Because I promised rockstar!Klaine…
It had always been for fun, it was just a joke. Blaine and Kurt weren’t stupid, they were active online, they knew what the fans said, what they wrote. They loved it when Kurt and Blaine were Kurt and Blaine. They even had a little portmanteau for them, ‘Klaine’, it was.
And Kurt and Blaine were self-proclaimed wild motherfuckers so they always egged it on: Grabbing each other’s asses when in front of the paparazzi, proclaiming their love for each other during interviews, even kissing on stage. The fans loved it. And hey, if it got the band some attention to, it was a win-win, right?
But then, one night, it wasn’t so much a joke anymore.
“Fuck, Kurt.” Blaine laughed as they all but tumbled into their dressing room, the other two members of the band going to their dressing room across the hall. They tugged on their clothes, their skinny jeans and t-shirts all rumpled from the concert. Their eyeliner was smeared and their piercings a little loose…but they felt good, high from the performance. Once inside the dressing room, Blaine went up to the mirror, lightly prodding his throbbing lip ring. “You were fucking wild tonight!”
“Aren’t I always?” Kurt smirked, wiggling his ass jokingly suggestive as he started to undo his jeans.
“Well yeah but tonight you nearly tore my piercing out!” Blaine poked at the lip ring, “Look – it’s bleeding! Fuck, Kurt, what were you trying to do, eat it?”
“I’d rather eat you.” Kurt said, and as Blaine turned to roll his eyes at Kurt, he saw the look in his eye. The flash of light there that read something more than the usual fucking around. Blaine’s eyes traveled from Kurt’s eyes down to where his hands rested at his groin, still holding his zipper.
His eyes traveled back up hungrily, flashing as they took in the hungry look in Kurt’s eyes. “That shouldn’t sound as erotic as it did.” He ground out.
Neither said anything for a long moment, just staring at each other, breathing heavily. Blaine wasn’t sure what it was about that night. Maybe it was the feeling in the air, the booze in their system, the high from the concert – anything – but something about that night…it set off a switch.
Before Blaine could even blink, he found himself being slammed up against the wall of the dressing room. He let out a soft cry, but it was silenced by Kurt’s lips over his. He didn’t really care that his lip ring was throbbing or – even more importantly – that they shouldn’t be doing this.
The kiss was odd, so familiar yet so new. They did this all the time, messed around, fooled around…but this wasn’t always this. This…this was real. This wasn’t a show. This wasn’t to be edgy, this wasn’t for fans. This was…this was for them.
This was only for them.
Kurt let out a groan, grabbing greedily at Blaine’s face, smearing his thick eyeliner over his sweat-soaked skin as he tried to pull Blaine’s face closer to his own.
“Kurt, Kurt,” Blaine mumbled against Kurt as the other musician nibbled on his lower lip, dancing his tongue around Blaine’s lip ring. “Kurt, should we—should we-”
“We should.” Kurt said with a certain finality as he began to rip off Blaine’s band shirt. Blaine laced his fingers through Kurt’s hair and tugged hard, pulling Kurt’s head back so he could run his tongue up Kurt’s neck, drawing his lips across Kurt’s jaw before they found their way back to Kurt’s mouth.
“Your lips are so – fuck-” Kurt couldn’t even get his words out as a shiver ran though his spine. Their lips were so hungry for each other, their bodies grinding together, Kurt’s hips rubbing against Blaine’s, pushing him farther into the wall, Blaine’s bucking against Kurt’s, trying to get as close to Kurt as possible.
“I—I need you-” Blaine ground against Kurt’s lips, “For real-”
“Yes.” Was all Kurt said, and he reached down into Blaine’s tight jeans, hands ready to-
“Hey, cocksuckers we need to – holy fuck.”
Their fun was cut short as the door flew open. Their heads jerked to see their band mates Santana and Rachel standing there with wide eyes. Their own piercings and makeup were still in place, but they had changed from their concert clothes to sweats and tank tops. But it was the looks of shock on their faces that really did the boys in.
“Well for fucks sake, San, close the fucking door!” Kurt cried, hand still in Blaine’s pants, Blaine’s lips still pressed to Kurt’s jaw, despite their eyes being locked on their intruders.
“God I knew you guys did this but since when do you do this-?”
“Rachel, shut up and close the door!” Kurt screamed, removing his hand in order to grab the closest item (a comb) and chucking it at the door. The girls let out cries, ducking away from the projectile.
“We just wanted to tell you the bus was leaving!” Santana cried form the other side of the door, “So if you could be quick with the dick-sucking I’d like to get to the hotel!” And with that, the girls were gone.
Kurt and Blaine stood there for a long moment, still staring at the door before looking back to each other. Suddenly a smirk formed on Blaine’s lip. “Well,” He began, “If they insist…” And Blaine slowly lowered himself to his knees, tugging on Kurt’s pants as he went.
Kurt didn’t need any more convincing than that.