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Title: A Proper Gentleman
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Kurt Hummel/Blaine
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,740
Summary: It really sucks that Blaine is too much of a gentleman to throw Kurt down on the nearest hard surface and suck his brains out through his dick.

Kurt Hummel has absolutely no idea how a sexual relationship between himself and Blaine will ever work. Which is unfortunate, really, because he definitely wants one, and he's reasonably sure Blaine does, too, given the number of times they've made out in the three weeks since Kurt transferred to Dalton. Kurt has been pinned against the stacks in Dalton's vast library, he's trapped a slippery wet Blaine against the side of the pool, and once David caught the two of them re-enacting so many old starlet movies on the Warblers' practice piano. And every moment of that has been mind-shatteringly fantastic. Kurt just has no idea how they can ever move on from there.

It's not like he's ready to ride Blaine's cock like so much porn or fuck Blaine in a hot tub yet, or to go all the way at all, really. But there are some things he'd like to do. He'd like to jerk Blaine off, or suck his cock, or—if he were feeling really daring—fuck Blaine's mouth in that little corner of the grounds where trees and bushes hide students from teachers' prying eyes.

But the thing is, Blaine is just so nice. The guy is like a saint. He's charming and respectful and so upright and proper. Hell, Kurt's dad even likes him, despite knowing that they're dating, even despite once accidentally walking in on them kissing when they were visiting the Hummel-Hudson house for Friday dinner. His dad even likes Blaine despite knowing that they live in a giant residence hall full of boys, most of whom would lie through their teeth to protect the two of them from getting busted, if they ever did anything to get busted for. Which they, sadly, don't. That's how damn charming Blaine is, and how very difficult it is for Burt to imagine Blaine doing anything untoward to his son.

(Untoward was Carol's word, when Kurt wondered aloud in shocked awe as to how exactly this Friday dinner—which he'd thought would involve a lot of uncomfortable silences from his father and a lot of wanting to smack Finn for being tactless—turned into his father, step-brother, and boyfriend watching football together and getting along like old friends. Carol had patted him on the shoulder and answered his rhetorical question with, "I think he can see Blaine is a gentleman. He knows a nice boy like that wouldn't do anything…untoward to you." Kurt had blushed about fourteen shades of scarlet and busied himself with helping her clean up the table so that he wouldn't have to deal with the fact that it pretty much confirmed his worst suspicion about his relationship with Blaine. If his father liked the guy, Kurt was clearly not going to get laid.)

Kurt has thought about having sex with Blaine plenty of times. It's been his favorite go-to fantasy since the day they met, basically. But for some reason, he can never quite imagine Blaine doing anything to him. Over and over, Kurt has imagined himself sucking Blaine's cock—the sounds he'd make, the way he'd taste, even the smell of sex and sweat in the air. And it gets him where he needs to go every single time, but he wants more than that. He wants Blaine to return the favor. He wants to finger-fuck Blaine's brains out until he comes all over himself, untouched. And eventually, he wants them to fuck each other in a million different positions.

He just can't picture it. Blaine is too…proper to be on his knees with his mouth stuffed full of Kurt's cock, looking up at him with lust-darkened eyes and moaning like a whore.

Which is an issue, because Kurt really wants to start having sex soon. And the thing is, he's kind of crazy about Blaine, so the idea of ending it with him and asking out that guy in his geometry class who's always giving Kurt the eye—and Kurt is still not used to a guy being so blatantly into another guy in front of a room full of straight boys, not a single one of whom give a shit—is completely out of the question. Perhaps stupidly, he is besotted with Blaine and any sex Kurt may or may not have in the near future will have to be with him. That's just the way it's going to have to be.

So. It really sucks that Blaine is too much of a gentleman to throw Kurt down on the nearest hard surface and suck his brains out through his dick. Irony, thy name is Blaine.

For awhile, Kurt tries not to think about it, to just be happy with kissing and the occasional bit of frottage—which never gets very far, because Blaine backs off as soon as he starts getting hard—except he's jerked off so many times in the last few days that he's starting to worry about carpal tunnel.

Which is how, one night when they're on Kurt's tiny dorm bed, Blaine on top of him and kissing him deeply, Kurt decides to just go for it and slips his hands down to Blaine's ass. He grips him tightly there, pulling Blaine down to him until their hips align. Blaine twists, trying to throw him off, but Kurt hangs on tightly.

"Kurt," Blaine pants a moment later, "slow down."

"If we went any slower, we'd be going backwards," Kurt answers. "I—I mean, don't you want to have sex with me? I thought—" He huffs. "You have to be attracted to me. It's not like there are no other guys around for you to make out with, if that's all you were after. I know of at least three off the top of my head, and I'm new so I don't even know everybody yet. So…so you're into me, right? Sexually?"

Blaine's lips part in surprise, slick and red and so damn inviting that Kurt wishes all over again that he could imagine Blaine sucking him off.

"I—" Blaine flushes. "Yeah, of course I am. I mean…who wouldn't be?"

"Okay," Kurt says, and sits up a little, which makes Blaine have to sit back on his heels to keep from falling into another kiss.

"Then…why won't you just—" Kurt waves a hand expansively. "I mean…at least let me touch you, even if you won't touch me."

"I told you, I do want to touch you."

"You're too nice to touch me," Kurt says dismissively. "Just—I'm getting blue balls here, Blaine. Taking it slow is one thing. Throwing up a giant stop sign is another."

"I said I do want to touch you," Blaine insists. "I do. I always have. I just thought—I thought after what happened—"

"Don't even go there," Kurt cuts him off. "We've been over this. You're not him. Are you not ready? Are you using that as an excuse so that I won't realize—"

Blaine lunges at him, knocking Kurt back onto his back.

"I want you," he says in a low, thick voice. "I want you so bad it's all I can think about. But I know me, Kurt. I'm not—I tend to attack sex. Like…I forget sometimes to go slow and make it special. I just…I actually tore a guy's clothes off once. With my teeth. It was horribly cliché and I think I may have traumatized him. And after everything you've been through—and the fact that this is all new to you—I wanted to wait until I was sure I wouldn't scare the hell out of you."

"My dad likes you," Kurt says dryly. "Consider me terrified already."

Blaine laughs, but it dies off pretty quickly. Then he just looks pensive.

"You really think I'm too much of a gentleman to get dirty with you?"

"Kind of. I mean…I want to, obviously, but I try to imagine face-fucking you and my brain just says, 'Blaine wouldn't do that. At most, he'd have tender, respectful sex in the missionary position with the lights off.'"

"Oh, fuck you," Blaine says, chuckling.

"I wish you would," Kurt replies back, and then Blaine is kissing him roughly and reaching for his fly.

At some point in the next few minutes, they manage to wiggle Kurt's uniform pants off and Blaine slides down his body, stretched out between Kurt's thighs.

And Blaine really wasn't kidding, because then he's got his mouth around Kurt's cock, licking and sucking him so enthusiastically that Kurt realizes how utterly stupid it was to think that Blaine couldn't have dirty sex, because clearly, the guy belongs in porn.

"Fuck," he shouts, but Blaine's only response is to wrap his hands around Kurt's hips and pull him up, take him deeper. Kurt feels the head of his cock hit the back of Blaine's throat and even that doesn't seem to be enough.

Blaine pulls off, spit and pre-come dribbling all over both of them, and says, "You wanted to fuck my mouth, right?"

"I—well, yeah…"

"Do it," Blaine tells him, and it is literally everything Kurt can do to keep himself from choking Blaine on his cock. He kind of loses it, looking at the sight before him, and just rocks up into the hot, wet friction surrounding him. He feels like he's falling apart in all the best ways.

"Blaine—" he gasps, because it's too soon, this can't be over already, but then it is, because he's coming and shaking and Blaine never stops sucking.

"Kurt," Blaine says afterwards, when they've both fallen silent and Kurt can't figure out if it's out of embarrassment or that's just the way things are after sex.


"I—I didn't freak you out, did I? Because I swear, I like things to be special, too. Just…sometimes, my dick takes over and my brain can't get a word in edgewise."

"You didn't freak me out. I think you forget I have a dick, too. I mean, yeah, I'm stupid about you, but…" He shrugs. "Hormones," he says, as if that could explain it all. "Sometimes I just want to forget about taking it slow and sweet and throw you down and—and I don't even know what because until tonight, I couldn't picture that part."

"But you can now?"

Kurt doesn't answer with words, just pulls Blaine into a kiss. It's time he got started on returning the favor, anyway.
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August 2011

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