RATING: NC-17 Klaine
WORD COUNT: ~5250
SUMMARY: Any summary here would involve bad puns about rough roads. Draw your own conclusion. Sequel to You Can Keep Your Toys in the Drawer Tonight
DISCLAIMERS: Not mine. This part 2 of a trilogy.
There were times Kurt wasn't sure when or how his life had taken such a turn.
Usually it was in a horrible way – when had he become the boy that no one wanted to talk to, even though he swore he'd had friends in elementary school? When had he gotten so used to sitting in a hospital room and carrying on conversations with a person who couldn't answer back and probably couldn't even hear him? When had he gotten so used to being shoved into lockers that he didn't even notice bruises anymore?
There were times that the odd turn was positive – when had he started smiling this much? When had he started looking forward to school like he did?
But this...sitting in the passenger's seat of Blaine's Lexus, staring straight ahead out the windshield as he tried to ignore how painfully tight his pants were and the fact that he was literally feeling every bump in the road about four or five inches up into his ass? When the fuck had this become his life?
A week ago this would have been mortifying. Hell, an hour ago he would have said that he would have died of embarrassment over the idea of Blaine seeing him hard, even through clothes.
Blaine had seen a lot more than that, and he was still blushing at the thought, even if the image of Blaine jerking himself off in his underwear while he watched was more hot than he wanted to admit to...and even if the knowledge and anticipation of what he was going to see soon was fueling his erection quite nicely on its own.
But there were so many questions now. So many things he needed to ask but couldn't quite find a way of saying without blushing redder than his jacket.
What did this mean?
Were they dating? Because generally people who saw each other naked were probably dating if there wasn't some agreement to the contrary, right? Puck and Santana, for example, or Brittany and the entire school. But people who admitted to fantasizing about each other when they...and my hadn't that been a revelation...if they got naked together, and the only thing that was really different before between what they were doing and dating...weren't they dating?
Rather...shouldn't they start dating?
Was Blaine seriously going to say they needed to stay just friends after all this?
What precisely did Blaine do while thinking about him after being hard for most of the drive home from Lima?
Why was the drive from Lima so goddamn long?
“So what does- um,” Kurt's question was cut off by a quiet groan as he shifted a little. “What does all of this mean?”
Blaine glanced sideways at him, trying very hard to keep his eyes on the road, but Kurt could tell he was distracted. The way he gripped the wheel just a little too tightly pointed to all kinds of tension, and a quick glance downward made clear that one kind of tension in particular was probably fueling that distraction. “What does what mean?” When Kurt just gestured toward his tenting crotch, Blaine blushed – seriously blushed! - and it was kind of the most endearing thing Kurt had ever seen, which was saying a lot considering his ridiculous sappy side when it came to the Warbler. “I have no idea,” he admitted sheepishly. “I'm sorry, Kurt, I hadn't thought that far ahead. It's not as though I planned this.”
“Me neither,” Kurt pointed out softly.
They fell into an awkward silence, which was rare for them; usually they could go for hours at a stretch talking about everything and anything and never really hit that weird quiet 'I should say something but don't know what' point.
“Are you...holding up okay?” Blaine asked nervously, looking over sideways again to eye him up and down..
Kurt shivered a little under the scrutiny. “Yeah. It's okay.” Blaine nodded and looked like he wanted to ask something but was trying desperately not to – he practically had clamped his jaw together. “It feels good, actually,” he offered, and Blaine's eyes widened – then his jaw dropped slightly, which fixed that problem. “I haven't really done much with it before, and not for this long, so it's a little much, but in a really good way...you know?”
Oh god, the look on Blaine's face...he wanted to crawl into a hole and die for saying that, the way Blaine looked so genuinely surprised by the statement. Blaine hadn't been thinking that at all, had he? He'd been planning on asking something about a movie or whether Kurt might like to go to dinner sometime; he was asking after Kurt's wellbeing and here he was, talking about how nice it felt to have his ass stretched for an hour on a road that was badly in need of repaving. What kind of pervert was he?
Though, in his defense, Blaine had been the one to ask everything back at the house. Blaine had been the one practically egging him on, and now he was going to decide to be a gentleman about everything? Blaine had been the one to ask him to do it in the first place, let alone the kind of filthy whisper that got the plug into his ass like this, but noooo – he was going to pretend everything was normal and he was just a confident star who was above any of the sexual urges of this drive?
“Yeah,” Blaine breathed out in a low, husky voice that Kurt had never heard before and wondered where the fuck it came from and how to get it back. “Yeah, I bet. Is there much, um. ...motion, or just-”
“Kind of,” Kurt squeaked out. When the hell did he become a person who had this conversation? He wasn't a prude but this was a bit much. “There's vibration from the-” he shifted in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure on his cock; the conversation was somehow getting him even harder, though he hadn't known that was possible and he wasn't sure why it was having such an effect. He should be mortified. He should be wanting to move to another state and change his name and never speak of this again. Instead he was getting a little more turned on as Blaine asked him what it felt like there.
The look on Blaine's face – the kind of dreamy expression, like he wished he could feel it for himself – wasn't helping matters. Or...it was helping matters a little too much. Kurt wasn't sure yet which.
“Vibration...from the car?” Blaine concluded.
“Yeah,” Kurt panted. “And the road sometimes.” Blaine let out a primal “nnnnngg” kind of noise and Kurt swore his zipper was about to start leaving an imprint on his cock. He slid two fingers under the waistband, hoping to shift the fabric and give himself more room; instead his erection just tented higher, still straining against the zipper but in a more noticeable position this time.
And oh, did Blaine notice.
“It seemed like kind of a big plug, is it...full?” He almost whispered the question, as though it was something forbidden – something he shouldn't ask.
Kurt supposed Blaine probably shouldn't ask, but by that token they shouldn't be doing any of this. But considering what Blaine had said when suggesting this whole preposterous idea, about how he would essentially leave Kurt's, get hard thinking about him all the way home, then go do plenty of pleasurable things to himself, Kurt supposed he should try playing it up a little, right? After all, Blaine had already seen pretty much the most exposed side of Kurt he could get – unless he like, shoved a webcam up his ass or something – so he may as well see how much fun he could have in this highly unusual set of circumstances.
He clenched down on the plug, wriggled a little in his seat, and replied with a throaty moan, “Very.”
Then he burst out laughing at how ridiculous he sounded.
“What?” Blaine asked, looking over as they started driving through an area where highway gave way to main street; there was slightly more traffic and occasional lights, and Kurt tried not to blush at the idea that people could see him. They had no idea what he was doing, of course, but it still felt so...something he couldn't quite put his finger on.
“I'm sorry, but I sounded like something out of really bad porn.”
Blaine laughed softly. “Hey – give yourself some credit. You sounded like something out of halfway decent porn,” he teased.
“I just feel ridiculous,” Kurt complained, but he was smiling – he couldn't help it. The insanity of the entire thing made him feel dizzy and amazing and unspeakably dirty.
And the way Blaine was looking at him made him feel sexy as hell for reasons he couldn't fathom.
They stopped at a light – a four-way stop with no other cars at the intersection – and Blaine shifted the car into park. Leaning over, he wrapped his fingers gently around the back of Kurt's neck and stared him intently in the eye before leaning in and practically mauling Kurt's lips with his own.
Or maybe that was just how kisses were supposed to feel and the soft peck thing from movies was just a lie created by the motion picture industry. Kurt really wouldn't know, he realized distantly as Blaine moaned softly into the kiss. It was intense but not violent; hot, definitely, but oddly numbing at the same time. Though their lips parted only a fraction, nowhere near enough to get tongues involved, by the time Blaine sat back, Kurt felt as though he could barely breathe – dizzy and whimpery and harder than ever.
“You're not ridiculous,” Blaine informed him in a voice that sounded how Kurt felt, and he thought he might just die from it all. When Kurt squeaked out something that could have been gratitude or might have been interpreted as protest, Blaine gently reached over and – without taking his eyes off the road – grasped Kurt's wrist and drew it down to his crotch for the second time that afternoon. “Not at all.”
Kurt moaned softly, gingerly rubbing at the hardness there. He knew logically that it wasn't that much different from his own – he hadn't seen how it compared as far as size or shape or colour were concerned, but he knew the basics were the same...but somehow it felt completely foreign, like some new undiscovered land. It was Blaine's. The erection he was stroking through grey Dalton trousers wasn't his own, it was Blaine's and the thought of what that meant-
When Blaine moaned, he was the one causing that. When Blaine looked like he was seriously debating pulling off so they could do god-only-knows-what, he was making Blaine look like that. When the cock strained towards his hand as he stroked, he was doing that too. It felt powerful and terrifying and undeniably hot in a way that he suddenly worried whether he was ready for.
“Not while I'm driving,” Blaine groaned, shifting. “I don't want us to crash. But by all means feel free to keep doing that once we're safely there.” He hesitated, then turned for a moment to add, “Only if you want to. I didn't mean to imply you needed to- it's meant to just be returning the favour of-”
“Don't worry, I got it,” Kurt replied, his eyes wide with the possibilities that awaited when they finally – oh fucking finally – reached Blaine's bedroom.
As they drove out of town, a section of road had been stripped but not yet repaved. The car jostled suddenly downward from the even surface to the rippled one an inch or so lower. Kurt gave a startled yelp at the shift, then a loud moan. The surface was practically one long rumble strip, and with each inch forward it sent the car vibrating and humming along the road. It was as if the plug inside him had suddenly become a vibrator. He clutched at the armrest and the plastic handhold on the door, pressed flush against the back of the seat, as the sensations just increased. His moans grew almost breathless and his cock leaked and strained painfully, and when he glanced towards Blaine he saw his friend looking like he was having a very, very hard time remembering to keep his eyes on the road. Or breathe. After a section that couldn't have been any more than a hundred yards, Blaine maneuvered the car back up onto freshly-laid pavement, and the sudden smoothness after so much buzzing left Kurt half-flopped against the seat in sudden relief.
“Was that good or bad?” Blaine asked, wide-eyed.
“Incredible.” The word was out of Kurt's mouth before he could stop it, even as he panted and tried to relax. He found himself almost craving that sensation, even as uncomfortable it had been in its suddenness – needing it like stopping his strokes two pumps from orgasm, kind of needing the sensation to return.
Blaine simply nodded, swallowed hard, and stared intently at the road for about a mile before turning off sharply. “Where are we-” Kurt started to ask, but it quickly became apparent that this particular detour had more to do with the journey – and the journey's lack of good roads – than about reaching their destination.
The road was old, barely paved and rough. It didn't have the same lovely shivering sensations as the stripped one, and he started to protest, but Blaine turned left onto a gravel road and he lost all control of his voice.
The movement was a little rougher, a little less predictable, a little less perfect, but the ultimate feeling was similar enough that he let out a high gasping moan, head falling back against the seat. His entire body was vibrating, but nowhere more intensely than up his ass oh God he felt like he might die.
“Oh god, Blaine, I can't-” he moaned as the gravel road shook the entire car. It felt like his zipper was going to start causing permanent damage – or at least leave an imprint – and his cock was leaking so much it was starting to feel like his entire crotch was wet. With every second that the plug shifted inside him, the agonizing need grew by leaps and bounds.
Blaine immediately looked over at him, concerned. “Should I go back? I'm sorry, I was trying to-”
“I know exactly what you were trying to do,” Kurt replied, panting slightly. “Keep going, I just have to-” He squeezed himself as hard as he could, gasping softly at the pressure, as he tried to make himself soften just enough to undo the zipper while avoiding any kind of very painful mishaps. With awkward, fumbling hands he fished his dick out. That was a relief in and of itself, not being bent and confined and straining. He leaned back against the seat with a quiet moan and gave himself a moment to catch his breath.
He was seriously sitting in the middle of the only car he'd ever been in that cost more than his own, next to the boy he wanted desperately to date but who wanted to be just friends, with his dick just...out and hard and leaking, all while the same very, very attractive boy attempted to hit every bump in the rough road because of the way it made the plug vibrate in his ass.
When the fuck had this become his life? Why wasn't he wanting to climb into a hole somewhere (no pun intended, god that was awful) and curl up and die and have it never be spoken of again? This was ridiculous – someone could probably drive by and see them, and Blaine sure as hell could. Blaine could see every vein on his cock and every drop of precum glistening as it made its way down the head, could hear every soft gasp and moan that got caught in his throat...and he wasn't embarrassed by it.
He was aroused.
He'd never considered himself an exhibitionist, not in the least. He liked showing off certain things – his flare for fashion, his penchant for intricate costumes, his rare vocal range and exceptional control of his falsetto, his less-than-exceptional dancing abilities – but the idea of showing off this had never remotely appealed to him. Maybe because if you spend enough time getting your ass kicked for existing, even as the nonsexual gay guy, the idea of being visibly, publicly sexual seems like the most terrifying, dangerous thing in the world. Maybe because he was nervous enough about exposing far less intimate parts of himself for anyone – including Blaine – to see.
But something about this felt so hot he couldn't quite resist it.
What it came down to, he concluded, was Blaine's reaction. If the guy were any less effusively enjoying it, this would have felt a lot more mortifying. But he could see the tenting of Blaine's uniform trousers, which he knew were covering sticky, soiled underwear from when Blaine came at his house – from where Blaine had been so turned-on by watching him jerk off that he needed a cock ring (oh dear god, had he seriously handed over his own with a smirk like that? What kind of pervy demon had taken over his brain in that moment?) to keep from exploding from shifting the wrong way. He could remember the way Blaine had seriously needed to consider whether putting the ring on was worth it, just staring at him like if he tore his eyes away for a split second he would miss something important and hot. The way Blaine stared, completely transfixed, at his ass and tried to time his own motions accordingly.
Watching the guy who pretended to have it all together come completely undone like that was incredibly hot.
Let alone the part where Blaine had leaned in, hand curled around the plug that now resided in his ass, and whispered that when he used his own toys, he thought of-
He was pretty sure he would do anything Blaine asked to get more of that reaction. It made him feel lewd and vaguely perverted but in a way that felt so damn adult and gay and attractive (only one of which did he generally feel on a daily basis) that he found himself kind of craving it.
So though the idea of jerking off in a car – let alone a moving car, least of all a moving car that had another person in it (that didn't even make sense, of course the moving car would have someone else in it because there was no way he could get himself off while keeping his eyes on the road – what was it about all of this that made his intelligence just dribble out of him?)...suddenly it was all he could think of.
The relief of freeing his erection from his painfully-tight pants had been fleeting; he was still achingly hard in a way that made his hips kind of instinctively jerk, making these little embarrassing thrusting motions. He groaned as the base of the plug dragged against the seat through two layers of fabric, rocking inside of him, and he heard Blaine kind of choke on his own breathing and felt a surge of heat in the pit of his own stomach.
He had made Blaine make that noise. It was because of him. The way the boy was shifting uncomfortably even as he tried to drive was because of him, too. The delicious, heady combination of things he'd felt after the kiss, when he'd stroked Blaine for only a few seconds, was back full-force. It made him consider just how often he could get away any of this exhibitionism thing before it lost its appeal for both of them and these feelings wore off.
A part of him wanted to make this as raw as he could – not sweet and cute and innocent, but rawly sexual with an element of proud vulgarity as he could. Not jerking himself off quickly and with a sheepish look to merely bring relief to his aching hardon – no. More like...putting on a little bit of a show.
He was nothing if not an expert in faking confidence when it suited him, and he had seen enough porn to have a few ideas. And he had fantasies, after all, images that never failed to get him going, so he felt reasonably certain he could make a decent attempt at any of this.
Dear god, he wanted to try. Why did he want to try this much?
He shifted his ass towards the door, angling himself in the seat so he had a better view of Blaine without turning his head all the way. Blaine saw the move out of the corner of his eye and glanced sideways. Drawing in a deep breath that only shook a little, Kurt raised his right palm to his mouth and licked it as sexually as he could. The slurping noise was more disgusting than hot, and he tried to ignore how ridiculous it made him feel.
The way Blaine gripped the steering wheel tighter certainly helped him forget.
He reached down to run his hand slowly along his length, pausing to let his fingers trace and explore, forcing himself to take it slow. After all, it was important for any great show, for any big reveal, to have the proper build-up. If he started pumping as quickly as he wanted to – as quickly as his body was crying out for him to because it felt like he'd been hard forever – this would be over in about thirty seconds and the moment would have been wasted.
“Oh God, Kurt, are you...” Blaine groaned softly.
The throaty sound spurred on Kurt's confidence enough for him to reply in the closest thing he could to a vaguely sultry voice, “That's kind of a dumb question.”
Thank god for Eartha Kitt, was all he could say. Even though he hadn't really done her justice and still kind of felt like a complete freak for doing this at all. What was he even doing here? Was this crazy? Yeah, probably, at least a little. Maybe if he-
Blaine uncurled one hand from the steering wheel carefully, keeping a death grip with the other, and moved to press the heel of his hand hard against his crotch to calm himself down.
Apparently it was working, Kurt thought with a little surge of pride. Working almost too well – he half-expected Blaine to pull off in the nearest safe place and whip out his own; he wouldn't complain about that, not in the least. Not even if it meant having to delay the toys exhibition for a couple hours. He wanted to see Blaine's cock pointing up at his stomach, to watch as Blaine licked his hand and reached down to start pumping hard and fast and desperate and full of the need to cum now. The thought alone of watching him orgasm, of watching cum shoot from- he let out a groan at the mental image of it. He had a feeling that actually watching it, live and in person, would have him in near-white-out conditions.
Maybe he should specifically ask Blaine to pull off. After all, two could play that game, and Blaine did seem determined to try to not make Kurt uncomfortable with any of this – a little amusing and ironic after how the afternoon started.
He groaned in discomfort as they hit a pothole, his body shifting almost violently in the seat. He was about to gasp out a frustrated 'Watch the road, Blaine!', but the jolt of pleasure made him think better of it.
The object currently inside him (he felt debauched even thinking that outside the bedroom and smirked a little) wasn't shaped like a dildo, it was a plug – thick at the base, tapering to a blunt-but-narrow tip with a length of probably 4 or 5 inches; he'd never measured it and he didn't remember exactly which dimensions he'd ended up with after contemplating several models, but the bottom line was that while it made him feel stretched and just full enough, especially with all the vibrations now, it did not press constantly on every point. There was shifting. There were new places it touched when he moved.
How could he have forgotten about the potential there?
Jamming a dildo in the direction of his prostate wasn't a usual item on the menu of his jerkoff sessions for a few reasons, not the least of which was that he never managed to be able to keep a consistent angle if he tried to stroke with his right, thrust with his left, and move his hips all at once...and his fingers felt great but were just barely too short, which usually meant there was too much pressure at his opening as the rest of his fist practically tried to fit itself inside just to get his middle finger in the right position to stroke, and that took a lot of the more pleasurable side of things out of it. He'd managed to get it right a few times – that he remembered feeling incredible – but after a few too many awkward, clumsy attempts that didn't go quite so well, he realized that other things felt almost as good and with fewer unpleasant sensations to get there.
But this...with the plug still practically buzzing, and the knowledge that the plug could shift in such a way to hit the right spot exactly right?
Now it was a challenge. Operation 'oh fuck yes, do that again!' was now underway.
He rocked his hips experimentally a few times, each pass feeling like it should be close but not actually getting him there. “What are you-” Blaine asked. His voice seemed to permanently be a sexy groan now, and Kurt wondered if he could do something to ensure that was the way Blaine spoke all the time. Of course, there would be problems with that at school, if only because he didn't think he could manage to get a hall pass during every single class to go relieve himself in the restroom, but that was something he could figure out later.
“Found- unnnnng – the spot befo- oh come on- before, trying to-” He jerked and rocked his hips in such a way that it looked almost more like he was humping something above the seat, then was rewarded as he finally shifted just so and the plug was wedged up against the gland, still vibrating. He let out a started cry that turned quickly into a needy groan as he braced himself into position with the left hand and stroked as fast as he could with the right.
“Oh god,” Blaine whispered. “Kurt, you should see yourself, I can't even-”
“Almost- Oh god- Oh please don't stop the car,” he whimpered. His hand couldn't go fast enough, he needed just a little more, just that tiny bit to send him over. He heard the engine rev and felt the vibrations speed up, and he was gone. He came with an embarrassingly loud groan, spilling all over his hand, and the noise Blaine made like he wanted to just fuck him hard right then and there was the lewdest, hottest sound he'd ever heard.
He whimpered as the sensations quickly became too much, and Blaine pulled the car off, then shut off the ignition. The car was silent except for Kurt's ragged, panting breathing and Blaine's quivery inhales that sounded like he was desperately trying to maintain some degree of self-control.
“If- you want,” Kurt panted. “Since you're not driving...I'd love to watch...”
A whimpery sound caught in the back of Blaine's throat, and he mumbled, “I wouldn't last long.”
“You've been hard quite awhile,” Kurt pointed out.
“Right, just don't- Use later as a better barometer, okay?” he blushed.
“I will – I promise,” Kurt replied, his voice sleepy but hungry in the same breath. Assuming they could both get it up again, he was still eager to watch exactly what Blaine did...and they were far enough away from the house still that there was a better than even chance they'd be just fine. They were teenagers, after all.
Blaine hurriedly unfastened his pants and shimmied them – along with his soiled underwear – down to mid-thigh, his cock springing free. Kurt found himself staring at it, almost entranced, marveling at how dark it was, how heavy it looked...his mouth started to subconsciously work a little as he imagined what it might taste like. The little sigh of relief Blaine let out with each stroke was hypnotic, regular, even as his breathing grew harsh. He didn't really need any lube, already slick with precum, and he stroked quickly; Kurt realized after a few moments that Blaine seemed to be staring at his mouth, and he blushed.
The idea that Blaine was thinking about what Kurt giving him a blowjob would be like was kind of incredible...but nothing compared to the moment when Blaine reached out with his left hand to draw Kurt's right up to his mouth and began to lick it clean. Before he even had one finger done, Blaine was coming with a strangled growl of a noise, and Kurt swore that if it had been possible for him to get hard at that moment, that noise alone would have done it.
Blaine slumped a little in the driver's seat, his hand still around Kurt's wrist, and after he started breathing a little more normally he brought the hand back to his mouth and resumed licking and sucking and practically feasting on Kurt's cum-covered hand. The moaning he did- Kurt couldn't help himself, Blaine made it sound so good...he reached over and delicately grasped Blaine's right wrist, shifting closer so he could lick the pearly white from Blaine's palm. It was a little more bitter than his, probably a result of diet, but he didn't mind in the least. On the contrary; he wanted more.
When they were done and their hands thoroughly cleaned, Blaine regarded him carefully. “Do you need to take it out? The plug?”
“I'll probably be okay if we go back to main roads,” he offered, glancing around. There wasn't really a place he could remove it – even if he were willing to just pop it out in Blaine's car, there really wasn't room. He drew in a deep breath, then leaned in to whisper to Blaine with a smirk, “Besides, we've still gotta get ready for round three, right?”
Blaine whimpered and gave a shaky nod, then straightened his stance, refastened his seatbelt, and started the engine.