Blaine argued for.
Blaine won when he sang the first few lines with a convincing waggle of eyebrows and then hips and then pressed Kurt back into his bed. So. Tom Jones. With Cheerios. At lunch with the whole of the school watching.
Kurt couldn't understand the bravery (the stupidity?) his boyfriend showed but he was adamant, so desperate, to get into the Glee club that it just was. And so it happened that Kurt settled at the table with half the Glee Club, second week of school, Blaine conspicuously missing, Rachel immediately thinking the worst and telling Kurt that all High School relationships didn't last. Except her a Finn.
And then Blaine was there. Singing. On the steps.
And half way through the first verse Kurt wasn't caring so much how the 'audition' was going and was just leaning back, enjoying, basking. And he wasn't sure if it was in the show being put on. Or the fact he was a part of it's making. His boyfriend was amazing and hot and talented. Hair curling out of the gel, skin lighter in the sunlight, ridiculous red pants that looked amazing and hugged and the black shirt Kurt had picked out. Also so tight. Fuck, but Blaine had a body.
But he was also confident and charismatic and flirting with every girl around him.
And Kurt knew better and that was the thrill. He'd heard Blaine wax lyrical about the wonders of the curve of a man's ass—shit, Kurt's ass, even thought he'd blushed—and stick his tongue out in distaste at the idea of boobs. Even now as he stared intensely at a cheerleader. Blaine was this other person for everyone else. He was him for Kurt. So Kurt leaned back and revelled in knowing better but enjoying this.
And then Blaine flicked his eyes up, dark, entrancing, as he sang, "To find out I'm in love with you," which was just how he'd practiced it perched on the end of Kurt's bed, bouncing stupidly. And now, here, at McKinley, Kurt just kind of smirks stupidly to himself to hear Blaine slip higher in register and growl and then lose it. Growly, ridiculous noises that the rest of the school thinks are fine but that make Kurt think ungodly things about the boy up there.
He always wondered if this was Blaine losing track of the lyrics. But Blaine always denied it.
And then Blaine finishes. To applause and heavy cheerleader bodies pressed against his, kisses on his cheek—don't they know—and Kurt just gives a lazy clap, a stare, and waits.
Blaine eventually makes it down to their table.
Rachel's back in love with him. The glint in her eye screaming "I can turn him". Kurt panics, just for a second, but Blaine's eyes keep slipping to him, dark and wondering, and Kurt just laughs off Rachel's hand over Blaine's arm, squeezing and saying something cliché about a bicep.
Mike likes him. Santana has always liked him. The rest remains to be seen. But Blaine finds him, in the crowd, hands on his hips, Superman pose. He's confident, but there's just an edge—Kurt thinks only he can hear—that sounds unsure, like he really cares and really wonders. "What'd you think?"
Kurt laughs before he can stop himself. He's breathless. His boyfriend does this to him. More and more often, which makes him wonder if he'll be able to catch his breath at all in a few months time. "Good," he says simply, determined that his voice won't crack.
Blaine just laughs and takes his elbow and pulls him away, knowing eyes are on them until they turn the corner and when Kurt draws around Blaine's face is painted with uncertainty.
"Was it not good?" he asks, sounding stricken.
And god, Kurt feels a thrill at that. Not that Blaine is worried or upset. Just that no one else could ever guess. No one else gets to see the uncertainty. Feels a thrill and then softens because Blaine looks worried. "Amazing," he says and checks, both ways, finds them alone, and presses a quick, hot kiss to his boyfriend's mouth. "Really amazing."
Blaine grins like an insanely happy ten year old and Kurt just wants to kiss him some more.
"Really?" Blaine asks.
Kurt rolls his eyes. He can't believe this boy, this perfect boy, is insecure but he's the only one that knows. At all. "Yeah," he says. "I like the end." He raises his eyebrows suggestively. "I like when you go growly in your songs."
Blaine chuckles and, god—god—he blushes. "It was okay?"
And Kurt kisses him. Really, really wants him. Always wants him, but they'd decided anything overt at school was such a bad idea but Kurt just keeps replaying the splay of his boyfriend's hand over bodies that mean nothing, the growl in his voice and kind of thinks…
Kurt pushes him back, hard as he can, angling him, and Blaine makes a high pitched sound of surprise. No growl there and Kurt just giggles, pushes him hard into the door of the disabled toilet, pushes him back with a shove and then locks it behind them.
Blaine is all red cheeks and open mouth, raised eyebrows. Kurt takes advantage, crowds him back against the wall and kisses him again, tongue in his mouth, lapping, flicking in a tease over his and then away and down his neck, kicking and kissing and sucking at the spot half way that makes him—
Blaine moans and Kurt slides a hand over his mouth.
He stares at him, hips fitted so well with practice and ease, "You have to be quiet," Kurt tells him and then rocks forward, pressing his cock hard against Blaine's, making him groan. "Quiet."
Blaine just nods, soundlessly, bemused and pleased and grinning. "Why?" he asks, and he doesn't mean the quiet, he means the rule-breaking.
Kurt flushes red and rocks again. God, how many times have they gotten off together pressed against Kurt's bed or Blaine's in the last week, every time after Blaine finished practicing this goddamn song? Five? Six times? Kurt's response is Pavlovian, unavoidable.
"I really like when you go low and growly," Kurt whispers against Blaine's mouth. "I can't…" he trails off. Are they up to admitting desperation and need…the requirement for each other? "I can't not," he finishes and then slips to his knees.
He has Blaine's ridiculous red pants undone in an instant, he's undone these pants before. And, Blaine—scandal of scandals—doesn't wear underwear with tight pants. Kurt slips his fingers around his boyfriend's cock and then sinks his mouth down without preamble.
This needs to be fast and satisfying and over now because—oh my god, that was the bell.
Blaine tries to stop him, hands in his hair, a high-pitched yelp that slips low as Kurt sinks his mouth lower and runs his tongue, as rough as he can, along the underside.
He starts moving, unashamed in this act because he's undone Blaine too many times to care how desperate he might seem: Blaine is always worse. Kurt bobs his head and feels Blaine's fingers thread through his hair and moan, "Kurt!"
He pulls off, the sound obscene. "Shhhhh!" he stresses with a salacious grin.
And then he's back, pressing kisses, then licks, up the underside of Blaine's cock, licking around the head, over and over and Blaine's thighs tremble with it. If they had time, Kurt would tease but they don't so he sinks his mouth, tight and hot, back down and raises a hand to press to Blaine's balls, massaging in time with the hot pull off of his mouth.
And then off again, looking up from beneath his lashes to find Blaine staring down, breathing heavy and blushing hard. "You're amazing," Kurt whispers. "But if you don't come in the next half a minute you're on your own," he giggles and Blaine moans and then Kurt's bobbing again, lips tight around his cock.
Obscene and reckless and they can hear people in the corridor, going off to class and they'll be late. But not too late. Blaine's hand tightens in his boyfriend's hair and Kurt hums his disapproval but it feels wonderful to Blaine, that mouth around his cock, and then Kurt licks hard, does something and Blaine rocks forward.
Can't help it. Because when he sings songs like that, growly desperate, stupid songs, he thinks of Kurt and can't stop overthinking.
His hips rock and Kurt's mouth takes him so his hips rock more. Trusting Kurt to stop him from going too far and then Kurt hums something and Blaine bites down hard on his bottom lip to stop from yelping.
"Close," Blaine mumbles, knowing he should be ashamed to be so quick to come but really…really!
Kurt hums hard, sucks a little stronger as Blaine slips his cock deeper and buries his other hand in Kurt's hair and starts angling Kurt's mouth against his cock without thinking. Thrusts in, hard, tight, once, twice. One more time, and then whimpers, swallowing every other noise he wants to make as Kurt's hands slide to his ass and squeeze, perfectly timed as Blaine holds close, cock down Kurt's throat, and comes in desperate, quick spurts.
He breathes out "Fuck," and then slips back to the wall, sliding down to land on his ass, knees up, Kurt still between them. "Fuck," he says again, grinning stupidly, eyes dark and lazy as he stares.
Kurt just leans forward, kisses him hard, sliding his tongue into his mouth and Blaine can taste himself so strongly there it makes him groan—would be loud but it's swallowed up by Kurt's mouth.
"You were amazing," Kurt says, primly and then rolls effortlessly up to his feet.
He busies himself at the mirror, scowling at the mess of his hair, trying to fix it and sliding his eyes to Blaine who's staring back.
"What?" Kurt asks, confident but just a little worried he let himself get carried away. Oh my god, he just gave his boyfriend a blowjob in the toilets at his High School.
Blaine just smiles back, faint and useless and then stumbles up. Grabs toilet paper, turns his back—oh so pointless, really—and cleans himself up. Though he can't help thinking—gasping—at the damn god job Kurt's mouth has already done. Then he zips his ridiculous red pants up and turns back with a deep breath.
"Just you," he says, grinning, kissing Kurt on the cheek because he dare not do anything more.
And Kurt smiles, his worries fleeting, and leans into it because he still can't believe how easy sex and love is with Blaine but he also can't not hum at the feeling it brings. He touches the corners of his mouth, checking that he looks coy and immaculate like usual. Watching Blaine watch him in the mirror.
He listens intently at the door for a second, still watching his boyfriend and when he thinks he can't hear anyone, when he thinks everyone else is in class, he lays a hand over the doorknob and turns to Blaine.
"You should sing growly incoherent bits more often," he says. "My car, after school?"
Blaine just nods and leans back against the wall as Kurt slips out the door. And he's grinning. Because really, as important, as vital, as getting into Glee and fitting in, being loved, all is. His boyfriend is kind of so, so, much more important.