Author: Rachel Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 9,200~ Summary: Blaine falls in love with the boy on the subway. Kurt falls in love with the boy on the internet. One day, their paths cross again. (based on this gifset by carson-phillips.)
To say that Kurt valued his free time would have been an understatement. It was just that there was so little of it, which couldn’t entirely be helped. There was school, his internship, work on top of that, and the amount of time he spent in his apartment was almost all consumed by sleep. He rarely saw his roommate, and usually even then it was at the diner where they both worked, but it wasn’t like he could help it – school was school, his internship was important, and his job necessary to keep him with a roof over his head. It wasn’t that he minded how busy his schedule was, because he enjoyed everything he did, but it made him value the moments when he got to sit still even more.
There was something to be said about decompression, of time spent to let his body and mind not have to think so much like it did for the rest of the day. Even that was somewhat on a schedule, though Kurt didn’t think of it like that – more like a routine.
This is entirely pureklaination’s fault and also entirely her idea, so thank her for it! Or, you know, blame her. I blame her. It makes me feel better.
A D/S fic where Kurt and Blaine are forced to go through their Sickness together in a room that they can’t get out of. They have to have sex and engage in a scene or there will be medical consequences.
Featuring: Dalton!Klaine, bottom!virgin!Kurt/top!virgin!Blaine, barebacking (but with no canon threat of sexually transmitted diseases), spanking, light pain play, light restraint, oversensitivity/multiple orgasms, self-lubricating anal sex.
Warnings: there is obviously a situational dubious consent issue here. But I wouldn’t say there is a character-driven one. Consider that before reading, though.
“Since when do we rehearse in the storage room?” Blaine asks, looking bewildered.
Kurt, who is far more used to the pranks of public school, rolls his eyes and flops down onto an over-turned crate. “Blaine.” He inspects his nails and then looks around, nose wrinkling. “They’re messing with us.”
“They didn’t tell me that April Fool’s was a Warbler’s tradition,” he answers, looking more put out by that than the fact that they are locked in a storage room.
Kurt is cranky and hasn’t eaten dinner yet and he is very sure that there isn’t a single inch of sanitary space in this entire room.
It started with deliberately obvious notes on the fridge, ridiculous flirty one-liners put there for Santana more than anything. It started with trying to make her roll her eyes as violently as possible.
During the three months after Blaine moved to New York, into the Bushwick apartment, they would look up the cheesiest quotes and lines and leave them on post-it notes for her to see every morning before she could even reach coffee. Even with their busy schedule either Kurt or Blaine always managed to leave one under the charade of it being for the other, a romantic gesture they were actually in on.
After they got their own place, it stopped being a pretense.
pureklaination requested “domestic!kink. a saturday morning spent in bed, trading kisses”.
“No,” Blaine groans, rolling over and pawing Kurt’s pajama-clad legs all the way across the bed. “No, no, no, come on–”
“We said we’d try that new jogging path this weekend,” Kurt shoots back, frowning.
Of course, they’d said that. But it’s drizzly and gray outside and there isn’t anything that Blaine wants more than to roll over into Kurt’s warm body and let his mind drift.
He rolls over onto his stomach, watching Kurt stand up. For the most part, the designer label silk pajamas have gone the way of organic groceries–they’re both college students and anything else would just be impractical.
There’s just something about Kurt in loose sweatpants and one of Blaine’s t-shirts riding up the small of his back that makes Blaine want to rip it off with his teeth.
Yesterday I asked for prompts, and here are three combined into one. suchalilyofthevalley wanted baking, pureklaination wanted Blaine working through the holiday, and dyrnekeeper wanted Christmas morning snuggles. With those ingredients, this was never going to be anything but the sweetest holiday fluff. Unbetaed, about 1800 words, rated PG, probably. Getting back into the swing of things requires baby steps.
Set sometime in the near future - maybe not quite next Christmas, but the Christmas after. Because when your life is ahead of you, what’s a few years while you wait for things to fall into place?
Proposed for during the next hiatus: Frottage and Handjobs Week! AKA “Project Not A Good Enough Reason To Use The Word Penetrate”. All the fic you write or art you produce for the Glee fandom is handjobs or dry humping AND THAT’S IT. No blowjobs no rimming no fingering no nothin’ penetrative.
I guess Cass and I are sort of spearheading this. As we feel there ought to be lots more of this sort of thing out there.
Kurt smiles, meeting Blaine’s eyes in the mirror. He’s greeted with a tired but supportive grin which looks slightly out of place in the ridiculously fancy bathroom where they’re both wearing the most expensive of suits and their hair was professionally done hours beforehand.
“The schmoozing thing, not easy.” Kurt laughs, letting his hands run under the cold water a little longer, just to have something to do.
Blaine reaches across his waist to turn the tap before taking Kurt’s hand, using it to gently turn him around so he can step between his legs. “Hey, we can go if you want to.”
Headlines in the newspaper remind Chris of the inevitability of death, the fragility of life.
Accidents happen every day. Being famous doesn’t mean you don’t die. It doesn’t mean the people love you can’t be ripped away from you.
He wakes a sweaty aching mess from a nightmare about being stuck underground and watching the world keep revolving without him. Sometimes, sometimes he forgets that it works like that. In this Hollywood castle where he’s the king and everyone is paid to revolve around him, sometimes it’s easy to forget.
So many things he can’t pay someone to control for him. He’s had so many reminds of that in the past year, losses and hurt that can’t easily be healed but he’s still living his life. He remembers that it hurts a little less every day, and if he were to just disappear - that’s how people would feel about him.
What kind of memories would he be leaving people with?
He gets in his car and drives too fast, a fuck you to the dream imagery still embedded in his mind. His headlights seem too bright, invasive on the night streets. Everything seems louder, sharper, harder.
He knocks on Darren’s door until his knuckles hurt and then Darren is there, sleepy-eyed and tousled, looking so warm and so perfect that it makes Chris want to cry.
“What-” Darren starts to ask, and then he stops because Chris’s hands are on his face and Chris’s mouth is on his.
Darren kisses back. His hands grab at Chris and he goes with it, questioning it only when Chris has stopped.
“What was that for?” Darren asks, a painfully hopeful smile on his face.
They need to talk. They need to talk about so much. Chris smiles back. “Because you only live once.”
It was Santana’s day. In the vicious circle that was their breakdown calendar, today was Santana’s. Kurt sort of wished he had grown numb to her hysterical yelling but it still resonated the same way that it had the first time one of them had cracked.
It’d been a week since he’d had a day, too drained to match either of his roommate’s anger and despair.
It’d been nineteen days since everything fell apart.
Oh gosh. I’m sorry I’m so late on making these. I’ve just been horrible at procrastination lately. But this last batch will mark 93 people I’ve Warbler-fied so far, and I have 7 people left on my list so I’m gonna meet my goal of 100 people. Woo~!
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine Rating: pg. Summary: A christmasy Downtown Abbey Klaine Au. A/N: Technically it’s a follow up to this guy but it can be read alone. More importantly, I know it’s early but yeah…this is to say thanks and Merry Christmas to Gabby (shnks) and Cass (pureklaination) the angels who inspired me to write this. *u*
They are gathered by the fireplace, lounging in plush leather seats, feet propped up on matching foot stools, glasses in hand. Kurt is sitting directly opposite the fire, has a perfect view of the amber flames, flickering and waving around the Yule log. The fireplace is decorated neatly, tastefully. Holly and ivy are draped over the mantel shelf, wrapped around white fairy lights and stockings have been pinned across the mantel. The room is cosy and warm, deathly quiet save for the crackling of wood and the gentle snuffling sighs of Miss Berry as she lays asleep in her chair to his left. It’s nearing midnight on Christmas Eve and if he were to peek out of the window, passed the tall beautifully decorated tree, he would see the first few flakes of snow dancing in the cool night air. He lifts his glass to his mouth, takes a sip and hums, the warm molten liquid tickling his throat. He loves Christmas, the comforting companionable atmosphere, the food, the décor, the newly acquired tradition.
“Mr Ummel?” A gruff voice whispers tentatively as if afraid to disturb the silence.
“Yes Mr Ander?”
He hears Mr Ander wriggling and moving before he sees him. Blaine moves to stand in front of him, hands clasped behind his back, head tipped to the side, a rogue curl having fallen loose from the gel dangling over his forehead.
“Mr Ander?” Kurt says biting back a smirk at the mischievous glint in Blaine’s eyes.
“Mr Ummel?” He mimics, shuffling closer. The room is dimly lit, the only light sources being the burning Yule log and the few candles scattered on various surfaces. Blaine is almost a silhouette as he stands before Kurt blocking the fire light, but Kurt can still make out his beautiful face, his expressive doe eyes.
(Just to let you know, I’m not a fan of StarKid. I’ve never seen any of their productions, and I only know SOME of their names because I’ve seen them on my dash. So it might not be exactly your prompt… so sorry about the inconvenience!)
Summary: Darren’s out at a StarKid reunion while Chris is sick and alone at home. Includes a panicked Darren, a supportive StarKid, and a somewhat smug Chris.
Darren missed his friends. Not that the people from Glee weren’t his friends or anything, but it’d taken him a year to consider himself part of their family.
It wasn’t like that with everyone from StarKid. When he was with them, he felt at home. Of course, the feeling wasn’t as great with them as it was with Chris, but still.