and a wonderful spring to be sprung
"Best Of Both Worlds" - Kurt/Blaine

Together again in NY, Blaine finds a dildo in Kurt’s shower and wonders if Kurt has been hiding his desire to bottom for Blaine’s sake—but the toy isn’t the only thing Kurt wants.

Warnings for: sex toy penetration and barebacking (tested and within a monogamous relationship).

"Is it the one with the yellow or the blue label?  Wasn’t last year’s version blue?" Blaine asks, rifling through the top shelf of the rack in the bathroom.  

"The yellow label.  It’s the smaller one, though.  Santana made off with the big bottle at some point, I think."

That makes sense; Blaine is used to the shape of the larger bottle and the smaller one is still in the box, on top of that.  He grabs it and turns, halfway out of the room when a large, dark shape just peeking out from the edge of the shower catches his eye.  

It isn’t like him to snoop; if he lived here he might not be so concerned about peeking but he, Sam, and Artie have their own apartment across town and most of the time he’s fine with the arrangement.  It’s given he and Kurt a chance to really do this getting back together thing correctly; start dating all over again from the ground up, with enough space and privacy to cope with all the ups and down, and with a great support system for Blaine on top of that.

But this is weird, and he just can’t help himself.  He plucks the shower curtain to the side with one fingertip.

And there on the far wall is a large black dildo—the ribbed, human-looking kind—suction-cupped to the wall and dangling in what can only be described as a menacing way.

Blaine stares, eyes wide with shock.

Kurt has the apartment to himself this weekend, so it can’t belong to one of the girls—and thinking about that kind of makes Blaine want to stuff metaphorical fingers in metaphorical ears and start humming loudly, so he doesn’t linger on the thought.

It has to be Kurt’s.

Blaine flushes, and then immediately starts to panic.

Kurt almost always tops.  It’s one of the things that they have always done and not discussed in depth, both as teenagers and now as slightly more mature adults.

Is this something that Kurt has wanted and never felt comfortable talking about?  Does Kurt only top because Blaine enjoys bottoming so much?  Oh, god, what if their entire sex life has been one huge compromise on Kurt’s part?

In the beginning it had just sort of happened that way; Blaine had gone crazy any time that Kurt had touched him that way and once touching evolved into penetration it had seemed a natural conclusion.  Kurt had been comfortable being in control and Blaine had been all too eager for that extra attention.  There were times when they switched, of course—it was only natural to be curious about the other way around and they both agreed that variety was important, but by and large they were comfortable with the roles they’d settled into.

It worked.  They worked.  

Has something changed?

There is no way that he can let this go without talking about it, especially considering how intense their sex life has been since they got back together.

He deposits the little bottle of moisturizer on the table where Kurt is going through an experimental combination of new products and when Kurt is done smiling, thanking him, and giving him a little kiss on the cheek he sits Indian-style on the bed.

His face is already on fire but he pushes past the embarrassment, saying with a nervous half-smirk and a chuckle, “I, um, I noticed your—your toy.” He motions.  Kurt freezes. “In the bathroom.”

Looking caught in the proverbial headlights, cheeks flaming and all, Kurt puts down the cotton pad he’d been dabbing across his forehead. “I meant to put that away before you came over.”

They stare at each other through the mirror for a moment and then Blaine says, “We haven’t—done it like that since we got back together.” 

Heat rushes down the back of his neck.  Now that they’re talking about it, he’s can’t help the images forming in his head.  He shouldn’t allow that until they’ve had a serious discussion about this, but there isn’t much voluntary about his thought process right now; he has had Kurt that way, and it isn’t difficult to conjure up the memories here and now, applicable as they are.

Kurt’s eyes are warm and intent on his.  He licks his bottom lip and turns in the chair he’s sitting on, the robe draped untied around his body falling open over his bare chest and thighs.

Blaine can’t help but drink him in, lips parting.  All at once Blaine wants him, fierce and deep, like hunger gnawing at his belly.

"I know," Kurt answers, voice raspy. "I, um—" He toys with the bottles on his vanity; Blaine watches him turn each bottle exactly three times, until they are all facing the same way.  He’s agitated. "I’d like to." He exhales, fidgeting with his fingers. "But it’s not so much that I just want it—the other way."

"Then what is it?" Blaine asks, wanting to reach out and soothe Kurt’s nervous tick but not sure whether the effort would be welcome at this moment.  Sometimes interrupting too soon just makes it worse.

"I kind of—" Kurt motions once, then lets his hands fall into his lap, cheeks glowing bright pink. "When I’m—inside you.  I like the idea of sometimes being—full, too.  At the same time?"

Blaine has to bite his lips shut to stifle the whimper that rises in his throat.  Even with that effort it comes out as a sort of half-surprised half-strangled squeak and he nods frantically to cover it up, eyes dancing along the far wall of the room as the heat buzzing at the back of his neck surges down his chest.

"Oh," he says, finally, feeling as punch drunk as the thing between his legs.

"I was—maybe thinking about that before you came over," Kurt says, voice going an octave lower.  But he’s not fidgeting anymore.  His eyes are hot, boring into Blaine’s. "Well.  I thought about you—" The blush darkens. "Fucking me.  Without asking or—anything being different.  Just doing it."

Blaine can’t breathe, the tension between them is so thick. “Yeah?”

"I don’t always want to," Kurt says. "Most of the time I just—it’s a relaxation thing, I guess?  But when I do—like this morning, when I woke up.  It was quiet for the first time in months and I knew you were coming over.  And we were up late last night on the phone—"

Blaine smiles at the memory. “We were.”

"I fingered myself while we were talking," Kurt confesses.

"Oh."

"So I was really worked up this morning." He shifts around.  Blaine can tell that he’s trying to rearrange himself without being obvious about it. "I—I took a shower and I used it, the toy." Blaine stares at his mouth as he talks; it’s wet and swollen from the nervous licking and biting that he’s been doing. "I almost waited for you, but—I couldn’t?" He clears his throat. "I just kept remembering what you said, how you—you were telling me how badly you wanted me inside of you.  And I wanted that, too, but I wanted you and to be fucked at the same time.” He bites his bottom lip. “I wanted both.” He sinks farther into the chair and his knees spread apart.  He looks away, embarrassed, and Blaine’s breath stops in his throat. “I’m still all open.”

Oh, god.

"Kurt," Blaine whines.

"You asked." Kurt’s body spreads down the length of the chair; he’s hard, filling his briefs, and his pale, hairy legs unfold at the knee.  His eyes drift slowly over Blaine’s body. "I can’t stop thinking about it."

Blaine sits up at the edge of the bed, not bothering to hide his erection, his chest hitching with uneven breath. “Now?  Can we?”

Kurt chews his lip and nods rapidly, excitement and impish joy making his eyes flash and his grin sharp; he’s embarrassed but with the offer on the table he’d never shy away and Blaine knows that.  He holds out a hand which Blaine is there to take and use to lead them, laughing and breathless, into the bathroom.

The toy is situated on the side of the shower away from the shower head; Blaine isn’t so much concerned with the actual showering part of the proceedings right now, so he just turns it to a low, tepid setting, angling it away from the far wall.

He struggles out of his clothes as Kurt shrugs off his robe and steps out of his boxers; he wants this too much to linger on clothing removal, and Kurt is grinning and grabbing at his naked hips before he even finishes, tugging his pants and socks off of his ankles and coming up as soon as it’s done to kiss him.

They attack each other’s mouths all the way into the tub, where Kurt puts one hand behind them to find the slope of the toy and keep himself from stumbling back into it.

Blaine sucks open-mouthed kisses down Kurt’s throat, breathing heavily. “Need fingers?”

Kurt’s eyelids flutter, a hungry expression stealing over his face. “No.  But you do.” He skims a hand down the curve of Blaine’s ass, then squeezes the left cheek roughly. “God, your ass.  Can I…?”

"I don’t need much," Blaine replies.  

He’s so turned on that copious amounts of lubricant would do just fine, but this will give Kurt time to relax and enjoy himself and that’s all that matters.  They kiss as Kurt slicks his fingers and begins playing with his ass with his dry hand, kneading his cheeks, his balls, his perineum, until Blaine is grinding against the curve of his hip and panting.

"Feel so good," Kurt says.

Blaine can’t keep his hands off of Kurt’s ass, either.  He keeps reaching back to part the lush, round cheeks, and finally he takes the lubricant from Kurt and spreads a generous amount all over the dildo jutting out from the wall.  They’re panting loudly into each other’s mouths.  Blaine smears Kurt’s rim with another layer of lubricant at the same time as Kurt gently pushes two fingers inside of his aching hole.

"Kurt, god,” Blaine exhales.  His head goes fuzzy for a second as he relaxes around the digits.  Desire surges up inside of him, making the dizziness flare. “Sit back on the toy for me?”

He’s holding it around the middle, panting against Kurt’s jaw, and it’s nothing to tilt the thick, ribbed shaft up, to guide the blunt head home.  The sight of the thick, black toy disappearing between Kurt’s pale white cheeks is erotically shocking; Blaine shakes as he breathes out, as Kurt goes stiff in his arms, head tilting back, chest ejecting a series of stuttered gasps as his body gives way.

"Oh my god," he moans.

The toy sinks inside of him slowly but easily and Blaine groans, sinking his teeth into Kurt’s shoulder as he watches Kurt take it.  He can feel Kurt’s cock twitching against his belly.  Kurt hadn’t been kidding when he said he was still stretched; his ass swallows the dildo as if it were made to fit.

"It’s so big," Kurt whines, bottoming out with a shudder.  His slick, dusky pink hole is stretched to its limit by the wide, flared base of the toy.

Blaine kisses his neck, strokes his hips as he gets used to it and, once he’s sure that Kurt is okay, he slowly turns, giving Kurt his back.  Kurt slides a hand down his belly and finds his cock, hard and leaking.

"Want my ass around you?" Blaine whispers, biting at Kurt’s chin as Kurt strokes him.

"Don’t tease," Kurt replies, grinding against Blaine’s cleft. 

"Not teasing." He rocks his hips, letting Kurt’s cock fall between his cheeks.  He’s a little fatter than Kurt back there, and the swell of his ass is enough to keep Kurt’s shaft propped up and cradled. "It’s all yours.  Take it, honey."

Every motion of Blaine’s hips sends Kurt back onto the dildo filling him, and every time it happens Kurt hisses and shakes.  Blaine can practically feel him squeezing around the toy to keep it deep inside, can feel the way that he wants to move so badly.

"The sooner you get inside me the sooner you can fuck yourself on that big cock," Blaine murmurs. "Come on, Kurt.  Come on—"

Kurt thumbs his cheeks apart and rubs the head of his cock over Blaine’s slack rim. “Are you sure?  It’s so fast—”

Sometimes that’s okay, and this is one of those times.  

Blaine whimpers, wrapping a hand around one of the metal poles that holds the shower curtain up around the tub.  It’s seems sturdy enough, so he adds his other hand and leans forward, letting his ass spread open, his back tuck down so that Kurt can reach him easier.  

He can feel his body literally throbbing, waiting for the blunt press of Kurt’s girth.  It isn’t always this immediate, but he’s been on edge since he made his discovery not long ago, and the only thing on his mind right now is getting fucked, and getting Kurt to move on that toy so that he can have it, too.

"You’re shaking," Kurt whimpers, rubbing his cock up and down over Blaine’s hole. "Can’t believe we’re doing this.  Thought about it so many times.  Oh, god, Blaine, can’t even—so hot—" He can tell that Kurt is distracted, can feel the backward twitch of Kurt’s pelvis away from him and toward the dildo. "Doesn’t even feel weird anymore, just so full.  This morning I didn’t—I just stood like this, flat against the wall with it deep inside while I—touched myself.  But now I want to move.”

"You can," Blaine replies, spreading his legs. "Come on, sweetheart."

"Come back on me," Kurt pants, setting his feet on the rubber bath mat. "Put your—"

Blaine lifts up, letting head of Kurt’s cock pop past his rim.  He inhales sharply, then exhales as the shaft follows, inch by inch, and by the time that Kurt’s pelvis touches his cheeks he’s expelled that single breath.  He takes another, then, gripping the metal pole like a lifeline as Kurt slowly, slowly, with a wet, dragging suck pulls out of him, and fucks himself back onto the dildo.

"Oh god,” Kurt moans.

"That’s it," Blaine says, rolling his pelvis and clamping down to keep Kurt inside at the head. "That’s it." God, he can’t remember the last time that being full felt this good; knowing that Kurt is finally getting something that he’s been fantasizing about for a long time is making Blaine want to shake apart with sympathetic pleasure. "Let me move for a while, okay?  Let me just—feel you."

"Yeah," Kurt pants. "Want that.  Want to watch."

Blaine whimpers, digging his heels into the bath mat and, after a second application of lubricant, rocks slowly back on and off Kurt’s cock.  The burning stretch is keen after brief preparation, but it’s just this side of rough enough to feel perfect for Blaine, who closes his eyes and lets his body weight and the muscles in his thighs do all of the work.

The droning hush of the shower water fills his ears and he lets himself sink into it, one hand wrapped around his cock in a slow tug.  He doesn’t need much; this is all too good, too fast.

His breath hitches.  Kurt’s hands move over his cheeks and back, even as high as his corded shoulders and into the damp hair at the back of his head, twisting the strands.  He can feel Kurt’s fingernails scrape long red trails down his back and shoulders and he pants, stomach muscles tensing up.

"Gorgeous," Kurt says, rolling his pelvis in short circles.

"Close," Blaine whimpers, ass clenching tight around Kurt.

Kurt’s fingers dig into his hips and for a frantic twenty or thirty seconds he thrusts into Blaine, hard and fast, gasping as the toy plunges in and out of him. “Come around me, want you to.”

"Oh, god," Blaine gasps, and it hits him faster than he thought it would, flaring at the base of his cock suddenly; he shoots over his hand and across the shower curtain just once, then slow and gushy over his fist the rest of the way, ass throbbing and hips jolting.

Shit,” Kurt gasps, back arching.

His knees almost give out, that’s how intense it had been; he groans, twitching and warm and shivering all over, as his cock pulses in his hand.  Thank god for Kurt’s strong arms holding him around the waist.

"Second," he pants, eyelids fluttering as the orgasm continues to lash his nerve endings. "So good, god, feel like I’m still coming." His legs are quaking dangerously.

Kurt pushes deep, and Blaine can feel him take a breath that flattens his belly between his ribs. “Yeah?”

Blaine’s cock throbs and gives up a final dribble at the scrape of Kurt’s cock over his prostate. “Yeah.” He laughs, overwhelmed by the cocky response.

Grinning, Kurt pulls back, his own breathless laugh cut off midway as he takes the toy deeply again. “Can I—can I keep going?” He’s letting himself take it, now, no hesitation.

Blaine’s softened rim and stretched hole have no objection.  He stands up, slowly and carefully, and Kurt’s arms circle him, one low around his belly and the other higher on his chest. “I’m all yours.”

Kurt inhales, slotting their legs together.  Blaine slicks them up again and Kurt sinks forward into him with a groaning sigh, and then back against the wide stretch of the toy with a groan. “God that feels—”

"Tell me."

"Amazing.  Can feel it so deep, my body, your—yours—our heartbeats, god, don’t—stop, I—I’m too close.”

Blaine slows down, loosens himself a little and just cranes back into Kurt’s body, tilting his head to claim a few sideways kisses.  Kurt pants gratefully into his mouth and they just stand together for a minute or so, sipping from each other’s lips and feeling each other’s pulses race.

But Kurt doesn’t stop writhing softly on the dildo, and Blaine can hear under the far away patter of water the noise of the thick toy gliding in and out of Kurt’s stretched hole.  He traces a line of prominent red down Kurt’s cheek and jaw, closing his eyes against the sensation of Kurt’s cock throbbing inside of him.

He loves the slow down before they can’t take it anymore and have to come.  He loves the way that he feels so connected to Kurt, protected by the strength of the feelings that they share for one another.  He breathes in the smell of Kurt’s clean skin, tinged with a hint of face scrub and sweat and lubricant.

"I love you," he says.

"Love you, too," Kurt replies, breathing raggedly.

Blaine risks a slow grind of his hips. “Okay?”

Kurt bites down on Blaine’s lip in reply; his legs and arms are quaking with the effort of staying upright and balanced between thrusting into Blaine and back onto the toy. “I’ve been close since you came.”

"Hitting the right spot?" Blaine asks cheekily, running one hand back behind Kurt to touch the base of the dildo, feeling where it’s sliding so sweet and slick inside, stretching Kurt’s rim.

Kurt’s voice is even more wrecked when he replies, “It’s hitting every spot, and you’re so tight—”

Getting a positive vibe, Blaine continues circling his pelvis, the muscles of his belly and chest and thighs corded, skin flushed red; he’s reaching tilt in terms of stamina, but it feels so good to grind his swollen prostate against Kurt’s cock and let his own soft length just twitch.

"You like that?" he asks, dirty and low, kissing Kurt’s ear. "Like me all loose and fucked out on your cock while you’re so full?"

"God, Blaine, yes.” His face is fire engine red—Blaine loves letting go with the dirty talk right before Kurt comes, knowing that even though Kurt has never explicitly said that he likes it, he does.

Though they were tested and decided to stop using condoms as a rule recently, they typically do still use them for the ease of clean-up; not necessary in the shower, though, and Blaine is reeling, so ready for it.

There’s just something about Kurt filling him at the end that makes it feel so much more intimate—trust is as sweet as candy to them now.  He feels as if they’ve earned it, and every time Kurt slides into him bare skin to bare skin his heart swells with the knowledge that they’ve fixed at least one thing between them in a very permanent way.

Kurt’s hands slide up his chest, as high as his collarbone, and gently press his throat, turning Blaine’s face into a desperate, breath-filled kiss.

"Put your weight back on me, okay?" Kurt asks, and Blaine does, feeling his cheeks spread, slick with sweat and lube and the humid air of the shower, across Kurt’s hips.  Kurt tenses, holding him tighter, fingers closing around Blaine’s jaw and stomach respectively. "Don’t move, just let me—" He’s squirming, a barely-there writhe of his pelvis that pins the toy against his prostate and his cock as far as it can go into Blaine’s ass. "Oh, god—”

"Yeah," Blaine hisses, not moving but tightening himself as much as he actively can. "Come for me.  Make a mess in me, come on."

Kurt buries his face against the hair just above Blaine’s ear and rocks suddenly, rapidly forward, just enough to use the weight of Blaine’s pelvis to give him the friction he needs.  He gasps out a series of broken whimpers, high-pitched and clipped, and Blaine feels the shaft of his cock pulse just once against his rim as he comes, sobbing.

He’s shaking so hard after that they can barely manage to stay upright much less together, so Blaine carefully lets Kurt slide out—blushing and feeling a flicker of arousal as Kurt’s come leaks sluggishly but steadily from his hole and down the back of his balls.  It smears his thighs and gets stuck in all the hair, which he would never admit to liking but god, he does.

He wraps his arms around Kurt, kisses his mouth and cheeks and jaw, then grins subtle and sweet as Kurt carefully lets the toy slide from his body.

"Oh, that is going to hurt tomorrow," Kurt whispers, staring at him with hazy, satisfied eyes.

Blaine starts discreetly rinsing himself out using a clean washcloth, one arm around Kurt’s exhausted body, Kurt turned into his side, kissing his neck while joining him in the ritual.

They take turns actually showering after that, and when they’re towel-clad and comfortable on Kurt’s bed, Blaine calls little spoon and sighs in contentment when Kurt’s chest settles against his back.  He tangles their legs and fingers together and closes his eyes, body sore and ass aching.  

"That was incredible," he says.

"Twice in one day may have been pushing it," Kurt admits.

"Are you okay?  Not hurt or anything?"

"No, just really sore.  Thank god I don’t have dance until Wednesday.”

"I could kiss it better," Blaine says, smirking.

"Somehow I doubt that would end in us not exerting ourselves again."

"Aw, why not?"

"Because if you put your mouth anywhere down there, I’d have to come again, and then," he says, kissing down Blaine’s neck, "I’d have to make you come again, because I am fair and just, and then—” He digs his fingertips into Blaine’s ribs, tickling him mercilessly.

Blaine giggles and shoves at Kurt’s shoulder. “Point taken.”

"Power nap with me, jerk.  And then I’ll bake us cookies."

"Now you’re talking my language," Blaine replies, and turns over, tugging Kurt’s arm across his chest.

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