All the Other Ghosts (Boyxboy Superhero AU Fanfic (Klaine))

Chapter 8

He dreams about sheets as dark as his cloak is, spread out underneath his open white limbs. He dreams about his hands sliding up his thighs from behind, cupping and spreading them - like a flower blooming - thumbs pressing into the flesh and how soft the skin is as he mouths the faint blue lines of the veins underneath, and how Kurt's hands catch in the sheets, and how his breath catches in his throat.

And Blaine wakes up with the sort of erection that sort of hurts.

He squints his eyes closed, groans, fumbles across for the insistent alarm clock. The movement, the drag of sheets and his pyjama pants against himself, makes him grit his teeth, everything too sensitive to deal with right now, his mind a fog of what it would be like to bend his back and open his mouth for Kurt, and the bloodthrobs. And that is not going away, wishful thinking and distractions will not soften that thing or the desire behind it. Damn.

Damn damn damn damn damn damn damn.

He showers and works himself too quickly and too roughly, think about porn, think about porn, think about porn, don't think about him, think about porn. Unfortunately most of the porn in Blaine's life has been Ghost-themed fanfic which doesn't help. Think about porn and not your boyfriend. Think about porn. Think about anything but

(the way his lips part without thinking, the unconscious press of his tongue to them before he speaks, the ways he can bend himself, that suit hugging his legs arms chest ass his voice oh fuck fuck fuck)

- fuck.

Some hero.

He towels his hair off feeling miserable with guilt. He's twenty-three and it's been a while is the only excuse he has, but sometimes he thinks that if Kurt had access to his innermost thoughts then he'd do exactly what he promised the first time they ever met: haunt him, cuff him, vanish. Because Blaine - Blaine wants him, in a very honest and he thinks respectful way, he just finds him mouth-dryingly sexy and he wants him. And Kurt -

If Kurt has ever actually got so far as thinking about having sex with Blaine, he's never given any indication of it.

It's coming up to Hallowe'en and they've known each other for nearly two months, been dating in this weird way they are for nearly a month. Blaine has had a grand total of two boyfriends in his life before Kurt, and with both of them he stuck to the tried and respected third date rule, and it and worked out pretty well, for as long as it worked out. He doesn't know quite what counts as a 'date' to him and Kurt but, well, it's more than three however you slice them up by this point. Blaine is perfectly willing to take this at Kurt's pace, but - it's not just the pace. It's the reasons for the pace, which Blaine doesn't know, but which are beginning, really beginning, to worry low inside him, like something he doesn't dare to feelenough.

Kurt likes kissing him, Blaine knows that. In costume, in dark places; on the sofa in his apartment, smiling and drowsy and settled. At the door, goodnight before they reconvene in very different clothing. Kurt's hands touch him - Kurt's lovely hands, Blaine loves holding them, touching them, running his thumbs over them, soft skin and perfectly kept nails - and Kurt leans into him, and Kurt's mouth is so giving and so gifted to Blaine, anything he wants, Kurt is not a shy kisser, sucks Blaine's lip and his breath moans when Blaine presses back harder. Kurt likes kissing him. Which Blaine likes doing too and that is all very, very well and good.

Kurt still goes stiff if Blaine tries to kiss him in his bedroom.

It's the presence of the bed, he thinks. It looms in Kurt's consciousness like it's the size of the Titanic and just as deadly. If Blaine forgets he wasn't supposed to and he's already too much in Kurt's space to stop it, he keeps it at a peck, a closed-mouth press, and then backs off and changes the conversation. If the flinch makes him flinch too, he just backs off. Closes his hands together to keep them from doing anything stupid and suggests they do something or go out or anything to not be in this room with a bed in it anymore. Kurt sets the pace. It's Kurt's decision.