Title: The one where they are all porn stars. 3/3
Spoilers: None I think
Warnings: Cracky. Not!Cracky. A fic about porn that has now just turned into real porn. Woobie!Blaine.
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine, Kurt/OMC, Blaine/OMC, various other.
Summary: Kurt hadn’t exactly thought all his years of flawless skincare and strict dieting would lead to the porn industry but sometimes the Powers that Be rolled trick dice.
Last part :D I'm glad so many people seem to be enjoying it! I hope the last part lives up to the anticipation. For a silly story I wrote to distract me from the earthquakes it has really generated a lot of good response. Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing <3
After the awkward coffee date, Kurt couldn’t help but feel like Blaine was avoiding him. He was avoiding Blaine as well but that wasn’t the point, he had told Mercedes while braiding her hair before work.
“He was the one that made it so awkward,” Kurt grumbled. He pulled another strand tighter into the braid. Mercedes was all ready in her work outfit and was carefully arranging her breasts in the stiff leather. “He’s the one that should apologise. Or speak first. Or something.”
“Whatever,” Mercedes sighed. “The two of you are in a funk. It happens sometimes. You should spice things up a little. Try to work in some liquid latex.”
“We’re not in a funk,” Kurt fastened another steel pin and leaned back to admire his work. “We haven’t reach a point where we can get into a funk.”
“Please stop saying the word ‘funk’,” Tina walked out of her bedroom holding her thigh high studded boots in her hand. “I’m so over making this film. I still don’t think Schue actually knows what the word means.”
“It’s one letter off of ‘fuck’,” Kurt shrugged. “What else do you expect him to think?”
Work was lonely without Blaine. The coffee dates were halted with Blaine’s “Sorry, I think I’m allergic to caffeine,” excuse. The only interaction they had was the mounting number of scenes together on set. Kurt hadn’t had a scene with another Warbler in almost a week. They followed the script to the letter but each take Wes, David or Thad seemed frustrated or disappointed.
Blaine was sitting on the grand piano bench, leaning back on the keys with his elbows. He pressed sporadically on the keys with each squirm and the noise sounded as off key and out of sequence as Kurt felt while he teased Blaine’s entrance with his tongue.
“Cut!” Thad said and Kurt quickly drew back. Blaine pulled his legs from Kurt’s shoulders and tugged his sweater vest down to cover himself. Thad sighed and rubbed at his temples. “You two look bored.”
Blaine and Kurt sputtered. “We’re not bored!” Kurt said. “We’re fine. Blaine, put your legs up, roll the camera.”
“No, you two are done for the day I think,” Thad looked frustrated and Kurt felt at a loss. “Get some rest and, I don’t know, rehearse, find passion, paint the colours of the wind or something.”
“Don’t start,” Thad cut Blaine off. “You need to sort out your issues or I’m not sure Dalton Academy the Gargling Warblers XXX edition will be finished let alone be our crowning piece in Columbus.”
The two-man camera crew gasped but Thad just slumped his shoulders and left the room. Kurt closed his eyes and sighed while Blaine pulled his pants back on.
“Coffee?” Blaine finally said. It was one of the first non-scripted words they had exchanged outside of “Hello”, “How are you?” and “A little stiff but it’s an occupational hazard.” Kurt hadn’t managed to even roll his eyes at that one because Blaine’s delivery had been flat and weak.
“I suppose we should,” Kurt replied. “Let me shower first. The lube is starting to be uncomfortable.”
They went to the coffee shop within walking distance. The barista was new and giggled when Blaine told his usual “I like my coffee like I like my sexual partner: hot, readily available and able to get fit in my palm” joke.
They didn’t speak until they were cornered away in their usual booth. Blaine had forgotten his earlier excuse and drank his coffee with no ill effects. He refused to meet Kurt’s eye so Kurt decided it was going to up to him to save the film industry.
“Look, Blaine, if you’re embarrassed about the other day, it’s okay,” he said. He had forgone the whipped cream and he stared into his drink as he stirred it. “I think it was probably my fault anyway. I’m usually not so unprofessional and you usually bottom anyway so it’s not surprising that you aren’t used to maintaining stamina when you’re on top. I shouldn’t have suggested it. And the whole bare backing thing, I know I was okay with it but I should have asked you first. I just assumed and I really want you to know I am completely clean. Dalton has my health records if you want to check-”
“Kurt!” Blaine had to grab his hand to stop the stirring before the mocha could spill out and stain his sleeves. “I’m not upset! Seriously!”
“Then why have you been avoiding me?” Kurt decided speaking directly was the best approach. Blaine hid behind his words and euphemisms and maybe Mercedes was right. Subtle was getting him no where.
“Because,” Blaine sighed and rubbed at his jaw. He had a little too much stubble for a high school student and Kurt wondered for a moment why Thad had let that slide. “I just- I’ve never let sex get that out of hand before,” Blaine still couldn’t look at him but Kurt suddenly couldn’t look away.
“You mean a scene right?” Kurt said. “You’ve never let a scene get that out of hand. Obviously sex gets a little crazy.”
“I’ve-,” and now the back of Blaine’s neck was red and it was creeping up over his ears. “I’ve never, uh, had sex outside of a scene before.”
“With a guy,” Kurt made sure to add but his heart was beating faster.
“Well obviously I wouldn’t sleep with a girl recreationally,” Blaine snapped back a little but Kurt’s brain was too busy processing the conversation to be offended. Then he caught up to what he had said and reached to grab Blaine’s jacket lapels so violently Kurt knocked his coffee all over the table.
“You’re gay?” Kurt was certain his eyes were bulging unattractively and he was probably hurting Blaine the way he had hauled him up in his seat. The shop had gone quieter and the barista had paused to look at them. Kurt quickly let Blaine go and whispered, “You’re seriously gay?”
“You spilled your coffee,” Blaine said and started to try and mop up the hot liquid before it could run further off the table. “Help me with this before it gets on your pants.”
Kurt jumped out of the booth when Blaine said that and hurried to ask for a wet cloth from the counter. She handed it to him with narrowed eyes but Kurt didn’t really care. Between the cloth and the napkins Blaine had gotten with his muffin they contained the worst of the mess and Kurt made extra sure nothing had dripped onto his seat before sitting back down.
Calm now, he brought his coffee up to drink before he realised it was empty. He tried for a casual, “So, gay?” but judging from Blaine’s raised eyebrows he was failing.
“I thought you knew,” Blaine said uncomfortably.
“You told me everyone at Dalton was straight!”
“I said most people were straight,” Blaine shot back.
“You ignored all my best tricks!” Kurt said. “I wore my thigh-high boots and sat on your lap at dinner two weeks ago! I gave you a scented massage at work! I drank a dozen frappuccinos!”
“I thought you liked whipped cream,” Blaine was looking more and more confused. “And you said you spilled something on your chair.”
“You’re worse then Finn,” Kurt was still reeling a little. “You’re acting like Finn.” Kurt paused for a moment then gaped and pointed accusingly across the table. “Oh my God, you’re a virgin.”
“No I’m not!” and suddenly Blaine’s neck was flush again but this time it was a mix of embarrassment and indignity. “I’ll have you know, I’ve had sex one hundred and thirty-three times! With ninety-seven different people! Including you!”
“You counted?” Kurt’s brain couldn’t keep up with the conversation any more. “You’re a porn star and you’ve counted how many times you’ve had sex. Blaine, no one does that, not when they have sex in our volumes,” Kurt suddenly said, “Wait, so you sleep with girls for money? Do you count oral sex?”
“Look, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Blaine stood abruptly. “Don’t forget the nipple clamps you promised to bring or Wes will make you get them on your lunch break.”
“Blaine, wait,” Kurt hissed but Blaine was all ready across the shop. People gave him sympathetic looks as he passed them. Kurt sat there and tried to count the number of sexual partners he had but failed when he reached the age of nineteen. It was unbelievable. And suddenly all the looked, the wide bright looks Blaine gave him when he thought Kurt wasn’t looking made sense. Warbler Blaine was Blaine Blaine, Kurt swallowed hard when he realised it. And Blaine Blaine wanted a relationship.
Kurt gathered the dishes in his hands and went to take them to the counter. As he turned to leave, the light was suddenly blocked by a large shadow followed by a mountain of flannel and the nametag ‘Kent‘.
“Being gay is a perfectly valid lifestyle,” the mountain rumbled in a low voic. Several people seated nearby nodded vigorously. Kurt took a step back but walked into the counter. Kurt looked up (and up) until he saw the bearded face of a burly man belonging to the flannel and he swallowed hard.
Kurt wasn’t sure his system could handle the stress. He thought for sure his body was just going to break down right here in the middle of the coffee shop. He took a deep breath and said “I know how he feels. You see I’m also ga-”
“You shouldn’t shame someone just trying to be who they are,” Kent continued in a low voice. “Gender roles are becoming more fluid and you shouldn’t expect people with different sexualities to conform to your comfort level in a public space.”
Fluid gender roles, Kurt thought and glanced down at his outfit, to make sure the brain damage he was sustaining today hadn’t resulted in temporary anmesia. Yup, he was still wearing his white, skin-tight jeans with knee high laced up leather boots and his heather grey cashmere jacket left open to show the tight pink long sleeved tee shirt with an art deco blue rhinestone pattern. No room for ambiguity there, he had definitely thought when he put the clothes on that morning.
“All he did was express how he felt about you,” the man said again and Kurt swallowed hard. “That takes a lot of courage. He’s a better man than you’ll ever be.”
The coffee shop broke out in applause.
Blaine smiled a little too brightly at Kurt the next day at work. He greeted him like he normally would and grabbed his elbow to steer him to the dressing room like he always did. During their scene, Blaine was enthusiastic, moaning around Kurt’s cock, and looked strung out when he settled on his lap, taking Kurt deep inside with one long motion.
“Do you think of them when I’m inside you,” Kurt growled and tugged at the clamps on Blaine’s chest. “Do you think about them when you sit on my cock?” He felt a little ridiculous. It was difficult to get the proper edge to his voice and the concentration it took meant he had to let Blaine do most of the work. The camera panned in close so they could see Kurt’s face clearly over Blaine’s shoulder.
“I can’t, uhn, think of anyone, arg, when I’m with you,” Blaine panted and writhed a little. He arched into Kurt’s hands more and drove his hips down, pushing Kurt in even deeper. “It’s all you, baby.”
Dalton had sprung for real leather sofas in the senior common’s set. They creaked under Blaine’s frantic rocking. Kurt was still mostly dressed but his pants were slowly working their way down and exposing his bare skin to the leather. He felt sweat gathering at the back of his neck but it was out of concern for his ass rather than arousal.
They still had a few more minutes like this but pretty soon Kurt was going to chafe.
“Get on your knees,” Kurt managed to growl and Blaine paused. He tilted his head to glance at Kurt and looked a little surprised at the jump in script. “I’m going to make it hard for you to forget about me this time,” Kurt gave an extra hard twist to the clamps and Blaine shuddered getting back into the scene.
Blaine obediently slid onto the floor and braced his elbows against the rug. He turned to look over his shoulder and bit out, “Please, I need you, I feel so empty.”
And as Kurt followed him down, shedding his pants and unbuttoning his shirt, he realised he wasn’t going to come, not like this. Now out of the uniform and as naked as Blaine, he grabbed his hips, lined himself up and slid in. They rutted together, exchanging a few choice words that made Kurt think Wes’s authority issues sometimes bled into his writing.
After a while, his abdominal muscles burned and his thighs were straining. It wasn’t that Kurt only bottomed, or even only bottomed in one position, but because of his typecast it was his usual role. Pairing with Blaine, an infamous bottom, gave them both a chance to exchange roles but today, in this position and at this moment, Kurt could feel all the things he usually didn’t care about catching up to him. He suddenly really wanted the scene to be finished so he could head home and sink into a hot bath with Tina’s vibrating rubber ducks.
Blaine was moaning and gasping out the dialogue. He was hot, hotter than on the video, hotter than in Kurt’s mind (at night, alone, dark, wet and messy), but Kurt knew, he just knew, this wasn’t going to do it for him and they couldn’t have two botched scenes in a row.
He slid his hands up Blaine’s spine (not even sweaty) and grabbed his shoulders. He dug his fingers in the space between his shoulder blades and leaned close to his ear. He growled, puncturing his words with sharp, hard jabs of his hips, “Filthy, you’re doing this even without getting anything back.”
“I’m getting something,” Blaine panted. “Something big, believe me.”
“I’m going to come in your ass,” Kurt warned voice low and growling and now at a whisper so the camera couldn’t hear it clearly. Blaine gasped a little at the words, tensed his muscles just a little, and suddenly Kurt felt the subtle hot, red heat sparking from his fingers. Louder he said, “And you’re going to leave your mess all over the commons, let everyone see how dirty you are.”
Kurt let go of Blaine’s shoulders with one hand (red, angry marks scraped down Blaine’s chest) and quickly fondled his balls. Blaine, ever the professional, gave the camera crew time to move in as Kurt roughly stroked his cock. Then, he came all over the paisley rug. Kurt groaned, gasped and pulled the best orgasm face he could as he gave a few more hard thrusts into Blaine. After he thought enough time had passed, he relaxed and panted against Blaine’s neck. Blaine’s forehead was touching the floor.
Kurt pulled back and slapped his ass once. “See what monsieur thinks of that,” he pulled out and quickly slid the condom off his still erect penis trying to shield as best he could from the camera.. He dressed quickly and strode out of the scene.
He heard Wes call a cut through the door. He took a deep breath and adjusted himself in his pants. His erection was fading quickly, thankfully. When he thought he was ready, he opened the door again. Blaine was sitting naked and cross legged on the floor still catching his breath. He turned at the sound of the door and gave Kurt a furious look.
“I suppose we need some coffee,” Kurt sighed. Blaine nodded sharply and grabbed the robe Wes offered him. Wes looked a little taken back but Blaine stormed out, pushing Kurt a little as he left.
“I’ll fix it,” Kurt said. “I think.”
“You’d better,” Wes said. “Our budget can’t afford any more delay and, Kurt,” Wes frowned, “Blaine isn’t good at handling things like this.”
Kurt would have retorted but the look on Wes’s face (and the two men standing behind him) made him bit his tongue and just nod in agreement.
By the time Kurt showered and dressed, Blaine was all ready waiting in the lobby furiously texting. He glanced up with Kurt walked out from the back and he hadn’t lost his glare. He did pause and look Kurt’s outfit up and down a little. Yesterday had shaken Kurt a little more than he wanted to admit. He often let his clothes do the talking for him. He liked to strike a pose and have it tell a paragraph. Yesterday, when he had those people looked at him and judged him he had ended up misunderstood for the first time in his life. He wasn’t used to that. He wasn’t used to people not understanding his façade.
More than the bullying and name calling he faced in high school, it had made him feel a unsure and emasculated. So today he had made sure everyone would be able to look at him and get his entire autobiography. The deep grey sweater under the formfitting black sports jacket was a little subdued but Kurt hadn’t wanted to distract from the knee length black pleated skirt over charcoal leggings. Blaine’s eyes widened a little as his eyes hovered at where the skirt hugged Kurt’s waist.
“Give me your keys,” Kurt demanded and Blaine blinked and regained his glower. Kurt couldn’t help it, it was pretty hot, and his body was quick to remind him he hadn’t exactly finished with this man. “We are not going back to that coffee shop, not this time, and I’m not in any mood to give directions.”
“I thought you liked giving directions,” Blaine said but the words didn’t have the venom he obviously wanted them too. Kurt quirked an eyebrow and held out his hand. Blaine might be able to give sex eyes like a champion but he couldn’t intimidate a puppy. “Fine,” he reached into his jacket pocket and tossed the keys. “But you’re paying.”
“I didn’t realise you were this cheap,” Blaine grumped. “I would have paid.”
They were sitting on wobbling stools at the kitchen island in Kurt’s apartment. Mercedes and Tina were gone for at least a few more hours filming and then maybe a few more. If it had been anyone other than Blaine he might have rethought his plan. Mercedes had been opening a package that morning and tangle of leather and fuzzy zebra and cheetah print harnesses were piled on the coffee table. Tina had forgotten to do dishes again so the only clean mugs were the novelty genital shaped ones they had gotten as swag at a convention. There were three pump bottles of lube laying around and Kurt wasn’t enough going to acknowledge the lingerie hanging everywhere. Tina was doing leather repair and it usually took up the entire apartment, making it smell musty and like a barn.
“I’m not cheap,” Kurt sighed and pulled the tea ball from his mug and set it on the plate. “I just refuse to become another laughing stock in a public place. If you are going to storm out I want to make sure there are no witnesses.”
Blaine coughed a little on his own tea at the words. He set the mug down carefully and wrapped his hands around the bulging testicles as if his fingers were cold. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”
Kurt shrugged stiffly. “We should talk about what happened today.”
Blaine slumped a little deeper on his stool. “I know you didn‘t-” and there he paused and looked a little embarrassed. “You didn’t, uh, finish the scene.”
“I guess I was still a little tense from yesterday,” Kurt sighed. He crossed his legs and sipped from the vaginal lip rim. “It’s never happened before. I just didn’t want to cut and make a big deal about it. Wes and Thad all ready look like they want to fire me.”
Blaine brought the foreskin to his lips but didn’t drink. Kurt fingers aches to reach out and touch him, or something. He looked a little lost and venerable hunching over kitchen island. But he was sure it was the wrong thing to do. Wes told him to fix this. He wanted to fix this and fix it properly. Even if he didn’t know exactly what he was fixing. Or who.
“So it was because of me,” Blaine interrupted his thoughts. Then he looked up, dark eyes sad. “Did I do something wrong? Just tell me and I can do it for you. I’ll pretty much do anything,” Blaine quirked a smile but it was far from the bright, happy, carefree ones that made Kurt‘s heart thump. This one made his heart twist painfully and Kurt gripped his mug and sternly ordered his hands to stay put, Wes had charged him with something more important than his own fucking feelings. “There’s video evidence.”
“Fuck Wes,” Kurt muttered suddenly and set his drink down.
“If that‘s what you want, I guess,” Blaine trailed off but before a hurt expression could cross his face, Kurt grabbed the mug from his hands and set it on the counter as well. Then he cupped Blaine’s sharp, clean shaved jaw and tilted him up, kissing the Earl Grey taste on his lips, parting his mouth with his tongue.
Blaine made a weird squeaking noise but responded. Hand reached up to grasp Kurt’s elbows gently and unsure. Kurt balanced carefully on his chair as he slowly trailed fingers over his face, pulling his tongue back until Blaine started to chase him a little, pulling him out of his hunch and leaning into Kurt instead. Slowly, he pulled away and watched as Blaine uncrossed his eyes and swallowed thickly.
That was the look, the look Kurt had ignored and stomped on. Blaine’s expression was broken and dazed. He looked like a bird that had knocked its head on a window and suddenly all Kurt wanted to do was scoop him up and hide him away from the world.
“Kurt, can we,” Blaine’s voice was rough. It wasn’t his sex voice, Kurt had memorized that with his pitch perfect hearing. Blaine‘s sex voice was hot and desperate and vibrated directly on Kurt‘s dick. This voice also seemed to have that direct line and though it was desperate, it held a different kind of quiver. “I want to, I mean,” he swallowed, steadied and said more solidly, “I really want to stop being a virgin,” stumbling over the last word. It sounded so innocent, and Kurt couldn’t believe the first time he had seen this man Blaine had been on his knees sucking two cocks with another pushing inside of him.
Kurt couldn’t help it after that. He was a boy, Blaine was hot and had a thick chest pressed hovering just out of reach. He was hard, so much harder than he had been in the senior commons an hour earlier and when Blaine kissed him again their teeth clicked together a little. His fingers were trembling and he felt like he was going to float off unless he held on tightly to Blaine.
Stools were the wrong platform for this, Kurt tried to pull away and tell Blaine, but suddenly gravity did the speaking for him and they fell off, hard, onto the cheap kitchen tile. Kurt gasped as he cushioned Blaine‘s fall. Blaine’s knees narrowly missed catching Kurt in the groin and Kurt felt a flash of gratitude. Blaine only took a minute to recover, raking his eyes over Kurt who lay there winding, making sure he wasn’t actually hurt, before he kissed him again.
Blaine pressed himself again Kurt, pushing his denim clad erection onto Kurt’s pleated skirt. The leggings under his skirt did absolutely nothing to hid his own arousal and he could feel himself teetering the same way he had pressed against the wall in the Dalton dorm room.
“Please, please, please,” Kurt gripped Blaine’s cotton tee shirt. “I don’t want to come in this skirt. It’s Marc Jacobs, it’s a collectors item.”
“I can’t promise that,” Blaine panted and sounded a little unhinged. “But I’m pretty sure I don’t want to do this on your kitchen floor.”
Blaine had stumbled out of his jeans and shirt on the way to Kurt’s bedroom so Kurt felt a little overdressed as Blaine nervously pushed him onto the plush comforter and hovered over him in plain boxer-briefs. “Were you serious about the skirt? You can take it off if you want. I can move-”
Kurt ran his hands over Blaine’s chest and dragged his nails through his hair and Blaine shut up as soon as they brushed over his nipples. Kurt could still almost see where the clamps had been earlier and he rubbed the marks soothingly as Blaine shuddered on top of him.
“Relax,” Kurt said but he knew his voice wasn’t as confident as he wanted it to be. “It’s just like at work, only no cameras.”
“Or script,” Blaine added nervously and Kurt kissed him.
They moved slow. Kurt wiggled awkwardly out of his jacket and shirt. Blaine went to unzip the skirt but Kurt stopped him. “I was kidding Blaine,” Kurt said. “You like the skirt. I like the skirt. We can leave it.”
Blaine kissed him hard for that comment, finally letting his body relax over Kurt’s. Their hips were pressed flush again and Kurt couldn’t help but cheer internally.
They stayed like that for a while. Blaine was still, waiting for a signal or a cue and Kurt just wanted to kiss him. He ran his hands up and down Blaine’s smooth skin, working them lower and lower until they dipped into the elastic waistband and Blaine’s careful, stilted kissed finally, finally relaxed. His hands started to touch and Kurt groaned encouragingly until they became bold and then possessive.
It became dark in the room eventually. Kurt measured the passage of time by the pace of Blaine’s hands and the heat generated between the two of them. Eventually the leggings and briefs were tossed aside and Blaine nuzzled the juncture of his groin, taking his time licking the same way he had touched: slow and tentative at first, as if he had never done this, then bolder and experienced when he realised no one was going to call cut or ask him to move the fabric out of the way.
Kurt, for his part, had to force himself to lie there and let Blaine explore. He wanted to throw Blaine down and do everything to his body, but this was good. Feeling those innocent touches gain confidence made him powerful in a way he had never experienced during sex. The sounds and the touches of Blaine were familiar but somehow everything was new. Finally, Blaine flipped the skirt onto Kurt’s stomach so Kurt could see his face. His hair was wild and sweaty. His lips were red and swollen and Kurt could see his hips rubbing slow circles on the grey comforter.
“Kurt,” Blaine breathed and Kurt had never heard his voice so hoarse, so strained and that’s when Kurt upped the pace, tugging on Blaine’s hair until they met, kissing, and Kurt could taste his own sweat and musk in Blaine’s mouth.
It was a blur of uncoordinated movement as Blaine tried to straddle one of Kurt’s thighs and Kurt tried to wrap his legs around Blaine’s hips. It took a few muttered curses before they found a rhythm they both could live with. They moved together, finally in harmony for a few minutes before Blaine stiffened, bit on Kurt’s collar bone and came against the rough fabric of the skirt. Kurt reached down and started to stroke himself as Blaine dug fingernails deep into Kurt’s back.
“Gimme a’minute,” Blaine said into Kurt’s skin and it was his voice that tipped Kurt over the edge.
Blaine clutched at him, resting his face against Kurt’s chest and it took a minute before Kurt noticed the dampness.
“Please, please tell me you aren’t crying,” Kurt managed to say and Blaine furiously shook his head. His sweaty curls brushed against Kurt’s mouth. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine and held onto him tightly.
Kurt had to stop Blaine from leaving after they showered (together, slippery and way more coordinated than they had been in bed). They crawled under the sheets and Kurt grumbled about the dry cleaning bill he was going to have.
“I’m sorry about your skirt,” Blaine tried to kiss him but missed and got his chin.
“I lied, it’s Tina’s,” Kurt was bone tired. “I think it was from Hot Topic.”
Blaine stilled for a minute and said quietly, “I’ve never met Tina but I did watch the newest New Directions film. I’m going to end up in chains aren’t I?”
“She’ll probably use the padded ones if you look sad at her,” Kurt muttered. “But she likes tears so you might want to work on that.”
Blaine was apparently chatty after sex and just this once Kurt decided to try and indulge him. “Hm?”
“What are we going to do about Dalton.”
Kurt sighed and opened his eyes. “I don’t really care either way. What do you want to do? Do you want to quit?”
“Not really,” Blaine said and went quiet for a minute. “I, uh, still kind of like the cameras.”
“We can use my webcam if you really want.”
They shot the piano scene like champions the next day and David applauded before sending a quick text to Wes and Thad. Over the next week they finished up their last few scenes, including the one Kurt had been waiting for, the one where he got to storm into the French classroom and throw the (stupid, ugly tweed jacket) French teacher off Blaine and then fuck Blaine over the desk.
He adlibbed slightly, biting at Blaine’s mouth roughly, and Blaine’s lip bled a little. However, when he held Blaine’s tie tight like a leash and when he said, throat rough and hoarse from deep throating Blaine in the dressing room not because he was reaching for the right pitch, “Do you like that?” Blaine let out a shaky “Y-yes,” and Kurt came harder than even the script called for.
The wrap party was what Kurt had come to expect of the Warblers. There was a lot of polite talk and several congratulations and manly pats on the back. They played the blooper reel, which forced Kurt to shield his eyes out of embarrassment at several points, but over all the party was painless.
After a socially acceptable amount of time, Wes, David and Thad stood at the front of the room to call them all to attention for the final speeches.
“First of all, I want to thank you all for your hard work and dedication these past few weeks,” Wes said with a broad smile. “We’ve had a few delays and snags along the way but over all I feel like we have produced a quality product our customers have come to expect. We will be deciding on a cover design within the coming weeks so be sure to check your inboxes for nominations.” Then Wes nodded to Thad who was grinning.
“And for our final order of business for the XXX edition,” Thad said. “As you may have heard, the Dalton Academy Alumi Adult Films has decided to expand their cast.”
“What?” Kurt whispered to Blaine.
“It’s really prestigious,” Blaine whispered back. They were sitting on one of the leather sofas (the one Blaine had almost scored with his fingernails) and Blaine had draped his arm around Kurt’s shoulder. “They have triple the pay check and I think they even have a studio in Europe.”
“The Alumni cast members have given us their top recommendations,” David said and suddenly Kurt’s stomach dropped.
It was going to be Blaine. Blaine was going to move to Europe and be rich. He was going to have sex with thin, bendy European boys and hot, sculpted European men and Kurt was going to be stuck here having sex with old male teachers for closeted pedophiles.
“Warbler Blaine, congratulations,” Wes said and the room broad out in excited chatter and applause. The council let them continue for a few minutes then Wes frowned and called them back to order. Blaine smiled and stood up gracefully, pulling his arm away from Kurt. Kurt remained seated and tried to not cry.
“Thank you,” Blaine said, calm and polite as usual. “I want to thank everyone here for their kind support and our wonderful working relationship over the past few years. I’m proud to have been able to be a part of Dalton Academy Warblers,” then he paused and glanced back at Kurt. “However, I think I will have to decline the honour.”
This time the room buzzed and Wes immediately banged his gavel (Kurt didn’t even want to know where he had pulled it out from) to quiet the room.
“I just think the Warblers has some amazing talent and, while I trust the council to guide us in the right direction, I would like to see if we could open the vote to the room.”
The three members shared a look and then Wes gave a lopsided smirk. “What kind of vote do you propose?”
Blaine grinned and reached a hand to Kurt. “I propose a duet audition. With Kurt.”
“I’m not sure you need to actually audition-” Wes started but Blaine had all ready dropped to his knees and started to open Kurt’s Calvin Klein pants.
(And they moved to France, had much sex with themselves and bendy European boys and sculpted European men, and Mercedes and Tina visited them to tour the underground circuits in France and Amsterdam, and Kurt learned to appreciate that Blaine cried sometimes during sex and it was beautiful.)