rivers_bend

Title: Wandering Hands
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Words: 700
Rating: Teen
A/N: For my Glee girls. And day 4 of mmom
Summary: Now that he can touch Blaine, Kurt's hands seem to have a mind of their own.



Kurt spent so many months wanting to touch Blaine in ways far less publicly appropriate than the celebratory high fives and attention-getting brushes of fingers on wrists the parameters of their relationship allowed him, that now he can, he forgets that just because Blaine doesn't mind, it doesn't mean the whole public appropriateness part has become irrelevant.

"Mall," Blaine says, and Kurt thinks, Random, and slides his hand a little further up Blaine's thigh.

Then Blaine hisses, "Food court," and Kurt realizes that just because he was thinking about last night and how they were all alone sitting on the sofa watching TV and they were kissing and Kurt leaned and Blaine pulled and then they were lying on the sofa and not really watching TV at all, and Blaine was licking Kurt's neck, and Kurt was rubbing Blaine through his pants and then--

"Kurt! Seriously. Food. Court." Blaine takes Kurt's hand and holds it very tightly, and very pointedly, on the table between his tray of noodles and Kurt's tray of salad.

"Sorry," Kurt says. "I just. Last night."

Blaine's face goes soft and open. "Yeah," he says. "Last night was, yeah."

Kurt is very glad for Blaine's grip on his hand, because he doesn't think he has it in him to look at that smile and keep his hands off his boyfriend (boyfriend!) without help.

"Are you still hungry?" Blaine says, and Kurt just pushes back his chair and drags Blaine toward the escalators.

On the move, and with shopping to do, Kurt figures he'll be better. He'll be fine. But apparently his hands have other ideas. His fingers try to dip inside Blaine's waistband in the bookstore, and end up in his pockets in the line at Mrs. Fields, and Blaine has to stop them undoing his zipper behind the sale racks at Old Navy. (Kurt feels that one shouldn't even count, because why on earth would you go into Old Navy at all if not to do a little groping behind the sales racks?) "Inappropriate, inappropriate, inappropriate," Kurt murmurs to his hands, but, really, it's been less than twenty-four hours since he touched another boy's boy parts for the very first time and he's all filled with hearts and hormones and Blaine is right there, being all Blaine-like, and also being the boy whose boy parts he's allowed to touch--in private. Allowed to touch in private--and it's no surprise his hands are having a hard time.

"I want to, too," Blaine whispers while he's uncurling Kurt's fingers from his belt buckle while they look at hats in the window of H&M. "If you're done shopping, maybe we could go back to the car?"

Kurt really wanted another scarf today, and he hasn't been able to find one he likes, but Blaine's car has tinted windows and a big back seat, and-- "Let's go."

Because Gaga looks out for drunks and horny teenage boys, the corner of the parking lot they'd been forced into during the lunch rush is now empty, and Blaine doesn't even try to talk Kurt into driving anywhere else. Just as well, since Kurt's hands are back on his belt before he's even got the door shut behind them.

"God, you make me crazy," Blaine says. The way his fingers fumble for the hooks on Kurt's jacket, Kurt assumes he means in the good way.

"You make my hands do things on their own." Kurt figures that's pretty much the same thing as crazy.

This time they end up with Kurt under Blaine and both their pants open, hands and dicks and shirttails getting tangled in a way that's a little terrifying and a lot thrilling until they both calm down enough to get organized--clothes pushed up or down as appropriate, enough space between their hips to move--and then it's just as good as last night. Maybe even better.

Especially once Kurt gives up trying to figure out what to do with his hands, and lets them do their own thing.