DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee, Fox does. And Ryan Murphy. Title is from "There's A Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered, Honey. You Just Haven't Thought Of It Yet" By Panic! At The Disco.
Warnings are: fingering. Implied voyeurism. Language. Basically, everything that makes up a fic written by me. This was another one that was also posted on my Tumblr.

Usually I wouldn't draw attention to it but it seems that I'm not the only one getting hit with an anon trollstorm on here lately. So, trolls: thanks for advancing my review count with your amazingly-structured reviews of scorn.

TUMBLR IS THAT WAY
endofadream [.] tumblr [.] com

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Kurt doesn't know who's more surprised: him or Blaine when he brings up using Stickam for its more nefarious purposes one night after they're sweaty and naked and tangled above the sheets together.

"You want us to…have sex on a webcam?" Blaine asks, chin propped up on Kurt's stomach as he looks up at him. His brows are furrowed but he doesn't look angry, just contemplative.

"No," Kurt's quick to correct, fingers shaky where they thread through Blaine's sweat-damp curls. He still feels the phantom fullness of Blaine inside him and can't resist wiggling his hips a little to intensify the familiar burn. "I want to finger you on camera. On the internet." He feels a little silly for mentioning it, like they're just kids again fooling around for the first time under the sheets with the lights off. It's not bad and not something most would turn their noses up at, but…it's not really them. And that's why Kurt wants to try it, because they're not "Kurt and Blaine: gay teenagers from Ohio going to college" anymore. Now they're "Kurt and Blaine: graduated men with full-time jobs and a nice apartment."

Blaine inhales sharply, eyes going wider in the dim light of their New York City bedroom. Kurt knows he's usually not this adventurous and that he's definitely not as shy as he used to be, but this is something that he's even surprised himself with by entertaining. It's not really either of them, if he wants to be honest, but he still wants to try, see what it feels like to show everyone the complete control he can have over Blaine.

"You don't have to say yes," Kurt adds when Blaine falters. "It was just a suggestion. I don't want us to get boring or anything, and there are still tons of other things we could try…."

Blaine sits up then, taking Kurt's hand and kissing his knuckles softly while never breaking eye contact. Kurt giggles and flushes, feeling his skin prickling with love and tired arousal and that warmth he always gets around Blaine. "Nothing with you could ever get boring," Blaine says confidently, crawling up the bed so that he's hovering above Kurt, outline darkened and obscured. "And I would love to try something new with you." He presses their foreheads together.

"So you'll do it?" Kurt asks, unable to stop the excited squeak in his voice. He cranes his neck up, looks at Blaine with big unblinking blue eyes. Everything still smells like sex and sweat and them.

Blaine gives him a smile, ducks down to plant a loud kiss on his lips, the way he'd always done back in Ohio. "Give me two glasses of wine and I think I'll be good to go."

xxxxXxxxx

"You're still sure about this?" Blaine asks, a little buzzed from the two (and a half) glasses of wine he'd had at dinner. He swears up and down that it wasn't to steel his nerves (since Blaine's never had a problem with having sex in Kurt's old room while Burt and Carole are downstairs when they visit Lima) but because he "feels more" like this. Kurt still scoffs at it.

Kurt looks back at Blaine, eyebrow raised. "And you're still asking that? Blaine, how long have we been together?" He adjusts the laptop screen again, tilting it down slightly before stepping back to appraise his work. The room is reflected back at them in all its pixilated glory, bed in the forefront of the shot. A thrill runs up Kurt's spine as he imagines Blaine spread out over freshly-laundered sheets.

"Too long," Blaine quips with a slight grin. He steps forward and wraps his arms around Kurt's waist from behind, resting his chin on Kurt's shoulder. "I just want to be sure, baby. This is…different than anything else we've done." He turns his head, pressing his lips briefly to Kurt's neck.

"Just so you know, we're live," Kurt murmurs, covering Blaine's hands with his. He tilts his head, baring his neck, Blaine immediately kissing up the pale curve. "And of course I'm sure. Why should I be the only one who ever gets to see you come?"

Blaine inhales sharply against the offered skin of Kurt's neck, his hands pressing just that much tighter to the flat planes of Kurt's stomach. He crowds forward, rubbing against Kurt's ass; though he had been expecting it, Blaine's hard cock still catches him by surprise. "How many viewers?"

Kurt cranes his neck forward to see, unwilling to disentangle himself from Blaine's clutch, using this new position to push his ass against Blaine's crotch, grinding softly and eliciting a breathy moan. "Um…I think it's fifty."

"Mm, that's not a lot," Blaine muses, opening his mouth to run his tongue along the tendon in Kurt's neck. "How could we up the ante?"

"By getting you naked?"

Blaine laughs, steps back. "I suppose that'd be a good start since I'm the star of this show." Kurt doesn't turn around but he can still see Blaine behind him on the small screen, stepping closer to the bed and grabbing the hem of his shirt to lift it off. He drops it to the floor wordlessly seconds later.

"Right. So." Kurt clears his throat, turning around to look at Blaine and receiving a smile in return. "This is our first time, um, doing this. Not having sex!" he's quick to correct while Blaine laughs in the background. "Our first time letting everyone else…see."

"What he means," Blaine butts in, crowding into Kurt's space and grinning wide at the camera, "is that we're usually not the exhibitionistic type. But Kurt's gotten so good over the years at making me come that he decided to show all you amateurs out there how it's really done."

He turns back to Kurt, wide-eyed, and immediately Kurt's heart starts pounding, skin flushing and blood rushing, everything he's felt for all these years now if he's even in the same room as Blaine. They're really going to do this. They're really going to have sex on webcam for other people's entertainment. They're probably going to—oh god, they're probably going to be made into a video somewhere and put on crappy free porn sites, but he can't even bring himself to care because now Blaine's working on his button and zip, teasingly sliding his jeans down his hips with that little sashaying wiggle he usually only ever pulls out when he's giving Kurt a flirty lap dance.

"I can't believe you're doing that now." A little curling tendril of jealousy rises up unbidden and Kurt does his best to tamp it down as he focuses on the tempting sway of Blaine's ass. Just because this has always been "Kurt's thing" doesn't mean it won't still be after all of this is over. No one watching knows that or anything about either of them, for that matter.

"What?" Blaine looks over his shoulder, thumbs hooked in the waistband of his boxer briefs, the thin material stretched tight around the rounded shape of his ass. In the dim light of the bedroom Kurt can just make out the darkened skin of the birthmark hovering just below Blaine's right shoulder and he's flooded with an immediate, overpowering urge to lick, taste, have. "Giving everyone a show? Isn't that what we wanted, darling?"

Kurt rolls his eyes but can't stop himself from reaching a hand down to palm himself through his jeans, rocking into it with a contented sigh. Blaine steps out of his own jeans and kicks them to the side, reaching back for Kurt's hand. "Isn't it time for you to lose a few layers?" Blaine continues, wiggling his fingers. "I know how much you like them, but still…."

It doesn't take long for Kurt's shirt to join Blaine's clothes on the floor. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans but leaves them hanging low on his hips; this is about Blaine's pleasure, not his. He takes Blaine's hand, runs fingers along calluses and smooth, sensitive skin, links their fingers together and stands so that they're both directly in front of the camera when he cups Blaine's cheek and leans in for a deep, dirty kiss of visible tongue and saliva-slick lips opened too-wide. Blaine tastes like Cabernet Sauvignon, heavy and bitter.

His hand eventually migrates to Blaine's hair, pulling as Blaine clenches his free hand on the curve of Kurt's hip, whimpering loudly into his mouth as he presses closer, closer. Kurt can feel Blaine hard on his hip, feel the damp, sticky spot on the fabric of his boxer briefs and pulls back with a wet smack of swelling lips, says, "You're so hard already, baby."

Presses his lips to Blaine's cheek, then his ear, whispers after he bites gently on the lobe and tugs, "Why don't you show everyone how hard you are for me, hmm?"

He's turning Blaine around before Blaine can respond, pressing his own hard cock to the cleft of Blaine's ass and grinding until Blaine's gasping and reaching back to grab at Kurt's jean-clad thigh. Kurt watches Blaine's mouth fall open on their video, watches the viewer count rise higher and higher as he snakes his hand around Blaine's front, grabbing Blaine's cock through his boxer briefs and stroking along the length, twisting his wrist and palming at the tip.

"Kurt." His name comes off broken, gritty and impossibly deep. Blaine's fingers clench harder, the dulled sting of nails registering in the back of Kurt's mind, barely there through the haze of lust and the thickness of denim.

"On the bed," Kurt whispers, running his fingers along the elastic of Blaine's underwear before dipping under and brushing along coarse, cropped hair to encircle his hand around the base of Blaine's cock, hard and hot and still impossibly soft-skinned. "Naked."

A quick check at his laptop confirms that their view count so far is 74 and climbing steadily higher as Blaine drops his underwear in the background and climbs onto the bed, cock bobbing as he balances on his knees and runs a hand through his hair. He gives a smile to the webcam and then he's situating himself onto his back, wriggling to find the best position. Kurt swallows, licks his lips and tries to breathe. He takes a few steps back to the edge of the bed, pauses and admires Blaine like this, cock hard and flushed dark against his abdomen, knees raised and feet flat on the bed. He looks up at Kurt, wordlessly spurring him on with pupil-dark eyes.

Walking over so he's between Blaine's legs, hands tight on his hips, Kurt pulls him until his ass is resting on the edge of the bed and his legs are wrapped loosely around Kurt's waist. He's blocking most of the camera's view like this, but they can wait.

Blaine props himself up on his elbows as Kurt leans down, then they're kissing, again with too much tongue and saliva when they pull away, but Kurt couldn't care and he's pretty sure that Blaine couldn't care less, either. "I'm gonna make you feel so good," Kurt whispers, rubbing his nose against Blaine's.

Then he's dropped to his knees, running his hands up Blaine's bare legs until he reaches his thighs. "Hold your legs up," he instructs, palms flat on the undersides as he hoists Blaine's legs up. It's been awhile since they've done this; Blaine usually prefers those slow, lazy weekend mornings right after their shower together, but Kurt supposes he'll make an exception this time.

He chances a look back at his laptop, feels his cock twitch in his jeans at the sight of Blaine spread open, hands holding just under his knees as Kurt keeps him open with his palms. "Gorgeous," he breathes, more to himself, and then he's leaning down and breathing hot over Blaine's hole.

He remembers a time when they had both still considered rimming to be a little taboo: what about cleanliness? What if it was too weird? They finally tried it one sticky afternoon during Kurt's first summer back from New York when no one was home and Blaine had deemed it "too hot" to have clothes on even when they first pressed each other into the mattress—it had subsequently been the first time they'd been naked before both were at least half-hard, not counting Blaine's need to always cuddle afterwards. Kurt doesn't think he'll ever forget Blaine breathlessly begging "Eat me out, Kurt, please" as Kurt had licked up his neck and squeezed his ass, doesn't think he'll ever forget his own turned-on surprise.

Now he's gotten better, knows Blaine's sounds and signals and needs almost better than his own. He knows that Blaine likes it best when Kurt starts off with the broad of his tongue rubbing slowly across his hole. He knows that Blaine will start pushing back when Kurt begins to flick his tongue every few strokes; knows that Blaine will keen and moan when Kurt finally points his tongue and takes his time teasingly working Blaine open with overenthusiastic slurping that even he can't be bothered to care about. Kurt knows by now that he'll get Blaine off faster by paying attention to his balls, but this time he isn't looking for fast. He wants to draw this out like they have all the time in the world because now they do. They live together; have their own place, no more nosy stepbrothers and parental figures to come into their bedrooms without knocking.

"Don't touch yourself," he says suddenly, pausing. He notices now that one of Blaine's hands has dropped from his knee, instead clenching into the sheets. He tries not to smirk, really, but Blaine's always so predictable.

"Why?" Blaine whines, lifting his head up to stare pleadingly at Kurt.

"I want to drag this out," Kurt explains, rubbing his thumb back-forth across the sparse hairs on Blaine's thigh, digging in to feel hard, toned muscle shift under him. "We haven't done that in awhile."

Blaine groans, dropping his head back down onto the mattress. His hand relocates back to his knee, pulling his leg up. Kurt's breath catches in his throat. "Do you think people will actually stick around for that?"

Kurt smirks, knowing Blaine won't see it, and takes his hand from Blaine's thigh, slicking up his index finger with saliva before bringing it down between Blaine's legs where he's still slick and glistening from Kurt's tongue. He traces the pad of his finger around the muscle before pushing in slightly. Immediately Blaine's back is arching and he's moaning loud; Kurt remembers when they'd still lived in Lima how much of a chore it was keeping Blaine quiet. He's glad some things never change and that Blaine's still as shameless as ever.

"Oh, fuck," Blaine groans, pushing his hips back. His nails dig crescents into his skin and he spreads his legs wider. Kurt's so, so glad now that he'd made Blaine do yoga with him a few times a week.

"I think they'll stick around for the amazing noises you make," Kurt says, twisting around to look into the camera. He can see the steadily moving comment box but doesn't dare to read any of them; this is just about him and Blaine and, quite frankly, he doesn't need to see horny comments like oh my god he's so fuckin' hot to affirm what he already knows.

Blaine is his and he is Blaine's and they've been in tune with each other since they were teenagers and now they can drink and rent a car and get married if they want to—and they do, Kurt's seen Blaine look longingly at married couples, eyes flickering down to their hands, before sighing wistfully, chin propped up on his palm. Kurt has a ring in a velvet box hidden in a rarely-used drawer, waiting and hoping Blaine doesn't beat him to the punch. It doesn't feel right, not yet, but someday, someday it will.

He slides his finger out, going back to holding up Blaine's thigh. Blaine's relaxed a little more by now, worked open wet by Kurt's finger and tongue, and this time it's easier to slide in, feel the constriction around his tongue as Blaine tightens in surprise.

"Kurt, baby, oh my god." Kurt lets go of Blaine's thigh again, wets two fingers and rubs them up and down the soft, sensitive skin between Blaine's balls and hole before crossing them and sliding in, constriction scorchingly tight and hot around the tapered tips of his fingers. He spreads after allowing Blaine a few seconds to adjust, going as far as he can and pressing his face back to Blaine's ass, licking in between his fingers with harsh, panting breaths. "Yes, right there, oh, yes."

"I swear, you must moonlight as a porn star," Kurt says, pulling back. His chin is wet, tongue sore, fingers still holding Blaine open. The spit will dry out soon, so lube will be their best bet if he plans on fingering Blaine for an extended period of time, but he just doesn't want to move. He wants to make Blaine come hard and quick and dirty and, most importantly, loud.

He eventually stands up, letting his fingers slide out of Blaine, and walks over to the side of the bed. Blaine's eyes are half shut, mouth open and lips slightly dry. His hair is already beginning to curl at his temples and his skin is flushed dark pink at the apples of his cheeks. "Hi there," Kurt says softly, smiling.

"C'mere," Blaine says, letting go of his legs to make grabby hands at Kurt. "Kiss me."

The angle is awkward and their mouths don't move together quite right, but Blaine's grabbing at his chin and holding him there as he licks deep into Kurt's mouth, tasting and moaning in that sex-deep register of his, and that more than makes up for a sore neck.

Their lube is in the bedside drawer and Kurt retrieves it when Blaine breaks the kiss, going back down to the end of the bed before pausing. He looks to Blaine, then the laptop, then back again. "Should we move the laptop closer?" The question is to the room, not anyone in particular.

This time he does chance a look at the comments and isn't surprised at the resounding yeses that have followed. Their bedroom is small, so getting closer isn't much of a problem when he rolls their desk chair over, taking the decorative pillows he'd removed from the bed to boost the laptop up further. The result is good enough, Kurt deems, and he steps back and to the side of the bed, placing his palm on Blaine's knee.

"Remember, no touching yourself," Kurt says. Then he's nudging Blaine's legs a little further apart and slicking up his fingers with lube, warming it up before circling Blaine's hole and pushing two fingers in to the last knuckle.

Blaine gasps, back going taut, his eyes squeezed shut. He grabs handfuls of the fitted sheet as a distraction and plants his feet flat on the bed. Kurt crooks his fingers, moving his wrist slightly to get a better angle before pulling out to the tips of his fingers and fucking back in. He's almost found that spot, rubs around it with slow circles until Blaine's noises have mixed and melded together into one wavering perfect sound.

He forgets all about the laptop and concentrates solely on watching Blaine as he begins to come apart. Blaine's keeping true to his word and not touching himself, his cock instead untouched against his abdomen, the tip shiny with pre-come pooling out onto his stomach.

Kurt pulls out despite Blaine's whine and slicks his fingers again, this time adding his ring finger. He slides back in past the rings of muscle, Blaine clenching around him as he fucks back onto Kurt's hand with a grunt. It's slick, the sound resonating in the otherwise-quiet room, and once, back when they started, Kurt would have found this gross or at the very least embarrassing.

Now, all he can concentrate on is how open Blaine is for him, how easily he takes Kurt's fingers and manages to somehow beg for more with every cant of his hips and breathy moan.

His wrist is beginning to feel the exertion, muscles starting that low burn. He changes the angle again, presses his other palm flat to Blaine's stomach above his cock and goes deeper, crooking his fingers. Instantly, like a switch, Blaine is writhing and moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear, head pressed hard back against the mattress as he bucks up against Kurt's hand.

"You look so hot like this," Kurt whispers reverently, rubbing torturously slow against Blaine's prostate now that he's found it. "So fucking hot, baby."

"Oh my god, Kurt, oh god, shit," Blaine whines, hands grabbing harder at the sheets, circling around Kurt's wrist briefly before falling back to the bed. His legs move, cross for a few seconds like he can't control himself, and this part, Blaine's sensitivity and reaction, is always Kurt's favorite.

"Are you gonna come?" Kurt asks in a wrecked voice a few moments later. He feels like he could come just by rubbing against the edge of their bed. His mind is fuzzy, skin buzzing low under the surface.

Blaine's back arches, tendons in his neck standing stark. His hips fuck down onto Kurt's fingers and he moans out, "Yes, oh god, yes." His hands grip the sheets (no, can't touch can't can't can't), legs still spread wide enough to allow Kurt room to work, allow for the camera to see everything, see Kurt's fingers disappearing into his lube-and-saliva shiny-slick hole, see him stretched wide and red.

"You gonna come after I finger that tight little asshole?" Kurt whispers, almost too low for the speakers to catch up on as he bends down over Blaine's ear. His wrist burns but it's so worth it to see Blaine so wantonly spread out like this, legs open as wide as he can get, torso undulating under Kurt's pressing palm.

"Yes, yes, yes, want to." Blaine's panting, quick and rapid like he does when he gets close, moaning whenever Kurt finds his prostate again or spreads his fingers.

Kurt leans down again, captures Blaine's lips in a kiss and speeds up his hand, working it up-down gently but roughly, tip of his palm pressed to the swollen rim of Blaine's hole.

"Kurt, oh, fuck," Blaine moans, voice breaking as he grabs onto Kurt's wrist, quick as a snake's strike.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asks suddenly. Panic flares up in his chest as he starts to slide his fingers out. What if he's been too rough? The last thing he wants to do is hurt Blaine, to ruin all of this because he's getting too into the familiar motions of trying to top every time Blaine says he's come harder than he has before. They're a friendly-competitive couple and are both always looking for ways to outdo each other in the bedroom.

"'M fine," Blaine gasps, head falling back onto the pillows. His fingers are still wrapped around Kurt's wrist but there's no force behind it, nothing to stop Kurt from moving. "Just too much all at once, don't worry." He's propped himself up, mouth lax as he stares down his body with half-lidded eyes. He looks up at Kurt, then down at the laptop screen. "Well?" he prompts after wetting his lips, wriggling his hips slightly and forcing Kurt's fingers back in. "Are you gonna make me come, sweet thing?"

Kurt shakes his head to clear it, then he's gripping Blaine's thigh with his free hand, pushing open until Blaine's hissing in pain but making no move to stop him. He flexes his fingers, twists his wrist, then he's pushing back in-out into Blaine's slick heat.

He looks at the video onscreen: it's slightly delayed, his hand a blur, sounds tinny and distant, but oh god it's there and however many people viewing are seeing this, seeing him get his boyfriend off with rough, deliberate strokes. He feels dirty, like the deviants he'd avoided in less-than-savory internet porn when he was a baby-faced teenager.

It's what almost tips him over the edge himself—that knowledge combined with the knowledge that Blaine's so close to coming without either of them having touched his cock since clothes had been taken off. He lets out his own little moan, says, "Blaine. Blaine, look at me."

Blaine looks up, eyes barely open like he can't get them wider. He's working his hips in circles against Kurt's hand, pushing whenever Kurt's fingers stop moving to keep the momentum going. "Love you," he says, stroking as far up Kurt's arm as he can reach. The words are whispered, said on a barely-audible breath.

Kurt smiles, leans down to kiss Blaine, swallow his moan as he drives deeper until Blaine's pulling away, head to the side as he gasps and moans, starts to come in streaks across his torso. His body shudders as he comes down with a long, low whine, legs falling lax and folding at the knee to the bed.

Kurt doesn't pull out until Blaine's batting weakly at his hand, then he's petting along Blaine's thigh with his clean hand, following up the dips and curves of his body until he reaches his cheek. He feels the skin and muscle pull under his palm as Blaine smiles and looks up at him.

"You're perfect," he breathes.

Kurt rolls his eyes but doesn't bother to hide his own matching smile. He presses a light kiss to Blaine's lips, pulls back. He's about to shut off the computer when he hears Blaine say, "Wait…did you come yet?"

"Uh…no?" he says. Turning around, he watches Blaine move up the bed until his back is propped up on their pillows. He opens his arms wide.

"What?"

"C'mere, silly," Blaine says, as bright-eyed as ever. "I wanna suck you off."

Kurt looks back at the laptop one more time before sighing and working his jeans, then his briefs, down and off. The bed dips and shakes under the weight of his knees as he climbs on, crawling over to Blaine and swinging a leg around his chest, trying not to think about how open he is for the camera right now. He grabs onto the headboard and sighs in relief as Blaine wraps a hand around the base of his cock, resting his weight on his elbow as he leans forward and keeps his eyes trained on Kurt as he takes as much into his mouth as he can.

"Blaine," Kurt groans brokenly, trying not to let his eyes fall shut. Blaine's lashes flutter against the tops of his cheekbones when he pulls away to swirl his tongue around the head, tilting his head to run his tongue along the thin veins snaking around the girth of Kurt's cock.

Blaine swallows him down again, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head, laving his tongue flat along the underside as he goes. Kurt feels his thighs trembling, knows he's close and knows by now that Blaine never pulls off at this point.

"Fuck. Blaine, I—I'm gonna…." His words die out, Blaine sliding further down until Kurt feels the tip of his cock hit the back of Blaine's throat, hears the wet, almost choking sound Blaine makes before pulling back off with the slick noise of saliva, a thick strand stringing to his bottom lip as he catches his breath and then sinks back down, twisting the hand he has on the base of Kurt's cock.

Kurt's toes curl and then he's gone, coming in spurts inside Blaine's mouth, hips twitching as he fights the urge to fuck forward. Blaine moans lowly, throat working as he swallows and swallows, some still leaking out of the corner of his mouth in a thin line.

Blaine sags back, lets Kurt's cock fall from his lips and instantly Kurt's on him, leaning down and kissing him, licking up the trickle of come and moaning as Blaine sucks it off his tongue. There's still cooling come on Blaine's torso, still lube on Kurt's fingers, but he doesn't care as he sinks down over Blaine and kisses him until they can't breathe.

"Maybe we should turn off the laptop," Blaine murmurs, running a hand down Kurt's back. Kurt hums in agreement and slides off of Blaine.

He doesn't spare a glance at the comments or the view count as he walks over and shuts the lid of the laptop.

He's still Blaine's and Blaine's still his and comments stating how hot they are together don't need to confirm what he already knows.