Klaine One-Shots

Skype

(First time Skype sex)

*

Hey!" Blaine sounds overly excited and he's bouncing a little in his seat.

Kurt does his best to smile. "Hey!" he tries.

"What?" Blaine asks, grin fading and calming instantly because even over skype he can tell when something's wrong. And yes, Kurt isn't hiding it quite as much as he could have; because he wants this attention.

"I miss you," he whines and he wants nothing more than to reach out and hug his boyfriend to him but Blaine's been in Europe for three weeks with his family and hugging a computer screen just seems stupid.

Blaine's expression softens, even though it's a little grainy and the picture's darker than usual and Kurt momentarily hates that. "I miss you, too."

"No, I—" Kurt cuts himself off; he knew taking the call when he did was a bad idea. But they will have to discus this eventually and Kurt just really wants to fall back into love and everything, everything, that goes with it, as soon as Blaine is home. Awkward conversations can be had here. Now.  While Kurt can't kiss him or touch him or...other things.

"I miss you," Kurt tries with the emphasis, he thinks, in the right place and eyes staring at Blaine's through the screen.

But Blaine misses it and just says back—oh god, his voice a little gooey—"I miss you."

Kurt huffs and yeah, he really shouldn't have taken the call scant few minutes after he finished jacking off and fell into a gross kind of melancholy that confused lust with love and made him wonder what the hell he was doing. But he does miss him. Emotionally and physically and he's kicking himself for not pushing Blaine into his bed and doing things before he left. And now...now.

"When you get back," Kurt says, sounding confident, self-assured even though he's cringing inwardly, "I want to do things."

Blaine stares at him, eyebrows high in surprise and then low in consideration. He looks flustered, and then fidgety, he's glancing around and Kurt has to ask: "Where are you? The picture's all dark!"

Blaine just shrugs off the question, blinks his eyes closed for a second and asks, "What kind of things?"

Now Kurt's flustered and shrugging because in three weeks, three weeks of missing Blaine's kisses and his hands on his cheeks and neck and in his hair, Kurt has managed two weeks and six days of imagining Blaine's hands on his stomach and hips, across his back, wrapped around his thighs, then his cock, fingers pressing inside his ass. God, when did that happen? Serves him right for suddenly have hours of spare time to himself every day. And teenage hormones. And a gorgeous boyfriend. Who was absent. His thoughts just ran away with him.

Not that he hadn't imagined it before. Just a little.

"What things, Kurt?" Blaine's voice makes Kurt jump and he realizes his eyes have glazed over and he's drifted.

Kurt's a little exasperated. "The things that teenage boys are meant to want to do, Blaine."

A breath rattles out of him and Kurt can see him in the ghost-white light of his screen raise a hand to press to his face and run up through his hair. "Sex things?" he asks.

Kurt shifts in his chair, pulling a leg up under him. "Yeah. Sex things."

"Sex."

Kurt purses his lips. "Well not sex, not right away."

"No," Blaine actually sounds...wistful? Thoughtful? Like he's aching a little at the idea of not sex, not right away. And Kurt secretly enjoys that because he's been aching after that idea for weeks.