DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee, Fox does. And Ryan Murphy.
Warnings are: slight frottage, awkward first-time blowjobs, leeeettle bit of swearing.
More stuff crossposted from the Kink Meme and my Tumblr! As always, reviewers, you own my heart and my soul and just me.
Prompt is at the bottom!
TUMBLR IS THAT WAY
endofadream [.] tumblr [.] com
Your house, after school, clothes optional? ;)
I think I've opened Pandora's Box.
I could make an "opening" joke
If you want
Like how well you opened up for my fingers last week
BLAINE. WE ARE IN CLASS.
Theres less than a half-hour in the day, sweetheart. We could start early
We can't do this here.
Well duh. That's why I suggested your bedroom, silly
Oh god. Why do I let you talk me into these things?
I could think of a few reasons…
Okay, no, oh my god. Fine. My bed and optional clothing is definitely a perfect couple.
Yaaaaaay! Love yew :3
I love you, too, though sometimes I don't know why. Now stop texting in class! I can see you over there and so can Ms. Frankel.
Blaine winces and looks up, immediately dropping his phone onto his lap. On the other side of the room by the door Kurt hides his smile with his hand, surreptitiously sliding his own phone into his pocket. He should feel worse that Blaine's getting in trouble, but really, he brought it on himself and he's completely 100% responsible for Kurt being half-hard in his too-tight jeans right now. "Yes?"
Ms. Frankel purses her lips and holds out her hand, impatiently snapping her fingers. A few of the other students in the room snicker and Blaine has no choice but to heave a sigh and pick up his phone, leaning up to drop it in Ms. Frankel's hand.
"You can pick it up in the office after school, Mr. Anderson," she says, glancing at the unlocked screen, and Kurt feels a tremor of fear run through him. Please don't look at the texts, please don't look at the texts…
She doesn't, instead opening a drawer in her desk and setting Blaine's phone in there, muttering something about over-privileged private school kids. Kurt lets out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and slumps back down, picking up his pencil and pretending to pay attention.
Blaine glances back a few minutes later, turning slightly in his seat, and Kurt catches his eye with a sympathetic pout and a mouthed 'I'm sorry.' Blaine rolls his eyes in return, pretending to be angry, but Kurt can still see the twitching of his lips as he tries not to smile.
The rest of the lecture takes a backseat as Kurt replays Blaine's texts over and over in his head, his crossed leg bouncing anxiously up and down. Last week had been amazing—of course it had. Losing his virginity to his boyfriend was bound to be an unforgettable experience, and all of those female coming-of-age novels hadn't lied about that.
What they had neglected to mention, however, is just how difficult everyday tasks would become once you've seen your extremely attractive significant other naked. It's always something simple, like Blaine picking up a pencil or grabbing his can of soda in the cafeteria—all Kurt can see are those fingers wrapped around his cock for the first time, they way Blaine had made a little gasping, surprised inhale as trailed slow teasing fingers up the length until Kurt was twitching on the sheets.
He chews on the end of his pencil, sneaking a glance across the room to see Blaine hunched over his notebook, scribbling quickly. He's seen the muscles working under Blaine's skin, has dug his nails into those shoulders. Blaine shifts a little in his seat, repositioning himself and crossing his leg before straightening up and arching his back to work out a kink, tipping his head back and lolling it from side-to-side.
I want to blow him. The thought crosses Kurt's mind quickly, unbidden, and he furrows his brow in surprise at his own sudden thought. They haven't done that yet, and it might be a little weird, sure, taking the big leap before any of the smaller jumps, but they're not exactly traditional anyway.
Kurt catches Blaine sneaking a glance back and their eyes meet again, that same warm feeling of bubbly love blooming throughout his body and making him feel helium-light. He smiles and Blaine smiles back before turning around to continue writing. Kurt stares, watching the back of Blaine's head, the strong muscles of his arms visible in his short-sleeve polo, and thinks yeah, I definitely want to blow him.
When the bell rings the decision is made. Kurt stands up quickly, grabbing his bag and tucking his books into it before Blaine's crossed the room.
"You suck," Blaine says when he makes it over to Kurt's desk, the discordant noise of multiple chair legs scraping across the floor nearly drowning out his voice. His own bag is slung over his shoulder, tugging a little at the collar of his shirt. Kurt tries very hard not to think about making that exposed skin.
Kurt clucks his tongue instead and swings his bag over his shoulder, going for breezy to hide the nerves roiling around inside his stomach. "I'm not the one who initiated the texting in the first place."
"Well pardon me for acknowledging the existence of my incredibly sexy boyfriend and how incredibly sexy he looked last week on my sheets," Blaine says, speaking quietly so none of the students they pass on their way to the office can hear him, though Kurt doubts they could even if they wanted to with the after-school noise level at its peak right now.
He swallows, closing his eyes. That's not fair what Blaine is doing. They round the corner, office in sight, and before Kurt lets himself think it through he's quickly pressing Blaine against the wall next to a bank of lockers.
"When we get to my house," he whispers, lips pressed to the shell of Blaine's ear, "I'm going to make you come so hard you forget your name."
He pulls away, then, quickly looking around to make sure no one saw. Blaine is still pressed against the wall, eyes wide, and Kurt lets himself feel a little triumphant for once. "Well, come on," he says, turning on his heel and heading for the office. "Let's go get your phone."
"Mm. I love kissing you," Blaine says, hands tight on Kurt's hips once the door to Kurt's bedroom is shut behind them. He presses one, two sloppy kisses to Kurt's jaw, then to his lips. His voice is a little ragged, a little desperate, and Kurt preens on the inside that Blaine's like this because of him.
"I love kissing you more," Kurt replies, curving his palm over Blaine's jaw as he tilts his head and kisses deep, running his tongue along the inside of Blaine's cheek. He presses closer, slotting a thigh between Blaine's, and moves his mouth to the little patch of skin under Blaine's ear.
"Bed—oh—come on," Blaine gasps, grabbing Kurt's hand and tugging him forward until they both lose their balance and fall onto the mattress, bouncing and giggling as they continue to kiss, Kurt climbed on top of Blaine with one foot still on the floor.
Kurt remembers all the times they've made out on this bed before: the times when there had still been Dalton blazers and blue-and-red striped ties, when no part of their bodies would be touching except for their lips, when Kurt was too shy to let Blaine know how turned on he was because of the way Blaine would nibble at his lip and pull back before kissing him again, capturing his mouth and pushing him back with the force of it.
He remembers gradually building up to that, to legs being spread and wrapped around thighs, to hips being straddled and moans being heard. The first time he had ever felt Blaine hard had been on this bed just a few months ago and the first time he'd almost come in his pants with Blaine straddling him had been that very same day.
They inch up the bed kiss by kiss until Blaine's head is on the pillows and Kurt's thighs are comfortably trapping Blaine's hips. They exchange lazy, wet kisses, Kurt focusing on the sound of their combined labored breathing and their occasional moan or shuddering exhale until Blaine's hands slide down his sides, fingers tucking up under the hem of his shirt.
"Off," Blaine murmurs against Kurt's lips. "Shirtless making out is a lot nicer."
Kurt laughs, cracking his eyes open, and sits up, pressing hard onto Blaine's lap. He quickly strips off his shirt, dropping it to the floor beside his bed. Blaine makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat and squeezes his eyes shut, resting his hands on Kurt's waist.
"You're so beautiful," Blaine says, and Kurt stills, raising an eyebrow until Blaine's eyes blink open and he looks up. "What?"
Kurt smiles. "You're only saying that because I'm shirtless and sitting on your lap." Kurt pushes up the hem of Blaine's polo, exposing taut, olive skin. "Now come on. The sooner you take your shirt off the sooner I can get naked."
It isn't long until their clothes are combined on the floor and Kurt's pressing down onto Blaine, nothing between them as he squeezes a little lube onto his palm from the bottle he'd retrieved from his drawer and takes their cocks in hand, loosely thrusting up into his fist. The head of his cock catches on the ridge of Blaine's and they moan, Blaine tightening his grip on Kurt's shoulders and hitching his leg higher, bucking up as he kisses hard and sloppy, lips sliding wetly together, tongues tangled and then licking across sweat-salty skin.
"Blaine, baby, I was—mm—thinking," Kurt eventually says, running his hand up Blaine's side from his tapered waist up to the delicious broadness of his chest and shoulders. He slides their tangled legs together, letting his ankle brush up the length of Blaine's calf. Blaine's head is still tipped back, neck exposed, and he does nothing but mumble out a string of vowels and maybe-words, eyes closed and chest still pressed up flat against Kurt's. His hands are curled around Kurt's shoulders as he stutters his hips up. There's almost no room to breathe and Kurt loves it, loves every second of them naked and twined together like they're meant to spend the rest of their lives like this, as two posing as one.
"Blaine," Kurt presses, repeats. Finally he forces himself up and away slightly, biting back his moan as their cocks rub together between their bodies, sparking flashes of heat that hitch his breath and curl his toes and make him want to forget all of his earlier plans.
"Kurt," Blaine whines, opening his eyes to reveal dilated-dark hazel. His lower lip is jutted into a pout and his lashes sweep across his cheekbones like a raven's wings as he blinks. "Come back."
"Not until you listen to me."
"I want to listen to you moan," Blaine replies, going for sultry; Kurt would laugh if that deepened register didn't affect him like it does, eliciting a full-body shiver. "C'mon."
"No, no, stop." Kurt finally sits up, gently unhooking Blaine's limbs from around his, and resolutely ignores Blaine's hurt look. "I really…need to talk to you."
"What is it?" Blaine asks, brows immediately creased in worry. The bed shifts as he moves and reaches out, touching Kurt gently on the arm and allowing himself a little smile when Kurt takes his hand and threads their fingers together. "Did I do something?"
Kurt laughs, the sound trilling and nervously high. "Oh god, no. It's nothing like that. You're fine. You're perfect. You're gorgeous." Blaine flushes and Kurt feels his heart skitter around in his chest. He doesn't know how it's possible to feel this much for this one boy—sometimes it's like he'll explode and there's nothing he can do about it except love Blaine harder and clutch him closer. "It's more about what I want to do."
"What do you want to do?"
"I know we did everything backwards," Kurt says, meeting Blaine's eyes with only a little bit of difficulty. "We had sex before…sex-sex."
Blaine's nose scrunches up and he smiles, biting his lower lip. He actually looks bashful, like he's the one embarrassed to be saying all this aloud. "'Sex-sex'?"
Kurt rolls his eyes and swats at Blaine's shoulder with his free hand. "You know what I mean, smartass. What I'm trying to say is…I want to—I, uh…I wanna blow you." He says the last part in a mumbled rush, ducking his head. He's no good at this, damn it. He'd had a hard time talking about sex before he'd had it, and now, even though he knows what it's like to come unglued at the hands of another, knows the filling, stretching, heavy weight of another's cock inside him, he still can't get the right words out. It all seems to wrong and—and clinical to him.
To Blaine, however, it must hit just the right note. When Kurt finally looks up, lower lip caught between his teeth in anticipation, Blaine's jaw is dropped and his eyes have darkened more. It's like that tumultuous week before their first time when everything had been tension-charged and Kurt had maybe jerked off one too many times to the thought of popping buttons and tearing inseams in their haste to bare skin and learn the complicated art of pleasing each other. "You want to blow me?" he reiterates, dumbfounded. He's breathing a little heavier, his fingers gripping a little tighter to Kurt's, and when Kurt's eyes unconsciously flicker down he remembers that they're both naked, that Blaine is still hard and flushed and leaking, Christ.
Too afraid to give a verbal response Kurt nods, resting his hand on Blaine's knee. He wants to—there's so much that he wants to do to Blaine. He wants to figure out everything that sets him off, what touch will elicit what reaction. He wants to know what Blaine tastes like, what he feels like on his tongue, down his throat.
Blaine lets out a choked, involuntary sound and rests his hand on Kurt's, lacing their fingers together so that both their hands are being held. "God, I…" He trails off, looking to the side as his fingers tighten. "Kurt," he says empathetically, facing forward again. "Are you sure you want to…? Because I don't want to push you."
Kurt blinks. "You do realize that I'm the one who asked, right?"
Blaine laughs a little hysterically, leaning forward quickly, unexpectedly, to press a messy, wet kiss against Kurt's lips. "It's just—oh my god, Kurt, you have no idea how many times I've jerked off to the thought of your lips around my dick."
The words send a jolt like lightning down Kurt's spine and he inhales sharply, closing his eyes. They've been here. They've talked about masturbation before, how often they do it, why they do it, but never the…they've never gotten specific. Blaine's never mentioned his fantasies and Kurt's never admitted more than the "occasional night when I know everyone else is asleep."
Blaine's thought about him. And it shouldn't be surprising since they're boyfriends; they plan on sticking around together for a very long time. They've had sex now, bared everything they have to get that extra bit closer to each other. But it's still surprising to Kurt because Blaine is sitting in front of him, naked, with his lips parted and slick from saliva—my saliva Kurt rationalizes—and, oh god, Kurt's one-hundred-percent sure that he wants to do everything to him.
"C'mere," Kurt says, grabbing the back of Blaine's neck. He tugs him forward, slotting their legs together before licking his way into Blaine's mouth. The moan that Blaine lets out vibrates through their bodies, down to where their cocks, slick from lube and pre-come, are pressed between their stomachs.
Kurt gently pushes Blaine back until he's lying flat on the bed, legs spread and ankles hooked around Kurt's thighs. He trails his tongue from Blaine's lush lips after a final gentle nip, drawing a cooling line from Blaine's chin down to his throat and finally over his rapidly-beating carotid artery.
Blaine draws in a sharp breath, tilting his head to the side as Kurt bites down gently, sucking the flesh between his teeth. His hands come to rest on Kurt's shoulders, nails digging in, and Kurt pulls away to admire the barely-reddened flesh, eyes flickering upward to meet Blaine's, to see his lips parted in arousal, see the sweat beading on his temples and forehead.
He did that.
I did that.
Kurt moans softly, then, closing his eyes. His breathing quickens, cock giving a jump, and it's all too amazing, all so surreal. He's made Blaine look absolutely wrecked. He's made him come before with the tight, slick heat of his body and he's going to do it again, this time with the slick, hot suction of his mouth. He's going to do it for as long as he possibly can.
A little bolder now, he ducks his head and laves his tongue across Blaine's clavicle, down the middle of his chest to the subtle muscle definition of his abdomen, comes across the taste of sweat, of bitter cologne long since faded throughout the course of the day. He brings a hand up once he reaches Blaine's navel, rubbing the broad of his palm across a nipple, feeling it peak and tighten as he works over it. Blaine gasps and arches up into the touch, his legs falling open a little wider, folded at the knee.
Kurt digs his thumbs into the divots of Blaine's hips, that sharp "V" leading down to Blaine's dark patch of clipped pubic hair, the dark, flushed skin of his cock and balls. He lifts up, moves away, directing his attention to Blaine's pleasure-slack face.
They haven't talked about this much at all, and maybe that's why Kurt suddenly wants to do it. He's seen Blaine's reaction when he takes control, is adventurous like Blaine's suggested. He craves that, wants more and wants to take Blaine apart, piece by piece, until he's flayed open, every little need and want visible for Kurt to inspect and try out.
"Is this what you imagined?" he asks, then, dipping his voice low and enhancing the raspy quality it always takes on when he's riled up. He lets his hands fall, drops his body low to the mattress between Blaine's legs, and slides his hands under Blaine to cup his ass briefly before pulling back to curl around Blaine's hips, let his fingers trace over smooth, warm skin stretched tight across bone. Blaine inhales sharply and whines, one of his hands unclenching from the sheets to pet along Kurt's forearm. "Me like this, ready to suck you off?"
And it's not perfect, god, no, it's borderline bad porn quality, but they're still new, they're young—they have time and for now, it's enough.
Blaine whines in response, squeezing his eyes shut. Kurt lifts a hand up to wrap it around Blaine's cock, lets the familiar slippery-hot feel of flushed-hard flesh be enclosed in his shaky fingers. Blaine shifts restlessly and Kurt only allows himself a moment to think I have no idea what I'm doing, oh god before he's leaning up on his elbows and sinking his mouth down over Blaine's cock.
"Oh my god!" Blaine's squeak is immediate, surprised and strained, and his hips buck up a little too far as Kurt takes in a little too much, the head of Blaine's cock hitting his soft palette. His throat immediately convulses, the overwhelming urge to vomit rising up along with panic, and Kurt quickly pulls back, eyes watering as he coughs and sputters and flushes red, the taste of Blaine's pre-come still heavy and bitter on his tongue.
"Oh, god, baby, I am so sorry." Blaine's propped up on his elbow and babbling now, rushed-together phrases of didn't hurt you, did I and are you okay, fuck, so, so sorry leaving his mouth as Kurt continues to cough and wipe his eyes.
"Blaine, honey," Kurt says when he regains control over his throat again, blinking in surprise at how raspy his voice has gotten, "I'm okay. Really. Just"—he presses a careful palm to Blaine's abdomen, holding his hips down—"flat to the bed, okay?" He wipes the last of the moisture from the corners of his eyes with the back of his other hand.
Blaine nods, still looking a little dazed and more than a little apologetic, and this time when Kurt takes Blaine's cock in hand he sucks only the head between his lips, getting used to the sensation of velvet-smooth skin under his lips, the stretch he has to make to accommodate it and the careful way he has to cover his teeth. Blaine moans lowly and drops his head back to the pillows, gripping Kurt's hair when Kurt experimentally swirls his tongue around the head, dipping into the slit to gather up the bead of pre-come.
"Oh, fuck," Blaine breathes, and Kurt can feel his muscles flutter under his touch, his hips try and stutter off the bed. "Kurt, baby, oh my god."
A pleasant flutter uncoils in his stomach and floods through Kurt's body at the praise. He sinks a little lower, empowered, and runs his tongue along the underside. Blaine's moans have deepened, his breathing becoming a little more erratic, and when Kurt sinks lower still and lifts back up, sucking in and hollowing his cheeks like he's read about, Blaine swears and tugs sharply on his hair, torso undulating under Kurt's palm.
Kurt moans around Blaine's cock, rubbing against the bed at the stinging pleasure-pain emanating from his scalp. His heart is pounding, ears fine-tuned to every inhale and gasp Blaine makes as he quakes under him, thighs flexing as his back arches and his fingers scratch through Kurt's hair, down the nape of his neck where he finally cradles Kurt's head.
Blaine is heavy and thick inside his mouth, weighing on his tongue as Kurt traces absent patterns along the veins and then the head as he pulls off once again with the slick noise of saliva and a not-on-purpose pop that has Blaine's head digging into the pillows and a moan rumbling a deep bass from his chest. Kurt keeps his hand on Blaine's cock, jerking him slowly as he lifts his other hand from Blaine's abdomen to trace up his torso, feel along the dip of his stomach and the rise of his ribs, the bump of each bone under the thin layer of skin and muscle. Blaine opens his eyes as Kurt scratches through the sparse hair on his chest, smiles down dazedly at Kurt and traces his hand lovingly along his jaw.
When he sinks back down this time Kurt's sure to maintain eye contact with Blaine, fluttering his lashes as he drops his jaw and goes as far as he dares. He presses his hips harder to the mattress, working for any sort of friction as he bobs his head to meet the circle of his fist. Vibrations are good, he's discovered, and as he sinks the lowest he's gone, the faint tickle of his gag reflex kicking in, he hums and twists his wrist, gaining more confidence as he goes.
And then, suddenly, Blaine's body is going rigid, back arching far off the bed and he's tugging hard, almost too hard, at Kurt's hair, and moaning desperately. Before Kurt's mind can catch up to Blaine's torn-off whine and what it might—probably does—mean Blaine is coming in hot, rapid pulses into Kurt's mouth.
Even if he'd wanted to swallow, Kurt's so surprised that he's frozen in place as Blaine gasps out his orgasm. He can feel it leak from the corners of his lips (Blaine's come oh my god oh my god he came in my mouth) and trickle slowly down his chin. The steady rhythm he had against the mattress falters before stopping completely, that low buzz just under his skin dulling and fading from the desperate level it had been moments before.
"Kurt?" Blaine's voice sounds fuzzy and tired, slow like molasses, and the bed creaks as he lifts up. "Kurt, are you—oh my god. I didn't…I forgot. Oh, fuck, Kurt, I'm so sorry—"
Kurt doesn't know when he pulled off of Blaine's cock, but he's got a mouthful of hot, bitter come and if he swallows he just may spit it right back up. He resolutely avoids Blaine's eyes as he scrambles up and makes a dash for the bathroom where he promptly leans over the sink and spits, twisting the faucet on to wash it down the drain. It's probably really bad blowjob etiquette to do this but god, aren't people supposed to warn first?
"Kurt?" Blaine's voice sounds closer now, and when Kurt looks up he sees that Blaine has followed him, rubbing his arm awkwardly and looking sadder than Kurt's even seen him. "I really am sorry. I completely forgot to warn you, and I—I'm such an idiot. I guess I got a little carried away. I'm sorry."
Kurt turns the tap off, wiping at his mouth with the washrag he keeps on the edge of the counter. His face is burning and he feels so small, so stupid, for reacting like this. Blaine takes a tentative step toward him and when Kurt doesn't move he throws his arms around Kurt's shoulders, tugging him close. His cock, still hard despite everything, rubs against Blaine's hip and he gasps, pressing his face into the crook of Blaine's neck.
Blaine laughs softly, teases, "Looks like even that couldn't deter you."
"Shut up," Kurt mumbles, trying not to grind into Blaine's hip. "I was really close before you came in my mouth and threw my whole plan off-kilter."
"I still am so, so sorry about that."
Kurt pulls away and leans forward to press a kiss to Blaine's lips, smiling softly to let Blaine know that it's really okay. "At least it wasn't my eye."
Blaine winces and takes Kurt's hand, tugging him out of the bathroom. He looks down, trailing his eyes slowly back up, and Kurt squirms a little under his gaze. "Let me finish you off, okay?" he asks quietly, eyes slightly hooded. Kurt nods, and then Blaine is pressing him down onto the mattress, straddling his hips. He pecks Kurt's lips, his jaw, his nose, and when he finally kisses him he slides a hand between them to wrap around Kurt's cock.
"Oh!" Kurt gasps, mouth falling open. Blaine runs his tongue along his lower lip, biting down gently as he palms the head of Kurt's cock, then trails down with a tight-fisted grip. Kurt breathes out a whine, clutching to Blaine's shoulders as he feels the heat build already at the base of his spine.
"God," Blaine murmurs, tucking his face in the crook of Kurt's neck as he works his fist faster, tighter, "you have no idea how hot you looked earlier."
He takes Kurt's earlobe between his teeth, bites down and tugs, and Kurt's arching his back with a cry, thrusting up into Blaine's fist. "That's it, baby," Blaine whispers. His body shakes above Kurt's, arm working hard and fast. "Come on. It's okay."
Kurt's toes curl and his back arches up once more before he's coming with a low moan between their bodies, hot splashes over Blaine's fist and their stomachs. He squeezes his eyes shut, tries to even out his breathing as he comes down and not whimper as the lack electric tendrils fade out. His limbs feel liquefied, everything too-heavy and sunk deep into the sheets. He registers Blaine shifting above him, climbing off and padding quietly toward the bathroom. He doesn't move when Blaine returns with the washrag, now damp with warm water, and wipes off his chest.
He only opens his eyes once Blaine settles down beside him. He turns over, resting his head on Blaine's chest, content to just be. He wishes they had more time to do just this, just lie together and not think about anything other than the warmth and comfort they get from this, but he figures that maybe someday down the line when high school is done they'll have an apartment and all the time in the world, perhaps maybe even too much time.
"I'm sorry I screwed everything up," Blaine eventually says, wrapping his arm around Kurt's shoulder. His thumb moves smoothly back-forth.
Kurt scoffs, tightening his hold on Blaine's waist. "You didn't."
"I should have warned you. It's only proper."
"Let's just admit that we're both really, really inexperienced, overenthusiastic teenagers," Kurt says because it's the truth and he's honestly only just now starting to realize it. Nothing needs to be perfect—that's what Kurt likes the most about them. He has no reason to feel embarrassed and stupid because of what happened. They aren't perfect and Blaine's imperfections are what Kurt fell in love with in the first place.
Blaine drops a kiss to the top of Kurt's head, then laughs. "Next time will be better."
Kurt smiles and wiggles his way up the bed until his head is resting on the pillow next to Blaine's. He takes in the perfect bow of Blaine's pink lips, the brush of his lashes as he blinks, the wide honey hazel of his irises as he stares. He watches Blaine smile, watches the lines fan out from the corners of his eyes, and he thinks, fondly, I love being in love.
Out loud he says, as he brushes back a lock of Blaine's hair, "Next time will be phenomenal."
Because they're just teenagers, after all.
Prompt: I just want to read Kurt giving Blaine a blowjob for the first time. Also would like it to be a bit awkward for the first time.
-Kurt taking too much at once
-Blaine forgetting to warn Kurt before he comes
-Kurt being surprised when Blaine comes in his mouth
-Kurt spitting the first time
-Blaine apologizing profusely when Kurt runs to the bathroom to spit
-Cuddles afterwards and them realizing they're inexperienced and it's therefore normal for it to be awkward the first time