Disclaimer: Oh if only, if only...
Spoilers: Through 3x13. Yes, that's a year ago. I know.
Summary: Blaine is tense, and Kurt knows just how to relax him...
Author's Note: Inspired by a discussion on flaming_muse's LJ after 4x12, but contains no spoilers for that episode. (I am spoiler free for future episodes: please keep me that way!)
Thanks to pinkfairy727 for ridding me of my pesky typos :)
Kurt looks up from his calculus problem set when Blaine fidgets beside him again. Not that Blaine can usually sit still to save himself, but this is something beyond his normal energy.
“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly. “Stuck?”
Nominally, Blaine’s mom had dropped him off this morning so that Kurt could help him with the last of the catch-up work he had after his three and a half missed weeks of school. In reality, Blaine is more than capable of completing the work on his own, but studying next to each other is always better than studying alone – despite the potential for distraction – so they took the excuse gladly.
Blaine shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”
“If it’s not the work then what is it?” Kurt says, not convinced. “Because you’re not fine.” He closes his book and lets it drop to the bed beside him as he turns to face Blaine more fully.
“I’m okay, really,” Blaine insists.
“Blaine.” Kurt reaches out and rests a hand on Blaine’s leg. “You’re practically wriggling out of your skin. I know you, remember?” He smiles reassuringly. “Something’s bothering you, and I can’t help if I don’t know what it is.” Blaine’s brow furrows a little but at least he’s not pretending to be fine anymore. “Let me help?”
Blaine shrugs and slumps against the headboard. “Nothing’s really wrong, per se,” he starts slowly. “I’m just…” His hands flutter in the air in front of them. “Antsy, I guess.”
Kurt nods. It does make sense; he’s been cooped up at home or in the hospital for most of the last month. Anyone might get a little cabin fever after that.
“My brain’s kinda spinning in circles. Usually I’d just go down to the gym at the community centre and hit a punching bag for a bit when I feel like this, it usually helps,” Blaine continues. “But I’m not allowed to drive yet.”
It’s on the tip of Kurt’s tongue to offer him a ride when Blaine rolls his eyes and carries on. “Plus I sort of promised my mom I wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t… what?” Kurt asks, confused. He knows the driving ban is down to Blaine’s doctor, and Kurt can’t think of anything else that makes sense.”
“Start boxing again yet,” Blaine answers with a sigh. Kurt’s incredulity at this must show on his face because Blaine chuckles and nods as he squirms into a new position. “I know, it’s a bit crazy, but it’s my mom. She’s convinced I’m going to reinjure myself or something, despite the fact that my eye totally isn’t involved in punching a bag. She wouldn’t leave it alone until I promised I’d wait until at least after my final check-up with the surgeon and after I’m completely off any painkillers.” He throws his hands up in the air in obvious frustration. “Which is at least another two weeks away.” He sighs. “Sorry. I guess I’m going a little more batty than I thought.”
Kurt twists closer, raising a hand to rub at the tense muscles at the back of Blaine’s neck. “And there’s no changing her mind?”
Blaine shoots him a look. “Kurt, you’ve met my mother.”
Kurt has to concede the point. While her parenting style might be largely ‘hands-off’, what few interactions Kurt has had with Blaine’s mother have left him with the impression of a determined, formidable woman.
“We’ll just need to find you something else, then,” he says resolutely, eyes scanning around his room for any inspiration.
Blaine leans into him. “Like what?”
“Like…” Kurt draws out the word as he thinks frantically. A garment folded over the edge of his laundry hamper catches his eye and finally an idea occurs. It might even be a good one. “Do you think your mom would be okay with me teaching you yoga?”
Kurt parks his car in front of Blaine’s house the next afternoon and heads for the trunk as Blaine lets himself out.
“You sure you want to do this today?” Kurt had suggested waiting a couple of days when Blaine had agreed to the idea of yoga, to give Blaine a little time to settle back into the routine of school first, but Blaine had insisted he’d be fine.
“Definitely,” Blaine smiles, coming around the back of the car, bouncing on his toes.
“Okay.” Kurt hefts a small hold-all out of the trunk and slings it over his shoulder. “Then lead on.”
Blaine’s house is – as it so often is – quiet when Blaine unlocks the door and lets them in. They don’t linger in the immaculate entryway or halls, heading straight up the stairs to the comfortable familiarity of Blaine’s room.
“Right,” Kurt says, dropping the bag to the floor as soon as the door is closed behind them, letting his satchel fall on top of it. “First things first, find something comfortable that you can really move in, and put it on.” He grins over at Blaine, knowing how rare his next words will be. “Function over fashion for once - just don’t tell anyone I said that.”
Blaine turns from his dresser and puts a hand over his heart, smiling back. “I’ll take it to the grave,” he promises wryly.
While Blaine digs through a drawer, Kurt busies himself with pulling his iPod from his satchel and scrolling to find the playlist he’d transferred from his laptop the evening before after Blaine had gone home. When he drops it into the dock on Blaine’s desk, soft instrumental music fills the room; it’s very different to what he normally listens to on a day-to-day basis, but it always helps him get into the right headspace for yoga and he hopes it will do the same for Blaine.
He pointedly doesn’t look in Blaine’s direction as they both change – he may have explored Blaine’s body many times over the last few months, but he’s still not over the novelty of being allowed to do so, and he doesn’t need the distraction right now.
The last things to come out of the hold-all are two rolled mats. Kurt can’t help but grimace apologetically as he hands one to Blaine.
“The only extra mat I have is the junior one I grew out of a few years ago,” he shrugs. “So it’s probably a bit short for you too, but it’s just going to have to do for now.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Blaine says easily, flicking the bright blue rectangle of material open onto a free space on the floor. “So, where do we start?” He’s bouncing a little on his – now bare – toes again, restless energy positively emanating from him.
Kurt unrolls his own mat and does a mental run through of his planned routine. “Well, I thought we’d start with a few easy positions and just… see how we go,” Kurt says. He already knows Blaine is fairly limber, but how that will translate to yoga he has no clue. “I should probably warn you now,” he starts, as something occurs to him. “I haven’t been to an actual yoga class in a bunch of years, and I never went to them for that long in the first place, so I don’t really remember the proper names for most of the poses.”
As a slight fifteen year old, barely out to himself let alone anyone else, being the only boy in the local ‘teen yoga’ class hadn’t been the easiest atmosphere to relax in, and he’d quickly discovered he was much more comfortable practicing alone in his room with instruction from library books and the internet. “Most of them are about mountains or trees or happy little animals, from what I remember, but I’m not sure on the specifics.”
Blaine just shrugs. “With you showing me what to do it probably doesn’t matter a whole lot if I don’t know the names. I don’t need mountains or trees to be able to copy you.”
Kurt can feel the fond smile spreading across his face. “Well, exactly. Although if you ever decide to take a class you’d probably want to look them up.”
“Let’s see if I’m even any good at this before you start on about classes,” Blaine says, leading over to poke gently at Kurt’s side.
Kurt squirms away and holds his hands up in surrender. “All right, all right. Let’s get started.”
Kurt is pleased – but not overly surprised – to discover than Blaine is, in fact, pretty good at yoga for an absolute beginner. He may have complained a few times that a particular pose makes him feel a bit ridiculous, and there have been a couple so far that he can’t quite stretch into properly, but he’s still doing them, and Kurt has only had to correct him a few times on what he’s supposed to be doing in any specific position.
“Then you just sort of flex your heels up until you feel the stretch,” Kurt breathes, flat on his back with his knees more or less in his armpits. He has to crane his neck a little to see Blaine around his own limbs; when he finally manages to get Blaine into his line of vision, he doesn’t appear to be making even a token attempt to copy Kurt’s pose. He’s just staring.
“Come on, Kurt says encouragingly. “I know you could do this one.”
Blaine nods slightly but makes no move to actually do so.
Kurt frowns. “What is it?” Rocking back a little first, he rolls himself into a sitting position without letting go of his feet or unfolding his body. He can meet Blaine’s eyes much more easily from here.
Blaine’s gaze flicks over him before coming back to his face and Kurt can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard. “It’s… I…” He clears his throat. “You’re very…” His eyes drift downwards again. “…bendy. I mean, I sort of knew you were, but then you just… in those pants, and I… it’s just…” He makes a choked off sound in his throat. “Sorry.”
Kurt feels an increasingly familiar warm fluttering in the pit of his stomach and shakes his head. “No need to be sorry,” he says softly. He’s no more over the thrill of knowing Blaine wants him than he is of being able to act on his own desire for Blaine. Having all of Blaine’s attention focused on him so intently… it’s a heady feeling.
“No?” Blaine’s voice is starting to go a little rough; Kurt can feel his heart beginning to beat faster in an almost Pavlovian reaction.
He shakes his head again, all thoughts of continuing the yoga lesson rapidly dissipating. “No.”
The glint in Blaine’s eye tells Kurt what’s about to happen before it does, so by the time Blaine crashes into him – lips first – Kurt is ready for it. Blaine’s momentum sends them rolling back onto Kurt’s yoga mat, most of Blaine’s weight landing on his own elbows as he kisses Kurt enthusiastically.
There’s no gentle build up; Blaine’s mouth is hot and relentless, and Kurt kisses back just as eagerly. He can never tire of this, and there haven’t been that many opportunities for it in the last few weeks. Wrapping his arms tightly around Blaine’s back, Kurt gives himself over to their kiss completely. In this moment, nothing else matters.
The cotton of Blaine’s t-shirt is thin, but as the kiss turns messier and more desperate, even that is too much between his hands and Blaine’s skin, and Kurt scrabbles for the hem. Blaine’s back is soft and warm underneath, and Kurt hums with the pleasure of it, but it’s still not enough.
“Off,” he pants, dragging himself back from Blaine’s kiss and nudging the back of his shirt further up his back. Blaine makes a noise that might be agreement, but his face is already buried in Kurt’s neck, lips tracing the collar of Kurt’s own shirt.
“Blaine,” Kurt whines, frustrated at the thwarting of his quest to bare Blaine’s skin and trying not to be diverted by the patterns Blaine’s tongue is tracing on his skin.
“Yeah,” Blaine says against Kurt’s throat. “Yeah. Yours too.”
Blaine shifts back onto his knees to let Kurt sit up and they reach for each other simultaneously. Despite getting distracted in the middle for a kiss, they manage to coax both shirts up over their heads, but then they’re caught, arms twisted together between them in a tangle of their shirts.
A laugh bubbles up in Kurt’s chest, and his head drops against Blaine’s as he giggles softly. A moment later he can hear Blaine start to chuckle warmly against his ear.
“Okay, we can do this,” Kurt says breathlessly a long minute later, straightening up.
Blaine nods. “We can.”
With the frantic desperation waning, if not the desire, it’s the work of seconds to free themselves from the fabric and toss the bundle aside. Blaine starts to lean in but Kurt stops him with a palm against his chest. “Bed,” he says firmly, knowing that if they let themselves get carried away again now they’ll never get there – and it’s right there. “This mat is okay, but the bed would be better.”
Blaine blinks, as if he hadn’t actually noticed that they are, for all intents and purposes, on the floor. “Yes,” he says. “Bed. Definitely bed.”
They curl around each other the moment they’re settled onto the bed, fingertips tracing gentle paths across bare skin as they push the rest of the world back out. Kurt is tingling all over, the urgency in his blood beginning to re-mount, by the time he rolls Blaine onto his back, settles over him, and captures his lips in a deep, slow kiss.
It doesn’t stay slow for long, desire starting to take control again as the kiss goes on and on, tongues tangling wildly and soft caresses turning into heated grabs. Kurt squirms restlessly to line up their bodies, skin to skin from shoulder to waist, legs winding around each other.
Neither Kurt’s yoga pants nor the thin sweats Blaine had chosen hide much; Kurt can feel Blaine’s growing arousal against his thigh and the urge to rub his own into Blaine’s hip is getting unbearable.
Blaine frees him from having to make that decision, hands sliding down to cup Kurt’s ass and hips rocking up. After the agonizing tease of resisting temptation, the solid friction sends glorious sparks right up Kurt’s spine. Tossing away any pretense of control, Kurt grinds down hard, wriggling across just a little so he can feel Blaine’s cock right against his own through the thin layers of fabric.
Kurt tries to set a rhythm, but it just feels too good, so the pace is rather haphazard, each of them relying on unconscious cues from the other to stay in sync. Hands grab at whatever they can reach,; open-mouthed kisses are dropped on shoulders, jaws, mouths. Kurt tucks an ankle around Blaine’s foot; Blaine takes full advantage of the extra leverage it affords him.
The point of no return is within sight – Kurt can almost reach out and touch it – when Blaine suddenly freezes underneath him.
“Kurt… I’m…” he pants, dropping his head back into the pillows. His eyes are dark and desperate as they meet Kurt’s. “Don’t want to…”
Kurt reels and tries to pull away, tries to gather what few thoughts are making it through the fog, but Blaine’s arms are still locked around his back, keeping him close. “Blaine, what’s…?” he starts to ask, but Blaine interrupts.
“Too close,” he breathes. “Please… pants?”
The worry drains out of Kurt as he realizes the issue and he nods fervently. He’s insanely grateful for the lack of tricky fastenings on their pants as clumsy fingers scrabble at waistbands, struggling to push them down as far as possible without them having to actually separate.
He has no idea where they end up after he finally manages to kick them away, but it’s impossible to care with Blaine’s naked body against him.
“Shit, Kurt,” Blaine groans, arching up into him, the slide of flesh even better now with nothing at all between them. Kurt buries his face in the warmth of Blaine’s neck and lets his body take over.
There’s no finesse, no careful technique, just Kurt and Blaine, desperate for release and each other.
Kurt can feel Blaine spill between them with a throaty moan just as his own vision begins to white out with pleasure. He drifts for a minute, eyes closed, the feel, smell, sound of Blaine around him the only things that can reach him.
When he finally allows himself to resurface, he opens his eyes to find Blaine watching him fondly.
“I don’t know if it was the yoga or you,” he murmurs tenderly. “But I’m definitely relaxed.”
Comments/con-crit/anything that tells me anyone even read this are adored <3