#klainers

Hey yall that are still around!! If you’ve been folowing me you know back in 2013 I USED TO WRITE A KLAINE FANFICTION calles “Give me some salsa” and it was Latin!Blaine!!

I posted 6 chapters on Fanfiction.net and S&C (who deleted my account?)... and with the whole quarantine going on I’ve thought about continuing writing the story since I still have so much to put out for it! 

On AO3 | FF.net | Wattpad

Summary: Kurt and Blaine discuss the need of new furniture - along with memories and sex. Season 6 Spoilers. Post!Season 6.

Warnings: bit angst, but mostly fluff. Fellatio, Frottage, Prostate Massage, Married Sex.

Words: 2352.

MASTERLIST | AO3

“What was that for?” Kurt chuckles, eyes not bothering to open as his arms drape over Blaine’s shoulder once they part from their sudden kiss.

“To cherish you,” Blaine answers, “Our marriage, our new lifes in the city of our dreams.”

Kurt observes his golden eyes for a moment then cradles the back of his neck and pulls him to lock their lips. They’re breathing hard and their foreheads are touching when they pull back, but he chases his husband’s lips and they kiss lazily, sweetly and a little bit dirty again before pulling back to breathe.

“New lives as a married couple,” Kurt says softly, a smile taking his lips. “Good thing our apartment is mostly finished, huh?” Kurt opens his eyes and looks around them, his arms still encircling Blaine as Blaine doesn’t let him go either.

“Just missing a toaster, thanks to Rachel, but I think we can consider it done.

“She just had to drop it, didn’t she?” Kurt sighs and drops his head on his husband’s shoulder – a shoulder shaking with laughter that incites one from Kurt himself. “Anyway, there’s the toaster and the new couch.”

“A couch?” Blaine inquires. “But you said the one we got matches the living room patters.”

“Yeah, but…” Kurt trails off.

Once upon a time, Blane would have faced Kurt’s hesitance as lack of trust, as him not being enough for Kurt. Blaine knows better now. So he patiently awaits as his husband chooses his words.

“After we,” Kurt eventually says, waiving his hand, hoping his husband understands. As usual, Blaine does.

“Broke up,” he supplies.

“Yeah,” Kurt takes Blaine’s hand in his and threads their fingers. Both he and Blaine feel better with physical reassurance when talking about that subject. “After that, I had some trouble with the bed. As in, sleeping on it.”

Blaine furrows his eyebrows in a silent question.

If it were anyone else, Kurt would think the person was judging him. But this is Blaine, his best friend, his husband. Kurt knows Blaine is only trying to understand him better.

“I couldn’t sleep on the bed,” Kurt continues, “Memories of us would come to me, both before and during sleep. And… And when I turned around, you weren’t there,” he says. His hands tremble and Blaine grips it tighter. “I was the one who broke our engagement, I know that. But it was only a more painful because the way I felt, alone, unworthy, selfish, stupid,” Kurt closes his eyes, letting the memories of long cold – both outside and inside his body – filled his mind, “I just wanted you back, to feel your body against mine but I couldn’t. So I started sleeping on the couch.”

Blaine strokes his cheek gently with his thumb, gathering the audacious tears that escaped Kurt’s glass eyes. That is enough to ground them both.

Kurt opens his eyes and stares at melted gold.

“And I learned the importance of a comfortable couch after too many yoga sessions focused on getting rid of back kinks.”

Blaine chuckles at that.

“Let me get this straight: we’ve barely moved into our new apartment and you’re already planning of one of us sleeping on the couch?” Blaine smiles teasingly at him.

“No, of course not,” Kurt shakes his head. “I mean, I know we’ll fight and that’s completely normal.”

“It is,” Blane agrees, nodding once.

“But I also know we’ll come through it, together.” There’s a fire in Kurt’s eyes as he pronounces the words that warm Blaine’s heart.

“Stronger.”

Kurt leans in and captures his husband’s lips in a tender kiss, with threaded hands and cradled faces.

“What I want to do in the couch is something else we already do on the bedroom,” Kurt tells him.

“After all, what we do in the bedroom is great,” Blaine compliments.

Kurt’s mind goes back to this morning. Of how he was laid on the mattress with Blaine kneeling on top of him, all flustered cheeks, long eyelashes framing warm golden orbs, his sweaty, firm chest taking deep breaths, following broad shoulders attached to muscular arms with hands splayed across Kurt’s chest, who is breathing just as heavily as Blaine uses his powerful thighs to work his body up and down and up and down as Kurt holds him by his slim waist and the sounds of moaning and skin slapping against skin and lips fill the room and-

“Indeed,” Kurt focuses back on the moment he lives now.

Of course Blaine knows what his husband was thinking and laughs.

Kurt remembers where he left off.

“And as we christened every surface in this apartment, we had a bit of a problem when we did it on the couch.”

“But it’s our first couch,” Blaine says.

“And its colors do match the pattern we chose,” Kurt muses, “But please don’t tell me you’re attached to the couch because of that,” Kurt admonishes. Blaine opens his mouth to speak, but Kurt beats him to it. “Nor because we had sex in it.”

“We tried having sex on it, Kurt,” Blaine counters. “We had to move from it because it’s too narrow.”

“What I was gonna say before,” Blaine fires back with no heat, making Kurt blush, “Is that I might know the perfect place to get a new couch.”

Kurt grins at his husband.

“I knew I married a smart man. Lead the way, Mr. Anderson-Hummel.”

***

They don’t bother closing the front door once they step inside the apartment.

Instead, Kurt grabs Blaine and maneuvers his body to press against the wooden door and close it with a thump.

Their lips attach and hands grope and roam and they kick off their shoes. Blaine tugs his husband’s shirt up, freeing it from his pants – that make Kurt’s legs look like they run for miles and miles – and Blaine is already so hard, oh God.

The dark haired man sends his hands to the smooth skin on Kurt’s back. Blaine’s lips trails down to his jaw, under his ear, his neck. He sucks on the skin there.

Kurt moans loudly and reaches down to undo Blaine’s fly. He shoves Blaine’s pants and underwear down in one go. Then he does the same with his own clothing, yanking his skin-tight pants to the ground and kicking them the rest of the way. Blaine is already naked from the waist down.

He reaches out and grabs handfuls of Blaine’s ass, kneading the muscular flesh, and pulls him closer. Both men release groans when their hard erections press together.

They make quick work of buttons in shirts. Kurt has the time of his life by undoing Blaine’s bowtie and draping the soft fabric on a nearby shelf. Blaine tugs Kurt’s askot from his neck and hangs the piece of cloth where they usually keep their coats.

They’ll deal with astray clothes later.

For now, they waddle to the living room, bypassing the coffee table almost entirely – Kurt kicks it but Blaine’s strong hold maintains him upright. Kurt however uses said excuse to press his husband’s body closer to his own.

They end up falling on the couch, naked and hard and tangled and breathless.

Blaine tugs on Kurt’s leg until he straddles the shorter man, both already humping and hissing at the friction – too much but not even close enough. Not yet. Soon.

“Please tell me there’s lube on the bottom drawer,” Kurt mumbles, only parting his lips from Blaine’s to proffer the words.

Blaine reaches out and all but yanks the last drawer from the furniture standing next to the couch out. His fingers soon close around the bottle and he thrusts it up in triumph.

Kurt laughs and pulls his husband’s body so that they switch places, this time with Kurt underneath.

Blaine presses his hips down into Kurt’s. The taller man closes his eyes and moans loudly once again, until Blaine closes his lips with his own.

“Blaine, oh, oh,” Kurt breathes.

“What do you want, Kurt?” Blaine trails his lips down to his husband’s collarbone.

“I need… You.”

Kurt crosses his legs over Blaine’s waist, his feet to his butt and his knees to his lower back.

Blaine in return trails a hand down and thumbs at Kurt’s nipple, twirling it around, pressing and scratching. Kurt writhes on the couch. His other hand slots the bottle in between the couch cushions and uncaps it. He gathers some lube on his hand and rubs his fingers on his palms to warm the product.

Kurt catches a glimpse of his actions and throws his head back.

“Yes, yes, God, yes,” he says, rather desperately.

Blaine can’t help himself when a trail of smooth, pale, beautiful flesh of Kurt is on display like that. So he starts mouthing at his husband’s neck.

Blaine reaches his hand down, in between their bodies and Kurt’s legs. The auburn haired man doesn’t want to let the friction he has going on from their cocks rubbing together but he spreads his legs further to allow his husband better access.

Warm, lubed fingers touch his hole, teasing, and his legs just drop by his side.

Fuck his cock right now, he need Blaine in him. Now.

But Blaine doesn’t let his cock free. Just as he backs away a couple of inches to have a better range of motion, the hand previously playing with Kurt’s nipple fists his cock and starts stroking Kurt’s length slowly.

At the same time, Blaine presses his index finger in Kurt’s hole, pumping it in and out, timed out with his other hand.

Kurt’s hands grip his husband’s shoulder.

“More,” he whimpers.

Blaine retreats his finger but comes back with two. Kurt sighs, happy and smiling.

“More,” he demands again.

“Not yet,” Blaine disagrees.

Blaine scissors his fingers inside Kurt, stretching his tight asshole.

Kurt shudders when Blaine brushes his prostate.

“Blaine, please.”

“Just a little bit more, sweetheart,” Blaine tried. But Kurt doesn’t want to wait. He shoves his ass down, burying Blaine’s fingers inside him.

Blaine keeps scissoring him open and kissing his neck, but he stills the hand on Kurt’s cock.

“C’mo-oh-on,” Kurt complains, squeezing his shoulders.

Blaine only smirks and makes a path of wet, open-mouthed kisses down Kurt’s chest, hips and thighs. His lips completely avoid his pre-come-dripping dick, but Blaine gives an experimental lick at the sensitive skin of his balls.

“Oh, oh, oh, Blai-ine,” Kurt mumbles.

“Blaine,” Kurt almost begs, almost undone just by his husband’s hands and lips – and how talented are those, “Oh, now. Humph,’ he shoves his face in a throw pillow.

He needs more.

Blaine understands.

He adds a third digit and pumps his cock harder, slower.

Kurt moves his hips, but lingers when he doesn’t know where to press harder. Up means giving his cock the friction it seeks with Blaine’s hand. Down means Blaine’s fingers stimulating his prostate.

So he simply stars going up and down, seeking both sources of pleasure, fucking Blaine’s fist and fucking himself on Blaine’s fingers.

A couple of minutes into it and Blaine retreats his hands, making Kurt open his eyes and glare at Blaine. The dark haired man gathers more lube on his hands and lathers his own hard, leaking cock before lining it with Kurt’s hole, straighten up now so they are face to face.

He begins slowly, But Kurt moves his legs to properly pull Blaine toward him in one quick go. Both men groan as Blaine bottoms out.

His long length makes Kurt feel full, completely filled, perfect.

That is… Until a couple of seconds pass and he demands movement. They settle a rhythm only long-term lovers know, passionate but still fast enough to satisfy them both. Caring, yet completely pleasurable.

It doesn’t take long for them to become whimpering messes.

Between foreplay from before they arrived home and prepping Kurt – which is on its own a hue turn on – they are quick to hump and fuck and grab and sigh and moan and hold until Kurt’s almost, almost there.

He reaches down to touch his cock, but Blaine beats him to it. He squeezes his length, amazing, beautiful length, and starts pumping it once again timed with their movements. Kurt feels a boiling sensation on his stomach and his balls tighten and he screams as he comes, white liquid shooting up to mark his chest and Blaine’s hand.

Kurt manages to lube one finger up and he presses the tip against Blaine’s asshole. He waits for his husband’s moan before shoving the finger inside until the knuckle.

The sight of his husband completely undone, his cock disappearing between Kurt’s legs and a finger shoving his prostate, Blaine comes.

They hold each other, without moving, for a few minutes. Blaine eventually pulls out, Kurt smiling lazily as he feels Blaine’s come dripping from him, and they snuggle on the new couch.

“You were right,” Blaine says after they come down from their hypes, “The new couch was a great idea.”

Kurt grins at him. “Told you. But I still think we need to test it more.”