Okay, so I really need to stop filling Kink Meme prompts. Eh, I think it's curing my writer's block, though. This one's a little kooky, but I hope you enjoy anyways. Drop me a review if you do, please? (I'm like Tinkerbell. I need applause to live!)

Name: Pavarotti (or alternatively, "Squawk-block" or "Cockblock-a-doodle-doo." XD)

Pairing: Klaine

Rating: M for Mature.

Warnings: Fucking, swearing, swearing while fucking, fucking while swearing. There's slash and there's a dash of crack. If you're bothered, click back.

Disclaimer: If I were Ryan Murphy, Kurt would have gotten laid by now. If I were FOX, Firefly would be still be going.

Prompt: So Blaine got Kurt a bird.

A bird, that as it turns out, is a killer cockblock.

Blaine won't let the bird leave Kurt's sight, which proves to be a problem when he and Kurt are doing it for the first time and the bird wolf-whistles every time either one of the boys takes off an article of clothing.

Bonus points if Kurt gets up to cover the cage, Kurt/Blaine gets down to business and the bird starts singing the Trololo song.

Notes: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 OF GLEE, all the way up to A Special Education. Oh yeah, I'm also aware that canaries can't mimic humans. Just...roll with it, okay?

OH, and if you want to sing/listen along, youtube the 'Trololo song' :D

Pavarotti

At first, Kurt really liked the bird. It wasn't exactly the welcome he had been expecting from the Warblers, but as far as initiations went, he was pretty sure he'd gotten off easy. He had been mostly worried that it would be some kind of hazing, but when he'd joined there was, to his surprise, no alcohol or nudity involved at all. And though nudity may have sped up his cause as far as Blaine was concerned, that didn't mean he wanted the rest of the Warblers to bear witness.

Plus, little Pavarotti was cute, even if the name did give the bird a morbid sense of foreboding.

So he'd taken the best of care of the bird in a way he'd never been allowed to care for another living creature before. (He'd always wanted a cat, but dad hated them, and no way in hell was Kurt letting a dog live in their house.) He'd fed it and given it water and sang along to the cute little tunes the bird whistled. He'd panicked when it molted and almost cried for joy when it had started to pick up again, singing away as if it hadn't nearly given Kurt a heart attack.

So it actually came to a bit of a shock to him when he considered killing the damn thing. Right now, he hated it. Hated it with a burning passion that words could not begin to describe. Hated it like Wal-Mart clothing or Rachel's animal sweaters.

Why? Because the freaking thing was watching them.

So, Kurt had finally had the courage to kiss Blaine, or rather, let Blaine know it was alright to kiss him. And Blaine had, and it had been great, and they'd been fooling around pretty much every time they'd been alone since because Kurt was very quickly getting over his fear of physical intimacy and, well, Blaine was smokin'.

And now it was time for the next step. Blaine had set it up perfectly, rose petals on his bedsheets, candles, a romantic meal, the whole freakin' sha-bam. And Kurt had gone along with it happily, enthusiastic as anything. He'd made it absolutely clear to Blaine that he was ready, that he wanted this (and dear God, did he want it) and that tonight was indeed the perfect night.

The only strange element of it all was that when Kurt had suggested they put the bird in Blaine's room, he had refused. Something about not wanting to come back to it dead and have Kurt feeling guilty.

Thus, the peeping Tom. Or peeping Pavarotti, whatever.

Still, Kurt was absolutely determined to have sex, bird-watcher or not. So he slipped his knee in between Blaine's legs for a moment, loving the groan Blaine let out in his mouth. In retaliation, Blaine quickly moved Kurt's legs apart and slipped a hand over his crotch. Kurt could barely help the moan that escaped and the shudder of pleasure. Blaine's mouth, he swore, was magic, because no kiss should feel this good.

'Ohhh.' That was pretty much the extent of Kurt's brain capacity as Blaine's hands slinked under his shirt, fingers daringly brushing the muscles of his stomach. He groaned as Blaine took a nipple in his hand and tweaked gently, as if testing Kurt's reactions. Kurt responded well, thrusting hips into hips with enough fervor to send sharp heat though his whole body.

He pushed Kurt onto his back, spreading him on the bed, straddling his hips and starting to undo the buttons on Kurt's shirt. Kurt barely managed to groan out 'blazer', before Blaine realized that no, it wasn't possible to pull off a shirt under a blazer.

(Both were far too caught up in what they were doing to notice the shrill cry of 'blazer!' in the background.)

'Arms up.' Blaine said hoarsely and Kurt happily complied, allowing Blaine to pull the blazer a little too roughly off him.

'Wheeeeeet-wheer!'

The two boys bolted upright, stared at each other for a second, and then simultaneously turned to the bird.

'Did…' Kurt asked, very, very quietly, 'Pavarotti just wolf-whistle at us?' Blaine nodded slowly, both of their eyes still fixed on the innocent looking bird, which was cleaning itself in its cage.

'I totally didn't know it could do that.' Blaine sounded curious and Kurt rolled his eyes.

'Just ignore it.' He said impatiently. Blaine grinned at him, and was given a blush in return. 'I didn't mean that to come out so desperate.' Kurt admitted awkwardly, but Blaine was already finishing off his shirt and pulling it over his shoulders.

'Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeet-wheer!'

Both of them froze again and Kurt swore under his breath. Blaine chuckled, 'I think it has a thing for you.'

'Pavarotti the pervert. Just brilliant, soiling the name of – ahhh!' The fact that he was in the middle of the sentence meant he couldn't even prevent the moan from escaping his lips as Blaine started licking his nipples. 'Oh, ooh…don't stop…' Whatever he was saying before was…he had no idea what it was, but it was definitely not important, Kurt decided.

'You have such beautiful nipples,' Blaine muttered, and Kurt wasn't sure what the appropriate response to that really was, and even if he knew, the only sound that he seemed able to make was a low, breathy moan.

('Nipples!' Pavarotti cried and Kurt would have laughed if he hadn't forgotten how to do anything but moan.)

Fingers brushed his zipper tentatively, but Kurt had a feeling it wasn't due to nerves. 'He's going to-'

'Wheeeeeet-wheer!'

'Why don't we just strip really, really quickly?' Kurt growled, letting his head fall back against the pillow in frustration.

'If you insist.' Blaine agreed with a wicked grin, and then proceeded to whip Kurt's clothes off in record timing.

'Wheeeeeeeee-'

Then he pulled off his own clothes so fast Kurt briefly wondered how often he did this, but was then distracted by the sight of his fully naked boyfriend.

'-eeeeeeeet-wheeer!' Pavarotti finished.

Kurt was very aware of his nudity, and he could see the look in Blaine's eyes, a predatory gaze that somehow he knew he was mirroring right now. He wanted Blaine, wanted that body and god, that thick hard length inside him. Just the sight of Blaine naked was making his cock throb in the most embarrassing way.

But that was nothing compared to the feeling of Blaine wrapping his hand around him, still very much staring at him and pumping slowly. His gaze rested on Kurt's face, watching him bite his lip, his cheeks flushed and his eyes squeezed shut. He smiled softly and ran his thumb along the tip of Kurt's length, eliciting a low moan.

Blaine loved this, watching Kurt turn into this creature, this mass of primitive urges. Kurt Hummel had never shown this side of himself but him, he knew, never moaned like this for anyone else, never begged with tiny moans and squeezing hands for more! Blaine thought, perhaps, he should reward him for that.

Kurt's eyes were still closed, so when Blaine started sucking him, he jolted in shock and ended up thrusting way more into his mouth than he meant to. But Blaine, with a slight choking sound, simply took him in as deeply as he could and rolled his tongue around Kurt's dick like he was a freaking lollipop. He wasn't even sure if he was doing this right, but it was good enough that Kurt whined in ecstasy, one hand gripping the bed covers and the other pulling desperately at Blaine's hair.

'Fucking…love…your dick.' Blaine groaned, pulling away and licking at the tip and making Kurt writhe beneath him.

'Blaine…just…I'm going…just put it in already!' He demanded, digging nails into Blaine's arm and yanking his hair hard. Blaine just smiled and gently threw the bottle of lube at him. Kurt stared at him in wonder.

'Prepare yourself.' Blaine grinned, a lusty grin, and went back to sucking him. Kurt was at a loss of what to do, so he shot Blaine a death-stare and reluctantly squeezed some lube onto his fingers and felt around blindly for his hole, trying to avoid smearing it in Blaine's (totally in the way) face. He managed to slip in a digit, then two, but it stung like hell at this position so he swiftly lifted his hips to accommodate.

'Aaahhnnn!' Three things happened at once: bucking his hips forced him right into his boyfriend's mouth, just as he managed to brush against his prostate, and the combination of the two caused him to cum with a surprised shriek of pleasure, shooting down Blaine's throat. Blaine choked a little then, ever the gentlemen, licked his lips and wiped his mouth with a smirk.

'Mmmn…my new favorite food.' Kurt tried to kick him for the horrific line, and didn't even know why that embarrassingly dorky statement sounded so hot, but he can't help but groan in response as Blaine's hands snaked around his spent dick, already started to harden again. His fingers were still inside him, and he added another one at Blaine's command, stretching himself out as much as he could. He shuddered as his long fingers brushed against that knot of nerves and flushed when he realized how aroused he was once more.

'Please…please, Blaine…' He didn't want to beg. He was Kurt Hummel, proud and stubborn, he really didn't want to beg. But, if he didn't have Blaine inside him very soon, he didn't even want to think about what kinds of derogatory things he would say under the haze of lust.

Thankfully, Blaine was obliging. He tore open a condom wrapper in a way that Kurt was sure only he could make look attractive, and quickly slipped it on, eyes barely leaving Kurt (which Kurt thought was fairly impressive, if not disturbing.) The he reached for the lube again.

'Wait.' It was about as commanding as he could possibly be while fingering himself, but it came out throatier than intended. 'The cage. Let me cover the cage.' Blaine smirked at him and he puffed out his cheeks. 'Fine.'

Kurt, pulling out his fingers (and totally not moaning when he did it) walked over to the cage with as much dignity as he could muster. Which wasn't much, since his legs were jelly and he had to try very hard to resist asking Blaine to hold him up as he stumbled over. 'I really need to buy him a cage cover.' He threw Blaine's Dalton blazer over the cage, ignoring the dejected tweet the bird gave as it was plunged into darkness.

'Kurt, do you really think-' Kurt cut Blaine off with a bitch, don't you even look, and pulled the older boy into a deep kiss, biting and sucking Blaine's lips because he knew Blaine loved it. Then, with another healthy serving of lube, Blaine was pushing into him gently and slowly and he was crying out, legs wrapped around Blaine's shoulders, being filled for the first time.

And it hurt. He had known it would, but ugh, did it hurt. If it weren't for the absolute arousal he was caught up in, this would be hell, but even as Blaine was pushing in, he could feel himself getting used to it. It felt…not good, as such, but satisfying. It felt like being completed in a way that was both natural and totally unnatural at the same time.

And then very gradually, it started feeling like heaven. Kurt could only imagine it was like going from Hell to Heaven, but being chased by a devil with a pitchfork. (Not that he believed in any of those things, but the Evil Dwarf simile probably wouldn't work there.) Before he could actually gain control, he realized he was moaning like some sort of slut and thrusting his hips up to meet Blaine's. How embarrassing. It seemed that lust and pride weren't able to coexist in his brain.

He let out a stream of groans and moans and tried to ignore how revoltingly porny he sounded. 'Oh, fuck, Blaine…ohh…oh, you're so-'

'Aaaaaahhhh!'

That definitely wasn't a sexual moan, Blaine realized.

'Ya-ya-yaaah.'

And that definitely wasn't Kurt. Unless Kurt's singing style had changed dramatically. And unless Kurt had started singing during sex, (well, they say you sometimes have to get used to weird kinks in a relationship.)

He was going to kill that bird.

'Nah-nah-nah-nun, nun-ah-nah...'

'Is that the Trololo song?' Kurt had lost pretty much all ambition to actually orgasm this evening, and for some reason the fact that Blaine's hard dick was inside him suddenly seemed more hilarious than sexy.

(Blaine was, however, not thinking the same thing, judging on how hard he still was. Kurt applauded him on his ability to concentrate on both things at once, and wondered how this multitasking could be put to much better use in future.)

'I think it is.'

'Trolololo, la, la-la-la, la-la-la-'

'Oh my God,' Blaine whispered, 'it actually is. It's the trololo song.'

And then he started moving.

Kurt responded immediately with a squeak of indignation. 'You are not thinking…we are not. No way.' But Blaine was thrusting and it wasn't too long at all before Kurt gave in and started bucking his hips in return. 'You're – ahhh! – insane, you know that?' he moaned as Blaine started to speed up.

(It suddenly occurred to Kurt, as if the situation wasn't ridiculous enough already, that there were rose petals stuck all over his hair. He was pretty sure he couldn't rock the hippy look either.)

'Oh hahahaho! Hahaheheho! Hohohoheho! Hahahaheho!'

Why the sounds of a bird singing the trololo song in the background wasn't a massive turn-off, Kurt wasn't sure. He was pretty sure that he didn't care, though, since Blaine had found the perfect angle to the super-duper-magical-spot that he'd read about but never really believed that it would feel this good. The fact that they'd stopped for a few minutes had even let him get used to the foreign intrusion, somehow preparing him much more than impatience would have otherwise allowed.

'Lolololololololo, lololololololol, lololololololol, lololo LOL!' the bird sang as Kurt screamed, literally screamed, at a particularly strong thrust.

Blaine's eyes were so fixed on him that Kurt got the feeling he didn't even hear the bird; he was so engrossed on watching Kurt fall apart. And fall apart he did. He didn't even understand the sheer power of the heat coursing through him, writhing and bucking and moaning words that made about as much sense as what the bird was singing.

'Ahhhh!'

'Ahhhhh! La-la-laaah! La la-laaah, laaah, la-la.'

'Shit…oh god, Blaine…please…' Blaine's eyes were fixed on his face and it was making him feel so hot he could barely stand it. He was already on the verge of coming and he could feel Blaine shaking too. 'F-faster…' he choked out and Blaine's eyebrows furrowed in worry. 'Go faster!' Kurt all but growled at him, and with a sort of dark smile he thrust harder and quicker, careful to slam against Kurt's prostate whenever he could. Kurt knew by the sting that he was asking too much, being too rough for his first time and that it was probably going to hurt like a bitch in the morning but he quite frankly liked the sting and oooooh it felt so good, he wanted more and more and never wanted to stop…

'Lolololo-lololo-lololo, oh-ho-ho-ho hooooooooooooooooooooo!'

Kurt screamed out at the final note; a perfect orgasm-induced harmony. White dots were flashing before his eyes and Blaine thrust hard, coming into the condom in a moaning judder.

Kurt collapsed backwards onto the bed and the older boy reluctantly slid out of Kurt and quickly disposed of the condom before slumping on top of him. For a few minutes, neither of them could speak or move, caught in post-orgasmic recovery.

'Well, that was…' Kurt finally groaned quietly.

'Hot.' Blaine breathed, running his hand through Kurt's hair.

'I was going to go with weird, but, sure, we can use your word.'

They fell into an awkward silence for a minute or two, while Blaine just stared at Kurt very intensely and Kurt sort of wriggled under his gaze, not quite sure what you were actually supposed to do after sex. Blaine seemed to be trying to speak, but kept stopping himself. Then he just gave Kurt a look, and he knew exactly what he was attempting to say.

'You know I love you, right?' It came out as a whisper, tender and intimate. 'And – and I'm not just saying that because we just had sex, I really mean it.' He babbled, face rapidly turning red, but Kurt was beaming.

'Really? You really love me?' Blaine nodded, 'Because I totally…I love you too.' He was desperate not to sound overenthusiastic, but failing. 'But…just one thing…'

Blaine sat up suddenly. 'But?' He asked, panic evident in his voice.

'If you say the bird has to be here every time we have sex, I will break up with you.'

Blaine laughed, and Kurt couldn't help but join in, until both of them were gasping for breath in hysterics.

'No more Pavarotti?' Kurt asked between giggles. Blaine, managing to stop laughing just long enough to kiss him softly and tenderly, cupping his face with one hand.

'No more Pavarotti.'

'Hey, Blaine!' Wes and David looked far too smug for Monday lunchtime, Blaine decided.

'Hey, guys. What's on the menu?' He asked, pulling up a chair.

'Well, not your favorite food, that's for sure!' Wes quipped, and David burst into laughter beside him, as if he'd been holding it in since Blaine walked in.

'Um…okay.' Blaine had no idea what they were talking about, so just furrowed his eyebrows and shrugged. He had probably just missed an in-joke or something.

'Fun night?' David asked when he managed to stop laughing. Blaine looked at him curiously.

'Yeah, actually…' he furrowed his eyebrows, 'Wait, how did you know…?'

'Well…' Wes cleared his throat, trying not to laugh again, 'When you plan to do the dirty with Kurtie again, you might want to think about closing the door.'

Oh, thought Blaine. Oh. A metaphorical lightbulb flickered on above his head.

'It was you guys?' Blaine almost yelled, dropping the composed demeanor very suddenly. 'You were making those noises?' The two Warblers burst into laughter simultaneously, to the point where they were wiping away tears.

'We're sorry, man! It was just too funny, you guys blaming the bird…'

'Oh yeah, really funny! You guys are such cockblocks, you know that?' David and Wes were both in full hysterics by now, and Blaine was caught between fury and approval of the vaguely clever prank. 'But really, the trololol song? Why would you choose that song?'

The laughter subsided, and David and Wes both looked at him like he'd gone insane.

'The trololol song?' Wes asked slowly.

'You mean that weird Russian youtube thing? We weren't singing that.' David raised an eyebrow at him and Blaine raised one in return.

Pavarotti, huh?

Trololo indeed.