Kurt has never been more aware of his own dick in his entire life. That’s saying something, because he and Blaine have been having sex for five months, and his blisteringly sexy boyfriend has certainly turned him on for much longer. Still, he likes to think he’s become exceptionally skilled at repressing random, inconvenient boners.
This one is not random, though. This one is devastating in how not-random it is, and the pressure in his tight jeans accompanies a hot flush in his cheeks that is impossible to hide under his pale skin.
Cooper Anderson is staring at him across the dinner table, and Kurt is positively blushing under his attention. They only met for the first time a couple days ago, so the Andersons invited Kurt to dinner before Cooper flies back to California in the morning. “I mean it, Kurt, you could make a racket in L.A. as a stylist. You’ve got a lot of flair.”
“Thank you,” Kurt says, beaming at Cooper even as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He hasn’t gotten a chance to get up to adjust himself, and even if he could, he’s not sure how to escape the table in any sort of covert fashion, not as hard as he’s getting. Cooper’s gorgeous eyes and thick, dark hair and easy, whitened smile are almost too much to deal with head-on, and he’s leaning forward as he talks to Kurt, engaging him, charming the shit out of him, pulling him in–
Blaine, who started out the evening with sweet smiles and an easygoing attitude but has gotten more quiet and surly as the night progresses, interjects, “He’s got amazing style, but didn’t you just say, like, yesterday, that I shouldn’t let Kurt pick out my clothes, Coop?”
“You shouldn’t, yeah. Not every stylist fits every client, Squirt, that’s just obvious. Everyone has their own theme,” Cooper replies, shaking his head. “That’s what we call aesthetics, in the industry.”
“In the industry?” scoffs Blaine. “You mean on Tumblr–”
“Kurt, I think your style would really suit Hollywood. Though you’d need to go down a layer or two because of the heat,” Cooper laughs, plucking Kurt’s buttoned sleeve.
“I’ve told him about the layers,” Blaine mutters, watching Kurt’s face out of the corner of his eye.
Kurt giggles, closing his fingers in a fist to stop himself touching Cooper’s hand. Both of the Anderson brothers are incredibly tactile. Kurt could certainly lose a few layers if Cooper wanted him to. If Blaine wanted him to. If… maybe… they both wanted him to… at the same time…
He groans softly as the pressure in his dick throbs, completely uncomfortable now that he’s harder than he’s been in recent memory. Shit, shit, shit… now that he’s seen it, seen them, he can’t unsee them–
“Kurt, are you okay?” Pam asks, her presence at the table not doing anything to quell this growing problem.
“I–” Kurt fakes a coughing fit, doubling over as he turns away from the table and grasps the napkin that sits over his lap. He’s probably walking funny when he gets up and makes his way towards the bathroom, but he can’t do anything about that at this point. “I have to use the restroom, excuse me!”
He’s in the bathroom with his back against the locked door, trying to think of the grossest things he’s ever found in Finn’s laundry to calm himself down so he doesn’t come on himself at the dinner table when he hears a soft knock.
“Blaine,” he gasps in response, instinctively opening the door at the sound of his voice. Kurt finds his boyfriend staring back at him with an agitated mix of concern and annoyance. He knows, now that he’s not sitting directly in Cooper Anderson’s fog, that his behavior is painfully obvious to someone who knows him as well as Blaine does.
“He’s a good-looking guy, I know. He’s older and taller and kind of famous and looks like Superman, and I’m just me, but…” Blaine looks down at Kurt’s crotch and back up again, his glare both dejected and accusatory.
Now, rock-hard and embarrassed with only his boyfriend in his sights, Kurt can’t seem to think of anyone else. Kurt knows that even if the choice were there, he would choose Blaine, and only Blaine, because Blaine, standing in front of him, brooding and pouty with those molten eyes of his as intense as ever, is consuming his body’s focus in a way that Cooper could never accomplish.
“That’s right, you’re you,” Kurt says, pulling Blaine into the bathroom with a hand around the back of his neck, then closing the door behind him. Blaine’s arms flail almost comically for a moment before he wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist. Kurt presses into his hold and sucks Blaine’s bottom lip into his mouth before his need just tumbles out of him: “It doesn’t matter how hot your brother is because as soon as you walked in I lost whatever chance I had to get it together so once I calm down a little bit can we please skip dessert and fool around in my car before I go home?” Despite what he just said about calming down, Kurt kisses Blaine again, and again, and again, breathless and focused on his insistent dick in that way Kurt once derided before he started having sex with his boyfriend.
Blaine blinks, mouth wide open as his arms wrap tighter around Kurt’s body, and whispers, “But… dessert is cheesecake, Kurt. Mom made cheesecake. You really mean it, don’t you?”
Kurt rubs the tips of their noses together. “Yeah. Sorry I made you think differently.”
Blaine grins against his cheek, leaving soft kisses down the side of Kurt’s face, then reaches behind himself to lock the bathroom door. He reaches down and opens the top button of Kurt’s jeans, his eyes lighting up with mischief as he whispers, “If we do this right here and now, you can have your cheesecake and eat it too.”
“Blaine, did you seriously just…? Wow, maybe I do want the other brother…”