Fic: The Moves, or Kurt and Blaine's First Time - Hearts as Magnets

heartsasmagnets

colfer

He should be happy. He's in bed, skin against bare skin, with the guy he's been pining over for months now, having just partaken in way, way too much wine and (arguably) the most intimate act two people can engage in.

He should be fucking ecstatic.

But it shouldn't have happened this way, all hands and no heart; just a blur of grabbing and pulling and nipping and thrusting with no promise of anything beyond the next second. No, not for their first time. The thin, pallid yellow sheet covering him cannot hide the shame he feels; nor can it masque the regret that's currently eating its way out from deep inside him.

Though his partner is already fast asleep, Kurt's mind is still racing and there's no way he could possibly sleep here. Now.

He shouldn't have allowed the drunken advances, but he'd been delighted that Blaine was finally making moves, moves that were very real and not imaginary like those he regularly day-dreamed. They hadn't so much as kissed or even held hands until now. But while these moves were really, physically happening, they were completely wrong. They weren't the tender or carefully deliberated moves he'd imagined in all those dreams. They were forceful and shockingly selfish.

He should have ended it after the first rough kiss, while his brain was still in control, but then those hands started touching him in places he'd never been touched before and it was overwhelming and basically everything he needed. Except that it wasn't everything. It wasn't enough.  He ached to hear his name murmured  slow across those lips, instead of the love-less 'take off your clothes' growled into his ear as they slammed down on the bed.

But at that point, there was no turning back. His body had dominated his mind and no amount of logic or need for genuine emotion could overpower their animalistic desires. They both wanted it, badly. And even though it was far from perfect, Kurt took it – and encouraged it even, he realizes now.

He's wanted so desperately to be close to Blaine, to be with Blaine in every sense of the phrase, that – in the moment – he was a willing participant. But cloudy judgment doesn't stay that way forever, and now he's facing the sober reality of his decisions.

The only glimmer of hope he can find is that alcohol doesn't create emotions, it only amplifies them. Having been far drunker than Kurt, he knows Blaine will most certainly regret his actions as well. He's always taken great care to protect him. He'd be devastated if he knew the turmoil that he – they – had caused to twist inside his chest.

He has to hope that sobriety and the light of day will bring about a real conversation. And maybe, just maybe, Blaine will admit that he wants more than a quick fuck. Maybe he'll apologize and whisper all the words Kurt has wanted to hear for all these months. I love you. You're beautiful. I'm sorry it took me so long to admit it. All the words he should have said tonight.

He feels Blaine take an extra deep breath and stir in his sleep. His hand reaches out and finds Kurt's hip bone. His hand rests there a moment before investigating its new location.

"You're still here," Blaine murmurs.

Kurt is turned away from him, unable to see if the look on his face has changed in any way at this discovery, but Blaine's tone is the greatest encouragement yet. It's not anger or fear or even confusion - well, maybe a little confusion – but mostly, it's relief.

When Blaine's hand sweeps up from his hip to his waist and pulls him in closer, all the noise in his brain dissipates and he finds he can finally close his eyes. The smallest of smiles breaks on his lips. Perhaps he will be able sleep tonight.