Aelora's Space

aelora — Mon, 14 Apr 2025 16:14:27 GMT

Are there still people around here? Things look so different...

aelora — Fri, 27 Dec 2013 17:05:11 GMT

*peeks in*

Anyone seen a download for Desolation of Smaug anywhere around??

aelora — Mon, 18 Mar 2013 18:35:24 GMT

*peers around*

Wow. People still post here and stuff.

I'm not entirely certain I remember how to work this thing...

Wanna RP?

aelora — Fri, 09 Mar 2012 14:06:11 GMT

APOCALYPTIC GLEE

MODS • RPG • OOC

Singing Won't Save Your Life

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The Glee Apocalyptic RP takes place post-“On My Way”. Early applicants will be allowed to play out their character’s feelings during the hiatus, and the aftermath of the winter finale. Once Glee returns in April, the RP will begin in earnest on Friday, April 13th, as the virus slowly spreads across the world, making its way into Lima, Ohio. It’s Glee meets The Walking Dead and World War Z, where Broadway is forgotten in the midst of the far more important necessity of simple survival.

OMG NO!! Not Davy!!!

aelora — Wed, 29 Feb 2012 18:14:11 GMT

Report: Monkees star Davy Jones dies at 66

SOBBING RIGHT NOW.

This just. NO.

Awwww!!!

aelora — Sun, 26 Feb 2012 17:26:15 GMT

Thank you to moonilicious and cassie_black12 for my blue dragons!! He's adorable!!!

*SQUISHES*

aelora — Thu, 23 Feb 2012 21:07:27 GMT

Yes, because Blaine shouldn't have anyone in his life that loves him other than Kurt.

At this point, I seriously do hope that Cooper waltzes in and suggests that they sing a duet, and that be it!

God, these same people bitch about how they can't handle storylines properly as it is, and now they're begging for an in-depth storyline of conflict that would have a total of maybe 10-15 minutes devoted to it, tops. I mean, WTF? Just so they can have another reason to bitch at the end of the episode??

Do these people even bother reading the words they're typing onto their screens?!?!

stabs things

aelora — Thu, 23 Feb 2012 15:12:52 GMT

I seriously wish so-called Blaine stans would stop bitching about the lack of character development. Also, if people refused to watch this week's episode? Then they honestly have no right to complain about lack of Blaine development because I damn well felt we got quite a bit!

Also. "Big Brother" is, by all accounts from people who claim to be in the know, very Blaine-centric.

If I can write entire posts about Blaine just from what we've seen in a few minutes onscreen in an episode, then I guarantee we're getting a good amount of Blaine development. We know a hell of a lot more about him than we do Tina, and she's been there since day one. Hell, I honestly think we know more about Blaine than we do Mercedes. Hell, we're getting a flashback to bb!Blaine next ep!! Who else have we gotten such a thing for? Finn, Rachel and Kurt. That's it. Sounds to me like they're moving Blaine into a very important position as a character on this show.

I seriously can't deal with Tumblr this week. I find I don't agree with pretty much everyone when it comes to "On My Way"--I find I'm in this awkward middle place, where I liked the episode, there was really only one moment that angered me, and I'm comfortable with what they did with both Sebastian and Karofsky. On the other hand, I'm still not a Karofsky fan, so I don't want to see him plastered everywhere. And I'll never ship Seblaine or Kurtofsky so.

I'm just sitting here, disagreeing with the people who hated the ep, and disagreeing with the people who loved the ep because of Sebastian and Karofsky. *drums fingers*

3.14 Speculation

aelora — Fri, 17 Feb 2012 22:46:42 GMT

So the thing that is standing out most to me is the fact that we've heard nothing about the third choir in the competition. We've always gotten something. This leads me to believe that maybe the third choir is from Dave's school, and maybe they're not competing because of whatever happened.

We've also seen from both performances they've released that something goes down between the Warblers and New Directions. First, rage fandom-wide over Blaine and Kurt applauding for the Warblers along with all of New Directions, including Santana who was unarguably the angriest. But now, we see Sebastian and the Warblers applauding for the Troubletones. So yeah, obviously we are missing a piece--but of course fandom will rage until the episode shuts them the fuck up--with regards to something bringing these two choirs together.

On top of that, we see Sue in the audience looking very touched by the performance.

So I'm thinking what goes down in the beginning of the episode kind of makes a lot of people step back and reevaluate what's important. With it being the winter finale, it's a good point for them to a) wrap up a lot of dangling threads, and b) begin new plot points for the last eps of the season.

Also, I think we're going to get far more Blaine scenes out of this episode than we might be expecting... Mostly because I don't see them just jumping into an episode about him without some build up.

LOL Twitter

aelora — Fri, 17 Feb 2012 19:49:08 GMT

Having a conversation with Alex Anders on Twitter about Ferris Bueller because of "Cough Syrup".

Strangest turn of events ever.

Wow

aelora — Fri, 17 Feb 2012 17:59:45 GMT

People who are not Blaine stans need to NOT speak for Blaine stans.

They need to shut up.

LOL this is what happens when I walk away from Tumblr. I need some place to bitch about these people.

(As a Blaine stan, I am actually very interested in the idea of his song being tied into Karofsky angst. One moment people are bitching that Blaine isn't tied to Karofsky and it's just Kurt. The next they bitch when he is. I give up!)

Tumblr fandom is really the worst

aelora — Fri, 17 Feb 2012 17:17:20 GMT

No, I mean it. Those people are insane.

Happy Valentine's Day!!!

aelora — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 21:27:31 GMT

A huge thanks to yuvi, voldything, whenidance and cassie_black12 for the hearts!!! You ladies are the bestest!!! ♥

And a Happy Valentine's to everyone who's still sticking around, even though I'm hardly ever here anymore. Though, I need to be just because the attitude of fandom is so much more pleasant on LJ than Tumblr. But there's such pretty gifs on Tumblr. :(

BRB Off to stare at the pic of Blaine and Cooper Anderson.

I never thought I'd see the day

aelora — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 15:00:09 GMT

...when a fandom actually has just as many condescending, pretentious, know-it-all fans as the Star Trek fandom. But lately? The Glee fandom (specifically certain pockets in the Klaine fandom) has wandered into that territory.

Never, in any fandom I've participated in--and god, there have been a LOT--have I actually seen fans refer to other fans as "entitled" or "spoilt" because of their goddamn preferences. Isn't that what the hell fandom is about--liking one thing more than another?!?

Not once in the Stargate fandom did I get told I was being "entitled and spoilt" because I wanted to see more Jack and Daniel interaction, because they were my favorites, and Jack and Sam annoyed me.

Not once in the Star Wars fandom was I told I was "entitled and spoilt" because I couldn't stand Mara Jade, and the direction most of the post-ROTJ novels took.

Not once in the Babylon 5 fandom was I told I was "entitled and spoilt" because my favorite characters were G'Kar and Londo, and I really could give fuck all about Delenn and Sheridan, the alpha couple.

Not once in the Smallville fandom was I told I was "entitled and spoilt" because I didn't like what they were doing to the Lex character or couldn't stand Clark and Lana scenes, you know, the goddamned alpha couple of the show.

Not once in the Merlin fandom have I been told I'm "entitled and spoilt" because Arthur and Merlin were my favorites, and I would have preferred the entire show just be about them and no one else--and hell, that's when most of the show is just about them!

Not once, in any of those fandoms, have I ever seen other fans--especially in the same fucking subset--deem it appropriate to dictate to fellow fans how they are and are not allowed to enjoy their show.

If you have used either the word "entitled" or "spoilt" to describe your fellow fans who simply have a preference for certain characters or pairings in fucking fandom where that thing is not only encouraged but kind of why fandom exists in the first place? Then I think you're the one who needs to take a step back and re-evaluate what the hell you're doing here.

Beta?

aelora — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 15:30:15 GMT

I need a beta(s) for the first chapter of a fic I'm writing. I’m not looking for the grammar police. But I desperately need someone to help me with the story, characterization, length, etc. This one chapter (which will probably be split into two) is 17,984 words.

There are 9 chapters planned (which at this rate could be 18).

It is Blainecentric. Everything is from Blaine’s POV—relationship, friendships, school, family, etc. It’s mostly gen because of that (and the fact that Kurt is in NYC), but there will be Klaine moments in most chapters. (And possibly very brief Blaine/someone else.)

Fic: From Body Paints to Finger Paints: An Anderson-Hummel Christmas

aelora — Sat, 24 Dec 2011 04:43:25 GMT

Title: From Body Paints to Finger Paints: An Anderson-Hummel Christmas
Word Count: 2,907
Rating: PG (For suggestive commentary… LOL)
Summary: I wanted to write Christmas fluff. The aforementioned anon asked for: Future Kurt and Blaine sneaking around on Christmas Eve pretending to be Santa Claus and trying to be quiet so as not to wake their child and be discovered. This is the result.
Notes: It’s Christmas. Therefore, too much fluff is allowed. Thanks as always to whenidance for both beta, and encouragement. (No, really, guys. You can blame her for the fluff—she encourages it constantly.)

“I thought we agreed not to get the dollhouse,” Blaine whispers over his shoulder as he makes his way carefully and quietly down the stairs in the darkness. He shifts said dollhouse in his arms, juggling it with the bags hooked over his arms filled with more gifts. “What was it you said when I wanted to get London the PS6? Oh, yes, now I remember ‘Blaine, honey, we don’t want to spoil them at such an early age’.”

“He’s three, Blaine,” Kurt responds softly behind him. “You wanted that system for yourself. I told you to ask Santa for it but no, no. For once you decided to pretend that you were mature, or something.” Maturity Kurt knows won’t last for long when Blaine opens the wrapping on the game system in the morning.

“Right.” Blaine rolls his eyes, foot slipping slightly on the last step, and he pauses, wobbling slightly as the boxes his husband is carrying press into his back. Ignoring Kurt’s resulting cuss words at Blaine’s abrupt stop, he looks over his shoulder and adds as he holds the dollhouse box up, “And you didn’t buy this because you fell in love with the… oh, how did you say it? ‘The fleur de lis design so intricately patterned over the walls on the second story’.”

Kurt sniffs, and raises his chin slightly so that Blaine can see his blue eyes glittering at him in the dark over the top of the boxes. “I overheard Lainey telling her uncle Finn the other day that if she had to give up every gingerbread cookie for the rest of her life for that dollhouse, she absolutely would do so.” He shoves the boxes into Blaine’s back, indicating for him to keep walking. “And considering she gets her eating habits from you, I think you know what a declaration like that means.”

Blaine’s brow furrows as he steps off the stairs and angles past the couch into the living room. “All the gingerbread cookies ever? I’m not even certain sex is worth that…. Ow!” He nearly drops the dollhouse as he reaches up to rub the side of his head that Kurt had smacked on his way past him to the tree. “What was that for? You know I’m kidding. Even food is worth sacrificing for sex.”

“You’re getting loud,” Kurt whispers over his shoulder as he sets his load of boxes down and turns to waggle a finger at Blaine. “We don’t want to take the chance and wake them, do we? You look nothing like Santa Claus, and my days of dressing as an elf ended after that Christmas party my senior year in college.”

“That was a good party.” Blaine sighs happily as he quietly places the gifts in his arms on the floor, and turns toward the end table, smiling as he spies the plate of cookies and glass of chocolate milk. “Sometimes I think Laine and London are onto us. How many kids know to put chocolate milk out for Santa?” He asks as he lifts the glass up to take a sip. “Oh! And she included some of the rum balls. Good girl!”

“Blaine.”

He turns, a couple of rum balls in hand to find his husband giving him one of those looks, arms akimbo, eyebrows arched sharply. “What?” Blaine grins as he tosses one of the candies into his mouth and takes another sip of milk before placing the glass back on the table.

“The presents.” Kurt waves his hands over the bags and boxes scattered at his feet. “You can eat when we’re done. I’ll even let you eat cookies in bed.”

“I love it when you’re filled with the holiday spirit. I love it even more when I’m filled with—“

“Blaine.”

“What? I was going to say Christmas cookies,” Blaine says innocently. He waggles his eyebrows at Kurt. “Why? What did you think I was going to say? Dirty old man.”

“Call me old again, and you’ll be eating those cookies while sleeping on the couch.” Kurt kneels beside the bags, smoothing the silk of his robe over his pajama pants before reaching in to begin removing presents. He pauses for a moment before sighing louder than necessary as he reaches in and pulls out one of the gifts inside. “A football, Blaine? Really?”

“You’re just going to have to deal with the fact that our son loves football,” Blaine says, picking up the dollhouse and stepping over the tree, where he pauses as he determines where to set it.

“He’s three, Blaine. This football is the size of his head.”

“He’ll grow into it.”

Kurt sighs again, shaking his head, a smile twitching on his lips as he sets the gift beneath the tree. “And the only reason he seems to love football is because he loves to mimic Daddy. If you were sitting on the couch every Sunday, cheering for Deadliest Catch, he’d love fishing instead of football.”

“Grandpa Burt tried that the last time we were visiting,” Blaine points out, pulling a stuffed T-Rex from one of the bags and hugging it to his chest before placing it in a standing position beneath the tree. “Lonnie saw the fisherman pull the hook from a salmon’s mouth and ran from the room screaming.”

Kurt snorts with suppressed laughter. “God, I think I did the exact same thing the first time my dad tried to make me watch it.”

“I still think this is the most adorable thing in the history of all things adorable,” Blaine says as he pulls the fuchsia zebra print tutu from a bag and holds it up. “When you first described it to me, I thought it had to be the most hideous thing ever. But the other little ballerinas are going to be pea green with envy.”

“Since when would I ever make our daughter wear something hideous? And did you really just quote Scarlett O’Hara?”

“Gone with the Wind is a holiday classic.”

“The Wizard of Oz is a holiday classic. Gone with the Wind is just your excuse to stare at Ashley Wilkes and pretend you’re Rhett Butler.”

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t—“

“How many cookies did you have after dinner?” Kurt asks with a sigh as he gazes up at his husband from the floor.

Blaine grins and leans down to press a kiss on the top of Kurt’s head. “Come on. You know Ashley and Rhett would have made a far more interesting couple than Rhett and Scarlett.”

Nodding slightly in agreement, Kurt pulls the box of finger painting supplies from another bag beside him and lets out a small laugh. “This gift is still the worst idea ever.”

Blaine leans around the tree to see what he’s talking about and his eyes widen. “It’s the best idea ever!”

Kurt shakes his head as he tucks it beneath the tree next to T-Rex. “At least it claims that the paint is easy to wash out.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much. Laine and London are both fairly neat. And they never color outside the lines.”

“It’s not the kids I’m worried about,” Kurt replies as he attempts to hide a smile, and fails miserably. He glances up to see Blaine sticking his tongue out at him from between the branches. “Or, at least, not the little kids.”

“I’m a champion finger painter, I’ll have you know.” Blaine kneels beside Kurt where he pulls out the box with My First Computer, and lays it gently against the silver and gold tree skirt. “Case in point, those finger paints Rachel gave us for our first year anniversary I created a work of art with!”

“As I remember correctly, the purple took two weeks to wash off of my dick,” Kurt whispers, glancing toward the staircase as he does so, just to make certain it’s empty of tiny ears. “And my arms broke out in hives from the red.”

Blaine gives a visible shudder. “Thank god I hate the flavor of cherry. Though I swear parts of my tongue are still purple…”

“And I cannot believe we are discussing this beneath our family Christmas tree as we set out our children’s toys. What would Santa think?”

Lifting his gaze up at the tree with its sparkling colorful lights winking between the haphazard placement of every kind of ornament imaginable, a red and green paperchain, half-eaten caramel popcorn string and tinsel that somehow gets tracked all over the house (Blaine found a thread of it in the cheese drawer the other night), Blaine smiles and reaches up to touch one of the Baby’s First Christmas ornaments that hang from the branches.

“Remember our first Christmas in New York? I think right around this time that night I was on my hands and knees on the tree skirt as you—“

Kurt places his hand over Blaine’s mouth, shushing him. “To be fair, that tree skirt was far too big for our first tree. It did come in handy for other… activities.” He smiles, cheeks flushing as he pulls his hand away and his husband leans over to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I think of that Christmas all of the time. Our little two foot tree, skating at Rockefeller Center—“

“Where you proposed to me on the ice.”

“How could I not? Everything was so romantic with the trees and the lights and the music,” Kurt looks over at Blaine, laughing softly as he adds, “and you, sprawled on your back, looking up at me and swearing that you used to be a fantastic skater. I knew right then I had to marry you. Nothing else mattered.”

Setting the last of the gifts beneath the tree, Blaine tucks the empty bag into a larger empty bag, and then reaches out, wrapping his arms around Kurt and pulling him close. “Every year I think Christmas couldn’t possibly get better than the last, and then it does.” He places a kiss against Kurt’s forehead as his husband nuzzles his cheek against Blaine’s shoulder.

“You don’t mind our life of domesticity? The lack of sex marathons beneath the tree?”

“The lack of pine needles stuck to my ass cheeks,” Blaine adds, feeling Kurt shake with silent laughter against him. “Absolutely not. I have nothing but fabulous memories of our years alone together—along with sex marathons beneath the tree, in front of the fireplace, amidst torn wrapping paper and bows—and now I’m making new and even better memories. Like the snowman the kids and I built yesterday, who apparently wasn’t complete without a McQueen scarf.”

Kurt shrugs and smiles, pressing closer to Blaine. “He needed a little color. And did you see the look on old man Carlson’s face when he realized it was covered in skulls? Priceless!”

“I knew you did that just to piss off our neighbors.”

“Well, when he stops letting that obnoxious poodle of his piss on my Lady Emma Hamiltons, I’ll stop doing everything in my power to give him a heart attack.”

Blaine pressed his face into Kurt’s hair as he giggled. “Come on. Let’s get these bags picked up. I have cookies to eat and a husband to make love to upstairs.”

“Hopefully not at the same time,” Kurt mutters as he begins to gather the bags into his arms, ignoring Blaine’s apparent interest in figuring out how to make cookies and sex work.

A creak on the floorboards above causes Kurt to freeze. He glances over at Blaine, who has likewise stilled, a cookie poised at his mouth, an armful of empty bags at his side. They stare at one another in silence at the sound of another creak, and then the footfalls of tiny feet pattering across the second story floor.

“They’re awake!” Kurt hisses. “I’m sure this is somehow your fault—the whole cookies and sex thing.”

“Place blame later!” Blaine whispers back, glancing around quickly for a place to hide. “Quick! The coat closet! Don’t forget any bags!”

“I know, I know!” Kurt dashes in a circle around the tree, almost tripping over his robe twice as he scoops up the empty bags and chases after his husband toward the hall closet.

Blaine is just pulling the door open when he whirls around, knocking Kurt with his shoulder into the door frame. “The cookies!” He exclaims softly, shoving his armful of bags into Kurt’s pile and vaulting over the couch to snatch up the glass of milk, drinking it down as hurriedly as possible while shoving the cookies into the pockets of his robe.

Once it appears that Santa truly enjoyed the libations set out for him by Laine and London with care, he grabs the folded note laying beside it and races back to the closet, sliding in beside Kurt as they tug the door almost closed. Kurt tries to pull it further but Blaine shakes his head, peering an eye through the slit and then ducking down slightly as Kurt tries to peer through as well over his head.

“Santa’s here!” London exclaims from the top of the stairs where his older sister quickly shushes him.

“Don’t be so loud!” she says in an equally loud voice. “If Papa and Daddy hear us up, they’ll take away our toys.”

“Santa’d be mad,” London argues, making his way carefully down the steps as he clings to the railing with one hand, his worn Triceratops in the other.

Laine hurries down beside him, taking his arm and guiding him the rest of the way down the steps. “You can look but you can’t play with anything, Lonnie.”

At the bottom of the staircase, Laine pauses and looks around, and Blaine and Kurt both duck back behind the door when her big hazel eyes sweep toward the closet. She stares at it a long moment before her attention is pulled away by her little brother as he sprints toward the tree.

“Laylay, look! T-Rex!” London drops Triceratops to the floor and immediately scoops up the new and apparently far more important dinosaur, hugging him to his chest in the same manner his Daddy had earlier.

“Poor Triceratops,” Blaine whispers quietly, shaking his head as he watches his son place kisses over T-Rex’s head. “You were once king of the playground. Now you’re just tomorrow’s fuel.”

Kurt pokes him hard in the ribs.

“I told you, no playing with the toys,” Laine admonishes as she attempts to pull the T-Rex from her brother’s embrace but gives up when he pouts and stomps his foot. He’s two years younger but already close to her size, so she quickly gives up. Shaking her head exasperatedly in a manner far too much like her Papa, dark curls falling over her shoulders, Laine turns away from London to inspect the empty plate and glass. “Santa ate the cookies we left for him. And took our note!”

“I wanna stay here with T-Rex,” London announces, flopping himself onto the floor.

Laine sets her hands on her hips and glares down at him. “I told you, Papa and Daddy will take away our—oh! My dollhouse!” She jumps over her brother and practically throws herself on top of the box, hugging it tightly. “I got it! I got it! I told Santa it was the only thing I wanted in the whole world and I got it!”

“Is she actually opening the damn thing?” Kurt whispers into Blaine’s ear.

Blaine winces slightly at the ripping of cardboard. “Apparently,” he whispers back, sighing a little as he leans against his husband’s chest.

“We’re stuck in a closet while our children play with their toys on Christmas!” Kurt points out as if Blaine has no idea.

“It’s okay,” Blaine says quietly, soothingly, reaching behind him to pat Kurt’s hip. “We’ve come out of the closet before. We can do it again.”

Kurt huffs in his ear. “And to think I was going to do that thing you like with my tongue…”

Blaine’s mood falls a little at that information, and he pouts, much like their son had earlier. “Maybe… they’ll fall asleep soon, and then we can sneak out?”

“One can only hope.” Kurt sighs softly, dropping his forehead against Blaine’s shoulder as they both shift slightly in an attempt to get more comfortable among the coats. “My arms are going to cramp from holding these bags. And I can’t move, or they’ll make noise.”

“Look! The walls in the bedrooms have the flowers duh leaves that Papa loves so much!” they hear Laine exclaim.

Blaine has to suppress his laughter as he feels Kurt stiffen slightly behind him.

“Our daughter just said duh instead of de.”

“She’s five, Kurt. In a few years, she’ll be speaking French as fluently and beautifully as you.”

Sighing softly, Kurt turns his head and places a gentle kiss against Blaine’s neck. “This is not how I imagined us spending Christmas Eve together.”

“Not much longer now.” Blaine peers back through the opening in the door. “I think Lonnie’s already passed out. Laine will wear herself out—oops. Nope. She’s opening the Lego set.”

Kurt giggles softly against his neck. “We’re going to be stuck in here for hours.” Sighing happily, he closes his eyes and lays his head against Blaine’s. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Anderson-Hummel.”

“And Merry Christmas to you, Mr. Anderson-Hummel,” Blaine whispers back with a smile as they both grow quiet and listen to the soft click-clack of Lego construction.

Thank you!

aelora — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 16:59:02 GMT

A very special thank you to seanmegansean for the virtual chocolate torte!! That was so sweet of you! And I'm so glad you enjoyed "Oceans". That really means a lot to me. :D

Xmas Wish List

aelora — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 17:17:01 GMT

Posting this for the exchange at beyond_dapper but this is also for my friends who ask every year, and I never know what to tell them!

1. Anything from my Amazon Wish List. It's updated. (For once...)

2. Gift cards to Victoria's Secret because I haven't bought everything in their warehouse yet.

3. Spending money for my trip to NYC in January. (Paypal account is tamela.marie@gmail.com)

4. A gift card to Drunken Fish Sushi.

5. Anything Blaine-related. Period.

6. Earrings. I can never have too many!

7. 'The One' perfume by Dolce and Gabanna.

8. Cookbooks! I love to cook!

9. The HP books. I have not read them. I'd like to now that school is done. (Don't hurt me!)

10. Gift certificates to Starbucks or Panera.

Good thoughts would be great!

aelora — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 16:42:51 GMT

Everyone please think good thoughts for yodakitty. I am taking him back into the vet tomorrow because he just doesn't want to eat anymore (well, he'll nibble at turkey leftovers), and he's drinking a whole lot of water. I'm thinking his kidneys are starting to fail, and am in a panic for what to do. I just don't know if I can afford dialysis or if it would even be the right thing to do for him.

So yeah. Please keep him in your thoughts.

Thanks!!

run by greetings

aelora — Thu, 10 Nov 2011 16:38:40 GMT

Haven't been here in a while. Just stopping by to say:

Most beautiful couple ever, Y/Y??

Me and my stupid villain issues

aelora — Mon, 17 Oct 2011 18:24:14 GMT

As in my stupid, and not the villains, who always seem to follow a certain pattern:

A) Daddy!issues
B) Family!issues
C) Just want to be loved/respected/recognized/better than you
D) Preternaturally pretty in a non-traditional way
E) Snazzy dressers
F) They make me want to hug them and feed them soup, okay???

My current villain obsession:

Thanks to Loki (oh, I wouldn't mind getting into some mischief with him!), I have watched Thor far more times over the last four days than is honestly healthy.

And so continues to my attraction to villains who might as well all be Lex. *SIGH*

*Thank the gods I don't write the Lexson verse anymore or you better believe there would be a DC/Marvel crossover coming...

Perfect pairing is perfect

aelora — Sun, 02 Oct 2011 17:55:27 GMT

No really, if you've never given Glee a try, this is why you should now.

Merlin 4.01

aelora — Sat, 01 Oct 2011 22:05:37 GMT

I have only this to say:

SDKFJLAKDFKAJSLDFJLKDJFKLDJSDLFJSDLFHLKJFHLJKAHFDKJHSFDK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PS - Everyone betrays Arthur. Everyone.

Except Merlin.

MY CREYS.

I'm supposed to be working on my research paper

aelora — Sat, 01 Oct 2011 16:43:24 GMT

KLAINE SEX!!!

KLAINE SEX!!!!!

HOW WILL FANDOM SURVIVE THIS?? HOW WILL I SURVIVE THIS???

Hell, even just the described make-out scene in the back of the car that leads to the fight scene that people observed last night... that just sounds like the best kind of fanfic ever--the acted out kind! Hands and kissing and groping and arching, and then ANGST!!!

And then.... *HYPERVENTILATING* THERE WILL BE A MAKE UP SCENE!! THAT IS PROBABLY GOING TO LEAD TO THE ACTUAL SEX!!

KLAINE IS GOING TO HAVE MAKEUP SEX ALMOST ONE YEAR TO THE DAY THAT THEY FIRST MET!!!

The gifs that will arise from this episode are going to KILL ME.

And I still want to know how everything is going to get covered--I mean, Blaine is supposed to go to Dalton, too. And there's the stuff with Sebastian (like him being shot out of a cannon?!?!), and Karofsky, and the gay bar, and there's still stuff with Finchel (WHO CARES!), and I'm sure other stuff in there somewhere that doesn't involve the two main (OMG KLAINE IS THE BETA COUPLE!!!) couples, and songs, too. I mean, surely there will be songs. BUT. BUT. KLAINE SEX. AND MAKEOUTS. AND GAY BAR DANCING. AND ANGST.

TELL ME THIS DOESN'T SOUND LIKE FANFIC!?!?!

Somebody hold me because this is my last month on earth. I will die come November 8th. Mark my words.

BRB my babies are going to have sex for their first time together, and it's going to be beautiful and sweet and they are going to be endgame and married by 30 LEGALLY and most of this is happening on my screen between my two favorite people currently in existence and I CAN'T SURVIVE MUCH MORE OF THIS.

*HYPERVENTILATING UNTIL NOVEMBER*

Fic: Forward Pass, Part Two (Klaine)

aelora — Tue, 27 Sep 2011 18:00:11 GMT

Title: Forward Pass, Part Two
Author: aelora
Rating: R
Word count: 11,719
Summary: It’s Kurt’s most dreaded time of the year--opening weekend of football season. Only this year, things are a little bit different. (Snippets of a weekend that Kurt and Blaine spend together, ie, this fic has absolutely no point whatsoever.)
A/N: This fic is for Dia, who wanted something fluffy to make the sting of junior!gate go away. I thank her for the inspiration for a fic that had stalled completely a week ago, and ended almost 12,000 words later. It’s sad to think this is the last time I will be writing these boys in the same grade. A moment of silence for the end of an era. ...........

Special thanks to my betas, oddmeants (the Kurt to my Blaine) and whenidance (the Chris to my Darren), both of whom wonder how it is I can write smut for an RP and completely freeze up when it comes to fic. Yay for having cheerleaders!

Title note: For those who aren’t familiar with American football, a forward pass means throwing the ball so that it ends up further downfield than it started. It doesn’t necessarily have to be thrown in the direction of the opponent's goal, but it must advance the ball at least slightly down the field.

Part One

The first thought that crosses Kurt’s mind as he begins to wake up is why on earth is there a crowd cheering for him? And then he hears soft whispering, the voices slowly becoming familiar as his wakefulness grows.

“Dude, that’s totally cheating.”

“It’s built into the game, therefore it’s not cheating. It’s strategic manipulation.”

“Whatever, dude. You’re a cheater. Kurt’s dating a cheater. I should have figured that’s how the Warblers got to Regionals.”

There’s silence filled with the random, fast clicking. Kurt can now tell that the crowd he heard roaring is in a video game. Blaine and Finn are obviously playing that stupid football game that Kurt has literally watched them play for hours throughout the summer. He opens one eye only to squint at the light from the television. The curtains in the living room are still closed, and the game is unbelievably bright. He sighs softly, shifting a little against the cushions as he opens both eyes.

Blaine, who is sitting on the floor in front of him, glances over his shoulder at Kurt and hits pause on the game amidst Finn’s protest. “Hey, you. We didn’t wake you, did we?”

“I don’t think so,” Kurt replies with a yawn as he reaches out to run his hand through the curls at the back of Blaine’s head. His boyfriend smiles at him as he leans back into the touch. “Why is Finn accusing you of cheating?”

“Because he’s a cheater,” Finn supplies helpfully as he sets his controller down and picks up the bowl of cereal that was perched on the armrest beside him. “Instead of Blaine Warbler we’ll just call him Blaine Cheater.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “This game has always been built for morons. It’s programmed to make it easy to win. Don’t let Finn fool you. He won the previous game by pulling the exact same cheat. He’s just talking trash at this point.”

Finn snorts from the recliner. “Please. You were talking just as much trash last game.”

“I can’t deal with either of you right now,” Kurt mutters, burrowing his face in to the cushions beneath him. It was far too early for this stuff.

“I love you too,” he hears Blaine respond with amusement before lips press against his temple. Kurt smiles at the feel of the kiss, even as he hears the game resume play.

Lifting his head, he asks, “Is my dad up yet?”

“No,” Carole answers before either Finn or Blaine as she emerges from the kitchen. She walks over as Kurt sits up and ruffles his hair. “And for that you’d better be thankful, Kurt. This is twice now in the last month I’ve caught you on the couch. I already had a talk this morning with Blaine about it—“

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his stepbrother make a slicing motion across his neck, and then he points at Kurt and silently laughs.

“But it appears you and I are going to have to have a chat later as well. For now, I won’t tell your father, but if it happens again—“

“It won’t, Carole,” Blaine responds with an emphatic push of a button that causes Finn to wail in disappointment. The game appears to be over as Blaine sets his controller to the side.

“You’re not the one I’m worried about, Blaine,” Carole replies, staring pointedly at Kurt.

“Nothing happened,” Kurt begins. “I came down here a few hours ago and Blaine was asleep. He didn’t even know—“

Carole crosses her arms over her chest. “Actually, Blaine said he woke up.”

Kurt turns to his boyfriend and swats at the back of his head. “You’re an idiot.”

Blaine pouts up at him and Kurt momentarily hates how adorable it is—it’s quite possible his boyfriend could get away with murder in front of Kurt if he played it right.

“If your dad ever finds out, it’s not Blaine who’s the idiot, Kurt,” Carole points out as she reaches for one of the blankets on the couch to begin folding them.

“It’s so cool watching someone other than me get into trouble.” Finn grins broadly before holding the edge of his cereal bowl up to his mouth to finish off the milk.

Kurt slips down onto the floor to sit beside Blaine as Carole says, “Speaking of trouble, Finn, would you like to tell me who put exactly four fries away in the refrigerator last night?”

Finn pulls the bowl away to stare up at his mother wide-eyed, and complete with milk mustache. “Uh, Blaine?”

“I think Blaine would have at least finished them off.”

Smirking slightly, Blaine leans into Kurt as Finn continues to make excuses while following his mother into the kitchen with his empty bowl. “I can’t believe you called me an idiot,” he says after a moment as Kurt slips his arm around Blaine’s shoulders, and they sit there together, sharing morning cuddles.

“Well, it was rather stupid of you,” Kurt replies, brushing the curls back from Blaine’s forehead. “I mean, there’s a time and a place to be a boy scout, and the morning after your boyfriend falls asleep on the couch with you in his parent’s house is neither the time or the place.”

“Does it help if I say she bribed me?” Blaine blinks up at him from where his head is laying against Kurt’s shoulder. “She was holding the coffee hostage. I panicked. Honestly, anyone would have broken under the pressure.”

“Why do I love you again?” Kurt asks fondly, bending his head to brush their lips together, and tasting the sweetness of some sugary cereal lingering on Blaine’s mouth. He licks at his own lips as he pulls back, pulling a face. “How do you eat something like that so early in the morning?”

“The sugar keeps me going. Like, if it ever completely leaves my system, I just stop. I collapse in a heap on the ground. It’s not pretty.”

“You’re the weirdest individual I’ve ever met.”

Blaine snorts. “Yeah, because I’m the one who spends forty-five minutes twice a day on a moisturizing routine.”

“Hey. You’re going to wish you had someday when you’re all wrinkly and I still look like I do now at sixty.”

“I’m not the one who has to kiss the wrinkly person, so,” Blaine concludes with a shrug. He giggles as Kurt jumps to his feet and reaches out to grab his hands, pulling Blaine along with him. “Where are we going?”

“To moisturize you,” Kurt explains, dragging him up the steps. “I refuse to kiss you if you’re all wrinkly, Blaine Anderson, therefore, you are going to learn how to take care of your skin beginning today.”

“You’re such a romantic, Kurt. I’m positively swooning right now.”

“Damn right you are.”

******************

“What? That call is bullshit! Oh… er, sorry, Mr. Hummel.”

Kurt glances up from the Vogue in his lap in time to see his dad roll his eyes in Blaine’s direction just before Finn launches into his own tirade over whatever the hell it was has all three of them so riled up. Sighing as Blaine drops back down to the couch beside him before he’d leapt to his feet to yell at the television, Kurt shifts slightly, tucking his feet beneath him and flipping the page. He offers a small smile as Blaine reaches over to pat his knee.

This has been going on for hours now, broken intermittently by Kurt’s mounting boredom that forces him off the couch and into the kitchen where he attempts to make snacks that are at least somewhat healthy. Unfortunately, the tray of perfectly cut vegetables that he prepared that morning after breakfast remains mostly untouched (Blaine has made the occasional attempt at a carrot here and there, which Kurt appreciates but really, what makes fattening dips and greasy chips so much more appealing than a ripe cherry tomato?). Kurt has had to smack his dad’s hand twice when he’d reached for the Doritos, and he’s mostly annoyed at Blaine, Carole and Finn for eating such unhealthy foods in front of his dad as if taunting him. He’d given one concession, allowing his dad to dip some of the vegetables into the onion dip, but that’s it.

An hour ago, Kurt disappeared into the kitchen to clean the oven. It wasn’t dirty—Carole had set the self-cleaner the night before—but Kurt has reached epic levels of boredom through two back-to-back football games, not to mention the three hours of pre-game talk on ESPN that morning that someone somewhere actually believes is absolutely necessary. He tries not to allow himself to consider the fact that there’s still an evening game to get through—he might actually lose his mind before that happens.

“Woooo!!” Carole shouts, throwing her arms up in the air as both Blaine and Finn once more jump to their feet, this time exchanging a high-five that literally involves his boyfriend leaping into the air to reach Finn’s hand. It’s adorable in that a) Blaine looks like a hobbit next to Finn, and b) that two such very different, and yet important people in Kurt’s life, have become such good friends.

Across the way, Kurt’s dad is grumbling. His team isn’t winning, and Kurt figures the louder the rest of the family celebrates, the more the grumbling will occur. It’d all be rather amusing if Kurt actually gave a damn.

Kurt has about a dozen pages dog-eared throughout the magazine of looks he knows he can manipulate into outfits that he’s certain will cause his boyfriend to trip over his own feet—and Blaine’s actually pretty damn coordinated, so getting him to trip is always a prideful accomplishment. Emitting another sigh, Kurt hugs the magazine to his chest a moment, gaze drifting to Blaine, who’s leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, attention firmly focused on the TV. He and Kurt’s dad seem to be talking about something to do with the game—their conversation holds words like ‘sacks’, ‘holding’, ‘tight end’ and ‘man-to-man coverage’–and Kurt realizes it’s time for him to leave when it all becomes rather dirty in his mind.

Figuring the lack of his presence won’t go noticed for quite some time, Kurt quietly gets up and makes his way upstairs, turning on his iPod and flopping on to the bed with notebook in hand to begin coordinating his outfits for the upcoming week. Fashion is always important, but it becomes even more so when one has their boyfriend beside them every moment of every day at school. Statements need to be made; interest needs to be cultivated just so in order to assure those occasional sneaks into empty rooms between classes. Honestly, there’s a lot more involved in having a successful relationship than Kurt could have ever previously guessed.

Kurt isn’t certain how much time has passed when Blaine is suddenly flopping on his belly beside him on the bed, reaching out to snatch his notebook away. “Outfits for the week?” He asks, glancing through the list.

“Yes.” Kurt pauses and then offers, “I can email you the list if you like, and then we can make certain to wear complementary colors.”

“We’re going to be one of those couples, aren’t we?” Blaine asks, face scrunching up adorably as he looks at Kurt. “The ones who dress alike—matching sweaters and visors and stuff.”

Kurt pulls a face, yanking the notebook away. “Bite your tongue. We both have more class than that.”

Blaine shrugs, and gives him a big and stupidly beautiful smile. “I don’t know. Sometimes it’s kind of cute. I mean like, when we’re old. At like, forty.”

Damn him, Kurt thinks. They’re totally going to be dressing alike one day.

“What’re you doing up here? Shouldn’t you be downstairs yelling profanities at the television and climbing on ladders to high-five Finn?”

Blaine’s silent for a moment. “That was actually kind of rude, Kurt.”

Crap.

“Sorry,” he says, meaning it as he quickly rolls over to trap Blaine against him before he can go anywhere. “Too much football or something. You know I’m only teasing.” Kurt presses light kisses against his boyfriend’s lips until he feels Blaine slowly begin to relax against him. “Besides, I think you’re perfect and I do try to tell you so almost daily.”

Blaine is obviously still nursing his hurt for the next few moments, and Kurt lets him, knowing what he’d said had been uncalled for, and simply the direct result of being annoyed, which he sometimes made the mistake of taking out on the last person in the world he is ever truly annoyed with. So Kurt keeps cuddling against him, tucking his head against Blaine’s shoulder to place soft kisses over his neck and up beneath his ear—a spot Kurt has learned over the summer that Blaine is particularly susceptible to being kissed. He knows things are okay when Blaine’s arms slide around his waist, pulling him closer.

“You know,” he begins quietly. “If you don’t want me watching the games, all you have to do is say so.”

“That’s not it,” Kurt responds, kissing his way across Blaine’s jaw and back to his lips. This time, Blaine’s lips part easily beneath Kurt’s, and his explanation is put on hold as they lose themselves in the taste of one another’s mouths for a long moment until he feels Blaine sigh against him softly.

Kurt pulls back just a little, hand coming up to slide along Blaine’s hip. “The games do get to be a bit much, but mostly I find myself getting a teensy bit jealous. And I know it’s unfair—I get you almost all the time now, and I should be happy with that. But we don’t get to cuddle at school the way we can here, and I can’t help it when sometimes I just want you all to myself.”

“Which is why I said you just have to tell me—“

“But that’s not the point,” Kurt cuts him off with a shake of his head. “Because I love seeing you with my family—watching you play video games with Finn and talk football with my dad and get teased by Carole about eating more than any teenage boy she’s ever met. It’s like having my cake and eating it, too.” He sighs dramatically. “I’m sadly quite selfish when it comes to you, Blaine Anderson.”

Blaine beams at him. “I find myself suffering from the same affliction.” He rolls on to his back, pulling Kurt on top of him, his arms tightening around him as if Kurt might try to get away. “Whatever will we do about it?”

“Spend so much time together we get completely sick of one another?” Kurt suggests helpfully.

“Hmmm. Somehow I don’t think that’s going to do it.”

“Oh well.” Kurt leans down and nips at Blaine’s lower lip, tugging it into his mouth for a moment before letting go. “I guess we’ll just have to spend the rest of our lives together trying, then.”

“Well, I don’t really have anything else planned that could get in the way of that. You?”

“No, not really.”

“Cool.”

They grin at each other, and Kurt’s fully aware that if anyone were watching them at that moment, they’d probably be told how ridiculous they’re being. But honestly, he doesn’t care. He loves Blaine. He fully expects to marry Blaine. And while neither of them has ever actually said the words when we’re married, it’s always been implied. They’ve browsed through wedding magazines together, discussed the best time of the year for a wedding, the merits of a DJ over a live band, actually stood outside a jewelry store in Columbus and quietly stared at rings while clinging to one another’s hand. It’s not happening tomorrow, or after high school, or even immediately after college, but it will happen. Of that Kurt is as absolutely certain as he is that his entire life changed the day Blaine Anderson turned and looked up at him from the bottom of a staircase.

“Hey, Blaine!” Finn calls out from what sounds like the top of the steps. “Halftime is over! You know, if you can pull yourself away from Kurt long enough to care…”

Kurt drops his forehead to Blaine’s shoulder with a sigh as he feels his boyfriend’s hands slide beneath his shirt and over his back. “I can stay up here. It’s not like my team is playing until tomorrow night anyway.”

“No.” Kurt shakes his head against him a moment before finally lifting it. “I am not going to have you giving up something you enjoy just to please me. That brings us right back to the whole resentment thing, and I am having none of that.” He sits up, straddling Blaine’s hips for a moment as he smiles down at him. “Go. Enjoy your football. I’ll be down in a bit to help Carole start dinner.”

Blaine leans up to capture his lips in a sweet, far too-brief kiss. “You really are the bee’s knees, Kurt Hummel.”

“Yes, well, now I just want you to go away because you used that silly expression.”

********************

After dinner, Kurt and Carole have a brief “argument” over who would be doing dishes before Kurt finally wins out (and yes, maybe just a little of his helpfulness is due to the hope she won’t say anything to his dad about his nights spent on the couch with Blaine) and successfully shoos everyone out of the kitchen to watch the Sunday night game. He hums show tunes quietly to himself as he cleans the kitchen, occasionally glancing out to the front room when something exciting enough happens to cause the four occupants to shout in either joy or rage. Kurt’s gaze lingers at one point when they’re all on their feet and his dad reaches over to place his hands on the back of Blaine’s shoulders, giving them a brief, enthusiastic squeeze. There was a time such a sight would have hurt him, and sent him into a fit of jealousy, but this is so very different. He can’t help but smile, knowing how much his family adores Blaine; seeing how Blaine positively beams at the attention he receives from them. And honestly, Kurt wouldn’t have it any other way.

When he finishes in the kitchen, Kurt flips off the light and wanders into the living room, perching on the armrest beside Blaine. His dad is snoring in the recliner, and Carole is glancing through the People magazine spread open on her lap. Finn and Blaine seem to be the only ones interested in the game at this point, and at Kurt’s appearance, Blaine’s attention immediately swings to him as they simultaneously reach out for one another’s hand.

“I could have helped you clean up, you know,” he says quietly, thumb sliding over the back of Kurt’s hand.

“And then you would have missed the beginning… and my dad actually being awake for the game,” he says in amusement as he looks over at his dad fondly.

“Dude!” Finn reaches over and slaps Blaine on the arm. “Did you see just that play?”

Blaine’s head snaps around to the TV. “What? What’d I miss?”

“Revis just intercepted Romo!”

Blaine grins, leaning forward as whatever it was that happened is played in slow-motion on the screen. “America’s team my ass,” Blaine mutters, earning agreeing laughter from Finn.

Rolling his eyes, Kurt leans over and presses a kiss to the top of Blaine’s curls before getting to his feet. He stops beside Carole, asking if he can get her anything, but she shakes her head with a smile and thanks, reaching out to give his hand a squeeze before he wanders out of the living room. Kurt busies himself with laying out his outfit for the next morning, and then returns to the kitchen where he packs healthy lunches for both Carole and his dad for work. Hearing his stepbrother give a shout, the stomping of feet indicating that he’s jumped up from the couch once more, Kurt heaves a sigh of passing annoyance—only six more months of this—and makes his way out the kitchen door and into the backyard.

Ah, blessed peace.

The weather is still far warmer than Kurt prefers, but once the sun has gone down its at least bearable, and he makes his way down the steps of the deck onto the recently moved grass. The backyard is larger than their old one, with two elm trees tucked in the back corners, and a large bur oak rising up beside the deck in its far left corner. He and Carole had cultivated and planted a little garden tucked away in the back, and there was still plenty of open grass for Blaine and Finn to have spent hours throughout the summer tossing a football back and forth.

Making his way to the far side of the oak, Kurt sits at the base, leaning back against it to stare up at the stars with a smile. He and Blaine had spent most of their nights together out here during the summer, talking about the future, and quietly sharing the past. It was here that Kurt had first broached the idea of Blaine transferring to McKinley, and it was here he’d talked at length about the idea of running for class president just last week. He hadn’t been really convinced it’d be a good fit for it until Blaine had mused aloud over the idea of being a politician’s spouse. They’d both decided that Blaine could totally rock the Jackie O look quite well.

Hearing the screen door creak open and then close, Kurt turns to look around the trunk of the tree, smiling when he sees Blaine jog down the steps of the deck and move over toward him.

“Don’t tell your dad I said this, but there is such a thing as too much football,” Blaine announces with a grin. “Particularly when your stepbrother is involved.”

“Finn means well,” Kurt says in a small attempt to defend him. “But when you consider the fact that the two closest people to him—myself and Rachel—can’t stand most sports, it’s no wonder he becomes an overgrown puppy when you’re around.”

“More like a slobbering St. Bernard.”

Kurt laughs. “So does this mean I get the pleasure of your company until you have to leave in—“ Kurt glances at his watch “—a little over an hour.”

“That’s exactly what it means. Do you want to head upstairs or—ahh!” Blaine’s question is cut off with a surprised screech as Kurt’s wraps his arms around his legs and yanks him to the ground.

“Now I have you right where I want you,” he says victoriously as he rolls Blaine beneath him, tangling their legs together as he nuzzles his nose against Blaine’s neck. He hadn’t shaved that morning and the stubble is more prominent than usual. That combined with the fact that Kurt can still smell his moisturizer on Blaine’s skin, and he suddenly can’t seem to pull himself away, licking a stripe along the length of his boyfriend’s neck, sucking open mouthed against his Adam’s apple. Blaine squirms beneath him, hands settling over Kurt’s hips and he shifts until Kurt’s legs slide between his own trapping him between them.

Setting his hands on either side of Blaine’s arms, Kurt lifts himself slightly, bringing their mouths together, and Blaine’s lips are already parted, their tongues meeting and sliding together, and Kurt thinks this is something he’ll never get enough of enjoying. He loves the feel of Blaine’s mouth against his and the warmth and taste of his tongue; he loves how they always seem to be able to anticipate the other, heads angling just right, mouths slotting against one another.

Kurt trails his lips away from Blaine’s mouth, as reluctant as he is to do so, over his chin and down his neck once more, nipping at the sensitive skin in the exact places he knows makes Blaine squirm and clutch at him. He grazes his teeth against Blaine’s collar bone, just above the neckline of his Patriots jersey and then sucks at the skin there until a bright red patch appears. Blaine will wear a collared shirt tomorrow, and no one will know the difference, except the two of them, and Kurt kind of loves knowing that hidden away beneath Blaine’s clothing are marks made by him.

Moving his hand down the front of Blaine’s jersey, he reaches the hemline and pushes it up, sneaking his hand beneath and smiling against Blaine’s neck when he feels his boyfriend’s stomach muscles contract under his touch. Things have always progressed slowly between them; they’ve discussed it time and again until deciding it’s just how their relationship operates. Blaine is the first person Kurt has ever been comfortable with physically touching him outside of hugs from his dad, which he’s always kind of craved. Of course with Blaine it’s more, but they’ve never rushed, and Blaine has never pushed, and Kurt has grown comfortable with the idea that he’s the one in control here. When he’s ready, he takes the next step. And little by little, he’s always found himself taking those steps, no matter how small, from sharing soft kisses and holding hands, to discovering just how sensitive the neck and skin beneath each ear is, to enjoying the smooth feel of the wide expanse of Blaine’s back beneath his fingertips
Kurt can’t say what spurs him past his usual comfort zone this time. One moment he’s running his fingers over the soft skin of Blaine’s tummy, the next he slides his hand over the front of his jeans, palming slightly as his thumb flicks at the zipper. It’s the first time he’s seriously found himself thinking: There’s too much clothing in my way.

“Kurt, what’re you doing?” Blaine cranes his head back, looking toward the house fretfully before returning a wide-eyed gaze to Kurt.

“Shhh. They’re busy. No one’s going to come looking for us,” he assures his boyfriend as he slowly snaps the button open and slides the zipper down, pushing the material apart.

There’s been frottage—lots and lots of frottage through the summer once that initial realization took place for Kurt that he could do something like that with Blaine, and Blaine with him, to each other—but neither of them has taken that step to actually look and touch and explore beyond that. Kurt’s still a little afraid that Blaine won’t like what he sees, and he gets the feeling that for as confident as Blaine likes to pretend that he is, he has the same kind of fears for what Kurt might think. They’ve talked about it, and he knows they’ve both been ready to take another step forward, but lately there hasn’t even been a chance.

And why Kurt is willing to risk it here, now, out in the back yard just an hour before Blaine needs to head home is beyond him. They haven’t really had this kind of alone time all weekend though, and Kurt just has this sudden need, and courage, and he wants to do this because it’s Blaine, and he always wants more when it comes to him. Always feels a little bit more brave and confident to reach for what he wants each and every moment that they spend together.

“Kurt—“

“I want to touch you.” There, he said it. Kurt looks up to find Blaine staring at him, still wide-eyed, lips parted slightly in a little “O” of surprise. “I want to look at you. Please, Blaine? I’ve wanted to for a while now but… this is the first time I’ve had the courage to ask.”

Blaine blinks slowly, like he had gone somewhere for a moment, and then slowly come back to Kurt. “You… can. I mean, I want you to.” He glances nervously over his shoulder again. “But how do you know that your dad or Carole won’t—”

“Do you trust me?”

Blaine smiles back at him softly. “You know I do.”

Taking that as the only response he needs, Kurt lowers his head to press another kiss against Blaine’s belly before pushing himself further down his body until he’s eye level with Blaine’s hips. He bites his lip nervously, a little uncertain of how to go about this. He decides to just take his time, shifting the material of Blaine’s jeans open further, and running the tip of his index finger along the outline of Blaine’s cock beneath his underwear. He brings up as he hears something like a hiss escape Blaine’s lips. His boyfriend’s eyes are closed, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. Bringing his gaze back to his task at hand, Kurt continues to follow the outline with his finger a long few moments before dropping his head to place a light kiss against the soft skin just above the waist band of his boxer briefs. He lingers there, noting the change in Blaine’s scent, the body wash and cologne mingled with a heavy musk that Kurt realizes he’s kind of in love with. It’s all Blaine and boy and he wants to wrap himself up in it and keep it forever.

Kurt reaches his finger out, following the trail of dark hair from beneath Blaine’s belly button and down to where it disappears past the elastic waist band. He hovers there just a moment before his fingertip slips inside. For a moment, his eyes are drawn back toward Blaine’s stomach, where his muscles are contracting with each indrawn breath. The realization that Blaine is just as nervous as he is makes Kurt feel a little braver and he shifts slightly, taking one last breath before he simply slips his hand beneath the waist band and pushes the material downward with his wrist. His fingers are wrapping around the smooth skin of Blaine’s cock before he consciously realizes he’s doing so, and then there it is, right there in front of him. Kurt feels his fingers tighten just briefly and Blaine is making a noise above him that Kurt’s never really heard before, but it’s kind of beautiful, like a cross between a moan, and soft keening, and Kurt really wants to hear it again.

Shifting for a better position, Kurt draws his hand upward along the length, and then back down again, smiling a little when the action causes Blaine to gasp and his hips move, just a bit, as if he’s trying to hold back. He pauses, just staring for the next few seconds, allowing himself to memorize everything about this moment. Blaine isn’t all that different from him, not as long but certainly thicker, the skin just a little darker, and Kurt really tries not to think of his boyfriend’s cock in terms of dusky pink, lavender and fleshtones but… dammit, he just did.

“Kurt…”

Blinking, Kurt looks up to find Blaine staring at him nervously, and wow, okay so this is new to both of them and Kurt shouldn’t have allowed his mind to stray like that. He offers Blaine a reassuring smile, and lets his hand travel along the length again. “Sorry,” he whispers. And Kurt knows he needs to make this better, because god, he already wants to do this again, so he says, “It’s just… I didn’t realize I’d love looking at you like this.”

Oh god, did that sound as weird as Kurt fears? Does Blaine think he’s a pervert now??

Kurt releases the breath he hadn’t realized he’s holding when Blaine returns his smile. “It’s okay. For a moment I thought… “ He doesn’t finish the sentence, but he doesn’t really need to since Kurt would be worried about the same things. Blaine whispers, “But, Kurt?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you like… keep touching me?”

Oh. He’d stopped again. Biting his lip, cheeks warming, Kurt nods and moves his hand over Blaine again, gaze traveling back to the sight of his fingers wrapped around boyfriend’s dick. The feel of his hand on Blaine isn’t much different than when he jerks himself off; but just as it isn’t, it is, because it’s Blaine, his boyfriend beneath him, reacting to his every touch. Kurt can’t stop marveling over that fact. He watches as the tip begins to glisten, and just lets his thumb slide up to move over it, circling the slickness around the head.

Blaine’s growing restless beneath him, one knee drawing up, sharp intakes of breath growing more constant, one hand reaching out to curl around the forearm Kurt is using to hold himself up. Kurt looks down at where Blaine’s fingers are pressing in to his skin, and when he meets the dark-eyed gaze watching him, he realizes he’s seeing something new and vulnerable and amazing in Blaine’s expression. A silent plea.

It’s something Kurt’s never imagined in all of the times he’s allowed himself to picture this scenario. Without a word, Blaine is begging him to keep going, to give him what only Kurt can give in this very moment, and Kurt is shocked by the feeling of power he knows he holds over Blaine right then… and also the tenderness he can’t help but feel.

Scooting his way back up so that their bodies are aligned side to side, his hand never pulling away from its task, still stroking, sometimes twisting his grip slightly—whatever seems to make Blaine squirm and whine and look at him with big, shining, disbelieving eyes—Kurt presses their lips together. Blaine’s mouth parts easily beneath him and his hand is curling tight in the hair at the nape of Kurt’s neck, pulling close and tugging back, soft moans issuing in the back of his throat as Kurt speeds up his strokes.

It is, without a doubt, the most amazing thing Kurt has ever experienced in his life. Gershwin Theater has nothing on jerking off his boyfriend.

It’s a surprise when Blaine comes—one moment Kurt thinks he’s finally got a rhythm going, and then next Blaine is shuddering beneath him, gasping his name and Kurt’s hand is wet and sticky. Uncertain of what is exactly supposed to happen between two people at this point in the process, Kurt continues to hold Blaine for a moment, feeling him soften beneath his touch before finally pulling his hand away and wiping it against the grass. Beside him, Blaine continues to breathe hard for a moment before he reaches down to tuck himself away and refasten his jeans.

There’s silence. A lot of silence.

Kurt figures this is that clichéd moment when girls typically ask guys what they’re thinking, except Kurt’s pretty certain he knows what Blaine’s thinking. If it’s not about what he plans on having for breakfast in the morning, it’s probably about what the score on the game is right now. Not that Kurt thinks those things after he’s jerked off—he’s usually thinking about his outfit for the next day or what song he should solo with at Nationals.

Whatever Blaine’s thoughts are, his hand comes up to curl around the back of Kurt’s neck, tugging him down for a light kiss, and then Kurt finds himself snuggling against Blaine’s shoulder, arm sliding around his waist.

“So,” Blaine begins, just when the silence is about to reach levels of ridiculousness. “You’re pretty good at that.”

Kurt giggles softly, realizing in that moment the nervousness he had still been harboring. It’s gone though, with Blaine’s compliment. “I take it this means you’re all for doing that again?”

“Does Alexander McQueen have an obsession with skulls?”

Laughing, Kurt presses his face into Blaine’s shoulder for a moment, eyes closing as Blaine’s fingers slide through his hair at the back of his head, massaging gently.

“Are you okay?” Blaine asks quietly, pausing until Kurt lifts his head to meet his gaze. Blaine’s eyes are filled with concern, and so much love that Kurt just lets himself bask in it for a long moment. “I mean, you were ready for that?”

“More than,” Kurt replies with a smile, leaning forward to kiss the corner of Blaine’s mouth.

They both jump slightly as the back porch light flickers on. “Boys?” Carole calls out. “Are you out there?”

“Yeah,” Kurt responds, pinching Blaine in the side when he starts giggling quietly.

“It’s time for Blaine to head home if he’s going to make it by curfew.”

“Thanks, Carole,” Blaine says loudly, grinning up at Kurt before suddenly throwing him off balance and rolling them both over to reverse their positions. “Guess I have to go.”

“Guess you do.” Kurt realizes he’s grinning as stupidly as Blaine is, and he can’t seem to stop.

“I’m going to go home and update my Facebook status to ‘My boyfriend totally touched my dick’.”

“Yeah. You do that and he’ll never touch it again.

*******************

Kurt walks Blaine out to his car; fingers curled together, hands swinging between them. He thinks he should feel embarrassment or something when he meets Blaine’s gaze, but he doesn’t. Not in the least. If anything he feels more sure of himself, more sure of them, more sure of all the amazing possibilities still to be shared between them. He presses Blaine back against the car door and kisses him deep, Blaine huffing slightly against his mouth with soft laughter, and Kurt knows it’s because this is a new side of him, and Blaine likes it—hell, Kurt likes it—but it’s still a little new and awkward and they’re both just learning where to go with it.

“Why do I get the feeling the next time I’m invited over for a weekend of football, my boyfriend may be the only one against it?” Blaine asks after a moment, wrapping his arms loosely around Kurt’s waist as he nuzzles his nose into his cheek.

“Well, if I can pull you away from every Sunday night game into the backyard and end it on a high note…” He trails off, smirking.

“I think someone in your family would catch on. Probably Carole.”

“You’re probably right.” Kurt leans back, pursing his lips. “Next time we’ll just have to sneak you up to my room Saturday night. And set the alarm.”

“Now you’re just getting devious, Kurt Hummel.”

“I think the word is curious.” He walks his fingers down the front of Blaine’s jersey, pausing just above the waist of his jeans and then looks up at Blaine from beneath his lashes.

Blaine laughs and leans forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of Kurt’s nose. “Curiosity’s a good look on you.”

“You’re just saying that because you benefited from it.” Kurt arches a brow at him and pokes him in the chest. “Next time, it’s my turn.”

“Got anything planned for tomorrow after school?”Blaine asks, taking hold of Kurt’s hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing the backs of his fingers.

“If you’re offering...”

“Hell, I’d offer now but if I miss my curfew, I’ll be grounded, and then I think my boyfriend would kill me.”

“Hmmm.” Kurt leans into Blaine once more, reaching up to play with the skin exposed at the edge of his neckline. “Your boyfriend sounds a little possessive.”

“Only in the best way possible.”

Smiling, Kurt gives Blaine a brief, chaste kiss before forcing himself to pull away. “Go. The last thing I need right now is my chance to bring you home with me every day after school this week revoked.”

Blaine grins and pulls the car door open. “Tell your parents thanks again for inviting me over,” he says. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Kurt replies, spinning around and making his way back toward the front porch. He calls out over his shoulder. “Text me when you get home.”

“Yes, dear.”

Kurt laughs, hugging his arms around his waist as he makes his way up the steps to the front door.

“Hey, Kurt.”

Pausing, he turns, head tilting slightly as he looks back to where Blaine is leaning his arms on the roof of his car. “Yeah?”

“You know, one day we won’t have to say goodbye to each other every night. We’ll just say goodnight instead.”

Kurt smiles. “I know.”

~FINIS~