DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee, Fox does. And Ryan Murphy. Title from "Prostitution Is The World's Oldest Profession (And I, Dear Madame, Am A Professional)" by Cobra Starship.
Warnings are: use of toys. That's about it. Originally posted to Tumblr.



"It looked…smaller online."

"…Pretty sure there was only one head, too."

"Wow. Um." Blaine lifts it out of the box, hefting the weight in his hands. Kurt flushes when he sees it in Blaine's hands and busies himself with checking the mailing information instead. And…yes, the wrong one was sent to him. Of course it was sent to him because ordering it in the first place hadn't been awkward enough.

"You know," Blaine says behind him, his voice intrigued, "I think we could make this work."

Kurt turns around, eyebrow raised as he drops the mailing receipt back into the box with a sigh. There's no way he's going through the hassle of returning it, especially after he went through the hassle of surreptitiously buying it and intercepting the mail in the first place. He still remembers how he couldn't look the UPS guy in the face when he'd been handed the package; he knew the guy had known thanks to the "Better Sex" logo on the front above his name and address, and to make things worse the guy had actually been young and kind of cute and now he probably thinks Kurt is weird and god, his life sucks sometimes. "Make it work?"

"Yeah!" Blaine says brightly, running his fingers along the (realistic, wow) head, dipping under the ridge and along the folds of silicone skin beneath. "It's a double-sided dildo, right? Well, I know we've both mentioned how much we'd love to be fucked at the same time without the intrusion of a third partner."

Kurt flushes even darker, sweat flooding his armpits as he shifts on his feet. He can't deny that his heart is pounding a little faster now, that, yes, they've discussed this in detail before one night when they'd both wanted to bottom and had ended up just blowing each other instead—and Kurt really, really appreciates the sixty-nine they'd tried that night with his fingers in Blaine's asshole and Blaine's fingers in his.

But Blaine's right: they both have been wanting more for awhile now that sex isn't quite as scary and daunting as it was their first time.

Still, Kurt huffs. "The vibrator was better," he says petulantly, eyeing up the dildo in Blaine's hands. It's huge, and while he (mostly) knows his limits now and knows that this dildo is well within them, it's still a little intimidating.

"Just imagine, though," Blaine insists, putting the dildo back in the box and stepping closer to Kurt, his eyes slowly darkening and widening, the look on his face one of intense concentration intermingled with building arousal and need. "One side in you, the other in me, on our hands and knees while we push against each other." He cups Kurt's cheek, moves closer until he has to tilt his head, their lips almost brushing. Kurt's eyes begin to close, blurring the outline of Blaine's face; when Blaine speaks his lips brush against Kurt's, his breath hot against Kurt's already-heated skin.

"I bet you'd moan louder than you ever have." It comes out dark and sultry, rough and raspy at the edges. Blaine lifts his other hand to run it through Kurt's hair, gripping tightly in the back. The strands pull at Kurt's scalp and he gasps, moans, unconsciously seeking forward for friction. "You'll set the pace, I bet. You'll keep pushing your ass against mine, the dildo sinking deeper and deeper into you until you come."

"God, Blaine," Kurt whispers, grabbing the front of Blaine's shirt as he kisses him properly. They both stumble with the force, Blaine making a surprised noise against Kurt's lips before he's kissing back just as hard, his hands tight on Kurt's waist. "Let's try it."

Blaine pulls away, separating their mouths with a wet smack. His hair is wild from Kurt's fingers, eyes sparkling and dark, lips wet and red and lush. He looks so gorgeous that Kurt is nearly overcome with the rush of just taking him now, forgetting about the dildo in favor of sinking deep into his boyfriend. "You want to?"

Kurt half-smiles and takes a deep breath to calm his nerves, the fluttering of his heart. His skin is tingling, his entire body thrumming with the urge to get off, to touch and mark and feel. "'Want' is putting it mildly," Kurt replies, undoing the buttons on his shirt as quickly as he can. It's not until it drops to the floor that Blaine snaps his jaw shut and hurries to pull his own shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor before undoing his belt and jeans, leaving them both to hang loose on his hips.

When Kurt gets his jeans down and off Blaine's already on the bed, lube out on Kurt's nightstand and the dildo on the covers next to him. He's still got his briefs on and even though they're black Kurt can see the bulge and stretch of his cock against the material, the waistband doing little to conceal it. He swallows, wets his lips, and climbs onto the bed.

Blaine immediately pulls him down, spreading his legs so Kurt can rest comfortably between them. "You should be an underwear model," Blaine breathes between kisses, his tongue flicking out to lick along Kurt's lower lip.

"Oh my god you did not," Kurt says, voice brimming with mirth. "You just said that, oh my god. You're hopeless, Blaine. Completely and utterly hopeless."

Blaine pouts, running his hand down Kurt's shoulder, along the dip in his back to the swell of his ass, the material of his gray boxer-briefs clinging tightly to his skin. He squeezes and Kurt gasps, pushes down to rub their cocks together. "I only speak the truth," Blaine says, cupping the back of Kurt's thigh.

Kurt scoffs, nosing his way down Blaine's neck to nip and suck at the skin in the hollow of his throat. "I'll save the underwear-viewing for you," he says, dragging his tongue down the center of Blaine's chest, then over to circle a nipple. Blaine moans and arches up, tangles his fingers on Kurt's hair. Kurt pulls back, blows on the nub to feel Blaine shiver, and does the same to the other one.

He looks up when he begins to trail his tongue lower, feeling the muscles of Blaine's stomach flex and contract under his touch. Blaine's lips are parted as he watches and Kurt can't help but flutter his lashes, dipping his tongue into Blaine's navel before stopping right at the waistband of his briefs.

He moves a little further down the bed, flattening his body, and mouths over the hard line of Blaine's cock. Blaine arches up and groans, tipping his head back. He spreads his legs wider, feet flat on the bed as Kurt curls his hands around Blaine's thighs. Kurt trails his hand down Blaine's torso, past hard, peaked nipples, the drying line of his saliva, and sucks hard on the head of Blaine's cock through his briefs when he reaches between Blaine's legs to cup over his balls, drawing the waistband up before letting it snap back down against his skin.

"Fuck, baby," Blaine whines, petting along the back of Kurt's head, trailing lower until he gets to the nape of his neck. He rests his palm broad and flat over it, just a weight as Kurt slowly moves his head back and forth, tongue trailing over Blaine's cock as he goes. "I'm gonna come if you don't stop."

With one final suck to the head of Blaine's cock Kurt pulls back and sits up, his own cock twitching and aching between his legs. "Mm, we can't have that," Kurt teases, his voice dipped low. He reaches for the lube on his nightstand, dropping it between them on the bed. Blaine raises an eyebrow but gets the hint when Kurt sits up on his knees to slide his underwear down, lifting up a leg at a time to slide them fully off. Blaine's quick to sit up and work on his own underwear.

"So hot," Kurt murmurs when Blaine's briefs hit the floor, his cock bobbing hard and red between his legs. He watches Blaine's throat work as he swallows, watches the twitch of his cock and the clear bead of pre-come that gathers in the slit before dripping off.

Blaine says nothing before he moves, just lets his eyes lock on Kurt's before he closes the distance between them and kisses Kurt again, tongue licking along the backs of Kurt's teeth as he presses close, their cocks rubbing slickly together, pressed tight between them. Moans are lost in mouths as Blaine slides one of the hands he's placed on Kurt's waist back to his ass, squeezing when he tilts his head and changes angles.

"Do you want me to finger you first," Blaine asks breathlessly between kisses, "or for you to finger me?"

"I want us to do it at the same time," Kurt says, nipping at the hinge of Blaine's jaw. "I want to watch you."

His answer is a groan, one last slide of their lips together before they're pulling away. Blaine hands him the bottle of lube wordlessly, his hand trembling slightly, and lets Kurt pump some onto his fingers before taking it back. Their eyes never waver from each other's faces as Blaine takes the lube and leans back against the headboard. He spreads his legs and Kurt follows, overlapping their calves.

Kurt's almost surprised that he doesn't feel self-conscious like this, spread out as he warms the lube between his fingers. Blaine does the same, lower lip caught between his teeth as he teases at the head of his cock with his other hand. It should make him hot in a way that has nothing to do with arousal. He should be a little more reluctant to say yes.

But he's not, and he doesn't regret any of it, especially when he pushes the first finger in with a groan. Even with his eyes closed and head tipped slightly back he can feel Blaine's gaze on him, knows without looking that Blaine's watching his hand, the heaving of his chest as he takes rapid, shallow breaths.

Like this, though, he thinks he knows why he likes it, why it doesn't make his heart pound in anything other than arousal: he feels wanted. After years and years of being shoved away, told that he'd never be happy, he is. He feels beautiful, almost untouchable when he's like this with Blaine, when their barriers are down and everything is just skin and them at their most vulnerable.

It's what allows him to let out a loud moan and work his hips down onto his finger with no shame, nothing other than twisting pleasure flaring up. He can tell when Blaine slides his first finger in: his breath hitches, going up at the end in a whine, and the bed creaks as he spreads his legs a fraction of an inch wider, thighs flexing and taut when he pushes up.

Kurt lifts his head when he slides his middle finger in, gasping out a breath as his body accommodates the stretch. Blaine's watching him through half-lidded eyes, jaw dropped as he pumps his finger in-out. Usually now Kurt would be kissing him, their mouths sliding slick-dirty together as he gets in two, three fingers before Blaine's finally begging for more.

Blaine's two-deep now, his back arching as he twists his fingers, curling them upward. He always looks the best like this, Kurt thinks as he teases over the head of his cock. He's not ashamed to admit how much he needs something, a trait Kurt wishes he was half as good at. He's still slightly closed off, a little more hesitant to beg than Blaine is, but it showcases their respective personalities, Blaine's openness and Kurt's reluctance.

"Oh, fuck," Kurt gasps when he finally twists his fingers just right, pleasure jolting throughout his body. His hips fuck forward, muscles straining as he rubs against his prostate a few times in quick succession before backing off.

He can hear the slick squelch of lube just under their harsh panting and Blaine's frequent grunts; he can't help but watch Blaine's fingers disappear into his body, can't help but admire the way his cock will jerk against his abdomen occasionally, the sweat beginning to shine on Blaine's chest as he looks down, forehead creased, then back up, a low moan working its way past his lips.

He reaches for the lube Blaine left between them, sliding his fingers halfway out to pour a little more. He crosses his middle finger over his index and ring fingers and slides in slowly to the last knuckle. "Oh," he pants, crooking his fingers and twisting his wrist, feeling the muscle and skin yield around him. He can space his fingers a little bit now, stretching slightly, and his toes curl into the sheets when he does.

"Please tell me you're ready," Blaine says when he has three fingers in as well, wrist twisted awkwardly as he fucks down once, twice.

"So ready. Shit—give me the toy." Blaine reaches over for the dildo, wordlessly handing it to Kurt, and Kurt hurriedly slicks it up, think as he works his fist over it how it's going to feel, what it's going to be like. For his first time using toys this certainly hadn't been what he'd expected.

Kurt ends up facing the door when he and Blaine get on their knees, asses pushed outward and their hands wrapped around their respective ends of the dildo. He blindly lines the head up and keeps his eyes on the door as he slowly pushes it in.

It hurts. It hurts and burns and Kurt's gritting his teeth and trying to force himself to relax, to remember that his first time with Blaine hadn't been easy and amazing at first, either. But it's so much, more than Blaine, more than he's ever envisioned taking, and when he finally hits his hand he exhales slowly, letting his muscles relax. The weight is heavy and cool inside him, warmed only by his own body heat, and when he twists his body to look back Blaine's just dropping his hand, the space between them now less than an inch.

"Jesus," Blaine breathes, his voice strained and pinched. He shifts, spacing his legs wider and tilting his body down and the movement jars the toy inside Kurt, shifting it out then in, and his breath catches, warmth ebbing like the tide with every movement that they make.

"We should move," he says after a few moments, dropping his head to look at the sheets. He's really doing this. This is happening. There's a dildo in his ass and in his boyfriend's ass and, really, it's a lot less weird than he thought it'd be.

Blaine gives him no warning when he pushes back, just moves and lets the soft slap of their skin together jar Kurt out of his thoughts. The warmth returns, with it the zigzagging sparks of pleasure as the toy shifts again and pushes deeper.

"Blaine, oh god." Kurt squeezes his eyes shut, pushes back when Blaine slides forward and is rewarded with Blaine's long, low groan.

It isn't quite the same as being fucked, and it takes them a few fumbling minutes to find a steady rhythm, but soon Kurt finds himself unable to stop moving, to stop making noise as he gives in and works himself blindly back on every counter-push of Blaine's. His cock is hard and heavy between his legs, aching, but Kurt can't bring himself to move a hand back, not when the dildo shifts and slides just right and he's left moaning high and long, his torso arching toward the bed as he fucks back hard.

He finds himself reaching back with his left hand, almost unaware that he's doing it, and then Blaine's hand is on his, linking their fingers together, and Kurt gasps, swallows and pushes back when Blaine does, their skin slapping together, wetter this time with sweat. His skin is hot, flushed, and each push of their bodies draws out an uh or an ah that's echoed by Blaine's own noises, his desperate exclamations mixed with Kurt's name and his reedy, wanton vocalizations.

"Oh, god." Heat coils and twists, unrelenting, and it only takes a few more thrusts before Kurt's arching and jerking, his cock pulsing as he begins to come. Blaine's still moving behind him, his thrusts jerky and sporadic, and Kurt can feel the tremors, the shaking as he undoubtedly has a hand under himself, fist wrapped around his cock.

Kurt twists to grab onto the dildo, keeping it steady as he slides slowly off, hissing as the head slips free of his body. Blaine thrusts back with a grunt and Kurt stares, momentarily stunned by the view of the dildo sinking into Blaine's hole, the way the skin is stretched tight and red, how fucking good Blaine looks like this.

"Kurt, baby, please, oh, god please," Blaine gasps, fists clenching into the sheets as he pushes his chest down and his ass up, working himself onto the dildo. "I need—I need you, oh."

"Shh, I've got you," Kurt soothes, pressing a hand to Blaine's lumbar region. "I'm just—I'm gonna take this out, okay? I promise I'll take care of you in a minute."

He slides the dildo out slowly and carefully, marveling at the clench and drag of Blaine's skin as it goes. When the toy is finally all the way out Kurt's left with Blaine's hole, stretched and loose and oh god he's never seen Blaine like this, so open and inviting, even after fucking him so hard into the mattress he'd screamed and clawed at the bedding.

"On your back," he manages, tapping Blaine's thigh, and Blaine immediately complies and turns over, sprawling out and spreading his legs. His eyes are wide and dark when he looks at Kurt and Kurt's immediately leaning down, kissing Blaine hard and hungry as he easily slips three fingers into Blaine's hole, crooking them upwards until Blaine's jerking up against him, gasping and moaning as he arches, arches, and finally snaps, lets go and comes between them with a half-wail. He clenches around Kurt's fingers, cock jerking against his abdomen, and Kurt sits back, drawing his lips into his mouth as the last bit of come dribbles from the head of Blaine's cock onto his stomach.

"Okay." Kurt says it slowly, drawing out the word. "So this idea was…brilliant."

Blaine grins. "Perfect."


"So you're keeping it?" Blaine props himself up on his elbows and looks at the discarded dildo next to his thigh. Kurt scrunches up his nose at the thought of it sitting on the sheets but lets it go for now, grinning instead.

"Next time it'll be face-to-face," he says. He's already imagining it, playing the events out in his head, and next time needs to be now, though with the way his ass twinges when he moves there won't be a next time for awhile.

"God, I love you." Blaine's voice is awed, touched at the edges with tiredness.

"And I love you." Kurt leans down to peck a quick kiss to Blaine's lips before springing up, hopping off the bed to head towards the bathroom for a washcloth. Maybe getting the wrong toy wasn't as bad as he'd made it out to be. This could work.

And, well, it already has.