you had to know i would've said yes

hi. i'm tracy. i like blaine. this blog is NOT spoiler-free and is sometimes NSFW.

 x's and o's

under a cut because porn. also i took a few liberties because of reasons. :)

“Hey guys, I’m back,” Sam calls as he walks into their apartment. “I decided not to go to the—oh, shit, sorry, fuck!”

“Jesus Christ! Turn around!” Kurt yelps.

Sam spins and faces the door, trying desperately to forget the eyeful of Blaine’s bare ass he just got, his thick and curvy and extremely fucking naked ass, Blaine kneeling on the floor in front of the couch, his face buried in Kurt’s lap. It wasn’t a bad sight, necessarily — Sam may be straight (mostly) (he thinks), but he can appreciate the aesthetics of a nice ass, and Blaine undoubtedly has a great one. That was apparent even when he wasn’t naked. (And with a mouthful of cock, too!, Sam’s brain helpfully supplies.) But it was definitely not a sight he was intended to see, and not an image he should be keeping in his brain and he should definitely not be filing it away for the spank bank and he absolutely isn’t doing that. At all.

(Sam thinks sometimes that he might be a little bit gay.)

“Sorry, guys,” he mutters. “I, uh, really was not expecting that.”

“It’s okay,” Blaine says. “You can turn around.”

Sam turns slowly to find Blaine sitting on the couch, fully dressed.

“Kurt went ahead and went into the bedroom,” Blaine says. “Um. I’m going too. Sorry you had to see that. And sorry we were…y’know. On the couch.”

Sam shrugs. “We can flip the cushions over, I guess.”

————

It’s after midnight when Sam wanders out of his room in search of a snack. He’s surprised to find Blaine there, standing alone in the dark kitchen in just a pair of boxer briefs.

“Uh. What are you doing?” Sam asks.

“Just getting a glass of water,” Blaine says, and Sam notices the glass in his hand. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for food,” Sam replies. “Do we have any pretzels?”

“I think so,” Blaine answers, opening the cabinet. “There they are!” They’re on the top shelf, and Blaine stretches and can’t quite reach, so Sam walks over to grab them for himself. Blaine doesn’t move out of the way, so Sam just reaches over him, and as his fingers close on the bag of pretzels, he realizes that his entire body is pressed against Blaine’s back. Most importantly, his hips are flush with Blaine’s ass, his really incredible ass that Sam saw naked earlier and fuck, he’s getting hard, he has to move, why hasn’t he moved yet?

But then again, Blaine hasn’t moved either. Until he does move… but not away. Blaine pushes back against Sam’s rapidly-growing erection and lets out a tiny moan, and oh shit, Sam is grabbing Blaine’s hips to pull him closer and his breathing is getting fast and what is he doing?

Blaine’s head falls back onto Sam’s shoulder. “I knew it,” he says, turning his face toward Sam and nibbling at his neck. “I knew you wanted me.”

“Where’s Kurt?” Sam asks, because it’s really, really important that Kurt is somewhere else.

“Somewhere else,” Blaine says as he sucks Sam’s earlobe into his mouth, and Sam’s knees almost buckle. His fingers tighten on Blaine’s hips and he ruts against Blaine’s ass a little, groaning at the feel of him.

Sam doesn’t know how he ended up naked on the couch but he’s there, fully hard and practically drooling as Blaine bends over in front of him and pushes his boxer briefs to the floor. “You like?”

“Fuck yes,” Sam says, reaching out to grab a handful. Blaine practically purrs and then turns around and drops to his knees, and they’re in the exact same position that Sam walked in on earlier only now he’s the one with — fuckfuckfuck — Blaine’s hot, greedy mouth sinking down around his cock, and if this is what being gay is like then Sam is all for it. Blaine’s hands are everywhere, squeezing Sam’s thighs and pinching at his nipples and stroking gently over his balls, while his lips stay wrapped around Sam’s cock, sweet wet suction and swirling tongue and Sam’s so close already and he doesn’t want to come yet because it’s so good, why did he ever get a blowjob from anyone else? He can feel his orgasm building, his hips thrusting steadily up as Blaine just takes it, oh god, he’s going to—

Suddenly Blaine is pulling off his cock and Sam tries to protest but Blaine’s already talking.

“You should let me fuck you,” he says with a wolfish grin.

“What? Dude, I’m not gay.”

Blaine laughs. “I think that ship has sailed, Sammy, don’t you? C’mon, let me fuck you. It’ll feel so good to come with me inside of you.” He pauses and strokes his own cock a few times. “Besides,” he says, “I know you want me to.”

“Okay.”

“Turn over,” Blaine says with a wink, and Sam obeys quickly, leaning on the arm of the couch with his ass up in the air.

“Will it hurt?” he asks.

“Not even a little,” says Blaine, and then his tongue is on Sam’s asshole and holy fuck gay sex is the best idea ever, he’s heard about rimming but never thought he’d experience it for himself. Blaine’s licking his ass, long wet strokes and Sam can feel saliva dripping down onto his balls, it feels slippery and filthy and he loves it. He’s so turned on he thinks he might explode, and he’s just about to beg, literally beg Blaine to fuck him when suddenly he’s there, pushing his cock into Sam’s ass, his hands on Sam’s shoulders, his grip strong and his cock hard and hot and huge, and Sam is never ever having sex with a girl again.

“Feel good?” Blaine asks, starting to fuck Sam harder, the loud wet slap of skin on sweaty skin filling the apartment.

“Yessss,” Sam groans, shoving his ass back into Blaine’s thrusts. “Don’t stop, harder, fuck me harder.”

Blaine’s pounding into him now, moaning and cursing and Sam’s going to come, he can’t hold out any longer, every muscle in his body tensing, sweat dripping down his forehead, his knuckles white from gripping the arm of the couch. He closes his eyes and braces for his orgasm.

“Blaine,” he whimpers.

“What?”

“God, Blaine.”

“What, Sam?”

Sam opens his eyes to find a fully-dressed Blaine, who is most definitely not fucking him in the ass, staring down at him curiously. Down at him on the couch. Where Sam is lying, also fully-dressed. Because he was napping. And dreaming about incredible gay sex that he was not, it turns out, actually having.

“Were you… asleep?” Blaine asks, looking puzzled. “You said my name a couple of times and I answered you and you didn’t say anything else.”

“No,” Sam answers, shifting on the couch in an attempt to disguise his ridiculously hard dick. “Uh, I was trying to ask you if we had any pretzels.”

“I think so,” Blaine says, turning toward the kitchen. “You want some?”

“Yeah,” Sam says woefully. “I really do.”