Rating: PG-13/light R
Word Count: ~1200
Summary: Blaine opens the back door, spots Kurt lounging on a deck chair, and promptly loses his ability to function as a human being. Because Kurt is tanning. Shirtless.
Author's Notes: Was going to post this directly to tumblr, but that was just not happening for some reason. Takes place between Season 2 and Season 3 of Glee, when they were just getting used to being 'boyfrans'.
“Hey, kiddo,” Burt says in greeting as he opens the front door. “Kurt’s in the backyard.”
“Thanks, sir,” Blaine says, waving his hand in the air as Kurt’s dad says Call me Burt for the thousandth time. Blaine can’t seem to shake the habit.
They don’t really have plans today, Kurt and Blaine, but it’s such a nice day outside that Blaine couldn’t help but come over the second he received Kurt’s text. After spending the last bit of school apart, Blaine loves that he can see Kurt almost whenever he wants over the summer. It was hard, but Blaine likes to think of this time together as his reward. He doesn’t want to think about next year, not when the sun is warm and there are months to treasure until then.
Blaine opens the back door, spots Kurt lounging on a deck chair, and promptly loses his ability to function as a human being. Because Kurt is tanning. Shirtless.
There’s all this skin that Blaine’s never seen before, pale, perfect skin stretched taut over muscle and bone, and Blaine wants to taste every single inch of it. He wonders if Kurt tastes the same all over, if the skin of his collarbone is salty like that at the juncture of Kurt’s jaw and neck, if Kurt’s hips are as soft and delicious as his calves. Blaine wants to kiss, lick, and bite, memorize the way the fine hairs of Kurt’s navel tickle against his face. He wants to taste other decidedly naughty areas, too, places they haven’t talked about exploring together but places that Blaine dreams about, imagines the flavor of as he tangles his legs in his sheets.
Blaine’s bag drops to the ground with a whump, and he’s not sure how he manages to get there except all of a sudden he’s plopping down on the deck chair next to Kurt.
“Hey, boyfriend,” Kurt chirps, and that sends Blaine reeling again just when he was about to touch back to reality, because he still boggles that they’re boyfriends, Kurt is his boyfriend. After three months he thought perhaps it should lose its appeal, but the word never fails to bring a dopey smile to Blaine’s face.
Kurt frowns, places his silver tanning reflector flat on his (smooth, pale, perfect) chest as he grabs the earpiece of his sunglasses between his pinched thumb and forefinger. He slides them down his nose to look over the top of them at Blaine. “You okay?”
“Skin,” Blaine says weakly, gesturing at Kurt’s body with flailing hands.
It’s as if Kurt suddenly realizes that he’s half naked in front of his boyfriend, a boyfriend who’s never seen him shirtless before, a boyfriend who is definitely enjoying the opportunity even though he knows he is probably unattractively goggling. Kurt squeaks, flings the tanning reflector from his chest which causes the muscles to ripple under his skin, oh God, as he leans back and frantically searches for something to cover himself with. His fingers brush against a shirt and Blaine panics.
“No, don’t,” Blaine says, licks his lips because his mouth is suddenly so dry. “I mean, you don’t have to. I could, um, take mine off, too? You know, to even it out?” Kurt blinks at Blaine once, twice, three times, until Blaine shifts nervously on the chair. “Forget it,” he mumbles.
“Okay,” Kurt says, breathes out shakily. “Yeah, that’s-- okay.”
Kurt smiles. “Yeah.”
Blaine doesn’t waste any time, nearly punches himself in the jaw as he tries to rip the shirt from his body. Then it’s off, balled up on the floor, and Blaine stills as Kurt drinks him in. He tries his best not to fidget, tries to keep his shoulders from slumping and clenches his stomach muscles a little to make his abs look better (he’s been meaning to start working out again, or at least start going to Fight Club more often), but Kurt’s face doesn’t change as his eyes rake over Blaine’s body.
The silent seconds stretch into minutes, and Blaine can’t help it any more. “Kurt, can--“
“C’mere,” Kurt says, reaching forward to pull Blaine in. His voice is husky, deep and a little wrecked, and Blaine groans as Kurt drags Blaine onto the deck chair. There isn’t anywhere to go, nowhere to grip and hold his body away from Kurt’s, so they press together from shoulder to hip.
Kurt’s skin is so warm, kissed by the sun and smooth beneath his palms. Blaine can’t get enough. He slides his hands to Kurt’s hips, feels his fingers press into the soft bit of flesh he finds there. Blaine leans in for a kiss, Kurt moaning against his mouth as he wraps his arms around Blaine’s shoulders
“You feel so good,” Kurt pants. His fingertips lightly trail along Blaine’s back, mapping a pathway between Blaine’s shoulder blades. “God, I just want to--“
“Yeah,” Blaine says, agreeing even though he’s not quite sure what he’s agreeing to. His grip against Kurt’s hips tightens and Kurt bucks up, moans as their hips slot together and-- oh. Oh.
That’s Kurt, hot and hard against him with only a few layers between them, and this is new, too. God, that’s his cock, right there, and Blaine tries so hard to angle his own hips away when they do this on Kurt’s bed, in the backseat of his car, on the couch, but Blaine feels all the blood in his body spike to his groin. He is so, so gay and that is Kurt’s cock and Kurt’s chest against his and Blaine whines into the hot skin of Kurt’s neck that tastes just like he’d imagined.
Kurt mumbles something, embarrassed, tries to pull his hips away, but Blaine can’t let the feeling go. He thrusts forward, groans as they line up and Blaine feels Kurt’s cock against his own. Kurt grabs Blaine by the shoulders, drags him up until their lips slot together and Blaine can feel Kurt panting heavily into his mouth. God, it’s so good, and everything is so warm and wonderful and--
Cold. Cold and wet. In all the wrong ways.
Blaine splutters, confused, as Kurt shoves him off and Blaine lands hard on his butt on the concrete of the deck. “What th-“
“Dad!” Kurt screeches, and Blaine is no longer in the mood. At all.
“Sorry, boys,” Burt hollers, and when Blaine looks up he sees Burt with garden hose in hand, watering the annuals on the side of the house. “Got away from me for a second.”
“I’m just going to uh, go to the bathroom,” Blaine mumbles. He can feel his face burning red, and Kurt’s isn’t any better.
“Yeah,” Kurt agrees, looking anywhere but Blaine’s chest. “Yeah I’ll, uh, be there in a second. Inside, I mean. Not in the bathroom with you,” he laughs, slightly hysterical. “I’ll start lunch.”
“That sounds delicious,” Blaine says, groping blindly for his shirt.
Later, Blaine will realize that Burt was trying not to chuckle, but in the moment he can't think of anything other than putting his shirt back on and pretending none of that ever happened.