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“Oh, God,” Kurt says, resting his forehead against Blaine’s. They’re still standing on the table in the middle of the McKinley courtyard, but Blaine’s not sure how much longer his knees are going to hold up if they keep kissing that way. “I’ve missed you.”
“Nnh,” Blaine thinks he says, though it’s clearly not a word. “I want to do completely unspeakable things to you, but we’re in the middle of the courtyard, where two years ago I was afraid to even hold your hand…”
“Things have changed here,” Kurt interrupts, speaking almost into Blaine’s hair. “You changed them.”
“We changed them. You broke the ground that current students like Unique and I can pave. And this is a ridiculous metaphor. And irrelevant.” The whole time he’s talking, Blaine’s hands are roaming over Kurt’s back and shoulders, and Blaine is fascinated by how muscular Kurt has become even just since Valentine’s Day. He shakes his head quickly, trying to get back on topic.
“Not irrelevant,” Kurt insists, his hands are no less busy than Blaine’s.
“OK, not irrelevant. But off topic.” Just then, the bell rings, signalling the end of second lunch. The students who remained in the courtyard, including the marching band, start packing up their things and heading inside.
“So, unspeakable things,” Kurt says. “I’m all ears.”
The way he says that, in the same tone in which he said, “I’ll see you downstairs,” the tone that Blaine calls up in his head when he’s jerking off, makes shivers run down Blaine’s spine. He leans up and licks at Kurt’s bottom lip. “But there’s a problem.”
“What’s that?” Kurt says, chasing Blaine’s lips with his own.
“They’re unspeakable.”
Kurt giggles and pulls back. The courtyard is almost empty at this point, save for a couple of the musicians, who are still packing up their instruments at the far side of the courtyard. “No fair,” he says, using that tone again. “Tell me you have a free block this period.”
“Well, yes and no,” Blaine says, walking his fingers down Kurt’s spine. “I’ve got Study Hall, because Mrs. Patterson had her baby last night. Of course that means no quiz to worry about. Seventh period I have Glee, but Mr. Schue gave Sam and me an out because of the thing I prepared. I think ‘Got to Get You Into My Life’ will count.” He pauses, having a horrible thought. “Oh, fuck. Sam.”
Kurt huffs out a breath. “Don’t you dare. Oprah contract, remember?”
“Not what I meant, and you know it,” Blaine says, running one finger into the waistband of Kurt’s pants, being as subtle as he can in case someone’s still watching.
“I’ll talk to Mr. Schue in the morning,” Kurt says. “Unspeakable things, Blaine. Tell me.”
“I was watching, you know. The way you moved your hips. I want to mark you there so badly. On each hip, so every time you walk, the rubbing of your pants will remind you.”
Kurt’s eyes fall shut for just a moment, and then he’s opening them again. “You’re one to talk. You just spent the past two minutes shaking your ass at me. I want to just sink right into you. Open you up with my fingers, my tongue, just get you open and begging. Then I want to sit back and just look at you.”
“Tease,” Blaine whimpered.
“But that’s not where I’m going to start with you, oh, no,” Kurt whispers, and it’s immediately clear to Blaine that he has lost control of this conversation. “First I’m going to take each piece of clothing off you. Starting with that tie. I’ll untie it and set it aside, then pull your shirt up. Not yet off, just up. Just enough to trap your arms and leave you unable to touch me. That will give me all the time I need to tease these.” He brushes his fingers over Blaine’s nipples, and they harden immediately.
“New York’s been good for you,” Blaine says, much as he doesn’t like to admit it.
“Shh… not done yet. When I’m ready, or when you’re begging me to stop, I’ll finish taking off your shirt. Then the tie comes back, draped just right, so that the tips brush your nipples with every movement.”
“Nngh,” Blaine says with all the force he can, given that all his oxygen is gone and all his blood has rushed south.
“Then I’ll open your belt and zipper, slowly, making you wait for me. It’s been a long time since we’ve had time to play, the opportunity to just go slow and do what we want. When I’ve got you desperate, I’ll take your pants off and let myself explore. I need to remap you, Blaine. All of my landmarks have changed.”
Blaine shivers again, picturing all the changes to his body that Kurt might find. He stuck it out in that ridiculous class that Sue was teaching over at 23 Hour Fitness until she quit to come back to McKinley, and he knows he’s got better tone in his legs since the winter because of it. And between his boxing and his time on the Cheerios he has better definition all through his upper body. “It’s going to be a long journey of exploration. Circumnavigate-the-globe length.”
Kurt surreptitiously cups Blaine through his pants and says, “I can handle any length you can.”
“Tell me your house is empty, Kurt. Please.”
“My house is totally and completely empty. And my dad and Carole won’t be back for hours.”
Blaine pulls away minutely, though not enough to move out of Kurt’s embrace, so that he can clear his lust-fogged brain for a minute to consider the implications. “I cannot tell you the enthusiasm with which I am blowing off Study Hall.”
“You can save that blowing enthusiasm for later, love,” Kurt says, and Blaine can’t tell if the frisson of want that goes through him is because of the mental picture he’s left with, the term of endearment, or both. “Let’s get out of here.”
Blaine hops off the table and runs up the stairs to where he left the picnic basket. He sends a short text to Sam -- Nightbird has the basket and its cargo -- and then quickly packs up the blanket and basket to be stowed in the back of his car. There’s nothing of the leftovers that won’t survive for a couple of hours... or even overnight.
END