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wtf-igo · 1 year

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Cry Me A River

(CW: Dacryphilia, Choking, Unsafe Sex, Angry Sex, Orgasm Denial, Arguing, Degradation Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Dom!Bo)

NSFW 18+, Minors DNI

Word Count - 4.5k

The press tour for Eighth Grade has been taking its toll on both of you. Jumping from one state to another, interviews with Jimmy Kimmel, Good Morning America, and various other big-shot television studios from all over the country – sometimes even outside of the country seeing as in a few weeks you’ll be traveling all the way over to Japan – has left the two of you impossibly tired and irritated, and your relationship is put right in the firing line of that disastrous blend of emotions. Not to mention the awful jetlag that you’ve been experiencing ever since you left Los Angeles.

Popping your fourth aspirin of the day into your mouth, you down it with a gulp of cool water from your bottle and sigh. The dull ache in your head feels less painful than before, but it’s still present — like a dark cloud looming overhead, following you. Usually, you would have accompanied Bo to his interview, watching from afar as he navigates through the interviewer's questions in his rehearsed, talk-show-friendly persona. But not today. You’d awoke early this morning with an intense headache — most likely brought on by the jetlag and lack of sleep. Bo had insisted that you stay up in the hotel room for the day, ran a hot bath for you, and handed you some painkillers before settling you down in your shared bed and getting himself ready for the day ahead.

Those simple acts of kindness feel so foreign to the both of you, seeing as now, the majority of your time spent around one another is filled with heated arguments, mind-blowing hate sex, the awkward, deafening silence afterward, and finally the comforting blanket of sleep.

Rinse and repeat.

The throbbing in your head is now beginning to steadily clear up after hours of suffering, and a relieved sigh climbs from your throat. You crack a smile, finally crawling out of the little cavern of blankets and pillows that you’ve created and leaning over to grab your phone from the side table. Bo had suggested that you stay off of any and all devices, which proved to be an incredibly challenging task seeing as you were just alone with your thoughts for most of the day – but you managed to painstakingly follow his advice.

About half an hour has passed, and your weary eyes are hardly focused on the screen as you watch a cheery woman with dark hair and obnoxiously heavy makeup do ASMR whilst eating multiple raw eggs.

Raw eggs.

Your face contorts with disgust as she slurps another into her mouth. Scrolling down the list of recommended videos, you’re met with various topics that could most likely put you to sleep—

Your hearing perks up like a cat’s as those familiar, heavy footfalls storming down the hallway register in your mind. The robotic beep of the keycard, followed by the faint clicking of the door handle as the door swings open, revealing Bo dressed in a plain white tee with an uncharacteristic, thin gold chain loosely hanging from his neck, and dark, smokey grey jeans covering his long legs.

His expression is unreadable, yet you can practically feel the anger seeping out of him.

Smiling coyly, you shut off your phone and set it down somewhere beside you. “Hey, honey. How was your day?”

He dismisses you, making a beeline for the white mini-fridge filled with various mini liquor bottles sitting in the corner of the hotel room.

“I’m guessing not great?” You prompt sadly, sitting up on the bed and resting your hands on your lap.

He huffs a humorless laugh as he leans down, picking out a tiny mystery drink and downing it in it’s entirety. You cringe.

“Ohmygod, take it easy?”

He shoots a fleeting glance your way, ignoring your warning as he plucks another from the refrigerator. You sigh, tossing the comforter off of yourself and clambering to your feet as he pops off the cap, avoiding eye contact. You rush toward him, “Bo!” You snap, yanking the bottle from his hands and slamming the mini-fridge shut.

He exhales deeply and rolls his eyes, returning back to his usual towering stature as he runs an errant hand through his messy blonde locks. “ Jesus Christ… Give it back,” He sighs, the child-like petulance evident in his tone.

It annoys you. Hell, everything he’s been doing recently has been annoying you.

“No,” You say simply, straightening yourself up. “We’ve got a flight to New York to catch at three in the morning tomorrow, Bo. I don’t want you hungover,”

His eyes narrow. “I’ll take an aspirin then. C’mon, I haven’t had a single drink in, like, a whole month because of this stupid fucking tour,” He lets out an exasperated sigh, reaching over to take back the bottle, but you pull it away.

“Don’t act like this right now, Bo,” You frown in concern, the beginnings of that beast named anger nipping feebly at your flesh. “I know you’ve had a bad day, but we’ve still got things to do. Life still goes on. Drinking will just make everything so much worse.”

He huffs, shaking his head as he turns away and heads toward the nearby desk, snatching up the book that he’s been reading over the past month. “Whatever,” He mumbles.

The anger gnaws deeper.

“Christ! Why are you being so childish right now, Bo?” You snap at him, throwing your arms out to the sides in exasperation. “Hell, you’ve been acting like this for weeks !”

He whips back around, his expression disbelieving. “Childish?”

Nodding, you fold your arms defensively. “Yes, childish ! You’ve been throwing fucking temper tantrums every. single. time something doesn’t go your way, and I’m sick half to death of it, Bo!”

He raises his eyebrows and huffs. “Jesus Christ.. Here we fucking go, again! You really do have this INSANE ability to start a fucking fight about any little thing, you know that babe !?” He spits, heavy coats of sarcasm lacing the once-familiar pet name.

You can feel your blood simmering and spitting beneath your skin as you let out a short, stunned laugh. “Of course, just blame it all on me! Because, apparently, it’s my fault that you’ve been such an asshole these past few weeks!”

“Name-calling? Really? We’re name-calling now?” He grimaces, condescension dripping from every syllable. “ Real mature of you, ”

You’ve reached your boiling point.

“Ohmy– You are fucking unbelievable, FUCK you, Bo!” You shout, your voice wavering a little as you swallow a lump. Although, he seems entirely unphased by your display – only adding fuel to your firey rage. You scoff. “You know what? This is fucking stupid! I’m going on a walk.”

You turn away and head for the hotel room door, hearing Bo rumble a dark laugh, his heavy footsteps trailing closely behind you.

“Don’t fucking follow m–”

You’re rudely cut off as Bo’s fingers wrap tightly around one of your wrists, spinning you back toward him with enough force to make you wince. You attempt to push him away with your free hand but he snatches that one in a firm grip as well. “Let me go! You ASSHOLE!” You snap, struggling to break free from him. He remains stoic and silent, just watching you with an indescribable look in his stare, his chest heaving.

You swear that you see his eyes dart fleetingly to your lips.

A trick of the light, you tell yourself.

With a few more feeble attempts at freeing yourself mingled with a variety of curse words and playground insults, you finally give in. “Fine, Bo. You win, okay? Whatever,” You sigh shakily, furrowing your brows as you lock eyes with him. His grip on your wrists tightens and you grimace. “Ow! what the fuck..?”

He sighs impatiently. “Just shut up, would you?”

You part your lips, prepared to protest against his continued insolence – maybe call him a dick this time – but his own lips crashing against yours beats you to it. You let out a yelp, and much to your surprise, it doesn’t take long for you to lean into the kiss. Your mouths work feverishly against each other’s, and you feel your back hit the cool stucco wall of the hotel room, your wrists pinned beside your head. Bo presses his hips into you wantonly, his growing erection prodding at your lower stomach, hot and needy. The obscene feeling makes your mind spin, a chaotic medley of wanting to both punch his lights out and let him fuck you right into tomorrow thrashing in your mind.

He grunts against your lips, kissing messily across your cheek and the curve of your jaw, releasing his grip on your wrists to snake one of his hands up your skirt. A weak gasp climbs up your throat as he runs the pad of his thumb along the surprisingly soaked fabric of your underwear, and you fight off a whimper.

His hot breath ghosts the shell of your ear. “ Slut, ” He growls.

It only takes that one simple word for you to become like putty in his hands, heat pooling low in your abdomen, slowly trickling out of you and ruining that brand-new pair of black lace underwear.

“I—I hate you so much right now,” You grit, trying to keep composed as you feel his fingers dance along the plain of your stomach.

He laughs darkly, the muffled thump of his knees hitting the floor ruminating throughout the hotel room. “The feeling’s mutual, honey,” He sneers, his deep voice ruminating low in your chest.

Electric sparks of pleasure flit around your body as he plants a wet, open-mouthed kiss on the soaked fabric of your panties. He continues, his voice hushed. “And what better to do than to put some of that hatred to good use, huh?”

His fingers wrap around the waistband of your underwear and you positively squirm with anticipation. “Would you like that? You wanna come all over daddy’s face?” He coos, and you nod hurriedly.

“Just, fucking hurry up–” You whimper as you avert your gaze, biting down harshly on your lip out of sheer desperation.

His face contorts into a frown as he yanks down your panties so hard you can hear the stitches pop. “Someone’s bossy,”

Before you can even fully digest his words, he hikes your leg up and over his shoulder, and with one last quiet huff, he buries his face in your cunt. You cry out, involuntarily closing your legs around his head. Calmly, he wrenches your thighs back apart as his devilish tongue probes at your entrance, teasing you. Lapping you up as though you’re his only life source, his tongue licks two more long stripes up your folds, before deftly circling your clit. You gasp, arching your back as pleasure spreads from your core, setting your nerves alight. Your hands fly down to bury themselves in his hair, using him as leverage to ride his face.

“ Ssshhhiiittt –” You groan, legs twitching as his mouth works its magic on your cunt.

He hums against you, shifting on his knees a little to get comfortable and wrapping a hand around your thigh for more support. Tightening your grip on his already disheveled hair, he moans approvingly against you, his skilled tongue tipping you closer and closer to completion.

You cry out as Bo slips two fingers into you with ease, your mouth going dry as those fiery blue eyes glare up at you from between your legs. He thrusts his fingers inside of you with devastating precision, obviously reveling in the lewd noises spilling from your mouth.

The pressure inside of you threatens to burst, and you whimper uselessly.

Just..

Right...

There–

But then, both his mouth and his fingers withdraw from you, and you barely manage to restrain yourself from screaming out in frustration, bucking your hips in protest.

“ No, no, no.. Please, Robert—” You pant, your eyes following him as he rises from his knees so that he’s towering above you once again, his lips shiny with your arousal.

“What?” He dismisses your plea, feigning pity as he glowers at you. “You think you can get off that easily, slut? Daddy still has to blow off some fucking steam from that little fight earlier – so open wide, baby.”

He raises two fingers to your lips, and you uncharacteristically obey without further protest, slackening your jaw as he pushes them inside your mouth. You’re a little embarrassed by your own willingness, but you don’t have time to dwell on the feeling as his fingers graze the back of your throat, making you gag. His expression darkens impossibly as tears sting the corners of your eyes. However, you quickly blink them away before they escape. He eyes you up heatedly, before hastily wrenching his fingers from your mouth without another word.

Before you have the chance to question him about his reaction, those same fingers wet themselves in your arousal, prodding teasingly at your entrance. You gasp quietly, looking him dead in the eyes. “Please,”

He doesn’t move. “Please what?”

“Jus– just fucking do something, you asshole!” You snap, brows tightly knit as you glare at him.

Bo frowns at your impudence, tired eyes glazed over with a deadly mixture of anger and lust. “You’re gonna fucking regret that,” His lips meet yours in an aggressive kiss, all teeth and tongue. Any resemblance of cautiousness or tenderness has been thrown out of the window. Your hands reach up, threading your fingers through his already messy hair and tugging. He hisses against your lips, before finally slipping his fingers into your cunt, curling them inside of you with torturous precision.

You stifle a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Are you–gonna, apologize for being such a– dick?” You pant between fervent kisses.

“No,” He snarls, hot embers of pleasure searing your skin as he picks up his pace, your peak steadily edging nearer. “Are you gonna say sorry for being such a bitch?”

Anger foams and bubbles within you. “Hell no.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, he stops his movements completely and you groan, back arching from the wall as you tug on his hair harder. Your chests heave, and you lock eyes.

“Say sorry,” He spits.

You refuse, shaking your head. “You first,”

“Say sorry, or I swear to god I’m leaving this fucking hotel room.” He warns.

You both know that he wouldn’t. He wants to get off just as much as you do. “Go ahead then, I won’t stop you. Then I’ll finally get a break from all your bul–”

He silences you with another furious kiss, his fingers starting up their feverish movements inside of you once again. Your mouth forms a victorious grin as it works against his, your arms loosely draped around his neck. It doesn’t take long for that all too familiar feeling to well up inside of you, and as the pad of his thumb makes contact with your aching clit you let out a guttural moan, parting from the kiss. You're teetering on the edge, breathing rapidly as he works his frustratingly clever fingers deftly in and out of you, hitting just the right spot inside of you. “Fuck, Bo! Right there, right there– so close, please–” You whine, fingernails digging into the nape of his neck–

You cry out in frustration, so loud that the people in the rooms next to you can most definitely hear as he withdraws his digits wordlessly and wipes them clean on his pants. You attempt to keep the tears welling up at bay, swallowing the unwelcome emotion down. Yet even through your lusty, rage-filled haze, you can’t help the dizzying jolt of arousal that pangs low in your stomach as your eyes drift from his fingers to the prominent bulge straining against his jeans, screaming for attention.

He declines his head slowly, pressing a wet kiss to the sensitive skin just below your earlobe, and you shiver. “Told you that you’d regret that,” He snarls, kissing his way along your cheek as he pulls his shirt over his head and discards it on the floor behind him.

“And to think that I thought you were a gentleman,” You spit.

He huffs a dark laugh as he captures your lips with his again, immediately desperate and filthy. Bo moans into your mouth as you stumble toward the solitary wooden desk beside the massive hotel window. He places a hand on your waist for support as he roughly bends you over with the heel of his palm pressed between your shoulder blades. You let out a weak gasp as the cool surface stings your cheek, your hands splaying out beside your head.

His lips graze the tip of your ear, hands moving down to grab at your hips, pulling you against him. “There’s nothing gentlemanly about what I’m going to do to you, sweetheart.”

Heat fizzles between your thighs as you greedily swallow down his words, sharp and tangy as they slip down your throat. You whimper, wiggling your hips against his hardness – making him hiss against your skin.

“ Fuck– Look at you, just fucking begging for it,” He huffs, the sound of a buckle clinking on the floorboards registering in your brain, like music to your ears. “ Needy little whore, ”

You squirm, moaning unabashedly against the surface of the desk. All signs of dignity have left your body at this point, and Bo lets out a quiet sigh as you hear the sound of fabric swishing against skin. Peering over your shoulder, you watch as he hurriedly shimmies out of his confines – cock standing to attention, pressed flush against his stomach.

He grabs your hips in a vice-like grip, surely leaving bruises as the head of his cock nudges at your entrance teasingly. After all of that build-up, you’re so beyond desperate you could scream. “Please, Bo – I need..”

“No, no, no, shh..” He shushes, patronizing as ever. “Daddy knows what you need.”

He lines himself up with one large hand, roughly palming your ass with the other. Your back arches obscenely as you whine, feeling the lump of tears from earlier return.

“Just the tip for now,” He purrs into your neck as he bites down on the tendons there, making you wince. There’s no struggle as he pushes the head of his cock inside of you with a quiet sigh, your body oh so ready for him, for all of him. You whine, tears springing to your eyes as you try to push your hips back – but his tight grip holds you in place as he remains torturously still inside of you.

“Move another inch and I swear to god you won’t be coming tonight,” He warns, and you clench involuntarily around him – a subtle feeling of dread mingled with arousal flurrying in your stomach. Much to your embarrassment, your eyes fill with tears, and your skin prickles with heat as they trickle down your cheeks.

“P-please– Bo, I can’t take it anymore, just–” You sniffle, embarrassment licking up the back of your neck as you attempt to wipe away the tears – trying to restore some amount of your dignity, surely looking obscene as you flail. You’ve never, in all of your many years spent together, genuinely cried during sex before.

But Bo seems to be enjoying the sight quite a lot, by the looks of it.

“Fucking hell,” You feel him twitch inside of you as he watches you squirm underneath him. It’s almost as if a lightbulb has gone off somewhere in the primal part of his brain. He exhales shakily as his cheeks color, and you feel his hips flinch slightly as he attempts to hold himself back. “Keep crying like that, please,”

Oh.

Well then.

You’re sure to pocket that away for later.

A grin tugs at the corners of your mouth, but you push it away, allowing more tears to spill down your face to tease him a little. He responds with a wobbly sigh, fingers digging into your skin.

Watching as his composure slips right in front of your eyes feels like the ultimate victory. “Fucking, please! Daddy —”

He huffs, eyes darkening. “Fuck—can’t say no to this pussy,” He groans, before finally , he snaps his hips, bottoming out inside of you with a breathy grunt. You wince at the delicious stretch, even after all of these years, you still haven’t fully gotten used to his size. “Fucking.. magic ,”

“Feels so good.” He exhales through his nose as he drags himself out, before quickly plunging back inside – causing more tears to sting your cheeks at the sharp, pleasurable pain.

It doesn’t take long for him to set a pace, hungry and desperate as his hips thrust in and out of you at a devastating speed. You can feel his hot, panting breaths lick up the back of your neck as he furrows his brows in concentration.

“Arms up,” He husks, and you do as he says without a moment's hesitation, his large hands roughly tugging the fabric over your head.

Your eyes are tightly screwed shut as you melt into the rhythm. You know that your core will hurt in the morning, but right now, you don’t give a rat’s ass — chasing that blissful high.

His hands sneak around you, fingertips brushing against your pebbled nipples and giving your breasts one gentle squeeze before one travels upwards to wrap tightly around your throat. A strangled whimper escapes you as his fingers press down on the blood supply on either side, making your brain go hazy.

You suck in a shallow breath through your teeth as his freezing cold chain necklace teases the skin between your shoulder blades. You clench involuntarily. You have to admit, the unconventional accessory does look rather tasteful on him.

White spots start to litter your vision and you gasp weakly, that familiar feeling pulling and tugging at your insides, daring to snap at any moment. But you have one last request. “Wanna see you—please,” You just barely manage to say, the words coming out strained and strangled

Bo lets his hold on your neck go, and you gulp down oxygen hungrily like a drowning man gasping for air. He wastes no time in pulling out of you, swiftly turning you around and dragging you over to the disheveled bed. Bo pushes you onto the plush mattress and you grin breathlessly as he maunders closer. He crawls onto the foot of the bed, sitting up on his knees as he shuffles you over and pulls your hips toward him.

“There you go..” He husks, reaching down to grab your ankles before hoisting your legs onto his shoulders, your hips lifting off of the bed. You suppress a moan as he pushes back inside of you to the hilt, a soft gasp climbing up his throat, large hands groping your thighs for better purchase. He’s impossibly deep inside of you thanks to this new position, and as he starts to move, a twinge of pain nips at your insides and you wince.

“ Yes—fuck, ” He moans, fingers bruising your thighs as his thrusts become frenzied — both of you eagerly chasing your release.

You’re unable to focus on anything but him in this moment, hips snapping into you with reckless abandon, the smell of sweat and sex in the air. You let out a sob as his thumb comes to your over-sensitive clit, rubbing in tight circular motions.

“Go on,” He pants, his pace unrelenting. “Come for me, you little pervert. You can fucking do it, I know you can,”

His filthy mouth sends another wave of arousal south of the border, and you’re done — nerves set alight in a dramatic firework show of all-encompassing bliss as your orgasm finally overtakes you. Bo rides you through it, your name both a prayer and a curse on his lips as he follows you over the edge with a strained whimper, hips stuttering as he empties himself into you.

With a sigh, he pulls himself out, crawling up beside you and collapsing into the warm comforter with an exhausted huff. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his eyes flutter closed as the silence that you have grown so accustomed to recently envelops the two of you in its vice grip.

Rinse and repeat.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes with exhaustion as you stare up at the grooves and bumps in the stucco ceiling. You’re so tired, too tired to deal with the aftermath of this hellish cycle you’ve trapped yourselves in—

“I’m sorry,” Everything around you seems to still as Bo’s sleepy voice cuts through the silence like a hot knife to butter.

“What?” You ask, incredulously raising your eyebrows as you peer sideways at him.

He furrows his brows, propping himself up on his forearms. “I’m sorry for being such an asshole lately, you don’t deserve all that.”

A small smile tugs at your lips, but you will it away. “You don’t have to apologize, Bo, it’s fine.”

He sits up. “No, it’s not – and I do have to apologize because you were right, I’ve been acting childish and I’ve been pushing you away, and it’s not okay. I just– I’ve been stressed the fuck out and I’ve been taking it all out on you, so I’m sorry.” He reaches for your hand and lifts it to his lips, kissing your palm so tenderly that it sets loose a flight of butterflies in your belly. He smiles softly at you as his voice lowers to a hushed whisper. “You’re too good to me.”

It’s like a weight has just been lifted from your chest and you crack a smile, the foreseeable future suddenly seeming far less gloomy and anger-fueled. You avert your eyes shyly as your cheeks color. “Thank you, Bo, you have no idea how much I needed to hear that. And I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier,” You say, watching as his eyes soften.

He chuckles lightly as he shuffles toward you, leaning down on all fours and kissing you sweetly. You giggle against his lips as he crawls back on top of you, your legs wrapping around his waist with your arms draping over the back of his neck. “Round two?” You offer enticingly.

“Ohh, you little freak.” He chuckles lightly, kissing down the length of your neck as the two of you sink into the mattress, limbs tangled and sweaty as you melt into each other; as one, together.

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blurglesmurfklaine · 5 years

Text

The Chair

Prompt/Summary: “I walked into this restaurant and you thought i was your blind date and i just kind of went with it because i don’t want to eat alone”, as well as based off of George Strait’s “The Chair”

Klaine; AU Alternate Meeting; ~1800 words

A/N: This is like two weeks late bc in case y'all have forgotten I'm the slowest writer in the world lmaooooooo

I hope you don’t mind but I changed it up a little, and this is what happened!

Written for @somefeministtheatrepls ‘s birthday! She’s literally one of the best people I’ve ever met (or.. Not technically met but you get the gist) the best beta a girl could ever ask for and the memeiest meme queen you’ve ever met in your life! Thank you for literally making my day every time I open up my messages and for reminding me of the little things that make life worth living :)

I’m so lucky to have so many supportive and amazing friends in this fandom!

Enjoy!

Read on AO3

Three times.

That made three fucking times, including tonight, that Cooper cancelled on Blaine. All he wanted was a night out with Cooper to catch up, but instead he’s angrily huffing his way out of the restroom after yet another argument with his notoriously flaky older brother.

But of course, of course, Cooper cancelled on him without giving any heads up first. And now Blaine had to go back to that bar and finish his drink (he paid eight dollars for it and he’ll be damned if he lets it go to waste) and look like that one pitiful person every bar has that drinks alone and—

His racing thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he was greeted with the sight of a pale man with perfectly sculpted hair, nodding and smiling politely at the bartender as she takes his order.

The only thing he could think was How the hell am I going to get him to talk to me?

Before he knew what he was even doing, Blaine walked right up to the man and said, “Excuse me, I think you’ve got my chair.”

The stranger turned and looked at him with wide eyes, likely horrified at his apparent rudeness. “Oh-oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—“ he got up to leave but Blaine stopped him.

“No, no!” He exclaimed, gesturing to the empty seat next to him. “That one’s not taken, so I don’t mind if you sit here, really.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, concern lining his face.

Blaine chuckled lightly. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s usually packed here on Friday nights, and I’d hate for you to have to stand all by your lonesome.”

“Thank you. I’d hate to wait for this blind date all alone.”

“Blind date?” Blaine asked, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“Yeah, my roommate set me up with this guy she barely even knows from her Diction class. She said he’d be here, waiting at the end of the bar—” His eyes went suddenly wide, as if coming to a realization. He looked down at his chair, finally noting that he had the end seat, then looked back up at Blaine. “Oh, my God, I’m an idiot. You’re my blind date!”

Now, Blaine wasn’t particularly proud of what he did next, but he really just couldn’t help himself. The man sitting next to him may have just been a stranger, but he was the type of stranger that he could see himself having a life with. Right now he was just somebody, but Blaine felt that if he got to know the man better, he could be somebody to him. It sounded ridiculous, but Blaine felt a connection as soon as he saw him, and he wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass.

“Yup! That’s me. Can I drink you a buy?” Blaine fumbled clumsily over the words before wincing at them. Nice going. “Sorry,” He continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “What I mean is can I buy you a drink? Anything you please, really.”

“Anything I please?” He teased. “Such a gentleman. Thank you.”

Blaine chuckled sheepishly, deeply hoping that the man couldn’t see his heart beating through his chest. “You’re welcome… I uh, don’t think I caught your name.”

“Kurt,” he smiled. “Kurt Hummel. And it just occurred to me that you must be Aaron.”

Blaine froze for a moment before figuring out how to get himself out of the hole he dug himself into. “It’s uh, Blaine, actually. But it’s fine, I’ve been told my name is kind of out there.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “It is not okay, Rachel is just terrible with names. If you’re not a fan or a casting director, she’ll forget it as soon as you walk away.”

Well, that’s convenient.

“She sounds lovely,” Blaine joked. “But I’d really love to hear more about you, Kurt. What do you do?”

“Well, right now I’m interning at Vogue.com headquarters with Isabelle Wright when I’m not at school. Over at NYU.”

“Wait a second, you go to NYU?” Blaine asked in astonishment. “Me too!”

“Really? What are you studying?”

“Music Education with a concentration in voice, minor in musical theatre performance.”

“Wow, that’s an impressive mouthful—and course load, I’m sure. I’m in fashion merchandising, but I was actually thinking of adding a Musical Theatre minor, too.” Kurt took a sip of his drink and smiled at him through the straw. “Any advice before I audition for the program?”

Blaine leaned in towards Kurt. “Well, Dr. Williams has terrible taste—and he’s sexist, but that’s besides the point right now—so try to avoid audition dates where he’s on your panel. You’ll get points for Sondheim just because of the difficulty level, so if you have anything of his in your back pocket, I’d go with that. Or, you know, one of those classical killing my baby Arias would probably work too.”

His heart fluttered when Kurt let out a snort, bringing a hand to cover his face. Whatever you’re doing, Blaine, keep it up.

They talked for several more minutes, each glad to be finding out more and more about the other. As time ticked on, Blaine talked about every subject from his annoying older brother Cooper to his opinions on the lack of administrative support for performing arts. In turn, Kurt told Blaine about his family and how life changing his experience in vogue had been.

“Who’s playing tonight?” Kurt asked after the conversation came to a natural lull.

“I don’t know, but they’re pretty good, aren’t they.” Blaine replied. He sat still for a moment, watching Kurt as he nodded his head along to the beat and mouthed the words. Blaine smiled and got up from his chair to extend a hand to Kurt. “Would you like to dance?”

Kurt smiled and nodded, making Blaine’s heart flutter. “I would love to.”

Kurt took Blaine’s hand and lead him to the dance floor where other couples were gently swaying along to the song played by the band.

You look so good in love You want him, it’s easy to see You look so good in love I wish you still wanted me

“You like this song?” He asked with a light giggle, acknowledging the fact that Kurt was lowly singing all the words against his ear.

Kurt chuckled. “I uh, yeah. My mom went through a pretty big George Strait phase before she passed and I used to listen to him when I missed her.”

Blaine furrowed his brows sympathetically. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks… there was this one song that I would listen to when I was really missing her, but I can’t remember the name.” He frowned and twisted his face in thought. “It’s something about West Virginia to Tennessee? And all I have is this beat up leather bag…”

Blaine’s eyes lit up in recognition. “I know that song!” He exclaimed. “We did a Pure Country themed party a few years ago for my best friend's birthday and that song was part of the soundtrack. I’ll be right back.”

Much to Kurt’s dismay, Blaine released him from his comforting grip and made his way through the sea of people towards the stage where the band was playing. He gently noted that his arms felt much too cold without the man he just met in them.

He was suddenly interrupted by a buzzing noise in his pocket.

New Message: From: Rachel ⭐️ Hey, Kurt, sorry this is such late notice I just got out of rehearsal for the spring show but Aaron (Adrian? God, I don’t remember his name) texted me like an hour ago that he wasn’t going to be able to make it tonight.

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows in mild confusion before typing out a response.

New Message: To: Rachel ⭐️ His name is *Blaine* first of all

Secondly, what do you mean? He showed up before I even got here.

No? Send a pic, make sure we’re talking about the same Aaron/Adrien(?)

Kurt glanced warily around the bar, feeling a little weird about Rachel’s demand, but nonetheless quickly snapped a picture of the curly haired man and sent a picture her way.

Cute, but not Anton (I think Anton IS the right name, though)

Wait, so this date I’ve had has been with a complete stranger?

Oooooh, mysterious!

RACHEL

Well… is he a total creep?

Kurt glances up back at Blaine, waiting patiently by the stage to request the song Kurt told him about, looking dreamy as ever with his seemingly permanent yet genuine smile and toned arms and olive skin and...

No…

He’s actually kind of perfect.

In that case, you’re welcome. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Kurt was about to respond that the only he wanted to do with this gift horse was kiss him on the mouth before the lead singer of the band spoke up into the mic.

“This one goes out to Kurt Hummel.”

Blaine happily made his way back to the paler man, extending his hand out to him. “I believe this is your song, Mr. Hummel.”

Kurt slipped his phone back into his pocket before taking Blaine’s hand and heading back out onto the dance floor.

'Cause I'm carrying your love with me West Virginia down to Tennessee I'll be moving with the good Lord's speed Carrying your love with me It's my strength, for holding on Every minute that I have to be gone I'll have everything I'll ever need Carrying your love with me

Blaine felt Kurt wrap his arms around him a little tighter at the chorus. “Is everything alright?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Kurt nodded. “I just… that was really sweet of you to request this song for me.” He admitted, feeling oddly vulnerable about admitting such strong feelings for the stranger in front of him. “I know we just met but… I really like you, Blaine. More than I’ve liked anybody in a long time.”

“I really like you, too…” Blaine trailed off and gnawed on the inside of his lip nervously. “But to tell you the truth… that wasn’t my chair after all.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes playfully and let a smile break loose. “I know.”

Blaine drew his head back in confusion. “Y-you do?”

“Yeah,” Kurt ducked his head shyly and laughed. “Rachel, my roommate texted me about halfway through our date that my blind date wouldn’t be coming.”

“Oh…” Blaine felt color rise to his face. “Look, Kurt, if you want me to go,” he jabbed his thumb behind him. “I get it. I promise I’m not some random weirdo, but I totally get if it freaks you out.”

Kurt responded by pulling Blaine closer. “It doesn’t. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful to have been stood up.”

Blaine let out a sigh of relief. “Me, too.” He further explained at Kurt’s confused expression. “My brother was supposed to meet me here to catch up, and this is like, the third time that he’s bailed on our plans.”

Kurt hummed in mock thoughtfulness. “I suppose that means you know better than anyone that the third time’s the charm.”

“I suppose I do,” is all Blaine said before finally leaning in and pressing their lips together.

#klaine #glee #wow look at me im writing!#somefeministtheatrepls #SORRY THIS IS SO LATE AND SO SHITTY #I PROMISE TO MAKE YOU A BETTER CHRISTMAS ONE

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