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Entry tags:
When I Think About You (3.05 Reaction Fic)
Title: When I Think About You
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: urt/Blaine
Spoilers: 3.05 (The First Time)
Word Count: 1,923
Warnings: Sexual desire, references to masturbation, language, two hot boys making out (actually, the last one is a promise, not a warning)
Disclaimer: own nothing. Title from that dirty, dirty song by the Divinyls, "I Touch Myself".
Summary: Thinking about your boyfriend while masturbating is sexy, but telling him about it is sexier. Pure, unadulterated fluff. Canon compliant. [Note adde - This was written as a one-shot, but then it kind of grew in my head and I wrote a follow-up that happens later the same evening, How Strange the Change. This works as a standalone, but if you read and comment on both, I will bake you a plate of delicious, satisfying, calorie-free virtual chocolate-chip cookies.]
Author's Note: After recovering from Glee on Tuesday night, I realized that Blaine's "that's why they invented masturbation" line was the first time on network TV I had heard masturbation mentioned as something good and not to be ashamed of. Which may be even more groundbreaking than the other parts of the episode. I also wondered how the entire conversation didn't immediately devolve into sexy sexy talk, and I concluded it was because, duh, this was network TV and they were leaving it to the fanfic writers to come up with that.
Anyway, when![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
anxioussquirrel told me yesterday that s/he thought of me when s/he heard that line, I knew the muses were telling me something. [Note from anxioussquirrel: "Just for the record: I didn't think about you in a dirty way ;) And yes, I'm a girl-squirrel ;)"] This morning I woke up too early and lay in bed hoping to fall back asleep, but instead my mind turned toward Glee and I got up and wrote this. Unbeta'd - as always, comments are welcome. And if you notice any unintentional grammatical or typographical errors, please point them out.
------------------------
hen I Think About You
Kurt realizes his boyfriend is saying something, and that Kurt should probably be listening. Because Kurt loves Blaine as a person, and what Blaine thinks and says is important to Kurt.
But it's kind of hard to comprehend the English language when Blaine has that ecstatic look on his face and is dancing around his room in those pants.
Actually, any pants – or even better, lack of pants – would probably do it for Kurt. These ones just happen to be the ones that Blaine is wearing right now as he sways his hips at Kurt's eye level. Five feet away, maybe, but still at eye level. And yeah, Kurt's the one that sprawled stomach first on Blaine's bed so that Blaine's hips would be at eye level but, still, this is so unfair.
"Do you think I'm boring?" Kurt spits it out more than says it.
"Are you crazy?" Blaine laughs with his whole face, his eyebrows – fuck, those ridiculous, hot, caterpillar eyebrows – arch and his lips curl and Blaine just keeps on dancing. "You're the single most interesting kid in all of Ohio."
Yeah, Kurt really needs to not have his eyes level with Blaine's hips if he's going to be able to speak coherently. He sits up on the bed and crosses his legs to camouflage his rip-roaring hard-on. "I mean, like, sexually. I mean, we are playing it awfully safe by not granting our hands visas to travel south of the equator."
"I thought that's what we wanted."
"It is," Kurt says. WantED. Past tense. Get it? "I'm just wondering – do you ever have the urge to just rip off each other's clothes and get dirty?" Like, right now? Because right now would be good. Maybe you could continue that dance in my lap.
"Ah, yeah. But that's why they invented masturbation."
And fuck, the image that seizes Kurt's mind – the image of Blaine lying back on this bed, clothesless, the ecstasy on his face ten notches higher than when he's dancing to Roxy Music, his hands traveling freely south of the equator – is entirely unwelcome and entirely awesome. "It's a little hot in this room," Kurt says. "Could we open a window?"
"Hey, I'm serious," Blaine says, as if Kurt wasn't. But he stops dancing and crawls across the bed – hot – to kneel next to Kurt. "We're young, we're in high school, yeah, we have urges, but whatever we do, I want to make sure you're comfortable. So I can be comfortable." Blaine strokes Kurt's back and it's so brief and so chaste, but it still sends a shock of electricity down Kurt's spine. Kurt used to spend a lot of time wondering whether the electricity he felt around Blaine was love or lust – but lately he's come to the conclusion that, with Blaine, they're the same thing.
"And besides," Blaine says, "tearing off all your clothes is sort of a tall order."
"Because of the layers?"
"Because of the layers." Blaine leans in and gives Kurt a quick but enthusiastic peck on the lips. It's comfortable and it's nice and it's confusing to Kurt how this is perfect, and yet not enough.
"So," Kurt says, lowering his lashes and dragging his index finger across the comforter. "What do you think about when you – " Kurt swallows hard and can feel the red flushing up from his collarbone to his cheeks. He makes himself look up at Blaine. "Masturbate?" The word comes out of him hoarse and breathy, and the way that Blaine smiles and his ears burn pink, Kurt knows it was either extremely sexy or extremely unexpected. Kurt hopes it was a little of both.
"Um," Blaine darts his eyes to the side, then back at Kurt. "You."
Kurt wraps his hand around Blaine's. "What about me?"
"Everything."
Kurt arches one eyebrow. "Everything?"
"Everything I know about you. The rest is kind of – hazy."
"And what do you know about me?"
"Your face." Blaine traces the fingers of his free hand along Kurt's jaw. "Mostly your face. You can do like, a million things to me with those eyebrows."
Kurt feels his brows involuntarily shift into even more of a question mark and he sees the slight tension around Blaine's mouth melt away. Blaine leans in to kiss Kurt again and this time it's a little less innocent. Blaine sucks lightly on Kurt's lower lip and Kurt's pretty sure Blaine wants to do more. But Kurt puts his hand to Blaine's chest and nudges them gently apart.
"I like that," Kurt says. "But I also like where this conversation is going." Blaine looks a little flustered, but his smile is much bigger than when he was dancing. The song blessedly ends and the room falls quiet. "Tell me what else."
Blaine drags his fingers down Kurt's arm, from shoulder to wrist. "Your arms. I got to see a lot of them this summer. I think about the hairs on your forearm and how if I just brush my palm over them a little, it makes you gasp."
Just hearing this makes Kurt gasp.
"And when we goofed off at that playground and you were swinging from the monkey bars and I could see, like, every muscle in them work." Blaine bites his lower lip. "You're so strong, Kurt. That really turns me on."
Kurt can't help himself. He wants to know everything but he wants to feel everything, too. He grabs Blaine by the shoulders and pushes him down on the bed, holds him still as he tugs down the collar of Blaine's shirt and plants his lips to Blaine's clavicle, sucking hard. He wants to suck another part of Blaine, too, but this will do for now.
"And your arms on me, Kurt, the way you hold me and god, fuck, what you're doing with your mouth right now." Blaine lets out a moan and Kurt's chest trembles. Kurt opens his mouth wider so he can get a better taste of Blaine's skin. The meal will wait for later. Kurt can wait. But still, right now, he needs a taste – sweet and fresh and a little salty and a lot Blaine – to tide him over.
Kurt stops and rests his cheek on Blaine's chest, looking up at the spot on Blaine's throat where he must have missed a spot shaving this morning. The stubble is a little longer there, and Kurt runs a finger along it, relishing in the slight scratch.
Blaine raises his face to look at Kurt and it is radiant. Kurt locks that look in his memory. He is going to return to it, linger in it, revel in it, when he gets home tonight and closes his bedroom door.
"What else?" Kurt whispers.
Blaine pulls Kurt up so that they're chest to chest and it is so everything. Kurt can see the little flecks of gold in Blaine's eyes and feel the rise of his breath against Kurt's own and feel Blaine's hard-on against Kurt's pelvis and the press of Blaine's thigh against Kurt's own erection. Kurt's skin is tingling from neck to knee, even though none of it is actually touching Blaine.
"This," Blaine says. "The weight of you on me." Blaine grabs Kurt's neck and pulls him in and there is no chasteness, no hesitance in this kiss. Kurt feels like Blaine could swallow him whole and, oh, he wants him to.
Kurt wedges his hands under Blaine's back. The heat of Blaine against him is exquisite and he wants to feel more of it, even though they are almost as close as two people can get. Kurt pulls them both onto their sides, never letting go of Blaine's lips, Blaine's tongue, and – no, he won't do that yet, not tonight when he's only just made it clear that that is what he wants. But if his hands can't wander to South America yet, he's pretty sure that Australia is okay. He runs his hand down from the small of Blaine's back down over his ass – oh my god I'm touching Blaine fucking Warbler's ass – and it is so round and firm and warm like a goddamn loaf of bread before you stick it in the oven except sexy and part of Blaine. Blaine is moaning into Kurt's mouth and Kurt squeezes it a little. It takes every ounce of Kurt's will not to knead it like a piece of dough.
Blaine pulls his mouth away from Kurt's, tips his upper lip away but doesn't quite break the kiss. "And that, Kurt," he says, panting between phrases. "I think of that. Your fingertips. Right there."
"Hmmm," murmurs Kurt. "I thought you said you think about the things you know about me. I haven't done this to you before." Kurt drags his fingertips down the seam at the back of Blaine's pants and doesn't stop until he hits the inner-thigh seam. He traces a small circle over and over on that spot.
"Oh," Blaine gasps. "Maybe I let my imagination wander a little."
"I like your imagination." Kurt kisses Blaine again, lets the fingers of his one hand linger on the cross seam while his other hand curls into the front of Blaine's t-shirt.
"Oh, Kurt. Kurtkurtkurtkurt." Blaine presses desperately into Kurt and holy, holy, Blaine's hands are on my ass and fuck, electricity and Blaine is grabbing at Kurt's hair and pulling him closer and closer and maybe we should go to South America tonight after all and –
"W-wait," Blaine stutters and rolls his hips away from Kurt's. It's probably only an inch, but it feels to Kurt like the entire Pacific Ocean is between them. Okay, warm salty liquid metaphors are probably not the best to come up with right now.
"Sorry, Blaine. I wasn't trying to push. I just – Yes, we'll stop."
"No, no, you weren't pushing," Blaine says, and Kurt is so glad the lights are on because he can still see Blaine's eyes and it's like the flecks of color keep changing on him, brass to bronze to sage. But Kurt knows they aren't really changing. It's just that he sees more of them, more clearly, every time he looks at Blaine.
"Kurt." Blaine strokes Kurt's hair, smoothing it back from the glorious mess he's made of it. "It's just that I don't want to stop and you have to leave in, like, 20 minutes. And it would break my heart to see you go." Blaine is getting teary-eyed and Kurt fucking loves this about Blaine, that he cries almost as easily as Kurt. It makes Kurt feel loved and not so alone.
"Kurt, you know it already kind of breaks my heart every time you go. I feel like a little piece of me gets torn away. And if I'm with you like that, and then you're just gone – it'll tear my soul out."
"Blaine – " Kurt starts, but then he realizes he doesn't have anything else to say. He places his hands on Blaine's jaw and gives him a soft, chaste kiss. Electricity. "I love you."
The flecks in Blaine's irises turn into sparks. "I love you, too," he says.
"It's like, every night, I go to sleep thinking I couldn't possibly love you more. And then, the next day, I find out that I can. Always."
Blaine smiles and takes Kurt's hands in his. They hold their hands between them, up toward their chins, as in prayer. They stay like that, quietly reveling each other's faces, until Kurt has to go.
----------end----------
I'd love your comments. Please remember that this is a spoiler-free zone, so please don't mention anything that's coming up in any episode past 3.05. Thanks!
My current music is courtesy ofali_jj, who posted this awesome 3.05 tribute video to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
kurt_blaine.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: urt/Blaine
Spoilers: 3.05 (The First Time)
Word Count: 1,923
Warnings: Sexual desire, references to masturbation, language, two hot boys making out (actually, the last one is a promise, not a warning)
Disclaimer: own nothing. Title from that dirty, dirty song by the Divinyls, "I Touch Myself".
Summary: Thinking about your boyfriend while masturbating is sexy, but telling him about it is sexier. Pure, unadulterated fluff. Canon compliant. [Note adde - This was written as a one-shot, but then it kind of grew in my head and I wrote a follow-up that happens later the same evening, How Strange the Change. This works as a standalone, but if you read and comment on both, I will bake you a plate of delicious, satisfying, calorie-free virtual chocolate-chip cookies.]
Author's Note: After recovering from Glee on Tuesday night, I realized that Blaine's "that's why they invented masturbation" line was the first time on network TV I had heard masturbation mentioned as something good and not to be ashamed of. Which may be even more groundbreaking than the other parts of the episode. I also wondered how the entire conversation didn't immediately devolve into sexy sexy talk, and I concluded it was because, duh, this was network TV and they were leaving it to the fanfic writers to come up with that.
Anyway, when
anxioussquirrel told me yesterday that s/he thought of me when s/he heard that line, I knew the muses were telling me something. [Note from anxioussquirrel: "Just for the record: I didn't think about you in a dirty way ;) And yes, I'm a girl-squirrel ;)"] This morning I woke up too early and lay in bed hoping to fall back asleep, but instead my mind turned toward Glee and I got up and wrote this. Unbeta'd - as always, comments are welcome. And if you notice any unintentional grammatical or typographical errors, please point them out.------------------------
hen I Think About You
Kurt realizes his boyfriend is saying something, and that Kurt should probably be listening. Because Kurt loves Blaine as a person, and what Blaine thinks and says is important to Kurt.
But it's kind of hard to comprehend the English language when Blaine has that ecstatic look on his face and is dancing around his room in those pants.
Actually, any pants – or even better, lack of pants – would probably do it for Kurt. These ones just happen to be the ones that Blaine is wearing right now as he sways his hips at Kurt's eye level. Five feet away, maybe, but still at eye level. And yeah, Kurt's the one that sprawled stomach first on Blaine's bed so that Blaine's hips would be at eye level but, still, this is so unfair.
"Do you think I'm boring?" Kurt spits it out more than says it.
"Are you crazy?" Blaine laughs with his whole face, his eyebrows – fuck, those ridiculous, hot, caterpillar eyebrows – arch and his lips curl and Blaine just keeps on dancing. "You're the single most interesting kid in all of Ohio."
Yeah, Kurt really needs to not have his eyes level with Blaine's hips if he's going to be able to speak coherently. He sits up on the bed and crosses his legs to camouflage his rip-roaring hard-on. "I mean, like, sexually. I mean, we are playing it awfully safe by not granting our hands visas to travel south of the equator."
"I thought that's what we wanted."
"It is," Kurt says. WantED. Past tense. Get it? "I'm just wondering – do you ever have the urge to just rip off each other's clothes and get dirty?" Like, right now? Because right now would be good. Maybe you could continue that dance in my lap.
"Ah, yeah. But that's why they invented masturbation."
And fuck, the image that seizes Kurt's mind – the image of Blaine lying back on this bed, clothesless, the ecstasy on his face ten notches higher than when he's dancing to Roxy Music, his hands traveling freely south of the equator – is entirely unwelcome and entirely awesome. "It's a little hot in this room," Kurt says. "Could we open a window?"
"Hey, I'm serious," Blaine says, as if Kurt wasn't. But he stops dancing and crawls across the bed – hot – to kneel next to Kurt. "We're young, we're in high school, yeah, we have urges, but whatever we do, I want to make sure you're comfortable. So I can be comfortable." Blaine strokes Kurt's back and it's so brief and so chaste, but it still sends a shock of electricity down Kurt's spine. Kurt used to spend a lot of time wondering whether the electricity he felt around Blaine was love or lust – but lately he's come to the conclusion that, with Blaine, they're the same thing.
"And besides," Blaine says, "tearing off all your clothes is sort of a tall order."
"Because of the layers?"
"Because of the layers." Blaine leans in and gives Kurt a quick but enthusiastic peck on the lips. It's comfortable and it's nice and it's confusing to Kurt how this is perfect, and yet not enough.
"So," Kurt says, lowering his lashes and dragging his index finger across the comforter. "What do you think about when you – " Kurt swallows hard and can feel the red flushing up from his collarbone to his cheeks. He makes himself look up at Blaine. "Masturbate?" The word comes out of him hoarse and breathy, and the way that Blaine smiles and his ears burn pink, Kurt knows it was either extremely sexy or extremely unexpected. Kurt hopes it was a little of both.
"Um," Blaine darts his eyes to the side, then back at Kurt. "You."
Kurt wraps his hand around Blaine's. "What about me?"
"Everything."
Kurt arches one eyebrow. "Everything?"
"Everything I know about you. The rest is kind of – hazy."
"And what do you know about me?"
"Your face." Blaine traces the fingers of his free hand along Kurt's jaw. "Mostly your face. You can do like, a million things to me with those eyebrows."
Kurt feels his brows involuntarily shift into even more of a question mark and he sees the slight tension around Blaine's mouth melt away. Blaine leans in to kiss Kurt again and this time it's a little less innocent. Blaine sucks lightly on Kurt's lower lip and Kurt's pretty sure Blaine wants to do more. But Kurt puts his hand to Blaine's chest and nudges them gently apart.
"I like that," Kurt says. "But I also like where this conversation is going." Blaine looks a little flustered, but his smile is much bigger than when he was dancing. The song blessedly ends and the room falls quiet. "Tell me what else."
Blaine drags his fingers down Kurt's arm, from shoulder to wrist. "Your arms. I got to see a lot of them this summer. I think about the hairs on your forearm and how if I just brush my palm over them a little, it makes you gasp."
Just hearing this makes Kurt gasp.
"And when we goofed off at that playground and you were swinging from the monkey bars and I could see, like, every muscle in them work." Blaine bites his lower lip. "You're so strong, Kurt. That really turns me on."
Kurt can't help himself. He wants to know everything but he wants to feel everything, too. He grabs Blaine by the shoulders and pushes him down on the bed, holds him still as he tugs down the collar of Blaine's shirt and plants his lips to Blaine's clavicle, sucking hard. He wants to suck another part of Blaine, too, but this will do for now.
"And your arms on me, Kurt, the way you hold me and god, fuck, what you're doing with your mouth right now." Blaine lets out a moan and Kurt's chest trembles. Kurt opens his mouth wider so he can get a better taste of Blaine's skin. The meal will wait for later. Kurt can wait. But still, right now, he needs a taste – sweet and fresh and a little salty and a lot Blaine – to tide him over.
Kurt stops and rests his cheek on Blaine's chest, looking up at the spot on Blaine's throat where he must have missed a spot shaving this morning. The stubble is a little longer there, and Kurt runs a finger along it, relishing in the slight scratch.
Blaine raises his face to look at Kurt and it is radiant. Kurt locks that look in his memory. He is going to return to it, linger in it, revel in it, when he gets home tonight and closes his bedroom door.
"What else?" Kurt whispers.
Blaine pulls Kurt up so that they're chest to chest and it is so everything. Kurt can see the little flecks of gold in Blaine's eyes and feel the rise of his breath against Kurt's own and feel Blaine's hard-on against Kurt's pelvis and the press of Blaine's thigh against Kurt's own erection. Kurt's skin is tingling from neck to knee, even though none of it is actually touching Blaine.
"This," Blaine says. "The weight of you on me." Blaine grabs Kurt's neck and pulls him in and there is no chasteness, no hesitance in this kiss. Kurt feels like Blaine could swallow him whole and, oh, he wants him to.
Kurt wedges his hands under Blaine's back. The heat of Blaine against him is exquisite and he wants to feel more of it, even though they are almost as close as two people can get. Kurt pulls them both onto their sides, never letting go of Blaine's lips, Blaine's tongue, and – no, he won't do that yet, not tonight when he's only just made it clear that that is what he wants. But if his hands can't wander to South America yet, he's pretty sure that Australia is okay. He runs his hand down from the small of Blaine's back down over his ass – oh my god I'm touching Blaine fucking Warbler's ass – and it is so round and firm and warm like a goddamn loaf of bread before you stick it in the oven except sexy and part of Blaine. Blaine is moaning into Kurt's mouth and Kurt squeezes it a little. It takes every ounce of Kurt's will not to knead it like a piece of dough.
Blaine pulls his mouth away from Kurt's, tips his upper lip away but doesn't quite break the kiss. "And that, Kurt," he says, panting between phrases. "I think of that. Your fingertips. Right there."
"Hmmm," murmurs Kurt. "I thought you said you think about the things you know about me. I haven't done this to you before." Kurt drags his fingertips down the seam at the back of Blaine's pants and doesn't stop until he hits the inner-thigh seam. He traces a small circle over and over on that spot.
"Oh," Blaine gasps. "Maybe I let my imagination wander a little."
"I like your imagination." Kurt kisses Blaine again, lets the fingers of his one hand linger on the cross seam while his other hand curls into the front of Blaine's t-shirt.
"Oh, Kurt. Kurtkurtkurtkurt." Blaine presses desperately into Kurt and holy, holy, Blaine's hands are on my ass and fuck, electricity and Blaine is grabbing at Kurt's hair and pulling him closer and closer and maybe we should go to South America tonight after all and –
"W-wait," Blaine stutters and rolls his hips away from Kurt's. It's probably only an inch, but it feels to Kurt like the entire Pacific Ocean is between them. Okay, warm salty liquid metaphors are probably not the best to come up with right now.
"Sorry, Blaine. I wasn't trying to push. I just – Yes, we'll stop."
"No, no, you weren't pushing," Blaine says, and Kurt is so glad the lights are on because he can still see Blaine's eyes and it's like the flecks of color keep changing on him, brass to bronze to sage. But Kurt knows they aren't really changing. It's just that he sees more of them, more clearly, every time he looks at Blaine.
"Kurt." Blaine strokes Kurt's hair, smoothing it back from the glorious mess he's made of it. "It's just that I don't want to stop and you have to leave in, like, 20 minutes. And it would break my heart to see you go." Blaine is getting teary-eyed and Kurt fucking loves this about Blaine, that he cries almost as easily as Kurt. It makes Kurt feel loved and not so alone.
"Kurt, you know it already kind of breaks my heart every time you go. I feel like a little piece of me gets torn away. And if I'm with you like that, and then you're just gone – it'll tear my soul out."
"Blaine – " Kurt starts, but then he realizes he doesn't have anything else to say. He places his hands on Blaine's jaw and gives him a soft, chaste kiss. Electricity. "I love you."
The flecks in Blaine's irises turn into sparks. "I love you, too," he says.
"It's like, every night, I go to sleep thinking I couldn't possibly love you more. And then, the next day, I find out that I can. Always."
Blaine smiles and takes Kurt's hands in his. They hold their hands between them, up toward their chins, as in prayer. They stay like that, quietly reveling each other's faces, until Kurt has to go.
----------end----------
I'd love your comments. Please remember that this is a spoiler-free zone, so please don't mention anything that's coming up in any episode past 3.05. Thanks!
My current music is courtesy of
ali_jj, who posted this awesome 3.05 tribute video to kurt_blaine.![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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