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27 December 2010 @ 03:14 am
Fic: Cavort Like You Mean It  
Title: Cavort Like You Mean It, or: WILD BAMF
Rating: NC-17 to be safe!
Pairing: Wyatt/Blake (fistpump guy/crazy dance guy), slight Kurt/Blaine
Spoilers: 2x06? IDK.
Word Count: ~1200
Disclaimer: Disclaimed!
Summary: Wyatt and Blake prove they're capable of more than just moving around to songs. Kind of.



It's no secret at Dalton Academy that Wyatt and Blake love the Warblers more than anything. They show up at every performance and dance like it's all that matters. Wyatt, with his carefully-mastered fistpump technique, and Blake, with his loose and wild flailing, had both quickly earned the title of top Warbler fans.

That same adoration is why everyone had simply been shocked when Wyatt and Blake had both discovered something to pour their energy and attention into: each other. And yeah, maybe their relationship's novelty had been undermined a week after its inception by the pomp and circumstance surrounding an inter-Warbler relationship (one which both Wyatt and Blake cheered on, as the two in question were ranked among their favorite Warblers and one is Wyatt's roommate), but it had still been there. An ever-present. Wyatt would fistpump with one hand and hold Blake's with the other. Blake would flail and jump but would never stray too far from Wyatt's side.

The first time people take it seriously is the day Kurt comes running into the common room with a panicked expression on his face.

Wyatt is going about his usual business, fistpumping while perched on the edge of his bed with Warbler recordings playing on his laptop. He's smiling, proud of himself for keeping the beat so well. His roommate is steadfastly ignoring him, accustomed to it by now.

Blake walks in just as Wyatt starts to let go, starts to let the harmony of those voices drive his body. His eyes flutter shut, so he misses Blake's amazed and fond look and the not-so-amazed-or-fond look Kurt is giving them both.

His mouth falls open as the recording stops and he opens his eyes to look at the culprit. Blake looks different somehow, like he's hungry or studying or watching the Warblers onstage. It makes Wyatt feel weird, like his stomach is dropping and he's been set on fire.

They kiss. Not like they usually do (a peck on the cheek or, if they're really in the moment, on the lips), but deep. With tongues. Which is weird, but it makes Wyatt feel like he has to fistpump, so he does. Blake seems to notice this, because Wyatt is pulled to his feet and they do this awkward shuffle-dance to the wall, where Blake starts to move his body like he's dancing and Wyatt is inclined to fistpump twice as hard.

Neither of them notice Kurt's rapid footfall as he bolts from the room.

Blake feels amazing. Like he's dancing without the fear of smacking someone in the face. Only better, if that's possible. He's never touched someone like this, never imagined it could feel this way. He'd thought about it, sure. His too-long crush on Blaine (and the birth of the theoretical couple-name Blanke) had ensured that. It's a million and six times better than he'd ever imagined it could be. As he and Wyatt part for breath, he slowly rolls his hips into the taller boy's. Wyatt makes a noise like Blake has never heard before and it's really exciting and wow, if he could do this forever, he'd so give up dancing.

And he really loves dancing.

But maybe he loves Wyatt more. Especially with the way his hips are clumsily grinding into Blake's own, making him gasp and clutch Wyatt's shirt tighter.

Wyatt has no idea what's happening to him, but he really likes it. He's so focused on it that he can barely fistpump. It dissolves from a weak motion to a desperate grasp on Blake's waist as they move their hips together in something way too sporadic to be a proper rhythm. It feels so, so good, though. One of his hands drops to Blake's (rather well-defined, thanks to his dancing) rear and before he knows it, they're doing that shuffle-dance thing again and he's pushing Blake back onto the bed even though he has no real idea what he's doing.

He's seen sex in a few movies (even if his eyes had been covered by concerned friends). He kind of knows how sex works. He's operating on urges, here, and it's paying off majorly because it feels so much better than his nervous, guilty touches in the shower and those dreams that leave his sheets sticky.

Somehow, one of them hits the play button on his laptop and a Warbler recording starts up. It's Wyatt's absolute favorite.

You think I'm pretty without any makeup on...

Wyatt knows how to keep a beat, that's for certain. He moves in time with the music, still in a haze and barely aware of his actions. His pants are halfway down and his shirt and untucked and he's so confused and so happy and he'd so fistpump if he wasn't working Blake's fly open.

He doesn't really have a chance to process it all before they're both half-naked and panting and touching each other all over. It's like they're exploring, only it's a lot more exciting than whatever Christopher Columbus and those guys did. His breath catches as Blake touches him there and he acts on impulse, wrapping a careful hand around both of them (even though he still can't get his mind around this) and doing what he does best.

Blake has melted to a point of bonelessness. All he can do at this point is whimper and rock into Wyatt's hand. It's a weird problem to have, because usually his issue is moving too much. Especially when he hears the Warblers. They're barely background noise now and he'd be shocked that he 's thinking that if he wasn't preoccupied with feeling absolutely fantastic.

He knows he isn't going to last long, and that's okay because he's happier than he's ever been and that's saying something because he's generally a really happy guy. More noises he didn't know he was capable of fall from his lips and he manages to get one (admittedly flexible) leg around Wyatt's hips and from there uses it as leverage to arch up into his touches.

His ears are ringing and the recording is barely there but it's a perfect moment and he just lets go because, well, dancing is out of the question. Wyatt seems to follow, gasping Blake's full name, which he's always been weirdly fond of, and coming into his own hand.

No regrets, just love...

They allow themselves a moment to breathe before trading familiar smiles and cuddling up to each other. They both know this part, at least.

Half a dozen shellshocked Warblers stand frozen in the hallway outside Wyatt and Kurt's dorm room, each slack-jawed and wide-eyed as a too-loud, too-fast cry of “Blake Aldous Maddox-Frienze” rings out.

It's silent after that, except for the faint sound of an indistinguishable song being played from inside the room.

Then, as their collective breathing evens out, David slowly turns to look at Kurt and Blaine.

“You've been one-upped as loudest couple. Congratulations.”

They're gone in a flurry of harsh whispers and thinly-veiled jealousy. That simply won't stand.

(Deleted comment)
cat on a hot tin roof: glee cast - :Dsponging on December 28th, 2010 11:10 pm (UTC)