Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/275596.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Glee
  Relationship:
      Blaine_Anderson/Kurt_Hummel
  Character:
      Blaine_Anderson, Kurt_Hummel
  Additional Tags:
      Clothing_Kink
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-11-11 Words: 1656
****** Just Remember Darling All the While ******
by wintercreek
Summary
     "And you're wearing my clothes," Blaine mutters into Kurt's mouth.
Notes
     Written for a prompt on the Glee Kink Meme: I want Kurt riding Blaine
     while wearing his [Blaine's] Dalton hoodie.
     Original_fill_is_here.
     Thanks to Kate for betaing! <3 All remaining infelicities are my own.
     Title is from the 1952 song You_Belong_to_Me, covered by any number
     of people.
"Kurt, what's wrong?" Blaine can't think of any reason for Kurt's hands to be
trembling. This is far from the first time they've done this, after all. And
yet they are. In fact, his whole body's shaking.
Kurt presses his lips together. "Cold," he says. "Not that there's anything we
can do about it."
Blaine frowns. "The heater really won't adjust?"
"It won't. You're welcome to try, if you think you have the special touch it
apparently needs," Kurt answers, sweeping a hand toward the ancient, rattling
climate control unit under the window.
Sighing, Blaine gets up and examines the panel on the unit. It looks
straightforward, but none of the buttons respond to his touch. He turns back to
the bed and considers it. Thin blanket, worn polyester bedspread: nothing very
effective at keeping Kurt warm, assuming he'd deign to get under the covers.
Blaine bends and picks up his hoodie. "Here."
Kurt gives him a surprised look. "That's it? You want to call it off? Blaine,
we paid good money for this ratty, possibly mite-infested motel room. I
appreciate your chivalry, but I'm sure I can—"
"Shut up," Blaine says, exasperated and affectionate. "You're cold. Put it on.
I'm not calling anything off – you'll notice that I'm not holding any pants –
but watching you shiver doesn't really do it for me."
"Oh." Kurt takes it from him and pulls it on.
It's Blaine's Dalton hoodie, royal blue with the Dalton tiger on it in white.
The tiger's in a stalking position on it but Blaine sometimes refers to it as a
tiger rampant, just in his own head, because that sounds so much cooler than a
regular tiger. It's maybe his favorite item of comfort clothing. He's always
associated it with Saturdays and holidays, first because he had a Dalton
uniform to wear and now because going to McKinley and dating Kurt means keeping
up a certain standard of attire that just does not include hoodies. And now
Kurt's wearing it, looking like Saturdays and holidays and warmth and comfort
and everything Blaine wants to run toward.
Flushing, Kurt looks over at Blaine. He's tugging awkwardly at the bottom of
the hoodie, fidgeting with it where it falls below his hip bones and catches on
the base of his cock, and the stretched out cuffs of the sleeves are loose on
his wrists. "Do I look that weird?" he asks.
"No, Kurt, you look amazing." Blaine lets his gaze trail up to Kurt's
shoulders. They're broader than Blaine's, since Kurt's last growth spurt, and
he fills out the hoodie more than Blaine does. On Blaine the shoulder seams hit
an inch down his arms; on Kurt they're perfectly proportioned, making him look
solid and masculine. "I will never understand why other people don't see you
like this," Blaine murmurs.
"Like what?" Kurt arches an eyebrow.
Blaine sits on the edge of the bed and leans toward Kurt, placing a hand on
either side of Kurt's hips. "You are so masculine," he whispers. "God, Kurt,
your frame. You're already imposing, and when you're wearing something like
this that accentuates your shoulders, you look so powerful."
Kurt moves closer until he's almost kissing Blaine. "Yeah?" he breathes over
Blaine's lips. And before Blaine can answer he presses forward the rest of the
way and kisses Blaine, hard and wet and assertive.
They bend down to the bed, Blaine laid out on his back and Kurt over him.
Blaine gets a hand on Kurt's hip and slides it up Kurt's torso, feeling smooth
skin under his palm and pilled cotton across the back of his hand. "And you're
wearing my clothes," Blaine mutters into Kurt's mouth.
"Does that do it for you, since shivering doesn't?" Kurt asks wryly.
"You have no idea," Blaine says fervently. "I had no idea, until now."
Kurt smirks. "Maybe I'll have to rethink some of my wardrobe choices." He
reaches past Blaine's head for the lube and condom lying on the bed. "May I?"
Blaine nods eagerly. "Are you still—?"
"Yes, I'm ready. I promise you, even though that wretched heating unit
interrupted us, I was good and ready before." He rolls the condom over Blaine's
cock and slicks it. Kurt kneels up over Blaine, one hand on Blaine's cock to
guide it into him, and hesitates.
"Kurt, you're killing me," Blaine whines. "Come on."
"It's just— Do you want me to take off your hoodie? I'll probably stay warm
enough, once I'm moving, and if I don't take it off it might get dirty and I
know it's your favorite," Kurt says. He bites his lip.
It's a near thing, but Blaine does not actually moan. "Keep it on. I like
seeing it on you. It makes me feel like you belong to me." He thinks he should
be embarrassed about saying that out loud – Kurt's his own man, they both know
that – but Kurt smiles wickedly.
"I do belong to you," he says, and he sinks slowly down on to Blaine's cock.
It is not the first time they've done this, or the second, or any time with a
number. They still have to sneak around. They are still a pair of high school
students, although Kurt will be a college freshman soon and Blaine is very much
looking forward to that, sex in New York City with no parents and no fear of
being recognized in a cheap motel parking lot. But they have found ways to be
together, and they have done this often enough that it's not so awkward
anymore.
Sex with Kurt will never stop surprising Blaine, though. Normally Blaine's
tempted to crane his head forward and watch, to see himself slipping deeper
into Kurt's body and out again. This time his eyes are locked on Kurt's neck,
the way it arches as he lowers himself on Blaine's cock and the way the edge of
the hoodie falls back around the vulnerable base of his throat. It's hiding the
notch in his collarbone, and it's not quite snug against Kurt's windpipe, and
the royal blue contrasts sharply with Kurt's fair skin.
"Kurt," Blaine groans. He puts his hands back on Kurt's hips, tucking them
under the fitted edge of the hoodie, and lets his forearms brush Kurt's thighs.
Blaine can feel Kurt's muscles flexing as he lifts himself up and slides back
down, controlled and tight and so, so good.
Kurt's not a talker during sex. He gasps when something particularly good
happens, and he's sometimes reduced to panting, whining desperation just before
orgasm. Tonight he's making a small noise in the back of his throat as he rides
Blaine, whining every time Blaine's cock is halfway inside him, hitting his
prostate. "I can't—" he manages. "I need my hands to balance kneeling up like
this, Blaine, please."
The angle isn't the best, but Blaine pulls one hand away from Kurt's hips and
wraps it around his cock instead, stroking it firmly. "Like that?"
"Mmm," Kurt whines, high and tight. "Faster."
Blaine works his hand faster. He wishes he'd thought to lube Kurt's cock; he'd
love to be adding a tight twist to each pull, the way Kurt's liked it before.
He can't do that as well when he's working with bare skin on skin. He lifts his
hand to his mouth and licks his palm, distracted by the exquisite tension
building in his body. Blaine's determined to make Kurt come first. He focuses
on that.
Kurt's panting outright as Blaine twists his hand over Kurt's cock. It's not
long before Kurt's motion stutters and he's coming, one long pulse on to
Blaine's bare chest followed by smaller aftershocks. Kurt somehow has enough
presence of mind to keep going, shifting in smaller movements, until Blaine's
hips snap up and he comes. They drop back down to the bed and stay there for a
moment, Kurt seated on Blaine's pelvis, breathing hard.
"Okay," Blaine says when he's got a hand ready to hold the base of the condom.
"Lift up."
"Okay," Kurt sighs. He rises slowly, one hand pulling the bottom of Blaine's
hoodie up and away from any stray fluid, and knee-walks himself to the edge of
the bed. His legs are visibly shaky. "Still the best quad workout I've ever
had," he jokes.
Blaine rolls to the side and stands, heading for the bathroom to clean up. "We
should do it more often," he calls.
When Kurt walks into the bathroom behind him, he's not wearing the hoodie
anymore. "From your lips to the ear of a deity who may or may not exist," Kurt
answers.
"Hey, wait, where's my hoodie?" Blaine asks.
"It got a little dirty," Kurt says. "I know you said you didn't mind, but I'd
like to take it home and wash it. It got sweaty, too. I was pretty warm by the
time we finished."
Blaine nods slowly. He wants to ask for his hoodie back as-is, Kurt's sweat and
come on it. He likes the idea of having something that smells like Kurt,
something to wear at night next year when the weeks are too long and they only
have Skype, but now doesn't feel like the time to ask for it.
"I thought maybe I'd wear it to school next week," Kurt adds. "You know, casual
Friday."
"But you don't do casual Friday," Blaine says, stunned. "Everyone will want to
know why you're wearing a hoodie and not, you know, a three-piece suit."
Kurt smiles. "No they won't. I'll be wearing your hoodie," he corrects. "The
Glee clubbers have all seen you wearing this at late-night movie parties. "
"And what will you tell them?" Blaine asks breathlessly.
Kurt's not wearing anything the hoodie now. But Blaine could swear he sees a
flash of royal blue, layered across Kurt's throat, as Kurt says, "I don't need
to tell them anything. They should already know that I belong to you."
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!