misqueue: Kurt and Blaine together singing "Love Shack" from Glee 3x13 "Heart" (glee - kurt/blaine - love shack)
misqueue ([personal profile] misqueue) wrote2014-01-05 08:30 am

[Fic] Given the Opportunity (2/4ish)

Given the Opportunity (2/4ish)



Kurt/Blaine + Sam | MA/NC-17 | Erotica/Drama, PWP-ish | sex, language, threesome, mild kink, bisexual!Sam, Timeline? What timeline? blowjobs, rimming, 69'ing | canon inspired AU future fic | Two years after Will and Emma’s wedding that wasn’t, Kurt and Blaine return to Lima in February to celebrate another High School friend’s wedding. Sam catches up with them there and it becomes clear that Sam, after a string of heartbreaks and dashed hopes for a reunion with Mercedes, could use the help of his friends. Or Bros help bros hook up at weddings where there are too damn many ex girlfriends. | ~10,250 words total so far

Previous: [ Chapter 1 ]


2.

Sam comes to Kurt. For a moment, he hesitates by the bed, rubbing the pads of his fingertips against his thumbs, until Kurt beckons again. Kurt's hand meets Sam's thigh as he kneels up on the edge of the mattress beside Kurt. He looks between Kurt and Blaine. "What do you want me to do?" Sam asks.

"Uh," is all Kurt manages at first, for Blaine is slowing down and sucking harder, and his keen gaze rises to watch Sam and Kurt. Sweat gathers across Kurt's scalp; he feels the slide of it across his temple, feels it beading on his cheeks. Blaine keeps steady, plying Kurt with a viscous hot build up; it's not enough to get Kurt anywhere soon, but it's enough to keep him dazed and blinking a fresh drip of perspiration from his eyes. It's a struggle to coordinate his lips and tongue. But Kurt slides his hand up Sam's thigh, and, "May I?" he asks, thin and high. He bites down on the moan that follows, and it's like something out of one of his particularly vivid sex dreams when he slides his hand over the shape of Sam's hard cock behind his fly.

"Yeah," Sam says, and he unbuckles his belt as Kurt takes the tab of his zipper. And then Sam's pushing his trousers and briefs down his muscular thighs and his cock is right there, above Kurt's upturned face. Kurt's staring at it, panting to catch his breath, one hand now pressed against the planes of Sam's lower abdomen, his fingers fanned across the groove of his Adonis belt. His other hand still rests upon Blaine's head, his fingers nestled between the stiff, gelled-smooth strands.

Sam's cock is as lovely as the rest of him: well-proportioned, gently curved with a dark pink flush, thick shaft, and gracefully tapered head. The hunger to touch, to taste, to feel, jolts hard in Kurt's gut. He flicks his gaze up to Sam, who looks back with darkening eyes and a furrowed brow.

It seems a fragile thing then, the moment that expands between them. Kurt has to glance down at Blaine, to both verify permission and ballast his own confidence. Blaine pulls off Kurt's cock slowly, holds his gaze with affection and a wide open understanding that weaves through the spaces of doubt, fills them in, reconnects the pieces of Kurt that are fraying. Blaine smiles, Kurt smiles back, and it only lasts an instant, but it's all Kurt needs. Blaine goes back down with a soft moan, and Kurt turns his attention back to Sam.

Kurt is going to do this: he moves the hand from Blaine's hair and wraps it around Sam's silky shaft so he can push himself up with his other arm to half sit and twist his torso. He leans in to press a kiss to the crown of Sam's pretty cock.

"Oh, okay," Sam says, and his fingertips brush over Kurt's hair and then skim down the back of Kurt's neck to rest between his shoulder blades, light and uncertain, and somehow that makes it even more erotic: being the first man to do this for Sam. And Sam smells good—clean like fresh linens dried in the sun amidst the deeper, rounder nose-filling scent of sex.

Kurt licks delicately at first—in stark contrast to the strong pull of Blaine's mouth on him. It takes all of Kurt's concentration. He spreads the end of his tongue in a slow curling tease just under the head, and Sam shivers all over. Kurt has to swallow his own soft groan as Blaine hums and pushes all the way down Kurt's cock, taking him as deeply as Blaine can, and Kurt feels the soft constriction of Blaine's throat snug around the crown of his cock and Blaine's nose bumps against his pubic bone. Kurt closes his eyes as his eyes roll back and he parts his lips against just the tip of Sam's cock, softly suckles and mouths at the plush head and dips his tongue into the shallow groove.

"Umm," says Sam and his hand comes up to the back of Kurt's skull, ruffling his hair. But Kurt can't tell if it's encouraging or cautionary, so he withdraws and pauses. Takes a breath and opens his eyes. Kurt turns his gaze up and runs the underside of his tongue across his bottom lip. Offers Sam a smile.

"All right?" he asks. Wonders if Sam wants Blaine to be the one doing this.

Sam nods, wide-eyed and stunned. "Oh, definitely, yeah," he says. "Just..." He gestures between them.

"I can... um... do something else?" Kurt lets go of Sam and reaches for Blaine to still him. "Or we can. Would you prefer—?"

Blaine lifts off Kurt once more, presses a kiss to Kurt's fingertips.

"No, no," Sam protests. "This is good. God, I didn't think it would be this good is all. You guys are... uh, hot."

"Oh!" Kurt says, and he can't stop himself from grinning broadly, covers his mouth to stifle his laugh and looks at Blaine, who is smiling brightly back at Sam. "Well, then," Kurt says.

This time, Kurt holds Sam's gaze as he sucks Sam's cockhead between his lips. Sam's pulse throbs hard upon his tongue as he pushes forward, gradually opening wider and taking more. Sam's quiet now, there's just the rush of his breath, deepening and quickening, his lips coming apart in pleasure slackened astonishment.

And Blaine returns his attention to Kurt's erection. Long, lazy licks with a wide and soft tongue, replace the encompassing suction. Kurt can't really see Blaine, not without stopping what he's doing himself. But he knows how Blaine looks doing this, how his lips will be spit shiny and plumped, his eyes heavily-lidded with satisfaction.

The angle's not good though. Kurt's neck is already complaining, the crimp of his wrist already aching. And they all still have their pants on. Kurt slides off Sam and clears his throat. "Could you please," he says to Sam, "Take your pants off?"

He looks down at Blaine. "Help me with mine?"

They all break apart to finish undressing, and then they come back to the bed naked.

Blaine reaches for Sam, pulls him in by his shoulders and kisses him, soft and open, and Sam reaches straight for Blaine's dick; Blaine shivers and moans and pushes into Sam's grip. Kurt scoots to the side to give them space, and to let himself cool off and catch his breath. As he watches them, he reaches for one of the glasses from the night table, takes a mouthful of water. Then Sam breaks the kiss, rolls Blaine to his back, and asks, "Can I try?" he asks. "I want to suck you."

"Oh," Blaine says, "Yeah. Please."

And just like that, Kurt's having trouble breathing again. He's caught, shifting his attention between watching Blaine's face, lit with delighted anticipation, and Sam's soft lips on Blaine's skin, kissing down the center of Blaine's chest. The glass is slick and cool resting against Kurt's bottom lip, but it's doing little to help cool him as Sam scoots back down the bed and pauses, rapt, his mouth open and hovering right above Blaine's blood-flushed, thick-veined cock. Kurt reaches down for himself, but he doesn't stroke, just needs the contact to soothe and center.

"Sam," Blaine says softly, and lifts up to his elbows to better watch.

In that moment, of Sam's hesitation and Blaine's gentle plea, it's so shockingly intimate between Blaine and Sam that Kurt feels like a voyeur—welcome to be sure, but not entirely part of what's happening. He knows how long Blaine has wanted this, how much. Knows, too, how Sam has thought about it, but it's brand new between them, to acknowledge this mutual desire and curiosity, to be on the verge of fulfilling it. Kurt says nothing, just sips his water and holds on.

They're a stunning spectacle. Sam's skin gleams with perspiration, and his fair hair falls against Blaine's belly when he lowers his head to press his plush lips just below the head of Blaine's cock. The sound Blaine makes—soft, almost childlike in its wonder, and full of sweet yearning—Kurt may never find the words to describe properly. Sweat has loosened the curls around Blaine's temples, darkened the long sweep of his eyelashes. It's been a long while since something was both this intimate and this novel with Blaine. Many of the firsts between them are done, but this is new for them too, for him to be seeing Blaine tense and trembling beneath Sam's attention, watching Blaine's beautiful face crumple into bliss.

Blaine's hands twitch and clench restlessly beside him, as if he's afraid to touch Sam while he's doing this for Blaine. Kurt lets go of himself, sets his glass aside, and reaches across the rumpled white sheets between them. He slides his hand beneath Blaine's, gives him something to hold on to, too.

It takes Sam a little while to work up to taking Blaine into his mouth. He starts with closed kisses and the curious brush and drag of his lips along Blaine's length: back and forth, up and down. The shine of Blaine's precome catches on his top lip, and Sam hesitantly licks it off. That seems to bolster his confidence, for it's then that he lifts Blaine's cock in his hand and presses his mouth more fully over the head of it. His cheeks hollow out as he opens and sucks it into his mouth. Blaine's fingers tighten around Kurt's. His eyelids droop closed, his mouth comes open, and his head falls back.

Sam is, once he gets going, very enthusiastic. Being familiar with the equipment, Kurt's always expected, would give many guys insight into giving a decent blow job even if he lacked actual experience. But, the logistics of it are still a challenge. Knowledge doesn't equal skill. Sam doesn't choke, but Kurt can tell he's struggling to take as much as he's trying to, and he can't quite get a good rhythm going. It looks like he's trying to do too many things at once. And while Blaine is not complaining (quite the opposite), Kurt is sure Sam can do even better. But Kurt doesn't move. He does speak though, quietly.

"Slow down, Sam," Kurt suggests. "And relax. No one's expecting you to deepthroat a cock like a porn star the first time."

At that, Sam pulls off with a gust of self-conscious laughter. Blaine makes a noise of mild distress and sinks back into the pillow behind him, lets go of Kurt's hand to reflexively reach for Sam, but stops himself, and his hand falls limply to the bed.

"Then maybe you could show me how to do that, Kurt?" Sam asks. There's a hint of something in Sam's grin—something smug and unexpectedly knowing, like this is an inside joke, but not one Kurt is privy to.

"Oh?" Kurt turns to Blaine who avoids meeting his eyes. "Have you been kissing and telling, baby?"

Blaine opens his eyes and looks determinedly at the ceiling as he steadies his breathing. "There may have been a night with Sam," he says, "that may have involved a bottle of my father's Armagnac, and I may have waxed poetic about some of your... more... specific skills and how hard you worked to perfect them."

Kurt's eyebrows go up. He had no idea Blaine talked about the quality—or details—of their sex with Sam.

"He really missed you, dude," Sam offers. "I've never seen a guy talk about blowjobs and then cry like that."

"It was when we weren't together, Kurt. I was really drunk," Blaine says, apologetically.

"I see," Kurt says, and he tries to keep his tone as neutral as possible. He's not going to laugh, because that doesn't seem fair. It's an amusing enough image, but he knows how genuinely sad Blaine would've been, and how vulnerable he had to be to talk about such personal things. It's also nothing he wants Blaine to feel ashamed of. "That's fine."

"He was really drunk," Sam says gravely.

"Yeah," Blaine says; he rubs over his face with his hands, he pauses with hands over his eyes, and then he starts laughing.

The surprise of Blaine's amusement is enough for Kurt to give in to the smile that wants to bend his lips. "Then I think I need to hear more about this evening," he says.

"There was some cuddling," Sam said. "To, you know, calm him down."

From behind his hands, Blaine nods and sighs. "Yes, there was cuddling."

"And Blaine kissed my neck."

Blaine uncovers his face. "What? No, I didn't."

"Your lips—" Sam points at Blaine and then himself. "My neck. I remember."

"That wasn't a kiss. I would never—"

"Dude, you were nuzzling."

"I face planted against your neck because I lost my balance and you caught me."

"Yeah, well, trying to practice the Gangnam Style choreography after four drinks wasn't your smartest move ever."

"Oh my god, okay," Kurt says, grinning. "Okay, I get the picture."

"The dancing was all before the crying," Sam says, as if the ordering of events is essential information for Kurt to understand. Maybe it is, but it's difficult still, to think for long about Blaine early on in the time during their break up. It's not a time he wants them to be dwelling in too much now.

"Right," Kurt says, and he reaches for Blaine's nearest hand again, slips his fingers between Blaine's and squeezes, but he looks at Sam. "So you're after a demonstration, then, Sam? Or just helpful tips?"

"Either?" Sam says. "Both?"

Kurt shrugs with one shoulder. "Blaine's actually better at this, but since he's the subject, I'll see what I can manage," Kurt says, wry humor in his smile. Blaine laughs, relieved, and rubs across Kurt's knuckles. With a grin, Sam shifts back on his heels to give Kurt more space.

Kurt moves to kneel closer beside them, his knees tucked against Blaine's ribs. He presses his mouth to Blaine's opposite shoulder and releases his hand to drag his fingers over Blaine's belly. Takes a moment to steady himself, for teaching Sam how to blow Blaine hits a level of intimate detail Kurt's not well prepared for. It's not that he's unwilling, but he didn't expect this. Improvisation it will be. "Okay," Kurt says as he lifts his head and turns his attention to his hand. "First, just..." he slides his palm down to cover Blaine's length, strokes lightly up the underside with his open hand. "...take your time with him, not just at the start. Blaine enjoys it if you draw it out, tease him a little. Make him wait before you let him come. When he gets close, back off a few times."

"Yeah?" asks Sam.

"Mmm," Blaine says, and the pulse of blood in his cock makes it rise against Kurt's palm.

"Trust me," Kurt says, "it's hot."

"Okay," says Sam, and he rubs up Blaine's thighs with his hands.

"So, uh..." Kurt spares a glance back at Blaine, whose eyes shine with affection and gratitude. The reciprocal uncurls in Kurt's chest, warm and familiar despite the novelty of sharing this with Sam. Then Kurt turns back to Sam and Blaine's cock. His knees skid back toward the headboard as he turns and lowers himself down to his belly, feet kicked up behind him, facing the foot of the bed.

"You already know what feels good," Kurt says, as he curls his fingers around Blaine more tightly, pets his belly with his other hand. "If you want to try to take him deeper, that's fine, but don't push yourself." Kurt lets the saliva accumulate in his mouth, ignores the throb of his own cock pressed against the sheets beneath him. "It takes patience and practice. You, uh, have to open up your throat, kind of like when you yawn? Breathe through your nose, and, um, if you start to gag, try to relax through it, but stop if you have to. Humming helps sometimes."

Sam nods, and Kurt braces a hand either side of Blaine's hips. Then, he exhales and opens his mouth, closes his eyes, and starts to take Blaine in. Blaine's hand comes to rest warm upon the back of his thigh, kneading along Kurt's hamstring in encouragement, pushing up to his backside and smoothing over one buttock. Kurt hums his approval and flattens his tongue low and wide, concentrates on keeping each breath even as he slides, slow and steady, down Blaine's length.

From this angle, there's always a twinge when the flared ridge of Blaine's crown approaches the back of his tongue, but Kurt expects it, has learned to breathe through it and keep himself open around Blaine. He hums softly until he's confident the reflex has passed, and then he swallows. Blaine swears as Kurt's tongue pulls him deeper, past his soft palate. Another swallow, and it's nearly all Kurt can take. It's enough that Sam can see what's possible. So he reverses direction, begins to slide off, but then Sam's hand is on his head, gentle but urging him back down. "Keep going?" Sam asks.

Kurt opens his eyes, though he can't raise his gaze up much past Sam's navel. With Sam's cock just inches in front of him, and Blaine's cock already stretching his throat, Kurt lets out a soft moan, and works the muscles of his tongue and throat around Blaine's girth just as Blaine rocks his hips, a single shallow thrust that makes Kurt's eyes water and his eyelids flutter.

And then Blaine's hand is moving to grab at his thigh, and he's tugging Kurt's leg. Instinctively, Kurt goes with the impulse of Blaine's touch, lets Blaine guide his leg over until he's straddling Blaine's chest and Blaine's pulling him back by the hips and nuzzling at his balls. Which makes Kurt wonder if Blaine and Sam have been making covert hand signals above him, coordinating some plan of their own.

A thrill follows on the heels of his wondering, and a hot revelation expands in his mind, embeds itself deep in his gut. Of course, Sam and Blaine had their own conversation, and Kurt has his own fantasies that he's shared with Blaine, and oh—he's not just here to enable their connection to each other. They're here for him too.

The emotion crests like a wave, springing tears behind his eyelids. Nothing sad or painful, but a strange variety of joy. It clamps so tightly in his throat and he has to release Blaine, and Sam lets him slide off. Panting to catch his breath and blinking to clear his vision, Kurt doesn't look up even as Sam's hand comes to cup beneath his jaw.

For Sam to see him like this—the exhilaration hits Kurt's so hard he nearly chokes on nothing. He can't look up to see Sam's face, not when he's the one tumbling into his own desperate wanting. A shuddering inhale becomes a full body shiver at the soft press of Blaine's lips just behind his balls, as if Blaine is bestowing some sacred blessing upon him. "Oh god," Kurt whispers and then, dreamlike—like the air in his lungs is made of syrup, the words feel so thick, full, and sweet coming up his throat. "Sam, come closer," Kurt says, for he can do this. He aches to do this. He shifts his weight so he can reach out, curl his hand around Sam's stiff cock, and guide him forward, where he wants him.

"Yeah, yeah," says Sam and Kurt can hear the dazed arousal in his voice, and he moves until Kurt's got him aligned with Blaine's cock, and Kurt changes his grip until he's got them both held together, snug and hot, right there. For him. He catches their mingled scents as he reaches with his lips and tongue. There's no way he can take them both into his mouth together—it's not something he even wants to attempt—but he does want them both like this. He licks from Blaine to Sam with a curling, slick tongue, circles each in a slippery figure-eight. Tastes them both, familiar and not. That's when Blaine, with a soft groan, slides his lips up and presses another hungrier, open-mouthed kiss to Kurt's rim, and Sam puts both hands in Kurt's hair. His hold is so light; the glancing touch of his fingertips at the edges of Kurt's ears makes his scalp prickle. And Blaine's tongue glides over his anus right up to his tailbone and then back down, scatters a hot chill up the length of his spine.

"Kurt," Sam says, and he nudges forward when Kurt next slips up from Blaine's cock to Sam's and sucks around his cockhead. And then Sam says it again, more breathlessly, "Kurt."

"Mmm," Kurt replies; he opens and lets Sam press in, and then he groans, even more deeply, as Blaine starts working him open with more determination, with slick hard thrusts of his tongue. Blaine's cock bumps against the tender skin below Kurt's chin, slides damply against his throat, and Kurt urges Sam in deeper. The hardest thing is splitting his concentration between the intoxicating play of Blaine's mouth, which is winding blistering hot pleasure tight in his belly, and the challenge of taking Sam's less familiar cock all the way in. The sound of his own moans seems too loud and foreign to Kurt's ears, and the muscles of his forehead, creasing with effort, he feels only distantly.

More immediate is the thick weight of Sam's cock stretching his jaw and pushing the back of his tongue down, and Blaine's clever, strong tongue pressing into the sensitive center of him, coaxing him looser. His face is wet. There are tears leaking from his closed eyelids, saliva from the corners of his mouth, and the precious ache of arousal burns in every movement and muscle: Sam is rocking his hips gently, murmuring something soothing and sweet to Kurt, while Blaine's hands keep a bruising tight hold on Kurt's buttocks and his tongue twists and flickers and slides, and Kurt could nearly, nearly come like this. Instead he tries just to keep a rhythm: breathing, swallowing, relaxing; breathing, swallowing, relaxing...

He lasts longer than he expects like that, but his endurance for it fragments, piece by piece. The harder Blaine presses, the farther his tongue reaches, the quicker Sam thrusts, pushing as deep as Kurt can take him, it's all more than he can endure. Soon, Kurt has to pull off Sam, because his muscles are twitching and tensing beyond his ability to control them. "Sorry," he gasps out, but Sam just urges him up—and up. Helps Kurt shift his weight back to his knees, and Kurt's settles back into the cradle of Blaine's hands, and Blaine is not stopping or slowing, so Kurt cannot catch his breath. Sam has him though, strong hands beneath Kurt's elbows until Kurt's got his balance, even though gravity still seems to swoop beneath him. With a feeble smile, Kurt tries his best to keep his eyes open, for the way Sam is looking at him is worth it. But he's unraveling fast now.

"Amazing," is all Sam says, and then he's leaning in and pressing his parted lips to Kurt's slack ones, and Kurt bends into Sam's kiss like a blade of grass, opens wide for Sam's tongue to fill his mouth, and it's soon working as deep and hungrily as Blaine's tongue is at his other end. Kurt rolls and presses his hips back greedily to meet Blaine's mouth, surges forward to return Sam's kiss with as much fervor as he can summon of his own, his fingers grasp for Sam's face, press into his sweat slicked cheeks and jaw, hold him close, and Sam's fingertips skate across his belly and down, down, to curl around his cock, tug up the length of him firmly—once, twice—and that's all it takes. He comes, sobbing into Sam's mouth, throbbing around Blaine's tongue, and spilling, long and hot, over Sam's hand and Blaine's chest.

Awareness creeps back as the buzz of Kurt's orgasm fades. Blaine and Sam are breathing as heavily as he is. He's tipped forward against Sam, who's petting his back, and Blaine's rubbing at the trembling muscles of his thighs, kissing his bare skin soothingly. "Oh," Kurt says. "Um." He rubs his lips together and takes a deep breath. "Wow."

"Okay?" Blaine asks, soft and warm.

Kurt huffs a silent laugh, shuffles forward on his rubbery legs, and glances back over his shoulder. "Understatement."

"Me or Kurt?" Sam asks, wiping the inside of his wrist across his thigh.

"Both of you," Blaine says, and he scoots back to sit up against the headboard.

"I'm good," Sam says. "Well, except..." He gestures toward his unsatisfied erection.

"Just a little dizzy," Kurt says. He shifts his weight, finds his thighs too wobbly to trust completely, but Sam holds his shoulders as Kurt carefully lifts one leg high enough to bring it back over Blaine without kicking him in the face.

"That was seriously hot," Sam says earnestly, and Kurt can hear the breathlessness in his voice, how turned on he is. But Sam lets go of Kurt and sits back on his heels, patient.

Kurt flumps down onto his back next to Blaine and reaches for the tissue box, passes it over. "You guys should—" Kurt waves a hand at them. "Carry on."

With a laugh, Blaine wipes off his belly, tosses the box in Sam's general direction, and then rolls toward Kurt, bends down and kisses him, just lips, sweet and slow. "You were fantastic," he says. His gaze is full of uncomplicated adoration.

"You should take care of Sam," Kurt says with a smile, looks past Blaine to Sam as Blaine pushes himself up to his knees.

"Yeah," Blaine says, and he goes to Sam.

Kneeling, together, Blaine draws Sam into a kiss. It's chaste at first, and Kurt knows what Blaine's mouth tastes like—how Blaine's kisses will taste so intimately of himself—so he watches, dazed and sated but newly thrilling, as Sam slowly deepens the kiss, watches as his lips move more urgently, how he reaches farther into Blaine's mouth. Until, Blaine, breathless, breaks away and says, "So... do you want to fuck me now?"

"Yes," Sam says. He cups his palm against Blaine's cheek. "Definitely."

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