Prompts, please

[wowbright]

I need to get my head out of my ass and write some fluffy drabble ficlets. (Someone just told me that drabble is supposed to be exactly 100 words, and all this time I just thought it meant "shortish fic without a plot.") Would anyone like to prompt? Must be Kurt/Blaine, Kurt or Blaine. Must be something that I can keep short since I have too much Real Work to do.

But I also feel compelled to say that I give no guarantees.

Because I'm kind of in a wishy-washy mood.

(Because aforementioned Real Work is not making me happy today.)

[Update: In order to force myself to keep these short, I am posting these as replies to the prompter in the comments section below. I am trying to keep these PG and PG-13, but if I get wild, I will post the rating at the top of the reply. If you think anything is improperly rated, please let me know. Also, FYI, I am doing these as freewriting exercises with no edits and spending less than an hour on each. Unless I am compelled to do research on, you know, ancient Hebrew love poems or something pretty much anything, or get distracted, or start to think too much, or get caught up in some scene and realize when an hour is up that I haven't even gotten to the prompt part yet. Then maybe I'll give myself a little slack.]

[Update 2: I plan to get to all of these eventually; feel free to continue prompting. I will close comments if it gets too much. I will try to get to them in the order of request, but if I get stuck on one I may move on to the next and go back later. This does not mean I have abandoned you! If there is something in a prompt that squicks me and I just can't do it, I'll let you know so you can prompt another. Oh, and keep in mind that I am writing these between other things, when I don't have a big enough block of time to work on larger projects or when I get stuck on the larger projects. Usually, when I have the blocks of time, the larger projects will take precedence.]

[Update 3 - Dec. 13: I posted an NC-17 drabble. All NC-17 and R drabbles are and will be appropriately labeled so you can easily skip them if you wish.]

Comments

[mixed-berryjam.livejournal.com]

hmmm... first new year's eve together? NYE party with warblers or new directions?

Here you go - New Year's, Anew: Part 1

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

OMG, this ended up thinky thinky - probably not what you had in mind, but hey, it's not what I had in mind, either (a little anget before the fluff, sorry)! It's a freewrite so I'm just gonna give it to you! (It won't all fit in one comment box, so I'm splitting it into two.)

A kiss at midnight bodes a good year to come.

Kurt's mother used to tell him this when he'd stay up late with his parents on New Year's Eve. Sometimes Aunt Mildred was there, and she'd bring two or three bottles of champagne and polish at least one off by herself, and then she'd sleep it off in the guestroom and make everyone French toast the next morning. Sometimes, there'd be another family from in town over - a couple times it was Rachel and her dads. And sometimes it was just the three Hummels, watching movies and playing board games until the ball dropped at Times Square.

Whatever the arrangement, midnight was always the same. Kurt's parents would kiss, and then Kurt's mom would lean over and kiss Kurt on the cheek and say, "Happy New Year to the most beautiful boy who ever lived!" and then he would kiss her on the cheek. Then Kurt would move toward his dad, who was invariably sitting on the floor, lift his hat back and kiss his bald spot. If there was anyone else there, Kurt would kiss them, too: Aunt Mildred thought it was most charming when he kissed her on the back of the hand; Rachel's dads accepted pecks on the cheek; Rachel insisted on faire la bise.

Kurt liked it when there were people over on New Year's, because he figured the more people he kissed, the better his year would be.

Then his mother died, and Kurt and his dad started to go to sleep early on New Year's, because it was just easier not to think about the year ahead, about trudging through another 365 days without her.

New Year's, Anew: Part 2

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

In middle school, Rachel invited him to a New Year's all-girls-and-Kurt sleepover. His dad almost told him he couldn't go, but when Kurt explained that he needed to go because none of the girls new how to polish their nails properly (Tina colors her nails with Mr. Sketch markers, for crying out loud), and they were relying on him to teach them about base coats and top coats and drying time. If he didn't, who would?

And his father relented.

He kissed every single one of those girls at midnight, starting with Rachel. Once the rest of the girls saw the faire la bise, they lined up for him. And then they lined up for Rachel. And then they just went around the room doing faire la bise with everyone.

There were 9 girls at that party, so Kurt figured it would be a very good year.

It was, and it wasn't. Because at some point during that year, he realized why his dad let him go to a girls' sleepover, and why he could be trusted to do nothing more than cheek-to-cheek kissing with any of them.

After that, the parties all started being co-ed, and he didn't want to go, because he knew that all of the single girls would run up to kiss hi at midnight because he was safe, and he'd rather kiss one of the boys. And, anyway, he wasn't usually invited.

Tonight, though, life has come full circle. He's sitting in his own living room with his dad, and a mother - not his mother, but a mother to him, anyway - and Rachel is there, too, although Kurt's pretty sure she's not going to be insisting on faire la bise with him tonight. She's been making bedroom eyes at Finn all night.

Mercedes is there, too, and Sam and Quinn, and Sugar Motta has been killing them all in Apples to Apples. (Sugar Motta? Who ever thought he'd be friends with Sugar Motta?)

And it makes for a huge room of people to kiss, but the only person Kurt cares about kissing is the one sitting next to him. Sugar Motta may be getting everyone else's green cards, but pretty much the whole night, all of Blaine's have been ending up in Kurt's hands, and vice versa. Santana stopped making wretching noises after the third time it happened.

It's 11:59 and it's funny, because Kurt thought he would be nervous, but he's not. Not nervous to kiss Blaine - although kissing Blaine still does give him butterflies in his stomach a lot of the time - but to kiss Blaine in front of all of these people. Because Kurt is private, and he protects what he has with Blaine so fiercely against the rest of the world. He often thinks, if they were a straight couple, he'd be just as reserved with Blaine in public as he is now, because what they have - people might think they understand it, but they don't. They don't understand what he and Blaine are to each other, and Kurt can't tell them, because he can't put it in words. And he doesn't want people to look at them kiss and think young love and infatuation and sweetness when he is thinking you are my home and completeness.

But the people he's with now, he thinks that maybe they're beginning to understand.

So maybe that's why, when the ball drops at Times Square and he turns to look at Blaine, Kurt forgets everyone else in the room, doesn't worry what they might understand or not understand. Kurt forgets everything when he sees the undulating gold and amber of Blaine's eyes - he will never tire of trying to memorize their beauty - Kurt even forgets how to speak.

Blaine's eyes are crinkling with delight and Blaine whispers, "To another year with you."

"Always," Kurt answers, and then they kiss.

Blaine's lips are familiar and yet, like a new year and all its hope, they are always exhilarating and plump with promise.

[judearaya.livejournal.com]

Blaine reads Kurt a love poem.

Blaine reads a very old love poem to Kurt

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

"'Oh, that he would kiss me with the kisses of his mouth!'" Blaine has pulled his desk chair to the edge of the bed, the book open in his lap.

"Okay, that's a promising start," Kurt says. He's sprawled on his stomach across Blaine's bed, examining his fingernails. "But a little redundant. I mean, what else would he kiss with? Do you think it's that clumsy in the original Hebrew?"

"'For your love is better than wine – '"

"Which is saying something, if they like wine as much as you do." Kurt didn't mean that as a jab, but he wonders if it was, so he reaches his hand out and squeezes Blaine's thigh apologetically.

"'Your anointing oils are fragrant – '"

"My what?"

"I think it's like cologne?"

"Oh."

"'Draw me after you, let us make haste. The king has brought me into his chambers.'"

"Now it's getting good."

"'We will exult and rejoice in you; we will extol your love more than wine.'"

"Wait. Is this a three-way?"

"I don't know. We never talked about this part of the Bible in Sunday School." Blaine looks down at the page, his brows furrowed. "Okay, and now it gets more confusing. 'Rightly do they love you.' Who's they?"

"Maybe it's a four-way. Or a whole panoply of lovers."

"'I am very dark, but comely – '"

"I don't like the word 'comely.' It sounds like 'homely,' but it means the opposite thing."

Blaine looks up and smiles. That impish, up-to-no-good grin that makes Kurt's stomach coil in delight. "But it has the word 'come' in it," Blaine says. "So it should be easy to remember that it means 'beautiful.'" Blaine closes the book and puts it on the desk behind him.

"And why should I associate the word 'come' with beauty?" Kurt says, running one finger down Blaine's thigh.

Blaine slides onto the bed next to Kurt, "Because" kiss "you" kiss "are" kiss "so" kiss "beautiful" kiss "when" kiss "you" kiss "come."

Kurt turns his face slightly away, and Blaine understands. He touches his lips to Kurt's earlobe and thrills at Kurt's shudder.

"Only when I come?" Kurt whispers, and the teasing in his voice undoes Blaine, makes him wild and desperate with love. "You don't think I'm always beautiful?"

"You are," Blaine says, tugging at Kurt's shirt buttons while continuing to nip at his ear. "You are always" suck "always" lick "always" nibble "beautiful." Blaine drags his tongue down Kurt's neck, eliciting the moan he loves. "When you come, you're resplendent."

--------------
[Author's Note: Blaine is reading from The Song of Solomon, Chapter 1, Revised Standard Version of the Bible. Why? I don't know, except that I used to read and giggle over it with my friends when I was their age. I suppose they could be reading Toni Morrison's Song of Solomon for school or leisure, and want to see if it has anything in common with the biblical poem.

Also, I kind of wanted to keep going, but I have to go to bed. And I promised to keep these short!]

[likeasouffle.livejournal.com]

Future!fic: Blaine wants a kitten! (Look at its little paws!) Kurt is skeptical. (They pee! They scratch things!) In the end, Blaine wins.

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

Oooh, I have ideas but must sit on my hands for a bit.

Cat-tastic - PG-13 (R?) for language and a couple lascivious comments

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

Here you go. OMG, this is long. I started last night and spent a little over an hour but Kurt hadn't given in yet, so I finished it today (don't know if it's still today in your time zone; I should have thought of that before promising you things!). It feels weird writing pure, unadulterated domestic fluff, so I had them say a couple raunchy-ish things to make myself more comfortable. Still think it's PG-13, though.

------------------

Blaine is sitting on the couch, staring at his laptop, when Kurt walks into the apartment.

"Still working?" Kurt says, dropping his keys in the bowl next to the door. He pulls off his coat and hangs it on the peg, then steps over toward Blaine, leaning over the back of the couch to kiss the top of his head. Kurt loves burying his nose in those glorious curls.

"Not exactly," Blaine says, closing the laptop leaning his head back to catch Kurt's lips with his own. It's a little awkward, Blaine's face hanging backwards, Kurt's face leaning forward, but they manage to keep their chins out of each other's noses, and Blaine is wrapping his hand around the back of Kurt's neck and his tongue – wow – six years and Blaine still takes his breath away.

"Hello," Kurt whispers, then swings around the side of the couch to sink down next to Blaine. "Have you been looking at internet porn again?"

"No," says Blaine, his huge, bashful smile spreading across his face. Kurt loves that he can still make Blaine look like that, flustered and shy as the first time they kissed. He hopes he'll always be able to. "You know it's no fun to look at porn without you."

"I'm here now," Kurt says, running his finger along the rim of Blaine's ear.

"Yeah, but if I open the computer, you'll see what I was looking at."

"Okay, as if those aren't the exact words to make me want to know what you were looking at."

"You'll make fun of me."

"Blaine, I might tease you, but I never mean to make fun of you. I love everything about you. Even the things that drive me crazy."

"Fine," Blaine says, opening the computer and typing in his password. "But you'll see."

The screen brightens and the screen is full of –

Cats.

There's a fat, stripey cat that's sprawled out on the floor like a roadkill toad. There's a small black cat perched on someone's head. There's a fluffy orange cat sleeping in a sink. There's a cat opening a cupboard with it's front paw.
"Oh, Blaine," Kurt sighs. "You weren't kidding about wanting a cat, were you?"

"Kurt." Blaine swallows hard and looks into Kurt's eyes. "I visit ICanHasCheezburger like, 12 times a day."

Blaine's voice is so earnest, Kurt doesn't dare laugh.

"And look how cute this one's feet are." Blaine points to a picture of a long-haired brown cat with enormous, mitten-shaped front paws. "It's polydactyl."

"Many fingered?"

"Kind of. It means it has extra toes. Hemingway was a big fan of them."

"And you, too, I suppose?"

"I'm a fan of all cats."

"But honey, we've talked about this. If we're going to get a pet, maybe we could get something that doesn't climb the furniture and poop in boxes."

Blaine starts bouncing excitedly, and Kurt reflexively puts his hand behind the back of the laptop so it doesn't slide from his boyfriend's lap. "I just got a book from the library!" Blaine hands the laptop to Kurt and leans over to ruffle through his bookbag. He retrieves a book and hands it to Kurt. "You can train them to poop in the toilet!"

Kurt stares at the cover. Okay, the cat on the cover is pretty cute, he admits. But the title? How to Toilet-Train Your Cat: 21 Days to a Litter-Free Home Not exactly on Kurt's reading list.

"And the furniture?" Kurt says.

"You like things that climb on furniture," says Blaine, and in one upward bound, Blaine is standing on the couch, then stepping on the coffee table toward the armchair on the other side. "You know, if we moved the TV just a little to the left and the dining table a little bit away from the bar, I could make it most of the way from the front door to the bathroom without touching the floor."

"You sound like you've been thinking about that a little too much."


CONTINUED BELOW

Cat-tastic - Part 2

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

"And the furniture?" Kurt says.

"You like things that climb on furniture," says Blaine, and in one upward bound, Blaine is standing on the couch, then stepping on the coffee table toward the armchair on the other side. "You know, if we moved the TV just a little to the left and the dining table a little bit away from the bar, I could make it most of the way from the front door to the bathroom without touching the floor."

"You sound like you've been thinking about that a little too much."

"But a cat could do it without us moving any of the furniture. Isn't that cool?"

"What about scratching? I mean, I'd like to get furniture I actually care about one day."

"Jenkins never scratched." Jenkins, Blaine's childhood cat that Kurt never met. He'd died about a year before Pavarotti. "Well, he did, but only on his scratching post. Which – oh, I have to show you!" Blaine lowered himself to the floor and crossed back to the couch the normal way, took the laptop back from Kurt, and began clicking and typing. "Speaking of furniture you'd care for. … Check out this scratching post."

Kurt looks at the image that appears on the screen – a twisted, hexagonal sculpture, elegant and a little sensuous. "That's a scratching post?"

"Yup. And there's others." Blaine clicks through sculpture after sculpture – undulating waves and eternity symbols and something that looks like a – well, kurt's not sure how to describe it, but it's beautiful. "And you can't tell me you wouldn't want to have this cat tower, even if we never got any cats."

Blaine's powers of persuasion were formidable. "What about the hair?" Kurt asked.

"That's why the celestial teapot invented lint rollers," Blaine said. "And gave you a boyfriend who will brush you down every time you leave the house."

"In the sexy way or the TSA way?"

"Well, I was thinking in the remove-cat-hair-from-your-clothing way, but if you want me to do it in the sexy way – "

------------

A few weeks later, Blaine is lying in bed, sneezing.

"It's albost sprig. It's too late to get the flu."

"This is probably a bad time to say I told you to get a flu shot," Kurt says, gauging the warmth of Blaine's forehead with the palm of his hand.

"Yes."

"At least you don't have any classes today."

"But I was goig to go to the library to work on by thesis."

"Sleep now and work later, Blaine. I'll make you a thermos of tea before I go to work, okay? Are you hungry?"

Blaine shakes his head pathetically.

"Okay. Go back to sleep."

"I would sleep better if there was a cat lyig on by stobach."

"I know, Blaine." Kurt kisses Blaine's damp forehead. "I love you."

"I know," says Blaine. "I still want a cat."

-----------

CONTINUED BELOW

Cat-tastic - Part 3

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

Three days after Blaine's graduation, Kurt walks into the living room and announces, "Put on your shoes. It's time for your next graduation present."

Blaine looks up from CuteCats.com. "I have to put on shoes for a blowjob?"

Kurt rolls his eyes. "Fuck you, Blaine."

"Yes, please."

Kurt tries to shoot Blaine a disapproving look, but cracks into a smile instead. "Maybe later, dear. First, we have to go out."

Soon they are on their bikes, and for some reason Kurt has insisted on hitching the cargo trailer to his. Whatever this present is, it must be big.

Blaine follows Kurt through the traffic, and it's only a few minutes later before Kurt waves at Blaine to pull over and they lock up at a rack. Blaine's still not sure where they're going; there must be at least 20 stores and four restaurants on this block.

"Okay, close your eyes," Kurt says, taking Blaine's hand, and Blaine will never tire of this, being able to walk hand-in-hand with his boyfriend through this city. It's almost gift enough. Blaine puts his left hand in Kurt's right hand, and wraps his own right hand around Kurt's elbow to steady himself against the darkness of his closed lids. They walk for about a minute before Kurt steers them left across the sidewalk and Blaine hears a door open. They step through and Blaine hears –

"Oh my God, Kurt. Do I hear what I think I hear?"

"Open your eyes."

They are in the middle of what can only be described as hipster cat heaven. Danish-modern cat towers twice as tall as Blaine, bins of bright toys, and a whole shelf of catnip labeled by variety and potency.

But that's not the exciting part. It's the mewing Blaine hears.

A young woman with pink and platinum blonde hair and two rings through her bottom lip steps up to Blaine. "The local cat rescue is here today doing adoptions if you're looking to bring someone special into your life." She points toward the back of the store.

Blaine is still holding on to Kurt with both hands, squeezing so tight that Kurt wonders how long it will be before his circulation will be fully restored.

"Kurt. You're the best. boyfriend. ever."

There's another woman in the back. She's from the rescue society and she tells them they can look, but they should also tell her about what they're looking for and what their lifestyles are like so she can steer them toward the right one. Blaine does most of the talking and Kurt lets his eyes wander across the cages. There's this one black cat who blinks at him with big amber eyes, and then he realizes there is another one in the cage with it, with white mittens and nose, and it starts to lick the black one behind the ears and – oh, they really are kind of adorable.

"Blaine," Kurt says, interrupting the conversation with the adoption lady.

Blaine turns to him. "Yeah?"

"Can we get two?"

---------------THE END-------------------

[bloodfever.livejournal.com]

Kurt & Blaine leave each other random notes. Everywhere they go.

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

OMG so sweet. And I'm terrified. I have no idea how they write. But I suppose it's time to discover :)

[specialj67.livejournal.com]

Future!fic: Blaine and Kurt go grocery shopping for their first Thanksgiving as for realzies adults.

A shiny two dollar bill for you if you have Blaine get into it--just a little bit because he IS Blaine, after all, and courteous is his default setting--with someone over the last can of jellied cranberry sauce (the kind that you slice and maintains the ridges from the can--THE WAY GOD INTENDED) because it is his very favorite thing and the one thing he insists on having against all of Kurt's protestations.

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

Ha! I love it.

[verdandil.livejournal.com]

Kurt and Blaine get cockblocked by finals. Cue frustration (in any sense) and tension and post-finals celebrations.

PG-13/R: ___ Times Kurt Gets Cockblocked by Blaine's Finals (and ___ Time(s) He Doesn't?)

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

Hello Verdandil,

I love the idea of doing this as a five times fic, but we'll see. I have two times for you now. It's a future fic, but I guess that'll be kind of obvious in the first sentence.

It's PG-13 for language and PG-13 or R for sexuality because, hello, this is a story about being cockblocked.

-------------

1.

Finishing school a year ahead of Blaine college a year ahead of Blaine isn’t as bad as finishing high school a year ahead of Blaine was. For one, they both live in the same place, and they sleep every night next to each other, instead of 532 miles apart. Yeah, sometimes Kurt has to nudge Blaine awake after he’s fallen asleep on the couch with a book in hand, or at the kitchen table with his face slumped dangerously close to his laptop’s keyboard. But Blaine always makes it to the bedroom eventually, and it’s nice to know that he’s there, and to feel his warmth radiating under the covers.

Kurt actually refers to Blaine as his “own personal radiator,” and complains when Blaine stays up later than him, because Kurt’s feet get so cold when he’s alone under the blankets, which keeps him from falling asleep. Kurt’s taken to throwing a heat pack in the microwave before he brushes his teeth on the nights that Blaine’s studying too hard, and throws it under the blankets when he tucks his lonely self into bed.

He doesn’t always fall asleep, though, and may get up after a while to lure Blaine to bed with his bedroom eyes or, if Blaine’s really tired, promises of a chaste neck rub and warm snuggle.

And sometimes Kurt falls asleep, then wakes briefly when Blaine finally comes in, leaning his face into Blaine’s neck and inhaling. The familiar scent lulls him back to sleep, except when it doesn’t. And that’s nice, too. Usually.

Except when it isn’t. Like tonight.

Because tonight, when Blaine slips under the covers wearing nothing but his skivvies – even though it’s freaking December, for crying out loud – Kurt jolts wide awake. He can smell Blaine, and maybe it should be gross because Blaine has been so busy cramming for finals that he hasn’t showered since yesterday – or was it two nights ago? – but it’s winter, so it’s not, really. The smell of shampoo and skin lotion have faded, and what’s left in their place is skin, and cinnamon toothpaste mingled with warmth and breath, and there’s a faint whiff of Old Spice. The last of which Kurt never thought of as particularly sexy until he met Blaine, and then – well, yeah.

Blaine is lying on his stomach, and he reflexively touches Kurt’s hand, like he does every night, and Kurt turns toward him, fitting his body along the side of Blaine’s torso and his muscular leg, and even though Kurt is wearing pajamas, it’s like he can feel the skin right through them. Prickles of awakening dance along Kurt’s own skin, and he wants all of Blaine, now.

He leans his face into Blaine’s neck and kisses there, but the moan it arouses is blurry and faded and fuck. Is Blaine seriously asleep already?

Kurt brushes his hand down Blaine’s back and hears a satisfied breath, heavy and open-mouthed, and he hears how slow and regular Blaine’s breathing has become already, and hears Blaine’s tongue click against the roof of his mouth in the weird way it does when he sleeps and –

It is going to be a long, long night.

-------------

CONTINUED BELOW

PG-13/R: ___ Times Kurt Gets Cockblocked by Blaine's Finals - Part 2

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

2.

It took a ridiculously long amount of time to fall back asleep, but somehow Kurt manages to wake up before Blaine the next morning. With a huge morning glory.

Ugh. He should have just taken care of this last night. But that would have been so – It wasn’t that that Kurt wanted. It was Blaine. Sometimes – no, really, a lot of the time, and a lot more often than Kurt would have ever imagined possible six years into a relationship – he just looks at Blaine or smells Blaine or hears him breath or hum, or thinks of him, and it’s hopeless. Kurt wants. And it’s not just horniness – though sometimes it’s mostly horniness, and that’s okay, too.

But usually – and today – it’s more than. It’s a lot more than that. He’s been watching Blaine work himself ragged over the past few weeks. He forgets to eat until Kurt gets home and reminds him, he’s been skipping his workouts, and his shoulders are so fucking tight that Kurt could work them like a misbehaving lump of dough for an hour and they still wouldn’t slacken. And Kurt knows it’s only temporary and he knows this is kind of what Blaine wants, because right now he’s only taking classes in his major and he’s loving every minute of it – or most of the minutes of it – and talks incessantly about his readings and his thoughts when he’s not actually studying.

But the finals part. This is ridiculous. Yeah, there are deadlines in the real world. But five different major deadlines in the span of two weeks? No. Not really.
Kurt just wants to give Blaine a moment to breathe, to come back to earth and out of his head a little, to create an afterglow in which Blaine can remember what he’s doing this all this work for – because he loves it, and not because he needs to be perfect.

So Kurt rolls out of bed with his ginormous hard-on and brushes his teeth and he really wants to go back into the bedroom and wake Blaine up with the blow job of his life, but if he really wants to make Blaine happy – he should probably let him sleep.

So instead he makes them both breakfast and walks back to the bedroom to check on Blaine, who has thrown the blankets off in his sleep and is sprawled across the bed, unkempt and glorious and making those clicking noises with his tongue. The shaft of light from the hallway falls across his calves, and Kurt is jealous of the light for touching the soft fur there when he really, really shouldn’t.

So Kurt goes back to the kitchen and puts Blaine’s breakfast on a plate and sticks it in the refrigerator, then eats his own, and leaves a note for Sleeping Beauty before he leaves for work, using the nicknames they gave each other after they read Lolita together (the only good things either of them got out of reading that book):

Light –

Breakfast is in the fridge. Don’t forget to eat it, or I will take it as a personal affront to my cooking skills.

See you tonight. I miss you already.

– Fire

------------------

PG-13/R: ___ Times Kurt Gets Cockblocked by Blaine's Finals - Part 3a

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

3.
 
"Yeah, yeah, okay. Let me know." Blaine hangs up the phone and the next sound that comes out of his mouth is the closest thing Kurt's ever heard to a barbaric yawp.
 
Kurt walks over from the kitchen and sits next to Blaine, stroking his back. Blaine's fingertips are pressed into his temples, pulling outward on his face. "Hey, hey," murmurs Kurt, pulling one hand away from Blaine's face and wrapping it in his fingers. "What's wrong?"
 
"This fucking group project. There's nothing more I can do until I get Toshiko's part back, and she's having computer trouble, and it's due in two frikkin' hours."
 
"If it's computer trouble, I'm sure you guys can get an extension." Kurt lifts his free hand to Blaine's hair and strokes it, slipping through the curls to rub the scalp beneath.
 
Blaine emits a moan that is a confused jumble of satisfaction and frustration. "I don't want a fucking extension. I want to be done with this."
 
Which is a sign of how exhausted Blaine is because, frankly, he almost never wants to be done with his work. There is always something else he can expand upon, explore, perfect.
 
"Okay," says Kurt. "But you can't right now. Maybe there's something else you can do? We could go for a walk or something while you wait for her to call back. You should probably get moving. You've been hunched over that computer for days." Kurt digs his fingertips into the ropes and knots of Blaine's shoulders and Blaine lets out a shameless groan.
 
"Yeah, okay. I'll put on my shoes." Blaine pushes himself off of the couch and turns around, hands outstretched, to pull Kurt up. They look at each other then – it's the first time they've actually looked at each other since this conversation began – and a flicker of recognition lights across Blaine's eyes, and Kurt knows his boyfriend is coming back to earth, the burden of worry slowly lifting away.
 
Blaine smiles slightly as Kurt stands up, and pulls Kurt in toward him. "Hello, there," Blaine whispers. "I didn't see you."
 
"Hey, stranger," Kurt breathes.
 
Their faces are close – exquisitely close – and Kurt can smell the intimate, familiar mix of coffee and almonds on Blaine's breath, and feels a little lightheaded at the way the ceiling light dances across Blaine's abundant lashes. Blaine presses his body into Kurt's, and kisses him, and it's not chaste or brief. Kurt feels himself being pulled into Blaine, the sweet tug of lips and tongue, and the embers that have been moldering inside Kurt all week spark into flame. He can feel it happening in Blaine's body, too, the heat rising through Blaine's chest and pouring into Blaine's hands. Blaine is tugging on the back of Kurt's sweater, greedy and wanting, and Kurt reciprocates, darting his fingers beneath Blaine's t-shirt to tease the skin of his back.
 
And then they are on the couch again, starving for each other and resentful at their clothes, but marveling at the way their bodies fit, their mouths fit, their hands fit. At the way they fit, together.
 
"I need you so much."
 
-----CONTINUED BELOW----

PG-13/R: ___ Times Kurt Gets Cockblocked by Blaine's Finals - Part 3b

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

It's a blur of kissing and want and unapologetic need, the satisfying sounds of irregular breath and hungry moans and the couch shifting beneath them, of fabric rustling and the gentle suck of lips on skin. The other sounds – of upstairs neighbors walking back and forth, of motors thrumming and horns honking outside, of radiators gurgling and knocking – disappear into the background. All Kurt can hear is Blaine's desire.
 
Until
 
KACHUNK!
BOWNG, BOWNG BOWNG BOWNG, BOWNG, BOWNG BOWNG BOWNG.
I hate I hate I hate when it's tragic
I love I love I love when it's my way
 
"Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck," Blaine spews. "Toshiko."
 
Kurt rolls off of him and grabs the blaring phone from the coffee table, turning it on and handing it to Blaine.
 
Kurt stands up and walks – a little uncomfortably – to the back of the couch to rub his boyfriend's shoulders and listen to Blaine's half of the conversation. Kurt feels a little evil for hoping that it's bad news for Toshiko's computer, and good news for what they were just doing. But it's the opposite.
 
"Oh, that's great," Blaine says in the forcefully pleasant way that only the people closest to him recognize as not quite genuine. "Um, yeah, I'll check right now." Blaine leans forward to grab his laptop off the coffee table, and it's just far enough that Kurt's hands can't follow all the way. The loss of contact feels like theft. Theft by Toshiko. Kurt is ridiculously angry at her.
 
Blaine turns toward Kurt and the frustration on his face is evident and heartbreaking. Blaine mouths "sorry," but there's no need to. It's not Blaine's fault. It's these goddamn finals.
 
Kurt kisses Blaine on the forehead and lets him get back to work.
 
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PG-13/R: ___ Times Kurt Gets Cockblocked by Blaine's Finals - Part 4

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

4.
 
Kurt is singing quietly to himself as he lets himself into the apartment. Blaine's last final exam was scheduled for this morning, and he had told Kurt that his after-exam plan was to spend the rest of the day sleeping, then wake up and have dinner with Kurt. And, if Blaine actually does manage to wake up – well, Kurt's figuring they'll both be up for a little more celebrating than that.
 
But when Kurt opens the door, Blaine is on the couch, computer in his lap, squinting intently at the screen.
 
"Congratulations!" Kurt says, kissing Blaine on the cheek. "I really think you should take a minimum 24-hour sabbatical from that thing, though," he adds, gesturing at the laptop.
 
"Oh," Blaine says, looking at Kurt with bleary eyes. "I forgot to text you."
 
"What?"
 
"I showed up for the exam today and the door was locked and I looked through the window and there wasn't anyone in there, and for a second I thought I was having one of those dreams where you show up to an exam, except you don't get there until it's over. Except I'm always naked in those dreams, and I looked down and realized I had my clothes on, so it was real."
 
"You missed your exam?"
 
"Well, no. After freaking out for a minute I called Mark to see if the exam location had changed and I'd somehow missed the message. And he told me it's tomorrow. I typed the wrong date into my calendar."
 
"Seriously?"
 
"Yup. I feel pretty stupid."
 
"That's kind of adorable. You're already turning into an absent-minded professor."
 
Blaine blushes and kisses Kurt's cheek. "But the good news is I have an extra 24 hours to study, now."
 
"You should spend at least part of that time sleeping."
 
"I will."
 
"And eating. I'll start making dinner."
 
Blaine beams at Kurt, and the energy in that smile is incongruous with the bleariness of his eyes and the sallowness of his face, but that kind of makes it even more endearing.
 
Kurt goes to hang up his coat, regretting that the chances of making his boyfriend see the face of the celestial teapot tonight during a passionate eclipse are pretty much zero, but glad that he can at least show him his love in the small, mundane, domestic ways.
 
When they get married, though, Kurt's really going to have to make sure that Blaine types the write wedding date into his phone.

Adorable!sleepy!Kurt

[anxioussquirrel.livejournal.com]

I saw this http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lujla89L141qjh31ro2_500.jpg (picture from here http://keep-frozen.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart) and now I want Kurt beeing adorably sleepy, maybe before finals in college? Stumbling around the apartment/room he shares with Blaine barely awake, in a too big flannel shirt he took from Finn or his dad and secretly brought with him, and trying to study just a little more? And amused Blaine? Or something:)

Just, anything with adorably sleepy Kurt please:)

Re: Adorable!sleepy!Kurt

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

OMG, that is adorable. I'm not sure how I'm going to keep this from turning into NC-17 with Blaine trying to reenergize Kurt for another round of studying.

[mander3-swish.livejournal.com]

Kurt & Blaine caught in the act. hilarious and hot if so inclined.
I've been on a voyeur!finn kick lately (as he tends to accidentally find them in 'compromising' situations...and has a deer in headlights thing going on) But it could be anyone who gets the free show.

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

I totally need to write some smut, as I keep accidentally turning very innocent prompts into smut in my head. Your prompt was well-timed!

[glitterwocky.livejournal.com]

Kurt and Blaine host a cooking segment as part of the McKinley student-produced daily video announcements. (This daily announcement thing is delightful and ridiculous. Oh, to be a high school in the suburbs. Not sure if any part of Lima would actually be considered suburbs, but if McKinley can make it rain on stage for a weekly Glee assignment...)

[likeasouffle.livejournal.com]

Are you still accepting prompts? I'm going to assume you are since this is still linked from your master post. (No pressure if not.) Also, I hope this is Kurt/Blaine enough, since you said prompts have to be Kurt/Blaine. It's mostly Kurt/Blaine. Also also, apparently NC17 is allowed now, so I'm gonna go with that.

Pre-Michael. Blaine actually finds Sebastian really really hot, especially the shameless flirting and forwardness. Sebastian says really dirty things to him about how he could do Blaine so much harder than Kurt could, and really make him feel it the next day. Blaine rushes over to Kurt's house to pounce on him and ravish him and begs Kurt for all the things Sebastian has promised. It turns out Kurt can do hard and fast and aggressive too. Win!

[wowbright.livejournal.com]

That is awesome! And honestly, as soon as I started reading this, I was hoping that Sebastian would make a live appearance in the coitus, but I can just write this as if that's what's going to happen *next* time around :)

Just FYI, I count non-monogamy/poly as Klaine as long as Klaine is in there and it's consensual. Because that's how I roll.

[judearaya.livejournal.com]

Kurt + Blaine + adam's apples. Make them sexy for me, you know how I feel about Adam's Apples (why i felt the need to capitalize the second time is beyond me)