Blaine is trying to respect Kurt's boundaries. Really, he is, even though Kurt hasn't actually laid down any. He doesn't need to say it; Blaine remembers his first boyfriend, knows that he should take this slow so that Kurt doesn't regret his first time. Especially given how they met.
But years of chivalry training haven't prepared him for the way Kurt looks at him sometimes, for the way Kurt presses his body into Blaine's when they kiss. He's profoundly unprepared for the curve of Kurt's lower back, for the way Kurt straddles his thighs, for the noises Kurt makes when Blaine sucks him off. It's been so long since Blaine had someone inside him and he's been finger-fucking himself every night for the last week to try to slake the lust. It hasn't worked and all he wants is to climb on top of Kurt and ride him until they both pass out, but he can't because gentlemen don't do that sort of thing.
Sometimes, he thinks Kurt does it on purpose, grinds up against him, wraps his arms around Blaine from behind. The few times they've fallen asleep together, he always wakes up with Kurt's erection pressing against his ass. He wouldn't mind at all if he could actually do something with it, but as it stands, it's just not fair. Blaine can't imagine what he did to earn this kind of karma, but it must've been horrible. The temptation is becoming unbearable and Blaine's honestly not sure how much longer he can last.
He finally loses it one night when Kurt is sucking him off, gripping Blaine's hip hard enough to leave marks and working him over so enthusiastically that his cheeks have gone concave. His thumb brushes against Blaine's balls, massaging gently, and then goes lower to that spot just behind them that drives Blaine wild. He arches his hips up off the bed, bucking out of Kurt's hold on them, and quite aside from nearly choking his boyfriend, the force of it makes Kurt's thumb slip lower, to push right up against his hole.
And Blaine just fucking loses it.
"Oh, God," he moans, and rocks against Kurt's thumb. He's at the wrong angle to force it inside him—wouldn't want it dry, anyway—but just the pressure is enough to rip at his already fraying edges.
"Blaine—" Kurt gasps, and Blaine can't take his eyes off of Kurt's mouth. His lips are slick and swollen, a deeper shade of red than they usually are. There's spit and pre-come dribbling down his chin, splashing onto his chest and continuing south. A drop of it falls from his lips all the way down to his cock, and Blaine's eyes follow it downward.
Kurt has one of the sexiest cocks Blaine's ever seen, and he has definitely seen his fair share considering that he's only seventeen. It's thicker than average, if a little bit shorter than Blaine's last boyfriend. Kurt gets hard so easily, even for a teenage boy. Blaine's never asked why, but he figures if he'd been as touch-starved as Kurt was for all those years, and suddenly someone was touching him as eagerly as Blaine was, he'd probably lack the self-control to hold himself back, too. Hell, Blaine barely has the self-control to hold himself back now.
Blaine licks his lips and darts his eyes back up to Kurt's, and he makes a snap decision before he can remind himself of why he hasn't begged for this yet.
"Kurt," he says, and even though he's managed to slow his hips down, they're still rocking against Kurt's thumb. "Kurt—you gotta—please, you gotta fuck me."
Kurt's eyes widen and he glances down at Blaine's groin. "You—you want that?"
"Want? God, Kurt, I—I fucking need. I'm sorry. I've been trying so hard to take this slow for you and you don't have to say yes, but—but fuck, I need you inside me."
"You—" He pulls his hand back, and stares at it as if he's never quite noticed he had that appendage before. Blaine whines at the loss, and doesn't care how undignified it sounds. He's waited long enough, damn it.
Kurt curls his tongue around his own thumb, watching Blaine's face as he does. When he's got it wet and slick, he lowers it again, pressing it right up against Blaine's entrance.
"Fuck yourself on it," Kurt says, and it might've managed to come out forceful if his voice weren't so shaky. His eyes, though, the way he's looking at Blaine, is so damn intense that Blaine would obey even if he hadn't just begged for it.
He rocks down once, twice, three times, until he manages to work Kurt's thumb inside him, shallow little thrusts while he adjusts to the intrusion. Kurt watches him, not moving his hand or averting his gaze. He just stares, just watches Blaine work himself over.
It doesn't matter that his middle finger might be better, that he could get it deeper and press it right up against that spot that makes Blaine see stars. It doesn't matter that two fingers would be thicker, or that one of Blaine's favorite fantasies involves him laying face down on the bed while Kurt ruthlessly finger-fucks him and he grinds down into the mattress. Any of those things would probably feel better than Kurt's spit-slick thumb, but he doesn't care. He just wandered through the desert, and he's finally on the edge of the promise land. He'll fucking take it.
Except he can't help the whimpers that bubble up inside him, can't stop the soft groans that the feeling of something slipping into him and then back out over and over again can create. Blaine loves the feeling of having something inside him, but his absolute favorite thing is the feeling of being impaled, of something pushingpullingsliding against his hole.
So he begs. Harder, faster, more, please, Kurt, please. Another finger, please, there's lube in that bedside drawer. Please fuck me now, Kurt, I need you inside me.
Or at least, that's what he tries to say. He's too incoherent to know if that's actually what came out.
But Kurt seems to get it because he turns Blaine over on his knees, slicks his fingers up and presses two into him all at once. Blaine rocks back against them eagerly, forcing them deeper, moaning when Kurt finally manages to find that spot. His fingers are going white from being clenched in the sheets, so he goes back to begging again because it's all he can do.
Kurt doesn't stop fingering him until he's got four of his fingers inside of Blaine, until they're sliding in so slick and easy, until Blaine is unrepentantly whimpering for more.
He's clumsy when he finally rolls a condom on and slips inside, shifting his legs until he finally finds a place to put them between Blaine's thighs. His hands are sure, though, gripping Blaine's hips and pulling Blaine back onto him, leaving Blaine nearly sobbing with relief. God, he's been waiting for this for so long, and Kurt's really not disappointing him.
"You—you could've just asked," Kurt pants out, but that seems to be as much conversation as he's capable of because he's mostly nonverbal after that outside of the stray, "Fuck!" and an entire chorus of moans.
Blaine's so close, has had this built up inside him for so long that he was doomed from the start. But he's never managed to come on his knees like this, and never managed to come without having a free hand to work his cock.
He reaches behind himself to settle his hand on Kurt's hip, and waits until Kurt gets the message and stops moving inside him. Wordlessly, Blaine pushes himself up, falling back onto Kurt's lap as the movement makes Kurt shift into a kneeling position with Blaine straddling his thighs. Gravity does its job and forces Kurt's cock deeper inside him, and Blaine finally has a freehand to grip his cock tight.
He fucks himself down on Kurt's cock, groans when Kurt's teeth attach themselves to his neck and nibble at his pulse point. He moves his free hand back to tangle in Kurt's hair when his boyfriend begins to suck, moans shamelessly at the thought of Kurt leaving a hickey there, marking him in a spot he won't be able to fully hide with the collar of his uniform. Kurt rocks against him, pushing his cock up into Blaine and meeting his thrusts, and Blaine teeters on the edge for no longer than a second before Kurt pushes him over, shatters him into a thousand tiny pieces and fucks him right through the orgasm.
He barely notices when Kurt groans out his name, too lost in the haze of blackness at the edge of his vision to feel Kurt's cock twitching his climax inside of him.
But he notices when Kurt slips out of him, groans at the loss and tries to pull him back, ridiculously trying to make it last despite it being officially over. But Kurt doesn't fall into bed beside him, doesn't sprawl out on his stomach like Blaine has. He stays between Blaine's thighs and nudges them farther apart. Blaine acquiesces unthinkingly, not bothering to care why Kurt is still back there, only knowing that he's bone-deep exhausted from finally getting what he's needed for so long.
Kurt's fingers are warm on his lower back and he doesn't protest when they slide down to his ass, when they expose his hole to Kurt's gaze. After what they just did, Kurt can look all he wants. Blaine's got very little to hide from him anymore.
One of Kurt's fingers presses gently against his hole, and he hears a soft intake of breath when it slides in without resistance. Blaine doesn't know if it was himself or Kurt who made the noise, but he tilts his head back to catch Kurt's eye. At his raised eyebrow, Kurt whispers, "Sorry. I just...I wanted to see. What I did. Are you—does it hurt?"
"A little," Blaine murmurs. "In a good way."
Kurt nods, and presses a second finger in beside the first. Blaine moans quietly and hugs the nearest pillow closer to his face.
"I don't think I can go again just yet," he admits. "Give me an hour or two?"
Kurt nods, and lays down beside him, curled up against Blaine's side.
"That was—" he starts, then shakes his head and presses his lips to Blaine's. "You're really amazing," he says instead, and tucks his face against Blaine's shoulder. The unspoken just as you are is louder than the actual words Kurt said.
"You, too," Blaine whispers, even though he's not sure Kurt can hear him, and kisses the top of Kurt's head.
So gentlemen shouldn't beg like giant cocksluts until their boyfriends fuck them into the mattress. That fact ceases to matter because clearly, Blaine's karma is better than he thinks, because Kurt doesn't seem to give a damn about what gentlemen should or shouldn't do. And that's just fine with Blaine.