This Earthly Paradise (4/10)
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17
Pairing: Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson
Genre: AU, Historical Romance
Spoilers: This is fully AU. No show spoilers, but I do try to keep characterizations somewhat consistent with show canon. Characters who are not from Glee are actual historical figures and the depictions of them are based loosely on those in the BBC miniseries 'Desperate Romantics'.
Summary: In Victorian England, Kurt Hummel is a struggling artist and contemporary of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, an organization of painters, poets, and critics who strive to turn the art establishment of England on its very head. His mentor, one Dante Gabriel Rossetti, has grown tired of Kurt's reluctance to grow as an artist, and so enter Blaine Anderson, an artists' model of Bohemian disposition and eye-catching good looks. Can he, using rather unorthodox methods, succeed where Rossetti has not?
Additional Notes: I wanted to write something that was wholly un-angsty, a bit historical, but not as involved as 'Velvet Petals' or its upcoming sequel. And so I thought I'd spend hiatus on this bit of fluff. For this chapter, aubreyli must be credited for helping me sort out some of the lovely smutty plot points, because she is grand and marvelous.
I must stop drinking, Kurt vowed to himself as sunlight pierced bright and hateful through his tightly shut eyelids. Truly do I mean it this time.
He meant it every time, of course, but today's vow was aided by the fact that his head had never felt quite so much as if a colony of angry Frenchmen had taken up residence inside of it. More worryingly, he seemed to have developed a bent for hallucination, or at least he assumed it was hallucination. It was the only feasible explanation for the vivid, arousing images that were flickering across his inner vision. It was too entirely fantastic to even consider that Blaine Anderson would have ever been before Kurt, on his knees and sucking -
Kurt froze, his eyelids flying open as he became aware of a warm body snuggled up against his back, of a strong arm wrapped tight around his waist, of generous lips pressing kisses to his shoulder. No. It couldn't be. Had his hallucinations taken some sort of physical form?
He squeezed his eyes shut again. Was that even possible?
“Mm, good morning,” a voice murmured in sweet sleepiness between kisses. “I've been waiting-”
Grabbing the counterpane that covered them, Kurt leaped to his feet and shot halfway across the room before turning to face his unexpected morning guest, who was, quite gloriously, not a hallucination whatsoever.
Blaine Anderson reclined cheerfully in Kurt's bed, quite literally in the flesh, as he hadn't a stitch of clothing on his person. “Good morning,” he repeated, a bright smile lighting his handsome face. “As I was saying, I've been waiting simply ages for you to wake up. Hello.”
“You're here,” Kurt gasped, pulling the blanket tight around his own nude form. “You're here, you're -”
“Naked in your bed, yes,” Blaine confirmed with a nod. He reached one hand out and patted the empty area of bed that Kurt had so recently vacated. “Come back and we shall both be naked in it. I'd quite enjoy that, I think you would as well.”
Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, only to feel his cheeks flush brilliant red as images of the previous evening flooded his mind once more. “So that means – all of these things – they're real memories,” he groaned, half-aroused, half-appalled. Such wanton, drunken behavior! He'd never been so indecorous in his life.
And yet...well. It had been so very pleasant...
“Very real,” came Blaine's agreement, and Kurt opened his eyes to see the other man slowly slipping out of the bed and pacing over to stand next to Kurt, caution darkening his amber eyes. “Very real, and quite amazing.”
“Amazing!” Kurt's mouth dropped open with shock. “But I was -”
“Incredible.” Blaine's voice was low and abruptly smoky with desire that was reflected as well in the heat of his gaze when he swept his long lashes up to pin Kurt in place with his eyes. “Beautiful. Sensual. The greatest privilege of my life was to touch you.” His face set with determination under his riotous tumble of curls, Blaine reached out to catch at Kurt's hand, pulling to hold it against his bare chest. “I can go on, should you wish or require it. It is no hardship to speak glorious truths.”
He did wish it, a bit. Who wouldn't want to have an utterly breathtaking man whispering sweet nothings in their ear? And yet it seemed ludicrous to have this man whisper such things to him, to Kurt Hummel, bumbling virgin...well, not exactly virgin anymore, he supposed. Oh, dear.
Kurt looked down at their joined hands, his cheeks still hot as he willed himself not to flee. He inhaled deeply, trying to put his thoughts in order. “I have never...this is...it's all so very new, you see,” he whispered, choosing to keep things simple. “I...”
Blaine's hand came up to touch his cheek, to lift his downcast face so that their eyes met. “You are splendid,” he murmured softly, his thumb stroking over Kurt's burning cheekbone. “Quite the most marvelous person I think I have ever met. And if you will allow it, I should love the opportunity to show you this, to put you at ease. It would be an excellent start to the day, by my thinking.”
The steady, open expression on Blaine's face combined with the soothing touch of his hand to let Kurt relax the slightest bit. “Truly? You would want to?”
“I said as much last night, if you can cast your memory back so far.” The lightest hint of affectionate teasing threaded through Blaine's voice. “Though it may be a bit of a slog given the veritable rivers of hot buttered rum you consumed.”
“At your behest,” Kurt retorted, feeling his mouth curve into a smile. He clutched the counterpane more firmly around his shoulders with the hand that Blaine wasn't holding and gently squeezing. Idly, Kurt wished that the blanket were an embrace from Blaine instead – and then realized that indeed, that was something he could have, if Blaine were to be believed. The thought lifted his heart ever higher, melted the tension out of his shoulders. “You quite took advantage of me, sir,” he found himself able to tease, fluttering his eyelashes in a parody of enticement.
“You quite allowed me to do so.” With a roguish wink, Blaine began to step backwards towards the bed, perforce tugging Kurt after him. “But you are rather clearheaded now. You can tell me to go, and I shall.”
“No, I...no.” Bashfulness began to overtake Kurt once more, causing him to duck his head. Blaine's finger touched his chin, tipping it right back up.
“You shall have to cease being so shy, Kurt, you're much too handsome for it,” Blaine informed him quietly, his eyes melting and darkening in a way that called up more memories from the night prior and weakened Kurt's knees.
“I'm not sure how...” he demurred, still dutifully stepping after Blaine but feeling his face burn hot again. How could he reconcile desire and uncertainty?
Blaine, happily, seemed bent on helping him try, bless him. “Shall I repeat our lesson from last night?” he asked, stopping as the backs of his legs hit the bed. “Shall I show you once more how you are to be revered, not thought of as shameful? It is a lesson I should be quite happy to repeat until you understand it.” He did not take his eyes off of Kurt as he eased up onto the bed, did not let go, tugging at Kurt's hands so that he had little choice but to follow.
“I...” Kurt did not know what he wanted, precisely. Or rather, he knew exactly what he wanted but lacked both the words and composure to express it. He crawled up into the bed after Blaine, both of them slipping down to lay facing each other while Kurt tugged the counterpane up to cover them both.
Blaine reached out and once more cupped a hand along Kurt's cheek, a sweet smile on his face. “Your eyes are so wide in just this moment,” he whispered, letting his thumb brush over Kurt's cheekbone again. “I wonder, if I were to place my hand on your heart, would it flutter like that of a captive songbird?”
“I think so,” Kurt confessed, his voice with most of the breath stolen quite away. Without the warm, liberating rush of alcohol in his veins, his nerves were pulled taut and they burned as if they had been set afire. The breath he could spare quickened in his chest as Blaine's hand traced down his cheek, along his neck, and across his chest until it came to rest at last over his frantically beating heart.
“How can I put you at ease, songbird?” Blaine moved in close, letting their foreheads touch, his nose trace gently along Kurt's. “How do I show you that you've nothing to fear, that I wish to bring only pleasure to your eminently deserving self?”
Kurt ducked his head once more. “I don't know.”
“This will never do.” The hand not covering Kurt's heart tipped his chin up again to meet Blaine's amused gaze. “I think we ought to play a game.”
“Ought we?” Kurt wondered what sort of game they could play, given their current state of being unclothed.
“Oh, we ought.” Blaine was nodding, and mischief danced in the light and shadows of his eyes. “I propose that no matter what I do, no matter what else I ask you to do, that you must never, ever take your eyes off of my face.”
“Never take -” Kurt began, confused, only to be cut off by Blaine's finger over his lips.
“Never take your eyes off of my face, no matter what,” he confirmed with a nod. “Let's start with this.” And before Kurt could try to ask more questions, the finger covering his lips suddenly slipped between them, sliding past his teeth and coming to rest on his tongue. Confused, Kurt blinked at Blaine, who simply smiled.
“Suck on it,” came the gentle but implacable command.
Well, what else was there to do but obey? Closing his eyes, Kurt began tentatively to suck on Blaine's finger, letting his tongue swirl around the knuckle, into the lines of the finger, his lips growing wet as he worked.
“Ah-ah.” Admonishment filled Blaine's voice. “Open your eyes, Kurt. You're to keep them on me at all times.”
This was going to prove to be difficult. Color rose in Kurt's cheeks as he allowed his eyelids to flutter open, to take in the sight of Blaine's steady gaze melting into the deep ochre tone he vaguely remembered from the night prior. Swallowing hard, he redoubled his efforts, head bobbing and recalling more salacious memories involving Blaine kneeling at his feet and -
Kurt began to grow hard, and wondered if Blaine, too, found this to be arousing. He guessed that he must, for his breath was quickening as Kurt worked his finger over with lips and tongue, his cheeks too were coloring bright, and his eyes...oh, those eyes that made so many promises of mischief and desire.
“Another finger,” Blaine whispered, roughness edging his voice. “Open your mouth, Kurt, take it in.”
Lifting his hand, Kurt grasped Blaine's palm as he sucked now at two fingers, never taking his eyes off of Blaine's as he licked and pulled. His self-consciousness was falling away under the spell of Blaine's gaze, superseded by his ever growing desire. But he did not move closer, did not take further liberties, merely confined himself to the sensation and taste of Blaine's fingers on his tongue, trapped by his lips.
All unexpected, a groan tore out of Blaine's throat and he pulled his fingers abruptly away, replacing them with his mouth, his hands gripping the back of Kurt's head as his tongue invaded and claimed with all the desperation of a man going to war. He jerked away as quickly as he'd begun, holding his hand up in front of Kurt's face again. “Lick it – the palm, get it wet as quickly as you can.”
Obediently, Kurt did, Blaine's urgency seizing him in a tight grip. He let the tip of his tongue trace in and along the lifelines in Blaine's palm, dragged the flat of it over the heel of his hand. And the entire time, he kept his eyes locked on Blaine's exactly as instructed, watching the fascinating shift of color in the other man's gaze as Kurt worked. He wished he dared shift his hips closer, to reach his own hand down to ease his lust, or to explore the state of Blaine's.
Mesmerized as he was, Kurt had no warning when Blaine tugged his warm, damp palm free and thrust it down between their two bodies, wrapping it suddenly around Kurt's straining cock and beginning to stroke with a firm, relentless grip. “Give me your hand,” he demanded, locking his gaze with Kurt's ever more tightly. “Give me your hand, and keep your eyes on mine.”
Kurt raised his hand up to Blaine's face, excitement flooding his body when Blaine began to lick and suck at it as well. It was almost too much, the sensation of being pleasantly pulled in all directions overwhelming his mind and body, but still Kurt kept his head enough to watch Blaine, to see his own long, pale fingers disappearing between Blaine's red lips.
And Blaine never tore his gaze away from Kurt.
“Do as I do,” Blaine instructed, guiding Kurt's slick palm down to encircle his cock exactly as Blaine's hand held Kurt's aching shaft. “Stroke in rhythm, with me, and don't...” He gasped a little as Kurt began to do as he was told, swallowed and continued on, but his voice was just that slightest bit more unsteady, and Kurt wondered if it would come more undone if he were to grip harder. “Don't take your eyes off of me.”
Then, it seemed, words deserted them both as they stroked each other in tandem, gazes locked and breath coming in long, ragged sucking inhalations. Kurt felt his grip to be just a little more clumsy than Blaine's, his touch a little more inexpert, but Blaine seemed not to care, biting down on his lower lip as his hips rocked forward, thrusting his erection through the circle of Kurt's fist.
“It seems almost a waste to simply touch you,” came the harsh, strained rasp of Blaine's voice, “when I know how you taste...and yet this way I can see you so clearly, watch you fly apart...” And yet, oh, how Blaine sounded as though he were coming quite apart himself with Kurt's fingers squeezing and stroking at his cock.
Kurt had naturally touched himself before, had held his own cock many a time. And he'd seen the private anatomy of models before – had seen Blaine's, of course. But this was the first time he had ever held another man in his hand, touched the velvety warmth of skin wrapping over what felt like heated steel. He let his thumb brush over the head, his fingers to trace over the ridge and down the shaft.
It fit into his palm as if forged to do so, each fold and ridge melting into the curves and lines of Kurt's hand. And never had he realized that each pull and tug could unravel Blaine a thread at a time, could tease out tiny broken gasps and ragged breaths. He was finding it difficult to keep his eyes on Blaine's when all he wanted to do was tilt his head forward and catch Blaine's lips with his, to take each whimper and moan into his mouth like the most necessary of lifebreaths.
But orders were orders, and Kurt Hummel had his honor.
He did, however, allow his free hand to reach out and grip at Blaine's shoulder, then the back of the other man's head, holding tight as he felt the fiend's fire of climax unwinding at the base of his spine. His own breath stuttered and shook as he kept his eyes firmly on Blaine's, even as the firm stroke of Blaine's hand grew ever faster.
And then Blaine uttered the words that would send Kurt flying.
“Can you...will you come for me, Kurt? Please...come...”
His eyes closed of their own accord as he went over the edge, and he opened his mouth to let out a shuddering breath, only to feel Blaine's lips on his, their groans pressed together and mingling as his hips bucked forward, sliding his cock through the pressure of Blaine's fist. Tongues clashed and tangled, Kurt's hand curled into a fist filled with the soft curls at the base of Blaine's neck. Sticky warmth spread hot across Kurt's stomach as Blaine, too, reached his peak and his entire body went rigid, then collapsed against Kurt with a last soft exhalation like a quiet little death.
The only sounds that filled the room then were their panting breaths, and Kurt's entire world seemed centered on the man in front of him, who had brought his hand back up to brush gently at Kurt's temple before pulling him close into a kiss that was sweet and lovely, simple and less fraught with urgency than just moments ago. “You,” Blaine finally managed, leaning back to stare into Kurt's eyes, “steal my breath quite away, do you know this?”
“I could say the same to you,” Kurt replied with a tremulous laugh, still trying to bring his breathing back into a steady rhythm. It was difficult, though - sunlight streamed in over his shoulder to cover Blaine in a golden nimbus of light, warming his skin tone and turning his hazel eyes into miniature suns themselves. Truly he was indeed the physical embodiment of Apollo, a god dallying amongst the mortals in an earthly paradise, bringing pleasure and delight to all who crossed his path.
He was so beautiful to look upon that it made Kurt's heart ache.
Blaine was smiling as he watched Kurt. “You think so loudly I can hear you, yet I cannot make anything out clearly.” His thumb brushed over Kurt's bottom lip, gently denting the cushion of it. “Will you not share your thoughts?”
“They are nothing of consequence,” Kurt demurred, blushing. “Only that you...that you are...”
Blaine tilted his head. “I am what?”
“Beautiful. You are the god on earth, not I.” He sighed, remembering Blaine's words from the previous night through a haze of firelight and desire. It was laughable to think of himself as anything unearthly, as prosaic and bound by his insecurities and fears as he so often was.
“Can we not both be as gods on earth?” Blaine's question was softly amused, his cheeks dimpled with his sweet smile that made Kurt want to believe anything and everything he said. “I do stand by what I say, you know. I should in fact liken you to Eros, god of love and desire, for surely do you stir such things within me.”
Kurt let out a startled laugh and felt his cheeks flood with color. “I'm no such thing.”
“You are.” In a moment, Blaine's lips were on Kurt's again, and Kurt could almost feel the other man trying to breathe his assurance directly into his body.
When they broke apart, he lowered his head, still trying to understand quite how he had gotten to this so-fortunate pass. “We should get to work for the day,” he breathed, still grappling with the rush of emotion he had felt at Blaine's words. “It's only...the light, it shall fade...and we are meant to be working.”
“Ah. Indeed.” Blaine waited for Kurt to slip out of the bed before following him, ambling casually over to a puddle of sunlight that seemed to have been specifically placed there by the gods themselves for his especial use. “I suppose this will do? As I've no need to dress for what you've planned, I believe I am prepared for my day of posing.”
Swallowing hard, Kurt told himself that he could not simply drag Blaine back to bed. “I believe that you are.”
“You ought to put on something, though.” The lightly amused words floated back over Blaine's shoulder, accompanied by an arousing low chuckle. “Else I shall be distracted by you, Eros, and shall be quite happy to forget you ever spoke a single word about work.”
Kurt mulled over the pleasant images this raised in his mind, Blaine's thoughts running so very parallel with his own...surely a single day would make no difference in his work? They could get to the charcoal sketches tomorrow...
Blaine's smirk as he stood nude in his puddle of sunlight was oh, so tempting. Kurt wanted to kiss it right off his face.
But no. In the end, Kurt sighed and gathered up his trousers, sliding them up his legs and hitching the braces over his shoulders. At least one consolation was that once he was done working for the day, his model wouldn't necessarily be in a hurry to leave. In fact, he might not want to leave at all.
Considerably cheered by this thought, Kurt positively bounced over to his easel, picked up a charcoal stick and got to work.