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More Than What It Seems

Words: 7419 Ship: Klaine Rating: NC-17/R Synopsis: Kurt and Blaine are college dorm mates. Kurt is a party kid, but Blaine is quiet and likes to read. Blaine also likes to stare at Kurt's ass. This is what happens when Kurt finally confronts him about it. And they realize there is a lot more to this than what it seems.

Written for a prompt by Neaf. It's not exactly the prompt because I just...couldn't write the end the way the prompt required. So this is what you get.

Welp.

Kurt Hummel has a really, fabulously, sticky-sheets-inducingly, round, perfect, completely fuckable ass. Blaine Anderson has been his room mate for a year now and more nights than he'd like to admit, he'd wanked himself off in bed or in the bathroom to the thought of said ass, or hell, sometimes the actual thing, as at nights, the rare nights that Kurt is home and alone, he sleeps on his stomach with his legs tucked under him like a kitty with that perfect, round ass up in the air, pressing against the sheets or blankets or sometimes, just underneath boxer briefs. Blaine loves it. He loves the other mans ass. Sometimes, when Kurt gets out of the shower, he walks around in just a towel and drops it to put boxer briefs on and Blaine can't help but look quickly just so see it, the porcelain white of the cheeks and the dark line that ran between them that would eventually lead to...Blaine had to stop thinking about it or he'd be hard for the rest of the night.

Not that he actually has a problem with the man. Kurt is funny, he's charming, but he's so...out there. Kurt goes out more nights than he stays in, and it's not uncommon for Blaine to begetting up for his daily 6am shower and see Kurt traipsing in from the night before Blaine is Kurt's antithesis. He is Kurt's opposite in every way. Kurt was a theatre major, wildly dramatic, dressing in loud colors and wearing his sexuality proudly. Blaine was...not. He was quiet, resigned. He was a literature major, and while he was always well dressed, it was never to the point that his sexuality was on display. Growing up in a family like Blaine's, it had just been better to not be as obvious as Kurt was. However, as demonstrated by his constant admiration and worship to the god that was Kurt Hummel's ass, he was very, very much gay.

One night in April, finals just over the horizon, Kurt was getting ready to go out, and Blaine had done his customary glance at Kurt's ass only to look back from his desk where he was re-reading Anna Karenina and meet a pair of inquisitive glasz eyes. “Blaine?” Kurt asked softly, one eyebrow cocked above the others, not at all ashamed by his nudity.

Blaine gaped, his usual articulation and vocabulary escaping him. “I...Uh...”

“You're off your game tonight.” Kurt said with a smirk, turning around to put on the boxer briefs, and then holy shit he was definitely bending over after he accidentally dropping them and being a total ass and...ass and Blaine was hard in his khakis.

“I'm...um...w-what?” He blinked his wide honey hazel eyes, face a mask of perfect confusion.

“I don't normally turn around in time to catch you...normally I just see you in the mirror.” Kurt shrugged one shoulder and chuckled lightly, a slender, pale finger pointing to the tiny vanity mirror on Kurt's Dresser that Blaine could have sworn he'd checked to see if he could be seen but it dawned on him then that it was at a specific angle and Kurt was three inches taller than him so of course the angle would be different for Kurt and suddenly his cheeks were burning.

“I...I'm...sorry.” He turned around, embarrassed, pretending to take notes on a particularly interesting paragraph of the Tolstoy work he was perusing.

“What on earth are you apologizing for?” Kurt asked, turning around once he'd pulled jeans on. He walked over to Blaine's desk and hopped onto it, his ass—ass, Blaine's mouth watered-- pushing back the papers on the corner he sat on, as his perfect, lithe figure curved so he could look down at Blaine.

“For...staring.” Blaine said, closing the book and using his pen as the bookmark and hurrying away from his desk to the bed, sitting down with his back to Kurt, stomach still churning with embarrassment.

“There's no need to be sorry for something silly like that.” Kurt's countertenor rang through the room and it approached Blaine and Blaine swallowed hard, looking up at the taller man, “I know I have a lovely ass, though I must say that no one has ever paid quite as much attention to it as you do.”

“It's beautiful.” Blaine says softly. He's already in the ten-foot part of the pool, why not swim a few feet to the twelve.

Kurt pauses, a small smile on his lips as he gazes at the darker man, “Do you fantasize about my ass, Blaine?” He settles onto the bed in front of Blaine, forcing the young man to look up at him, “I see you looking at me, watching me, the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips and how you shift in your seat. You don't realize how often you do it, either.” A smirk crosses his lips, “Would you like to get to touch it? Kiss it? Ravish it?”

Ravish it. Kurt was asking him if Blaine wanted to ravish his perfect, wank-worth ass. Blaine's brain short circuited for a moment and he just stared at him, blinking furiously, before opening his mouth to speak, “I--”

Kurt cut him off, “I know the answer to that question.” The glasz eyes narrowed as he glanced around the room, his finger, slim and perfect, tapping against his ever-smooth chin, “Hmm...” A light bulb seemed to go off, because clearly the circuit of Kurt's brain was functioning perfectly, although how, Blaine was quite unsure. “I have a Lit II class this semester.”

Blaine had known that, of course, he'd seen Kurt's book and inquired to which passage he was reading, helping with some of his interpretations. “Yes.” Blaine swallowed, eyes wide and innocent and hungry.

Kurt ran a hand through his still damp hair wandering into the bathroom to grab his mousse and flipping his head to put some in, purposely—Blaine was sure it was on purpose—leaning over with his ass in Blaine's direction. Blaine bit his bottom lip and ignored his cock's twitch, “I suppose, if you can write my final paper for me, I can agree to let you have your way with my ass--” Blaine's heart clenched, it was strictly against his moral values to cheat or do that kind of paper-for-someone else—but fuck Kurt's ass. –“for three nights in a row.”

Blaine let out a whine he wasn't even aware of letting out, “I'll have to...to think about it.” Blaine Anderson did not cheat. He didn't allow people to copy papers, or write papers for people. That wasn't him. He'd been raised better than that. But he'd also been raised to become a business man and to run his father's company and reading Tolstoy was certainly not in that curriculum.

“Well of course. I'm going out tonight anyway.” Kurt shrugged and walked over to his closet, wriggling his ass slightly as he picked out a pale blue button down that he quickly donned, only buttoning it half way before tucking it into his jeans and grabbing a belt that looked like it was bedazzled but if Blaine wasn't mistaken he would swear the gems in it were real. “So...You have tonight to think it over. That curly little head of yours should be able to make a decision by tomorrow morning, right?” Kurt winked as he turned around, purposely leaving his hair a little damp and malleable, it would be a wreck in the matter of an hour anyway, some boy running his hands through it.

Blaine nodded and took a deep breath, “I'll...would you mind leaving your syllabus? Just so I can...see what I might be getting into?”

“Oh you mean other than my ass.” Blaine blushed again, but Kurt just laughed, “Yeah sure.” He dug through his bag and got out the paper, placing it in front of Blaine. “See you tomorrow morning, Blaine.”

The way his name fell off of Kurt's lips sounded like a tease, like a whine, and Blaine decided suddenly that he would compromise any and all morals to get Kurt Hummel on his stomach, naked, that perfect ass and all it's accessories there for him to...what word had Kurt used...ravish. As the door closed, Blaine's hand jumped to his throbbing cock as he began to palm himself through his jeans, falling back on his bed, head hanging half way off. “Fuck morals.” He muttered to himself, and grabbed the syllabus to look at what he had just agreed to write.

“So did you make your decision yet?” Kurt asked, freshly dressed in new jeans and a plain T-shirt, a script in his hand as he sat on his own bed, hair still damp from his shower. It's 3pm and Kurt had just woken up from crashing as soon as he got home from the bar at 5:30. Blaine hadn't even needed his alarm this morning, Kurt was plenty good at waking him up in his drunken state, smelling like sex and cigarettes.

“Yes.” Blaine said softly, looking up. He had a good third of Karenina left to get through, and an analysis to write. But the idea of having Kurt's ass all to himself was so much more desirable than homework.

“Oh...that didn't take long.”

“You said you wanted to know by this morning and now it's afternoon.” Blaine said, drawing his eyebrows together in incredulity.

“Oh I did, didn't I.” Kurt set the script down and wandered over to Blaine's bed, easing the book out of his hand and kneeling between his legs, “Well, Blaine, what was that decision?” He asked, leaning forward so that their lips were mere inches away.

“I'll write the paper.” Blaine said softly, his honey eyes flicking up to Kurt's, licking his lips and tentatively reaching out, his eyes closing as his hands rested on the globes of Kurt's ass. His fingers closed convulsively, kneading the flesh, biting his bottom lip because it felt every bit as tender as it looked. It was muscled but with just enough give that his fingers sank into it. He doesn't kiss Kurt, that wasn't part of the deal, and he knows if he kisses Kurt, it'll just complicate things, so instead he lowers his head and closes his eyes, focusing on how every finger was playing the flesh of Kurt's ass like the high school him had played the piano and the guitar. Kurt let out a soft, fluttery moan and presses his ass back against Blaine's hands but Blaine doesn't budge, flexing his hands over the press.

His hands slip off of Kurt's ass and move around to his pants, flicking the button on his jeans and then slipping them down around his thighs, his fingers skimming the edge of his hip on the way to his ass but then he just stops. This is his prize. He's getting it for writing a paper that he's going to work his ass off on to get Kurt an A without giving it away that it's not Kurt writing it. His hands withdraw.

“Blaine?” Kurt asks softly.

“Pants off, on your bed, face down.” Blaine said softly eyes still closed. He had to keep his own self control in check before he ended up coming in his pants just from the sensation of being so close, and finally being allowed to touch Kurt's exceptional ass. Kurt doesn't question though, simply pulls his jeans up so he can get off the bed, takes them off and folds them at the end of his bed and then lays out on the bed with his hips somewhat propped up by the bending in his knees. He looks like he does when he sleeps, soft, delicate. And so trusting. It was the trust that threw Blaine off. Kurt had never had qualms about leaving things out or sleeping in whatever. It was a given that after living with each other for year there was no danger but Kurt was just so...confident. And it turned Blaine on.

He stood up and walked over to Kurt's bed, kneeling behind him, and just, well fuck, it was his to ravish for the night. He gripped Kurt's ribs and rutted himself against the ass that was splayed there for him. It was only a couple of thrusts, and he reveled in how his cock felt squeezed between the firm globes. Even if it was through cotton and denim and god he could only imagine what it would feel like naked.

He stops, needing to to keep himself in check, and notices only then that Kurt's cock, hard in his boxers, was slightly away from his body by the force of gravity. Blaine tried to ignore it, it wasn't part of his prize. He was here for Kurt's ass. His hand roamed over it again, and he began to press soft, open mouth kisses to it, against the cotton of Kurt's boxers, trailing over it, from the waistband of his boxers, where Blaine's tongue darted against sweet, salty skin, down the arc and to his thigh, where he felt firm muscle still beneath his lips.

“Do you want me to take them off?”

Blaine was shocked by the sound of Kurt's voice, and he was snapped back into the reality that this was real, this was happening, and the voice that had spoken to him..it was low, and hungry and needy and holy fuck it went straight to his cock. “I...uh...” He swallowed the glob of nervousness in his throat, “Yeah, sure. I mean, please.”

Kurt just chuckled and his pale hands snapped back to move them but Blaine stopped him, “L-let me.” And the his hands guided the black boxer briefs down and Blaine's heart skipped a beat. Because then he was face to ass, literally, with the most beautiful ass he had ever seen. All of the round contours were perfect, no flaws against the pearl white of the skin. The shadow between the cheeks was there and in his current position, Kurt was slightly spreaad and Blaine could see his pink hole there, easing Blaine.

Blaine didn't know what to do first. But Kurt's cock, which was just as beautiful as the rest of them, was hard and flushed and gorgeous and Blaine knew Kurt was turned on and as badly as he wanted to get Kurt off he didn't want this to end too soon because he only got three nights. But his lips met soft skin, his tongue tasting it, and his hands nudged between the crack, one guiding Kurt's legs to spread more. Blaine lowered his face, his lips and tongue pressing between the muscled curves and against the spot and then Kurt's back arched and he let out a soft, whining, “Blaine...” and Blaine smiled because that was the reaction he wanted. His tongue delved against his pink hole, the flesh just as sweet there with a musk of pure Kurt. His fingers held him spread as his tongue worked in and out of him Kurt writhing beneath him on the bed. It took everything in him to not grab the lube, and to press his fingers inside, but he had to save something for the next days. Doing it all tonight would make all three nights the same, and Blaine...he wanted to take his time exploring Kurt's body. His fingers, two of them, pressed in slightly, spreading Kurt open wider and delving his tongue deeper. Kurt was moaning constantly now, his hips rocking back against Blaine's mouth, muttering things like 'fuck' and 'deeper' and 'god Blaine'.

And then Kurt's body clenched around his tongue and fingers and with the exception of the stutter of his hips Kurt's body went rigid. Cum pumped against the bed covers and Kurt's legs gave out, collapsing against the bed. Blaine pulled away, gazing almost sadly at the ass that he was going to not be allowed to touch anymore tonight.

Kurt rolled over, blinking lust blown blue eyes and god, Blaine was just overcome with how beautiful he was, and it made Blaine's heart clench and no this wasn't okay. His heart wasn't supposed to clench and want and need him and want to just keep doing the same thing over and over until the only rim job Kurt ever thought about was his. “Top Three.” Kurt said, with a tired wink, yawning, “That was definitely top 3.” He smirked, “Are...you okay?”

Blaine swallowed hard, his cock still straining against his jeans but it was just, not fucking okay for his heart and his head to be in so many different places. This was sex. This was Kurt getting an essay out of him. Kurt didn't actually like him that wasn't possible. He wans't even like Kurt at all. He was nothing like him except for gay. Blaine nodded, perhaps too quickly, and climbed off of the bed, “Yeah, I'm fine, I'm just going to...go get some dinner...” He grabbed his phone and his wallet and his keys and headed for the door.

“With a hard on?” Kurt asked, giving a not subtle glance to Blaine's crotch. “Blaine what's wrong?”

“Nothing.” Blaine answered, slipping out the door.

He didn't go get dinner. He barely even made it out of the building, finding a park bench and dropping down onto it. No. He was not going to feel this way. He was not going to think about how Kurt Hummel had the sweetest skin he'd ever tasted and how drop-dead gorgeous he would look to have come every night and to fall asleep holding him with lust blown eyes and that perfect fucking porcelain skin.

No. He was definitely not allowed to think about it. Or feel it. Because Kurt was his friend. And this was just sex. Just sex....right?

Kurt was in the shower when Blaine got back to the room, and he fell into his bed and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep when he heard Kurt's phone rang, and then the shower shut off. Kurt answered it with a quick, “Hello?” It was silent for a moment, “Oh shut the hell up I was not that loud.” He rolled his eyes, “Really? Really Sam. No. He's just my room mate. I got him to write my literature final. Yes, the room mate with the ass obsession.” Blaine felt his cheeks flare but he pretended to lay with his face in the pillow. “Well of course he's cute.” Kurt scoffed and Blaine heard him sit down on the bed, “Sam, I don't do that kind of relationship shit. You should know this.” Kurt sighed, “Stop. Just...Stop.” Kurt started gigging, “Are you coming out tonight or not? Great. I'll see you in a little while then.”

Kurt got dressed and did his hair and bopped out of the room quickly

He got out just in time for Blaine to finally allow himself to gasp out a sob. It wasn't just his ass for Blaine, but it was very, very clear tht this was just sex for Kurt. Very clear.

Blaine managed to avoid Kurt for the rest of the next day, until about for in the afternoon when the librarians were giving him worried looks and people were wondering how he could possibly type that fast and he was coming up with some of the best analysis he had ever written about Tolstoy, but he realized that he had been at the library since 7am. And it was a Sunday. That was unacceptable in anyone's book. So he packed his bag up and printed his documents and then headed back across campus to the dorms. He'd painted his best smile on his face as he walked into the dorm, unsurprised to see Kurt talking into the mirror, reading from a packet that Blaine knew was his script.

“Busy day?” Kurt asks in between lines, flicking his eyes to Blaine in the mirror.

“Tolstoy analysis.” Blaine said, shrugging, “Takes a while.” “You weren't home when I got back at 7.” Kurt said, turning around.

“Keeping tabs on me now, Kurt?” Blaine teased lightly. He could do this. He could pretend like everything was okay. His eyes roamed over Kurt's ass unashamedly in the mirror, the tight white pants he was wearing leaving little to the imagination and what it did leave Blaine's imagination gratuitously filled in for him.

“Just wondering why you weren't here to stare at my ass like always.” Kurt retorted none to gently, “Anyways, today is day two...” His eyes met Blaine's with a cocky smirk. Blaine's heart clenched. He didn't know if he could do this. It wasn't his taste that he was in love with, it wasn't the sex, it was the look in Kurt's eyes after he'd come, the feel of how perfectly everything about Kurt fit against Blaine. It was the flutter he got in his chest when Kurt smiled at him.

“Didn't get enough last night?” He teased.

“No such thing as enough.” Kurt said, reaching for the button on his jeans before Blaine had even managed to set down his bags. “And besides.” He stepped towards Blaine, “You have such a talented tongue, Blaine. And your love for my ass is so wholehearted. Its touching.” Kurt smirked, “Speaking of, you should get back to touching...and perhaps this time, delve a bit...deeper.” Kurt winked and peeled—literally peeled—the jeans down his legs, and Blaine blinked because there was no underwear there, just pure skin. This time, Kurt lifted his shirt up, and threw it off, and then turned around, bending over as he picked up the jeans, and Blaine had to stifle a moan at the sight of that pert ass and that so-sweet pucker, and the muscles in his thighs and the cock, and the sac that had all been visible last night but not his intention. It would not be so tonight. Tonight he would be ravishing Kurt's ass, that's for sure, but it wouldn't stop there. Tonight, he would try his damnedest to get to that top spot.

Kurt stood back up and Blaine was on him, pressing him against the wall and roughly rocking his own abused and neglected cock into his bare ass, the jeans leaving redness across the pale flesh and Blaine moved to the side, bringing his hand back and then...

whack.

Spanking had never really been a huge thing for him, but to see Kurt's ass red from his jeans, he wanted to see the entire thing red. Kurt let out a cry but it wasn't a bad cry and he turned to look down at the smaller man with glazed eyes, “You live to surpris--” His words were cut off when Blaine's hand collided with the firm flesh of his ass again and he bit into his lip.

Blaine stepped away from him, “Go kneel on the bed, elbows on the headboard.” He ordered, voice gruff with need and desire. He was focused on the ass. He tried not think about Kurt's face or his voice or the phone conversation. He was going to make Kurt scream his name, and this time he wouldn't just be top three.

Kurt complied, spreading his legs. Blaine stepped over to the bathroom, reaching into his drawer and withdrawing a half used bottle of lube. It had been a while since anybody other than his hand had come into contact with Blaine so he didn't need to keep his lube in the night stand like Kurt did. He knelt on the bed behind Kurt, leaning up to nibble at the back of his ear and down his back, leaving a series of small marks between his shoulder blades and down to his tail bone, and by then his fingers were coated with lube and he pressed one against Kurt's entrance and Kurt let out a gasp. Blaine wrapped the other arm around his hips to keep him up. From experience he knew that, if you went slow enough, and his legs weren't spread too much, the pain would be minimal, as always, but he'd be able to find his prostate much more quickly, a straight shot up and curve his finger. But he'd have to get him open enough first. So Blaine worked his finger in, mouthing over Kurt's shoulders his other hand petting at his hip as he worked in up to a knuckle. He didn't remember Kurt being this tight last night but the position had been different and he had been using his tongue, which was more pliable. “Dont bottom often, Hummel?” He murmered into Kurt's ear with a growl.

Kurt let out a breathy laugh and his chest shuddered as he moaned, “Almost...never.” He said, “Shocking I know.”

Blaine, honestly, couldn't have been more pleased to hear that. He, while adoring asses and rimming and the like, quite enjoyed the feeling of being filled to the brim with a cock, but right now was not the time to be thinking about that. Right now he needed to focus on the second finger he was now working into Kurt’s delicious ass. He pressed Kurt so he bent over, and unraveled his arm from around his waist, slipping down so that he was on his stomach, propping himself up on one elbow and craning his neck to flick his tongue against Kurt’s spreading hole. Kurt let out a cry and his forehead fell against the wall and he whimpered and muttered words that weren’t words and Blaine pressed his tongue into him along side the fingers, and Kurt whined, “F-fuck.” Kurt muttered.

Blaine stilled his tongue and moved his fingers again, aiming, and finding the spot successfully on the second try, sending Kurt crying out again. He wanted to see Kurt’s face when he cried out, when he came. He knew he’d regret it in the morning. He knew he’d regret it the second came and the second night of his worship of Kurt’s ass was over. But he wanted to see it, he needed to see it, even if it only meant that tomorrow, after their last night, his heart would break.

He withdrew his fingers and Kurt turned around quickly and blinked, “Blaine?” His breath was heavy in his throat.

“Lay on your back.” Blaine ordered, gazing at the mans gorgeous ass, the red handprint from just a few moments ago vibrant against his skin, like the contrast between glazed and unglazed pottery.

Kurt shrugged and obeyed, laying back with his head on pillows so he could see Blaine, Blaine laid on his stomach, calves and ankles dangling off the bed as his head rested between Kurt’s legs. He paid almost no attention to anything other than his ass, his fingers ghosting over his erection, which was probably one of the most beautiful cock’s he’d ever seen, and then rolled his balls between his fingers while pressing his tongue against his hole again, lifting his legs and pressing them around his neck, sitting up slightly to get better leverage. The fingers on his balls slid down, and after Kurt let out a cry from that pleasure, Blaine pressed them back in.

Kurt’s eyes were burning and Blaine pulled his tongue away so he could watch Kurt, whose glasz eyes were screwed shut and his teeth, perfect and straight and white were biting down into a coral-pink lip and he let out little sounds from his throat as Blaine worked in a third lubed finger, and then his eyes shot open when Blaine’s tongue pressed flat against the underside of Kurt’s cock. His mouth dropped open and he locked his eyes on Blaine.

The eye contact intensified everything. Every new thrust of Blaine’s fingers resonated in another expression across Kurt’s face and when Blaine’s tongue slid across his cock Kurt moaned and when he hit his prostate, Kurt let out a tiny ‘oh my god’. The one time Blaine managed to synchronize the swipe of his tongue with the drag across his prostate, Kurt was coming hard against his own stomach, head tipping back, eyes rolling back, and his body falling limp against the bed. Blaine closed his eyes because the image of the pure, unadulterated beauty that was Kurt Hummel when he came washed over him again, and his heart gave that little ache it gave. He withdrew his fingers and wiped them on Kurt’s thigh, pushing up and sitting on his knees as he waited for Kurt to come back to himself.

“So talented fingers and a talented tongue.” Kurt didn’t open his eyes, “There’s so much I don’t know about you. I thought you were just a little…literature student.”

“I play guitar and piano, and sing.” Blaine said quickly, not sure why he had admitted that. He stopped singing and playing guitar and piano after high school, because he had to focus on school and he had been convinced he was never going to make it in music. He had stopped because it hurt so bad.

“I didn’t know that.”

Blaine climbed off the bed and grabbed his bag, “Nobody does.” He said, looking for his phone.

“Why are you running off.”

“This is just sex.” Blaine said, nonchalantly, “I have…things to do.” He lied. And he left the room and he hurried down the halls of the dorms because this time, he didn’t want to come back later and hear Kurt talk to Sam and say how it was just sex and he wanted someone to hold him and tell him it was going to be okay. He opened the door and saw Thad singing furiously into a microphone.

The man stopped and blinked and stared at Blaine, “This is embarrassing.”

Blaine shook his head and barreled towards Thad and hid against his chest. His old friend, the other ex warbler, lowered his arms around Blaine.

“Blaine this isn’t like you.” Thad said softly, “What’s wrong.”

“Thad I think…I think it’s more than his ass.” Blaine said softly.

Thad laughed, “You just now figured this out, Blaine, Jesus you’re so obvious. It’s always been more than his ass.”

“It’s just sex for him.”

“You’re fucking him?”

“No…Just….I get to worship his ass. For three nights. Tonight was night two.” He suddenly wished he had had the foresight to stop and brush his teeth, almost grossed out for Thad except he knew Thad had done the same if not worse.

“Worship his ass…?”

“I’m writing a paper for him.”

Thad nodded, “Well, I mean, Blaine, how do you know it’s just sex. Last time I’d heard you were one of the best fucks on campus when you got around to it. Maybe it is sex, but maybe he can grow to like you.”

“He’s so…Thad it would never work.”

“You can’t know that until you try.” Thad said, kissing the top of Blaine’s curls. “Come on, I have the new Lion King on BlueRay, we can sing along.”

Blaine smiled at him.

Kurt Hummel was widely known as one of the most down to fuck guys on campus when it came to the gay circles. He was well known, with a good reputation, however he was also one of the most dedicated theatre students there was. He’d been practicing for this play, the one he was auditioning for today, in every waking moment that he wasn’t flirting with Blaine, or going out. He knew the lines, He knew what he was going to do for the audition, and he was ready. He knew he could do this. But…strangely enough, he had been thrown off on Sunday night when Blaine hadn’t come back to the room, tempted to text him, but not wanting to seem like…a boyfriend, He was busy, and busy fucking people, the last thing he needed was to be tied down by a…beautiful brunette with honey eyes and a wicked tongue and some very talented fingers.

He couldn’t think about that now. He’d auditioned just minutes ago, and was trying to gather his thoughts and watch the other auditions. The other actors were good. He needed this callback. He really really did. He was a confident person, but he was confident in his ability to act and his ability to have sex and his ass. Other than that he was a highly self conscious person, born of years of bullying. He liked Blaine being his room mate because Blaine had never judged him or questioned him. He had affection for the brunette.

He looked down, staring at his fingers, and waited. Ten minutes passed, another audition. Thirty minutes, another three. At the end of the hour; why had he chosen to go first?! They were asked to leave the room so the judges could deliberate. Kurt had to get this callback. He had to.

“Alright we’ve made our decisions.” They’d appeared in the hallway and Kurt looked up,”We’ve decided to call back Felix Brown and Caleb Harkness. You two will be competing for the role and understudy. The rest of you that auditioned, thank you for your time, you all did brilliantly. We encourage you to try out again.”

There were definitely not tears in Kurt’s eyes as he stared up at them. He waited for everyone to file away, and then walked up to the Drama professor, one of the directors, “Mr. Leidy?”

“Kurt.” The professor smiled brightly, “Your audition was brilliant.”

“I…I don’t understand why…what I did wrong.”

Mr. Leidy sighed, “Honestly Kurt, you’re just….not right for the part. It’s a very masculine role…and we decided that while talented, there were better roles for you to fill.”

“…I…” Kurt knew they were right. It was the stigma that had been with him forever. He was just…not masculine enough, “Thank you, sir.” He headed away.

He was just…hurt, and his confidence was shattered and it was taking everything in him not to cry, at least until he got back to the dorm and he was glad that Blaine still had class for another hour. It would give him time to calm down.

He was reading a magazine when Blaine walked in. The tears had subsided, though the self hate that had been his undoing since years of bullying in high school was still right at the surface, just below his façade of calm. Blaine frowned at him. “Where’s your script?”

“Auditions were today.”

“How’d it go?” Blaine wasn’t as optimistic as he usually was, and he was reserved.

Kurt shrugged, “Where were you last night?” They needed to change the subject now.

“I stayed with a friend.” Blaine shrugged and dropped his backpack to the ground, opening it and finding his planner.

“It’s day three.”

Blaine turned around, eyes somewhere between hurt and hope and hunger. “I know.” He said softly.

Kurt sat up, and dropped the magazine to his nightstand, trying for his usual cocky smile but it wasn’t there.

Blaine noticed instantly, his eyebrows pulling together, “Kurt…what’s…what’s wrong?”

Kurt wanted to scream because he just wanted to hide it and let Blaine make him forget what had happened this afternoon but then he couldn’t because it came back and the memories of his high school years and the bullying and hating himself for not being like Blaine or his friend Sam. He hated that he was too feminine to even be able to act straight. “I…I’m fine.”

“No, Kurt.” Blaine said softly, “No you’re not.” He dropped onto the bed.

“It’s the third night, Blaine.” Kurt knew his voice sounded like the tears that threatened, “Don’t you just want to—”

“No, I don’t just want to.” Blaine touched Kurt’s face, “What’s wrong. You can tell me. You can trust me.”

And that was when it happened. That was when Kurt realized he had been so so stupid to not see what was staring at him. Because every time he slept with someone, there was something missing. It was the reason he always either topped or rode them. Because he didn’t trust very many people. The years in high school had trained him not to, had trained him to be careful about who he was around. Who he trusted. And yet here he was, staring into the eyes of a young man who he trusted so much. He trusted Blaine to the point where he slept soundly when he was around. He had handed his body over to Blaine without fear, because he knew Blaine wouldn’t hurt him. He stared at Blaine and realized that everything he’d needed was right in front of him, but it had taken being broken to see it again.

He let out a shuddery breath and tears welled in his eyes, “I was bullied in high school.” He admitted softly, “And they didn’t let it stop at the fact that I was gay.” Kurt’s lip quivered and Blaine scooted closer, stroking his cheekbone, “They attacked my masculinity, or lack thereof.” The tears spilled down Kurt’s cheeks, “And today, I didn’t get the part in the play because I wasn’t masculine enough.” He closed his eyes and tears, streams of clear saline slipped down his face, and he caught a teardrop in on his lips. “And I just…it hurts…It hurts and I…Pain is such a strange feeling because I always—”

“Why did you listen to them?” Blaine cut him off. “You’re…you’re not, you’re perfect.” The word fell off of Blaine’s tongue, “You’re perfect. Don’t let them get to you. Your confidence, Kurt, you don’t have to hide behind false confidence. You can just…be confident.” He ran a hand through Kurt’s hair, “Because you’re perfect.”

Kurt’s mouth dropped open, and he licked his lips, “Blaine I thought….I thought it was just my ass…you…you really…” Blaine nodded, “You’re not just an ass…I just..” He turned away, “I’m nothing special…and you’re…so amazing.”

“What did you just say?” Kurt asked with a laugh, “Did you just…” He shook his head, “Okay, this is how this is going to happen. You don’t get to say things like ‘you’re perfect’ and then say you’re nothing special.”

Blaine shrugged.

“Look at me.”

Blaine did and when he did Kurt crashed their lips together, hand running into Blaine’s curls roughly, reveling in the feeling of the soft hair against his fingers. His hands ran over Blaine’s body, realizing that he’d never even seen the other man shirtless despite the fact that they’d lived together for a year. But god the muscles under his skin felt so amazing, firm and lithe and it dawned on him how much smaller Blaine was than him, and he just…he wanted to give the man everything suddenly and he kissed him for all it was worth, and pressed him back until he was propped between his legs.

“I..wait.” Blaine broke the kiss, “I thought…I thought this was my third night.”

“No.” Kurt said, nipping at his neck, and unbuttoning the collar on the polo before hefting it up over his head, “You can have as many nights as you want but tonight I’m going to worship you.”

Blaine, besides losing much of the blood in his brain to his cock, was okay with this. He knew that things between him and Kurt had changed and now, Kurt needed this. He needed to dominate and feel like he was strong and confident again like Blaine was trying to convince him, and Blaine was more than happy to participate.

Lips met again in a clash as Kurt’s hand ran through the curls on Blaine’s chest, murmering against his lips about how hot it was that he wasn’t all clean shaven like a lot of the gay guys, and tweaking a nipple that made Blaine’s hips buck up into Kurt’s, crashing clumsily into them as he kissed him and moaned against his lips. Kurt rolled his hips down more skillfully, their denim clad cocks running against each other, and Blaine let out a strangled cry that Kurt swallowed down. He moved his hands to Blaine’s pants and unbuttoned them, swift, slim pale fingers making quick work of the hindrance.

Blaine lifted his hips to help him get them off, and when they were, he whimpered as Kurt worked his way down his body. It had been so long since this had happened, since he had been touched and Kurt’s lips didn’t seem to be skipping any parts of him as he made his way down his body.

“K-Kurt…” Blaine said, “D-don’t.” Words were not flowing, “Just fuck me.” He said, hazel eyes hungry and horny and needy, “You can be sweet some other time.” Blaine grinned, eyes sparkling.

Kurt grinned too, meeting Blaine’s eyes. He had been teasing him for the last two days. It dawned on him that Blaine had fucking…just touched his ass and made him come, for the last two days, and he hadn’t even laid a hand on the boy.

So Kurt didn’t touch Blaine’s cock, which throbbed against his hip where they were together, and he took Blaine’s lips, kissing him fiercely, pushing his tongue in and allowing it to duel with the brunettes. Something about the way his tongue flicked was making Kurt come undone. His fucking fingers and his fucking tongue were perfect but right now all he wanted was exactly what Blaine wanted which was for him to be buried inside him.

He took his own shirt off, and Blaine reached over to the night stand to dig out a condom and the bottle of lube and he splayed it on the bed, the smaller of the two clearly less innocent than he seemed. Slipped his boxer’s down when Kurt got up to take his pants off and then…Kurt stared for a minute because holy shit was Blaine fingering himself? He quickly got rid of his pants and climbed back onto the bed, moving Blaine’s hand, lubing his own fingers and taking over, and he could have sworn he heard Blaine purr. His eyes were on Kurts, dark and burning with desire as Kurt worked a finger into him. Blaine’s legs fell apart, more flexible than Kurt had given him credit for, and his ass seemed to have been made for this because it adapted so quickly to Kurt’s finger. It was either that or his pain tolerance was beyond amazing. Blaine licked his lips, and thrust down against the digit, and Kurt groaned.

Kurt was good at sex, he was good at making his partner feel good, but from what he had seen about Blaine, the boy was equally as good if not better at the art form. Kurt added the second finger and then Blaine let out a hiss and rolled his eyes.

“Something wrong?” Kurt asked, trying to keep a smirk off of his face.

“It’s been a while.” Blaine grunted, eyes blinking open and closed as his body adjusted more slowly to the second finger. He was tight and hot around Kurt’s fingers, and Kurt couldn’t help but think about how long it had been since he had been with someone who actually enjoyed bottoming, somebody who didn’t just bottom because Kurt refused to.

Somebody he had trusted.

Somebody he had cried in front of.

Someone he…

He stopped. Because it had never happened. Until Blaine. Blaine was the first. And as he crooked the fingers inside Blaine and dragged them across the bundle of nerves, Blaine’s back arched and he rocked down onto Kurt’s fingers and he moaned Kurt’s name and his head fell back and Kurt was struck with a sense of how beautiful Blaine was.

It wasn’t long before the third finger was working inside him, and then Kurt slid the condom on, and was lubing himself with one hand. Then Blaine was empty and the man whined at the emptiness and then Kurt was on his knees between his legs and he was slipping into Blaine and…

It was just right. They way they fit together, Blaine’s hands reached down to grip at Kurt’s perfect ass, and Kurt pressed himself into Blaine as far as he could and they held each others gaze and they realized what had been missing.

It wasn’t just Kurt’s ass.

And Kurt just trusted Blaine.

It had taken them a year.

But now they had the rest of their lives to spend worshipping each others body. After hours of orgasms and resting and orgasms, Kurt fell into bed with Blaine wrapped in his arms. “You know.” He whispered, “You have a pretty amazing ass too.”

Blaine smirked, eyes tired, “Copycat.” He murmered.

#Kurt Hummel #Blaine Anderson #Klaine #Fic #NC-1 #Fanfiction #Klaine Fanfiction #putmedownpunk