Title: A Mild Case of Vampirism
Rating (art/fic if different): Art - G / Fic - NC-17
Word Count: ~9200 words
Warnings (if any): CRACK. vampirism. also, uh, rimming (do we warn for that?) and stupid twilight jokes. (not at the same time.)
Fic Summary: sometimes a teddy bear is just a teddy bear. this is not one of those times.
Author’s Note: this was written for kblreversebang, obvs! when i saw this adorable art, i was like I MUST HAVE IT. i was lucky enough to claim it, and to have the lovely headbandxbowties agree to my totally ridiculous story idea. ♥ i was also lucky enough to have dahlstrom as a beta! thanks to both of you for being fabulous, as well as to my tumblr followers for sticking around while i liveblogged the writing of this thing. also, allow me to reiterate: this fic is really cracky. it’s also super fluffy and a little porny. something for everyone, i hope. xoxo.
and so, with no further ado whatsoever:
A Mild Case of Vampirism
“I really don’t know why you got me a present, honey, but this is… aaargh! What the—”
“Oh my god, Kurt, you should see your face!” Blaine rests his head on his hand, laughing so hard that his entire face scrunches up. Which would be adorable, Kurt thinks, if his boyfriend wasn’t such a brat.
“Why do you hate me?”
“What?! I love you!”
“Clearly not, since you’ve decided to torment me with an evil plush toy,” Kurt says, glaring down at the fluffy brown teddy bear dressed as a vampire, complete with little fangs. When Blaine had proudly presented him with a gift bag, Kurt had been expecting a light summer scarf, maybe, or a box of chocolates. Not… this.
“Oh, come on! It’s cute,” Blaine says, still slightly breathless from laughter. He winks. “A cute present from your very cute boyfriend.”
“Vampires aren’t cute,” Kurt says. He rolls his eyes and nudges Blaine with his elbow, smiling a little despite himself. “Even if they’re bears.”
“You think Stefan Salvatore is cute,” Blaine says pointedly, raising his eyebrows. “He’s a vampire.”
“That’s different,” Kurt protests. “He’s on The CW! He’s obligated to be cute, and therefore doesn’t count.”
“But a teddy bear counts?”
“Aww, I thought it would be funny,” Blaine says, grabbing Kurt’s hand so he can kiss his fingers. “You were so adorable hiding from the vampire judge at Regionals.”
Kurt snatches his hand back playfully, wagging a finger in front of Blaine’s nose. “Oh, right, my fear is just precious!”
“Fine, I’ll take it back,” Blaine says. His lower lip sticks out in an exaggerated pout, his eyes wide and wounded as he tries to pull the bear out of Kurt’s grip. He’s way too good at that, Kurt thinks ruefully, and he clutches the bear more tightly.
“No,” Kurt says, ignoring Blaine’s triumphant grin.
“Why?” Blaine asks, all innocence and fluttering lashes.
“Because you gave it to me, and therefore I love it, duh,” Kurt says, pulling Blaine up into a seated position so he can start getting his clothes off. He probably shouldn’t find Blaine’s little boy act so hot, but, well.
“Ahhh, you luff Count Bearcula… you vant to cuddle him,” Blaine says, putting on a ridiculous Transylvanian accent and beaming at Kurt.
“No,” Kurt says, shaking his head as he starts to undo the buttons of Blaine’s mint-green cardigan. “His name is Beara Lugosi.”
“Oh, that’s adorable!” Blaine chuckles and leans forward to kiss Kurt on the cheek, his lips making a loud smacking sound. He shrugs his sweater off his shoulders, then grins at Kurt, tapping on the little stuffed bear’s head with a finger. “Perfect.”
“Well, yes, perfection is my usual M.O.,” Kurt says airily. Blaine laughs again and then pounces, tipping Kurt onto his back and shoving Beara Lugosi out of the way so he can crawl on top of Kurt and pepper his face with kisses. The bear quickly ends up on the floor buried beneath a pile of their clothes, forgotten for the rest of the night in favor of much more important (and way more naked) expressions of love.
The first hint Kurt gets that something is very, extremely, unbelievably wrong happens at 7:53 the next morning, when he discovers that he can’t see himself in the mirror in the bathroom.
His initial (admittedly nonsensical) thought is that the mirror’s broken. Okay, it shows the wall behind him and the towels on the rack, but Kurt’s lack of reflection must be, like, some sort of weird rare mirror disease. He stumbles back into his bedroom and checks the mirror in there to see if it’s suffering from the same affliction.
Which is more than a little disturbing, sure, but it’s not until Kurt notices Beara Lugosi leaning against his pillow that he actually panics. He’s positively, no question, beyond a shadow of doubt certain that the bear had been on the shelf, tucked in next to the photo of him and Blaine dancing at last year’s prom, when he’d gone to bed. Blaine had placed him there before he’d gone home, straightening his little cape and stage-whispering “take care of Kurt for me” into his furry ear.
With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Kurt brings two shaking fingertips to his neck, poking around carefully until he finds them, already scabbed over but unmistakable: the wounds from a pair of tiny fangs marring his porcelain skin. His heart races (okay, he has a heartbeat, that means he’s not undead at least, right?) as he dives for his nightstand and grabs his iPhone. Kurt taps out a text, his thumbs moving quickly across the touch screen.
Inhumanly quickly, if he’s honest with himself.
Blaine! Wake up.
I’m up I’m up! what’s wrong????
Where did you get Beara Lugosi?
that little gift shop downtown w the cute old lady
Do you mean that creepy store on the outskirts of town run by the scary witchy old lady????
that’s v harsh, baby
but yes, if you wanna be all judgey
Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie?!?
what? you hate horror movies
am I still asleep?
Get up and have some coffee. I’m coming over.
k see you soon xoxo
Kurt drops his phone back on his nightstand with a clatter and picks up the teddy bear from his bed. He walks over to his closet and pulls down the large hat box where he keeps his most personal belongings, shoving Beara in among the old letters and photographs (and, okay, a couple of vibrators, whatever) and slamming the lid back on the box. He puts the box back in place, tossing a pair of heavy boots on top of it for good measure, and shuts the closet door firmly. Too little, too late, it seems, but you can’t blame a guy for trying.
Kurt dresses quickly and automatically, too preoccupied by his new… situation to give his ensemble much thought, which would be the scariest part of his morning so far if he let himself think about it. Instead, he focuses on just getting to Blaine’s. If he can just get to Blaine’s, it’ll be okay — because Blaine makes things okay — so Kurt just needs to pull himself together and get his ass in the car.
The problem, of course, is that the car is outside. And it’s morning. And it’s sunny and gorgeous out, judging by the slivers of light peeking out at the edges of Kurt’s blinds. Shit.
Kurt finds his widest-brimmed hat and mashes it down on his head — since he can’t see himself in the mirror, his hair is probably a disaster anyway — and slides a pair of oversized sunglasses on his face, then tiptoes over toward the window. The small amount of sunlight that’s leaking through doesn’t seem to be damaging him, but direct contact? Even before he became a… a… — say it, he orders himself — a vampire, he’d tried to avoid excessive sun exposure.
With a grimace, Kurt eases back the curtain, letting sunlight slowly filter into his bedroom. So far, so good. He nudges the window open next and slowly, tentatively inches the tip of a finger (his left pinky, which he figures is probably his least important finger) out into the sun.
Emboldened, he slides his hand out further, until his arm is out the window to the elbow. There’s no twinge of pain, no wisps of smoke curling up from his skin. The light seems as if it’s been magnified and Kurt’s grateful for his UV-protective sunglasses, but otherwise, it appears he’s safe to go outside. He pushes the window up fully and sticks his head out, just to be sure, and sighs with relief when nothing happens.
“Uhhhh, mornin’, Kurt. Everything all right up there?”
Well, almost nothing happens.
“Hi Dad,” Kurt says sheepishly, waving at his father down in the driveway below.
The twenty seconds it takes for Blaine to answer his door are practically unbearable. Kurt’s going to have to invest in a pair of darker sunglasses, because all this squinting is going to give him some serious crow’s feet. Then again, he might be safe, because probably he won’t age now, he figures. Which is great, but then Blaine will age, which is not-so-great… but they have time to figure that out. Blaine’s plenty hot at seventeen, but even if it takes them a few years, a Blaine who’s permanently twenty-five might be even hotter. They’ll manage. And then they’ll be together for eternity which is way better than the seventy or eighty years Kurt had been anticipating. So there’s no reason to panic or cry or anything. Everything will be fine; Blaine just needs to open the door so Kurt can get inside and stop thinking.
When the door finally, finally, opens, Kurt attempts to throw himself into Blaine’s arms, but instead winds up staggering backwards, shoved away from the open doorway by some invisible force. He huffs in frustration.
Blaine stares at him, puzzlement slackening his face. “Um. What just happened?”
“I don’t know,” Kurt snaps, and then it dawns on him. “Wait. Yes I do. Invite me in.”
“…Kurt, please come in?”
Kurt gingerly steps through the doorway, sighing with relief when his boot makes contact with the polished wood floor of the foyer. He’d been tempted to just sort of leap through, maybe with a running start the way he used to do as a kid — to make sure the monster under his bed couldn’t grab his ankle, obviously — but he’s glad he didn’t.
He’s pretty sure vampires are supposed to be cooler than that.
“Okay, hi,” Blaine says, giving Kurt a hard, quick kiss on the mouth, and wow, he tastes so good. Gosh your lips look delicious, Kurt thinks to himself. He giggles and Blaine stares at him, looking mildly concerned. I’m losing it. This is what it feels like to be crazy, isn’t it? Kurt giggles again.
“Is there something on my face?”
“Nope, just handsomeness,” Kurt says quickly, pinching himself on the thigh in an attempt to regain composure. “We should talk.”
“We… are talking?”
“No, like, talk talk,” Kurt clarifies.
“Oh my god,” Blaine says, grabbing Kurt’s arm. “No.”
“I know what you’re going to say, and—”
“I very much doubt you know what I’m going to say,” Kurt interrupts.
“Of course I know what you’re going to say, I’ve seen literally dozens of romantic comedies and I know what ‘we need to talk’ means and—”
“Blaine, stop — I’m not breaking up with you!”
“Of course not,” Kurt says impatiently. “I’m never breaking up with you. Ever.”
“Oh. Okay then,” Blaine says, his breath coming out in a relieved whoosh. He offers Kurt a shaky smile. “Thank god!”
“Don’t go thanking any deities just yet,” Kurt says, taking Blaine’s hand and dragging him toward the staircase. “This is… oh god, this is so screwed up. Let’s go upstairs.”
“Okay,” Blaine says. He lets Kurt pull him along easily, twining their fingers together and giving Kurt’s hand a soft squeeze.
“So, I have to show you something,” Kurt says when they reach the top of the stairs. If he just comes out with it, Blaine’s going to think he’s lost his mind, so Kurt figures a practical demonstration is the best way to handle this.
“Okay,” Blaine says again.
“And I need you to not freak out,” Kurt adds as they walk into Blaine’s room. He shuts the door behind them — they’re alone in the house, but it can’t hurt — and leans back against it, suddenly nervous. What if Blaine runs away screaming?
“Kurt, you of all people know exactly how open-minded I am. I love you and I respect you and I would never judge you,” Blaine says sweetly.
“It’s not that kind of thing,” Kurt says, shaking his head.
“Okay,” Blaine says. His voice is low and soothing as he takes one of Kurt’s hands in both of his own. “What kind of thing is it?”
“Go stand in front of the mirror.”
“Just do it, please,” Kurt says with as much patience as he can muster.
Blaine steps in front of the mirror with a shrug. He turns his head left and right, tugs gently at his red cardigan to straighten it, then carefully smooths his already-smooth hair. Kurt situates himself a few feet to Blaine’s side, just far enough that he wouldn’t show up in the mirror even if he did have a reflection.
“So you see yourself, obviously,” Kurt says nervously.
“Uh, yeah,” Blaine says. He turns and gives Kurt a perplexed look. “Okay, I’m confused. I thought you wanted to show me something. You wanted to show me… me?”
“No,” Kurt says. He steps next to Blaine so that they’re shoulder-to-shoulder and jerks his chin toward the mirror. This is it. Moment of truth. He braces himself.
“See what’s missing?”
“Whoa,” Blaine says, gaping at the empty space next to his reflection. He rubs his eyes and looks again, then looks back at Kurt, then back at the mirror. “How are you doing that?”
“I’m pretty sure that last night while I was asleep Beara Lugosi bit me and I’m a vampire now,” Kurt says, the words spilling out of him in a rush.
Blaine’s eyebrows shoot up practically into his hair. “What?!”
Kurt pulls aside the collar of his shirt so that Blaine can see the small, barely-visible puncture marks in his neck. “Bitten. Neck. Vampire.”
“It was a teddy bear,” Blaine says faintly. He presses a fingertip lightly over the marks. “I… well. Wow. I didn’t think this was possible. I, uh. Shit, Kurt. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Kurt says. Which, no, of course it’s not okay, it’s pretty much epically not okay, but it’s not Blaine’s fault (except for how it kind of is). Kurt isn’t sure what else to say — there’s a dull roar in his ears that sounds an awful lot like impending panic. He wonders if vampires have panic attacks. Or if they see psychiatrists. Or if psychiatrists know how to treat vampires. What if I have a panic attack and normal drugs won’t work? Maybe I’ll need to get one of those medical I.D. bracelets. Kurt Hummel, Vampire, Shellfish Allergy, Emergency Contact: Blaine Anderson. Those are always hideous, though. Maybe I can design my own. I wonder if I can wear silver. Or are those usually stainless steel?
Meanwhile, Blaine’s focused on what he seems to see as more immediate concerns, so Kurt tries desperately to pull himself together and rejoin the conversation.
“…and wait, how did you even get here? Vampires aren’t supposed to be out and about during daylight hours,” Blaine says. Every time he stops talking, he stares at Kurt, open-mouthed. It’s sort of cute.
“I can go out in the sun, apparently,” Kurt says, scrubbing his hands over his pale face. “I made a total ass out of myself in front of my dad trying to test it out, and it seemed a lot brighter than normal outside, but I didn’t burst into flames or melt or anything.”
“Okay, well… that’s a good start,” Blaine says, his mouth still hanging half-open. He shuts it abruptly, and he looks pretty composed for approximately two seconds, until his jaw drops again as his eyes widen in a way that would be comical if everything wasn’t so fucked up. “Did you… sparkle?” His voice is hushed.
“You did not just compare me to Edward Cullen,” Kurt gasps, indignation momentarily distracting him from his predicament. “You know how I feel about him.”
“Sorry, sorry, I have a limited frame of reference here,” Blaine says soothingly, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “In most vampire mythology you can’t go in the sun, at least without some kind of… you know, amulet, or something. Like the rings on The Vampire Diaries. Otherwise, it’s either sparkles or, um. You know… crispy,” he finishes with a grimace.
“Well, I guess most vampire mythology is inaccurate,” Kurt says, trying to rein in the edge of hysteria that’s creeping into his voice. Blaine seems calm. Kurt can be calm, too.
“Apparently,” Blaine says, looking thoughtful. “It might be a good starting place, though? Like… media representations of vampires. If vampires really do exist — well, obviously they do — then the mythology could be based in truth. Maybe some real information made its way into fiction.”
“Maybe,” Kurt says weakly.
“We could try some different things,” Blaine says, his eyes lighting up. “You know, test out some different alleged vampire abilities, different possibilities, to try and figure out exactly what we’re dealing with here.”
“I guess,” Kurt says, biting his lip and wincing at the feel of his teeth. It doesn’t hurt, they’re just his normal human teeth, but he can’t help but think about, well… fangs.
“Okay, great,” Blaine says enthusiastically, bouncing slightly where he’s seated on the edge of his bed and tapping a finger against his chin. “Well for starters, on Buffy when someone became a vampire they lost their soul and were possessed by a demon. You… do you feel like there’s any chance you might contain a demon?”
It’s stupid that it hurts his feelings, but it does. “Are you kidding me?”
“That’s not really an answer,” Blaine says, blinking up at Kurt and grabbing his hand. His tone is earnest when he continues, his thumb rubbing in slow circles against Kurt’s palm. “You can tell me the truth. I won’t love you any less.”
“No, I do not contain a demon,” Kurt snaps, snatching his hand out of Blaine’s grip.
“Are you positive? Because you’re being kind of mean right now,” Blaine says carefully, his brow furrowing.
“Because I’m freaking out! I’m a vampire! I hate vampires! They’re awful and now I’m one and I don’t know what I’m going to do and I can’t believe you’re being so casual about this!” So much for being calm.
“Oh, hey, hey… Kurt,” Blaine says. He jumps up from the bed and wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist, pulling him into a hug. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… do you want me to freak out?”
“No, not really,” Kurt says woefully, sliding his arms around Blaine with a grateful sigh. It feels so much better in his arms, wrapped up in love and warmth and Blaine’s familiar scent, hair gel and fabric softener and soft, clean skin. “I just don’t know why you’re not.”
“Well, I am a little bit, but look — you’re still you, and I love you, and we’ll get through this. Together. That’s what we do. And vampires are not awful. You’re certainly not.”
“Thank you,” Kurt whispers, tightening his grip around Blaine’s shoulders. The tension is draining out of his body, and for the first time in hours, he feels like he can really breathe.
“Of course. And… you… you still love me right? Even though you’re a vampire?”
“Blaine Anderson, I could be a grunting, drooling, brain-eating zombie and I would still love you,” Kurt swears, nuzzling his cheek against Blaine’s face. God, he smells so good.
“Aww,” Blaine coos, and Kurt can feel his cheek shift as he grins. “That’s so sweet.”
“You’re sweet. And to be honest, I would look good sparkly,” Kurt admits.
“You always look good,” Blaine says softly. He chuckles as Kurt noses into his neck, inhaling deeply. “That tickles.”
“Mmm,” Kurt says, replacing his nose with his lips and kissing at Blaine’s warm, delicious-smelling skin. Blaine sighs a little and tilts his head to give Kurt more room to work, moaning quietly when Kurt trails his tongue along his neck, wet and soft and teasing.
“No,” Blaine says roughly, shifting a little so his erection presses against the top of Kurt’s thigh. “Feels good.”
“You taste so good,” Kurt murmurs, laving at Blaine’s skin a little harder, reveling in the warm salty-sweet taste on his tongue. “Makes me want to — oh, fuck.”
“What?” Blaine says worriedly, reaching out for Kurt as he leaps away, one hand clapped over his mouth.
“Fnnks,” Kurt says, his voice muffled by his hand.
“My fangs,” Kurt says, lifting his hand slightly away from his face but still blocking Blaine’s view. “I have fangs, apparently, and. They… um. They’re out. I think I was kind of maybe thinking about biting you a little.”
“Oh,” Blaine says. He reaches for Kurt’s hand, pulling it away from his face and interlocking their fingers. “Let me see.”
“Mmph,” Kurt says, pressing his lips together tightly and shaking his head.
“Kurt,” Blaine says, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay, I promise. Let me see, please?”
“Yeah, okay,” Kurt says, reluctantly opening his mouth. He slides his tongue out to feel his fangs, sharp and slightly curved, protruding down from where his canines would normally be.
“Wow,” Blaine says, his voice soft, almost reverent. He stares for a long, silent moment, then smiles nervously, lifting his eyes to meet Kurt’s gaze. “You can, if you want.”
“You can bite me, if you want,” Blaine says with a blush, and he tips his head back slowly to expose his throat. “I… I kind of want you to.”
Kurt’s heart pounds as he stands frozen, staring at the sleek, inviting expanse of Blaine’s neck. He can practically smell the blood rushing beneath Blaine’s smooth golden skin all of a sudden, and his mouth waters at the thought of tasting Blaine, not just his lips or fingers or cock but inside in a way he never has before, even on the occasions he’s had Blaine spread out on the bed, naked and babbling with Kurt’s tongue in his ass.
“Blaine, are you sure?” he asks, his voice sounding painfully young to his ears. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I trust you,” Blaine says, his breath hitching a little as he unbuttons the top few buttons of his shirt, exposing more skin. He meets Kurt’s gaze, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded, and pulls his shirt away from his neck. “Do it.”
“Okay,” Kurt says, stepping close and running his fingers down Blaine’s throat, satiny and tempting against his fingertips. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Blaine whispers, shivering when Kurt’s lips graze his neck. Kurt presses light kisses along Blaine’s heated skin, then, when he finds a spot that seems right, bites down.
“Ow! Wait! Florida! Florida!”
Kurt leaps away from Blaine for the second time of the day, stammering out an apology as he backs into Blaine’s desk, knocking a stack of papers to the floor.
“Oh my god, honey, are you okay?”
“That wasn’t sexy at all!” Blaine looks mildly outraged as he turns to the mirror, glaring at the small puncture marks in his neck. “That felt like… well, like being bitten.”
“I never said it would be sexy,” Kurt says, torn between sympathy and frustration. “I told you I didn’t know what I was doing! Why did you let me do that?”
“It seems sexy in movies and TV,” Blaine says sulkily. “People on True Blood love it. I always sort of had a vampire fantasy. I thought it would be hot.”
“Not so much, huh?” Kurt murmurs, as sympathy wins out. He steps up behind Blaine and kisses his cheek gently from behind, more relieved than he wants to admit that Blaine doesn’t flinch away from him.
“No! It sucked,” Blaine says. He sags back against Kurt with a sigh. “No pun intended.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Kurt says. “We won’t do that again.”
“No,” Blaine agrees, turning in Kurt’s arms and planting a tiny kiss on the corner of his mouth. Kurt cups Blaine’s face in his hands and kisses him again, a little harder than he might normally, but it’s been a truly bizarre day and it’s not even lunchtime yet, so he figures it’s acceptable. He’s about to go in for another kiss when he remembers something.
“Also, um. You know, you didn’t have to safeword,” Kurt says with a small, slightly hysterical giggle. “You could’ve just said ‘stop’.”
Blaine sighs again. “I just… it sort of felt like a sexy roleplay, and I think I thought you might think I was just playing along.” He perks up suddenly, pulling back a little so he can meet Kurt’s eyes, and he’s positively beaming. “Actually, though, that makes me think of something else we could try.”
“Don’t you think we’ve done enough for one day?” Kurt asks, rubbing his thumb gently along Blaine’s cheekbone.
“Not of thiiiiiiis,” Blaine sing-songs, waggling his eyebrows and sliding his fingertips into the waistband of Kurt’s jeans. He tugs meaningfully on the denim, then plucks at the button, meeting Kurt’s eyes with a mischievous grin. Kurt sucks in a breath as Blaine licks his lips, slow and deliberate. “May I?”
Kurt’s got Blaine flat on his back on the bed, his wrists pinned on either side of his head, before he makes the conscious decision that yes, we should totally have sex now.
“Vampire speed,” Blaine gasps, staring up at Kurt with his eyes wide and dark. He’s so hard already that Kurt can feel him straining against his pants, so he grinds down a little, just to tease. Blaine groans and Kurt practically growls in response; he feels… he just feels. Feels powerful and sexy and so turned-on, and he can smell Blaine’s arousal and it’s the best, hottest thing ever, like blood and cinnamon and woodsmoke, curling through his nostrils and into his belly, and he has to have Blaine now.
“Take your clothes off,” Kurt orders, shedding his own layers in less than a second, and yes, this vampire speed thing is going to come in so handy. He strokes his dick a little absently while he waits for Blaine to finish stripping, his mouth watering at the sight of his boyfriend’s flushed, leaking cock. Kurt drops down immediately to suck it between his lips, feeling a rush of satisfaction when Blaine lets out a shaky moan, thrusting up into Kurt’s mouth and winding his fingers into his hair.
It feels perfect and glorious and still like not quite enough, so Kurt scoots off the edge of the bed and into a standing position, grabbing Blaine’s hips and yanking them upwards without thinking. Kurt sucks several hot, open-mouthed kisses over Blaine’s hole before he realizes that the only parts of Blaine left on the bed are his head and shoulders. Oh.
“Ohmygod,” Blaine gasps, his eyes flying open and promptly rolling back in his head. “Uh. Oh god. So strong.”
“This okay?” Kurt’s voice is a little muffled, but he can’t really bring himself to move his mouth away.
“Fuck yes, oh my god, don’t stop,” Blaine whimpers, grabbing the backs of his own thighs and pulling his knees toward his chest. He’s practically bent in half and almost upside-down and positively shameless, writhing and pushing his ass up against Kurt’s face as much as he can; Kurt feels like gay vampire Casanova and it’s fucking awesome.
“Mmmm,” Kurt hums, ecstatic. He mouths at Blaine’s balls and then lower, licking over his entrance and then pressing inside, relishing Blaine’s taste, dark and heavy on his tongue. He shifts his hands up a little so he’s cupping Blaine’s ass, supporting him easily with a few fingers and using his thumbs to pull his cheeks apart, giving himself better access so he can thrust his tongue in deeper.
“Yeah, Kurt, Kurt,” Blaine groans. “Wait… inside, please, I need you inside.”
Kurt slides his tongue out of Blaine and nips gently at the curve of his ass — no fangs, of course. “I was inside,” he says, pressing kisses to Blaine’s hot, slightly sweaty skin.
“Your cock,” Blaine says, trying futilely to wriggle free from Kurt’s grasp. “Come on, want your cock in me.”
“If you insist,” Kurt says, flipping Blaine over easily and retrieving the lube from the nightstand before Blaine’s elbows hit the mattress. He pops the cap on the lube and grins; he’s never felt more confident in his own sexual prowess. “Brace yourself, sweetheart. I’m pretty sure I’m about to rock your world.”
Afterwards, Blaine collapses into a sweaty, panting, naked puddle of boy, and Kurt can’t help but preen a little as he stretches out next to him, loose-limbed and delightfully tingly from his own orgasm.
“So, vampire sex, hmmm? Was it amazing?”
“Um. Sex with you is always amazing,” Blaine says weakly, cracking one eye open and offering Kurt a sweet smile.
Kurt blinks. He’s pretty sure he just kicked all sorts of ass, sexually-speaking, but— “It was more amazing than usual, though, right?”
“Full disclosure,” Kurt agrees. “Tell me.”
“I don’t — look,” Blaine says, opening his other eye and fixing Kurt with a warm, earnest stare. “Sex with you is so special and incredible and I love you so much and I don’t want you to think that I’ve ever been less than satisfied… but that was the most fantastic thing that has ever happened to my body and I hope we can do it again as soon as the feeling returns to my legs, because damn.”
“I knew it,” Kurt says, wrapping his arms around Blaine and kissing him, triumphant and giddy and wondering how long, exactly, it’ll take for the feeling to come back to Blaine’s legs.
(It takes seventeen minutes.)
The next morning, Beara Lugosi is back in Kurt’s bed. Kurt grimaces and carries him into Finn’s room while Finn’s in the bathroom. He wedges the bear into the bottom of the huge duffel bag where Finn keeps his old football gear (holding his breath to avoid smelling the no-doubt nasty odor with his sensitive vampire nose) and zips up the bag.
That day, Kurt tries — with Blaine’s supervision and encouragement, of course — to fly (nope) or to change into a bat (not a chance). They also hesitantly test out touching Kurt with a crucifix, which does nothing, and a silver necklace, which it turns out isn’t exactly painful, but itches horribly.
“That’s fine,” Kurt says, shrugging one shoulder. “I was planning on a platinum band, anyway.”
Blaine smiles. “Do you mean for a wedding ring?”
“Obviously,” Kurt says.
The following, Kurt wakes up with the bear back in his bed, staring at him blankly from the pillow next to his head. Kurt curses, tosses the bear into a suitcase, and locks the suitcase in the trunk of Carole’s car. He collapses back onto his bed when he’s finished, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face in his arms. His phone vibrates on his nightstand and he gropes blindly for it, raising his head enough to read the text.
good morning gorgeous!
how are you today?
I feel like crap, actually.
human food isn’t cutting it, is it? :/
idk, it’s not so much that I feel hungry as I just feel lousy.
I have a headache, I’m exhausted, etc.
you should bite me
you need it! it’s okay. there’s an artery or something in the thigh, maybe that would hurt less
Is there an artery in the ass? Yours is so padded you probably wouldn’t feel a thing.
No, seriously I’m not biting you.
I’ll think of something
An hour later, Kurt’s dozing in bed when he hears Blaine greeting his father downstairs (vampire hearing is really convenient, it turns out). Blaine appears in the doorway to his room a moment later, carrying an armful of bags.
“Hi baby,” he says softly, setting down his bags and stripping off his cardigan. “Okay, so, good news — I have a plan to fix you up.”
Kurt sits up in bed, crossing his arms and giving his most stern look. “I’m not biting you, Blaine.”
“No, I know,” Blaine says earnestly, picking up the largest bag and setting it in his lap. “I had an epiphany, though, and I think I found the solution.”
Kurt smells it a split-second before he hears the tiny mew, and he gasps. “Is that a kitten?”
“Yup,” Blaine says proudly, unzipping the duffel bag on his lap and pulling out a tiny stripey gray ball of fluff. He sets it on the bed and it promptly falls over with a little squeak. “Step one in the fixing you up process!”
“Okay, no,” Kurt says, aghast. “I’m not biting a kitten, Blaine! That’s incredibly disturbing, plus I’d get fur in my mouth.”
“Oh my god,” Blaine says, snatching the kitten up and looking horrified. “She’s a comfort kitten, not a canapé! I felt bad about the whole vampire bear, um, incident so I thought I’d apologize with a kitten. Carole said you could have her. She’s just a regular kitten from a totally non-questionable animal shelter, I promise.”
“Oh,” Kurt says, burying his face in his hands and laughing. “That’s… okay, that’s sweet. Thank you.”
Blaine scratches the kitten behind the ears and shoots Kurt a bright — if slightly nervous — smile. “You’re not going to bite her, right?!”
“Noooo, I said I wasn’t going to! I just thought you wanted me to!”
“No, I didn’t want you to bite the kitten. I brought some steaks,” Blaine says, shaking his head and chuckling.”That’s step two in fixing you up. I thought a nice, extremely rare steak might at least give you some of what you need.”
“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Kurt says thoughtfully. “That sounds really good right now, and you know I’m not usually much of a steak enthusiast. What a smart boyfriend I have.”
“I have my moments,” Blaine says, shuffling forward on his knees and leaning down a little, offering his cheek for Kurt to kiss.
“Mmm, you do,” Kurt agrees, kissing Blaine’s cheek and then nudging it with his nose so that Blaine turns his head and he can kiss him properly. “Now, give me Canapé so that we can get to know each other.”
Blaine cracks up and hands over the kitten, who immediately snuggles into Kurt’s chest. “You’re calling her Canapé?”
“It was your idea.”
The steak actually helps — Kurt feels more alert after just a few bites, and by the time he’s finished eating, his headache is completely gone. Blaine admits he hadn’t been remotely sure it would work, since it was what Lestat had called “dead blood,” but Kurt just shrugs and kisses him, then picks up Canapé and makes her kiss Blaine, too.
“My back-up plan was other bodily fluids,” Blaine says later, when they’re sprawled across Kurt’s bed playing with the kitten.
“You mean like… come?” Kurt quirks an eyebrow.
“Well, yeah,” Blaine says sheepishly, his cheeks turning a little pink. “I figured it probably has a lot of the same stuff in it as blood. And it can give life, so. I don’t know. It was just a thought.”
“I think this thought requires further research,” Kurt says, and Blaine looks so pleased that Kurt can’t help but laugh as he reaches for his zipper.
The next morning Beara Lugosi is cuddled in between Kurt and Canapé. Kurt sighs and stumbles downstairs and into the basement, moving aside boxes of assorted junk and out-of-season clothes until he finds the small safe where his dad keeps important papers and a few small valuables. He opens the safe, shoves the bear inside, and slams the door, double-checking that the safe is locked.
“Okay, I thought next we’d try compulsion,” Blaine says that afternoon, shutting his bedroom door behind them and taking Kurt’s hand, tugging him onto the bed. They sit cross-legged, facing each other, and once they get settled, Kurt raises his eyebrows at Blaine’s words.
“Compulsion? Like… OCD?”
“Not exactly,” Blaine says. He grins, his eyes crinkling up at the corners, and Kurt can’t help but smile back. “Sometimes it’s called glamouring? It’s like… you compel me to do something, just by telling me to do it.”
“Oh,” Kurt says, considering.
“Yeah, so just… tell me to do something.”
Kurt pauses and looks at Blaine’s sweet, eager face. “I don’t think this is going to work.”
“Trust me,” Kurt says with a laugh, patting Blaine’s knee.
“I do trust you,” Blaine says enthusiastically. “That’s why we should try it. I know you won’t make me do anything bad. It’s fine, Kurt.”
“No, that’s not it. I just… ” Kurt tries to find a polite way to say it, but Blaine’s hopeful expression weakens his resolve.
“Okay, fine. Stand up.”
“Actually, I think I need water. Go get me a glass?”
Blaine nods and leaves the room, returning a moment later with a glass of water with two ice cubes, which he hands to Kurt with a smile.
Blaine sits, and Kurt presses his lips together to keep from giggling. “You know,” he says thoughtfully, “before we do this, I’d really like a blowjob.”
“Oh,” Blaine says, looking startled, then he shrugs and grins. “We can do that.”
Kurt cracks up.
“I’m not compelling you, Blaine, you do realize that, right?”
“Of course, I… oh.” Blaine huffs out a laugh, his cheeks flushing.
“Now do you see why I said this wouldn’t work?”
Blaine narrows his eyes and pretends to glare. “Are you saying that I’m whipped?”
“No, I’m saying that you’re a very, very good boy,” Kurt says teasingly, arching an eyebrow and grinning when Blaine shivers.
“And you’re a bad, bad man,” Blaine says, pouting. “You’re playing dirty.”
“You love it.”
“I really do,” Blaine says, leaning in to kiss him. Kurt sighs happily as their lips slide together, warm and sweet. Kissing Blaine has always been incredible — their first kiss had felt like a miracle — but kissing Blaine now that Kurt’s a vampire is even better. Blaine’s taste seems stronger, his lips seem softer, the sound of his heartbeat louder. Kurt deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into Blaine’s mouth and licking along the edges of his teeth, and he’s just nudging Blaine onto his back when Blaine pulls away with a gasp.
“Hey!” Blaine says, blinking up at him slowly.
“You distracted me from our experiment.”
“There are better ways of experimenting,” Kurt says, nuzzling against Blaine’s cheek.
“Nooooo, come on, try and make me do something I don’t want to do,” Blaine says. “I’m so curious!”
“Okay, okay.” Kurt sighs; Blaine’s not the only one who has a hard time saying no to his boyfriend. He sits up and closes his eyes for a few seconds, then looks at Blaine, who’s staring at him, his gaze bright and hopeful. If this actually works, I’m going to feel extremely stupid for saying this, Kurt thinks vaguely.
“Hit me,” he says, with as much conviction as he can muster, keeping his eyes locked with Blaine’s.
“No,” Blaine shouts, throwing himself backward as his hand swings up towards Kurt. He tumbles off the bed and onto the floor, landing with a thud. “Aaahh! No no no! Stop!”
“Never mind, don’t hit me,” Kurt says hastily, scrambling to look at Blaine over the edge of the bed, and Blaine gasps with relief as his arm, which had apparently been trying really hard to get to Kurt, drops back to his side. He lies panting for a minute, his forehead a little sweaty from the exertion of resisting Kurt’s order, and Kurt feels just awful.
“Are you okay?!”
“Ow,” Blaine says sadly, looking up at Kurt with major puppy eyes, and oh, he’s so cute. “I landed on my shoulder.”
“I’m sorry!” Kurt dives forward, hanging half off the bed to quickly kiss the frown off Blaine’s mouth. “I didn’t think it would actually work!”
“That was horrible!” Blaine sits up slowly, then grabs the edge of the bed and pulls himself to his feet. “You couldn’t just tell me to burn my bowties or something?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t give it that much thought! It’s not like I have any experience with this,” Kurt protests, patting the bed next to him and petting at Blaine’s leg when he sits back down. “Besides, you didn’t actually hit me, so I must not be very good at it.”
“It felt like you were good at it,” Blaine says, grimacing. “I just really didn’t want to hit you, so I fought off the invisible gorilla that had my arm.”
“Invisible gorilla?” Kurt says. He tries to hold back his snort but doesn’t quite succeed.
“Oh, stop, I’m allowed to be a little flustered right now. That was weird.”
“Hey, I really am sorry,” Kurt says, leaning forward so he can drop a soft kiss on Blaine’s cheek. “Terrible decision on my part. Irresponsible compelling by an amateur vampire. Mea culpa.”
“I forgive you,” Blaine says wearily, rubbing at his shoulder. “Do you want to try something else? A little less domestic abuse-flavored, perhaps?”
“No,” Kurt says with a vigorous shake of his head. “I want to cuddle with my boyfriend and not do weird vampire things.” He leans back on the pillows and opens his arms, humming happily when Blaine nestles into them, resting his head just below Kurt’s chin.
“I really do want to know if you can compel people, though,” Blaine says. “It could come in very handy, to be able to get people to just do what you say.”
“That’s possibly the most devious thing I’ve ever heard you say, sweetie,” Kurt says, kissing his forehead.
“Hey, I have a hot vampire boyfriend, okay, I’m plenty devious.”
“Sure you are, Bella.”
“Oh, hilarious,” Blaine grumbles.
“Aw, c’mon Buffy,” Kurt croons.
“I’ll allow Buffy,” Blaine says after a long pause. “She’s, like, a feminist icon.”
“Does that make me Angel or Spike?” Kurt wonders, lazily stroking Blaine’s hair.
“You’re still Kurt. I don’t want you to be anyone else.”
Kurt almost coos out loud at that, and he pulls Blaine a little closer, just because.
“Besides, David Boreanaz aged like forty years between the start of Buffy and the end of Angel. And Spike wrote that awful poetry. They hooked up, though, did you know that? Joss Whedon said so.”
“Fascinating,” Kurt says. “You know, Rachel once compared herself and Finn to Buffy and Angel?”
“Melodramatic and doomed?” Blaine says with a snort, then he claps a hand over his mouth. “Sorry, that was mean.”
“But accurate,” Kurt says, pulling Blaine’s hand away from his mouth so he can kiss his fingertips. “Also, I have an idea for a way to try out compulsion.”
“Can it wait for tomorrow? I was planning to see if I could compel you into making out with me for a while,” Blaine says hopefully. “That is, unless you’d rather—mmmph!”
Kurt smiles against Blaine’s lips and kisses him again, because there’s nothing he’d rather do.
The next day, Beara Lugosi is back in Kurt’s bed. He mumbles “oh, screw you,” shoves the bear under his pillow, and goes back to sleep.
“Kurt! Blaine! What a lovely surprise,” Rachel says that afternoon, beaming at them as she steps back from the door. “Please, come in!”
“Thanks for the invitation,” Kurt says cheerfully, stepping across the threshold and into the house. “We were just in the neighborhood and thought we’d drop by, say hello. Are your Dads home?”
“No, they’re out looking at tile; they’re redoing the master bathroom this summer and they can’t decide between blues or greens. It’s been a point of contention for weeks.”
“Can’t they just do blue and green? Or blue-green?” Blaine asks, ever the voice of reason. Kurt pats him on the shoulder, squeezing just a little to be sure he has Blaine’s attention, then turns his focus on Rachel.
“Rachel,” Kurt says, ducking his head a bit to meet her eyes. “Say Barbra Streisand is a hack.”
“Barbra Streisand is a hack.”
“Holy crap,” Blaine mutters under his breath, as Rachel blinks at them mildly.
“Barbra Streisand is a hack?” she repeats, giving them a confused smile, and Kurt bites his lip to keep from giggling.
“Say I’m a better singer than you,” Kurt says, tilting his head but maintaining eye contact.
“You’re a better singer than me, Kurt,” she says, nodding emphatically. “Absolutely.”
“Kurt,” Blaine says, his tone pleasant, but Kurt can recognize a hint of warning in his voice. “I think we need to go, we have that thing. You know.”
“Right,” Kurt says, still looking at Rachel. It’s kind of fun to be able to boss her around so easily.
“Rachel… tell me a secret that nobody knows,” he says curiously. She tells him so much that he can’t help but wonder what she holds back.
“I have recurring erotic dreams about Quinn,” she says, her eyes going a little hazy. “They’re very confusing for me, but I enjoy them. Sometimes when I wake up, I tou—”
“Stop talking,” Kurt says quickly, barely resisting the urge to shove his fingers in his ears. Oops.
Rachel shuts her mouth abruptly, then shakes her head and turns back to Blaine.
“I told them to do a mix of blues and greens, but frankly, I think it’s just a battle of wills at this point,” she says. “From what I understand, this debate is only secondary to The Great Brunch Debacle of 2003.”
“That… sounds intense,” Blaine says politely. “Brunch is the most important meal of the weekend.”
“Speaking of which, we have to run to the garage to see my dad,” Kurt blurts out, grabbing Blaine’s hand and dragging him back toward the door.
Rachel stares at him. “What does that have to do with brunch?”
“It’s a long story,” Blaine says, giving her a regretful smile as Kurt yanks him out of the house. “We’ll explain later. It was nice to see you!”
“Oh my god, I feel like such an asshole,” Kurt groans when they’re back in the car. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You really shouldn’t have,” Blaine agrees as he pulls out of Rachel’s driveway.
“I abused my power and took advantage of my best friend,” Kurt says, burying his face in his hands. “Poor Rachel. We shouldn’t have heard that.”
Blaine glances over at him briefly. “You know what you have to do now?”
“Even it out. Tell her about Chicago.”
“Nooooo,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “That… we’d just won Nationals, I cannot be held responsible for that.”
“It was so hot,” Blaine says dreamily.
“It was, but oh my god I’m not telling Rachel about it. She’d tell Finn and he’d never be able to look either of us in the eye again,” Kurt says, even as he thrills a little at the memory, out on the hotel balcony with his pants shoved down around his thighs, Blaine grinding into him from behind as Finn watched TV right inside the room, only a few feet away but completely oblivious.
“Then… tell her about the vibrator,” Blaine suggests.
“What?! That’s not equivalent at all!”
“The handcuff incident?”
By the end of the week, Kurt has attempted every vampire ability that he or Blaine has ever heard of. He can’t read minds, he can heal quickly (Blaine had refused to be involved in that experiment, so Kurt had purposely nicked himself during his bi-monthly shave, just to see), and he can indeed survive without blood as long as he eats a rare steak every few days. Immortality is still a big question mark, since neither of them can think of a way to test it, but it does turn out that Kurt doesn’t technically need to breathe, which he determines after submerging himself in a bubble bath for ten minutes.
Vampire sex, of course, is still fucking awesome.
Kurt comes out to his dad the following week, and it’s oddly familiar.
“What I am… is a vampire,” he says.
“I know,” Burt says. “I’ve known since last Tuesday. You ate a giant steak that was practically raw, and Blaine has tooth marks in his neck.”
“Oh,” Kurt says.
Blaine’s final diagnosis, he informs Kurt, is a mild case of vampirism.
“That sounds kind of like being a little bit pregnant,” Kurt says, stretching luxuriously under the sheets.
“Yeah, but with less throwing up and way more awesome sex,” Blaine says, flushed and naked and — once again — waiting for the feeling to return to his legs.
To celebrate Kurt’s coming out to his dad, Kurt compels Blaine’s parents into letting him spend the weekend at Blaine’s house (a valid use of his powers, they agree). He tucks Beara Lugosi into his overnight bag with a shrug, assigns Carole to kittensit Canapé, promises his dad that he’ll behave responsibly, and makes a small detour on his way to Blaine’s.
Blaine’s face lights up when he sees the gift bag. “You got me a present?”
“For being my boyfriend,” Kurt says sweetly.
“Aw. Being your boyfriend is a present, wrapped up all pretty and with a bow and everything,” Blaine replies, peering inside the bag curiously.
“Just open it, silly, and meet Michael J. Fuzz.”
Blaine pulls the stuffed animal out of the bag and bursts out laughing. “…A werewolf, really?”
Kurt snickers. “Well, your weird vampire fantasy sort of came true, so I figured it was only fair that I get a shot, too.”
“You’re trying to turn me into Jacob?! But that means I’d have to creepily lust after your future newborn,” Blaine says, wrinkling his nose.
“Okay first of all, it’s not lust, it’s imprinting and therefore not creepy, and secondly, everyone knows that Twilight would’ve been a thousand times better if the love story had been between Jacob and Edward, so we’ll just… rewrite it a little.”
“Fine. Get Beara,” Blaine says, his eyes twinkling. Kurt fetches the bear from his bag and sits back down next to Blaine, cackling when Blaine thrusts the wolf at the vampire bear, mimicking the motions of a passionate kiss.
“Oh Beara, you’re soooo hot, mmmmm,” Blaine says in a low, growly voice.
“Michael, you sexy beast! I’m going to make you howl, baby,” Kurt says, pressing his lips together to keep from laughing. He meets Blaine’s eyes and his laughter fades, replaced with a warm, fuzzy feeling that has nothing to do with vampires or werewolves or anything except this boy.
“I am so in love with you,” Blaine declares suddenly, dropping the little stuffed wolf and cupping Kurt’s face in his hands. He brushes their noses together before pressing a kiss onto Kurt’s lips, sweet and warm and perfect.
“I’m in love with you, too,” Kurt whispers into Blaine’s mouth, dropping tiny kisses all along the curve of Blaine’s bottom lip and then following with a dainty swipe of his tongue. He giggles. “You dazzle me.”
“Hey, that’s my line,” Blaine protests, dropping his hands so he can dig his fingers into Kurt’s ribs. Kurt just laughs and kisses him again as the stuffed animals fall to the floor, forgotten.
…Until the morning, that is.