Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/890909.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      No_Archive_Warnings_Apply, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Glee
  Relationship:
      Blaine_Anderson/Kurt_Hummel
  Additional Tags:
      Dominant/Submissive, Teacher/Student, Depression, Self-Harm, Recreational
      and_Medicinal_Use_Of_Prescribed_Drugs, Suicidal_Thoughts, Paddling,
      slight_breathplay
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-07-20 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 26814
****** The Edification Of Us ******
by MakerOfAnarchy
Summary
     [edification: improvement, education]
     They don't meet the normal way. They meet because Blaine is
     desperate, high, lonely. He goes looking for someone to help, and he
     finds Sir, someone willing to do that and more for him, but only from
     a distance. Until suddenly that distance is a lot less than they'd
     suspected, and they have to learn to be together without breaking the
     rules.
Notes
     Written for the Kurt-Blaine Reversebang on Tumblr and LJ.
     Music for this chapter: The Broken Ones by Dia Frampton, The End by
     Kings Of Leon, Heartlines - Acoustic by Florence & The Machine, Just
     One Yesterday by Fall Out Boy feat. Foxes, Bless You (For The Good
     That's In You) by Delta Rae
***** Chapter 1 *****
He meets Sirthe second week of May, the fifth week he’s been bed ridden. At
this point he’s been out of school for two months, the first week of those two
leaving permanent scars on him, ones he can’t shake. There’s a cast on his leg
and a gaping cut along his back, with bandages around his ribcage and cuts
everywhere, a couple he put there himself.
Blaine lays on his bed, one hand perusing the depths of the internet and the
other pushed down his boxers, palming his dick as he tries to find something
that interests him, something to help take the edge off.
The cuts on his arms are throbbing and his back aches, somewhere in the back of
his mind he knows it aches, but he wouldn’t know, he can’t feel anything.
His head is fuzzy and he can really hardly focus on the screen in front of him
but that’s okay, this is just something quick.
He finally clicks on a video and when it starts to play Blaine is immediately
entranced, because it’s something he’s never seen before. There’s a boy, a
young boy, on his knees, hands tied to posts in front of him. His mouth is
bound and there’s rope around his thighs, red indents forming from having been
there a long time.
There’s a shadow and then a man, a much olderman walks out, holding something.
And it’s with a cruel grin and some filthy, filthywords that send a spark of
pleasure to Blaine’s groin, that he swings his arm, hitting that boy’s ass. The
boy jerks almost imperceptibly, moaning around the gag in his mouth, and the
man hits him again.
And again and again, all while letting disgusting, degrading, (wonderful,Blaine
thinks, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the head of his dick) words fall from
his mouth as he grins like he’s enjoying it, enjoying taking pleasure from
somebody else.
The paddling doesn’t go on for long before the camera switches and the man now
has his cock buried in the boy’s ass, pounding into him with a hand gripping
the younger one’s hair. All the while he calls the boy dirty things like my
slut,mywhore in a possessive tone that makes Blaine’s toes curl. The boy nods
along to everything, clenching his eyes shut and agreeing, nodding when the man
bends over and whispers into his ear, “Yeah? You’re mine, huh? That all you
want? To be mine? To be mybitch?”
And the boy, the boy just takesit, breathing out through his nose and moaning
like this is all he wants to do for the rest of his life. His expression is one
of utter bliss, sweat pouring from his hairline and face red from exertion,
saliva dribbling out of his mouth.
By now Blaine is on his knees and panting, fist stuck in his mouth to keep
quiet as he jacks himself, squeezing periodically and smearing pre-cum around
when he has the chance.
Logically he knows that the reason he hasn’t come yet is because he’s so hopped
up on pain meds his pleasure is hardly registering to his body, but he can’t
bring himself to care because it still feels so good.
His pleasure ratchets up when he sees tears leaking from the corners of the
boys eyes as the man buries himself to the hilt in the boys ass and coming,
hips rocking gently.
However, it’s to the sight of the man pulling out and smacking the boys ass one
more time before walking away and just leavingthe boy there, come leaking out
of his ass and wrists still tied to the post that Blaine finally, finallycomes,
gasping for air.
He gently lowers himself to his bed, body sensitive and tingling. Come has
painted his pillow case and he sluggishly rips it off, balling it up and
throwing it somewhere before collapsing onto his pillows, closing his laptop.
It’s four am and Blaine finally falls asleep, sated for now.
-
The next night Blaine has a clear head and trembling hands as he scrolls
through a porn site. He’s looking for that video, the one with the owned boy
and the ruthless man.
He finally clicks “Jailbait boy gets owned by hung Dominant”and is taken to the
same video from last night. He doesn’t get let himself get too caught up in it,
because his cock is already hardening just thinking about it, but instead he
scrolls down to the tags.
Blaine has been on enough porn sites to know everything is absurdly tagged, but
that it will eventually lead him to what he wants. He clicks on the first tag,
“BDSM”, and lets it take him to the millions of other porn videos tagged with
it. He skips anything with a vagina, or the ones with multiple people, just
clicks on the first one that actually interests him.
It’s an hour of perusing the videos and stroking his cock before he comes,
spilling over his hand with a gasp and closing his eyes against the shame.
-
Blaine, at this point, understands it’s becoming some type of weird obsession,
but he doesn’t let himself think about it.
Instead he spends another night on the internet, looking up “BDSM” and what it
is, what it means. He finds a lot of blogs and resources, things he doesn’t
understand but god, does he want to.
It sounds like something he wants to be a part of, something he wants to learn.
Something he wants to be taught.
So he signs up. He signs up on websites that he really shouldn’t be, websites
that don’t ask for much besides a credit card, which he has.  (His parents
won’t care, they don’t even look at the bill anymore.)
He reads a lot of the posts on a forum, always looking and lurking but never
making himself known.
Until two days later, when everything feels tight, and all the bruises and
scars are aching and on fire. His mother had just left his room after changing
his cast and muttering to herself (“Why did this have to happen before the
summer, this is not the fucking time.”) harsh things that he can’t block out
and can’t avoid. She finally stands up and gives him a tight smile, kissing his
forehead and backing out of the room before closing the door with a solemn
expression.
It’s really unfair, how she can make him feel like shit without even knowing,
even when she’s not trying to.
So he reaches over to his nightstand and pulls out his pills again, the ones
his doctor gave him to use at his own caution, the ones that will make it feel
a bit better. And when it kicks in, he reaches under his bed for his scissors
and makes a few more cuts, a few more tears in his skin that feel different
from the ones he hadn’tput there.
Blaine reaches for his laptop and, with a fuzzy brain and clouded vision, he
puts it out there, lets everyone know that he’s in pain, and he’s alone.
“posted by bda95 at 1:25 am, ct
                             Is there anybody who would like to help
I have a lot on my shoulders and I feel like I’m going to collapse under the
weight of my own self-loathing at anytime. ”
And he hits post, closing his eyes and hoping someone will answer his plea.
He’ll regret it in the morning when he has coherent and logical thinking back
again, but for now he just moves to another tab, looking for something to get
him off.
-
The notification of an email startles him out of his pleasured reverie, hand
gliding over his cock smooth and quick. He groans but looks at it anyways,
squinting at his screen to read the words. It’s telling him that he has a chat
request from kh-s84, with a little message already there.
“Hello, bda95. I saw your post and I would like to help you. Are you still
around?”
Blaine groans, hand stilling on his cock. He can almost taste it, he’s about to
have what he wants.  He shakily types out his message, biting his tongue.
“yes I am.”
He waits a moment before sending another message, more hesitant now. “how…how
can you help me?”
It takes a moment but soon kh-s84responds with, “Are you touching yourself?”
From bda95:
I was.
From kh-s84 :
Stroke yourself.
From bda95:
Okay…
The reply is instantaneous, just:
Sir. You will call me Sir.
The name makes him moan into his fist, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he
comes, moaning into his hand.
Blaine suddenly feels disgusting.It’s more than the drying sweat and come; it’s
a shameful feeling in the pit of his stomach, pushing itself up his esophagus,
threatening to make him puke.
Blaine chickens out and leaves the chat, shutting down his laptop and going to
sleep.
-
Blaine spends all day fretting over what he did.
He had let a stranger dominatehim online, while high.The guy could have been a
pervert, he could have been trying to take advantage of his vulnerability.
However, what worries him the most is how he’d reacted to Blaine just suddenly
logging off. He knows that kh-s84had no real claim over him,but Blaine still
feels bad for just leaving abruptly.
The guilt is what leads him to opening up his laptop with the intent to go back
to the chat and apologize, to grovel if he has to.
Instead he finds an email already waiting from him from kh-s84@gmail.com. He’s
afraid to click it but Blaine knows, he knows that when he put it out there
that he was calling for anybody, and he found someone. He can’t just back out
now, no matter how temporary and tentative.
And he has to admit, knowing that someone had answered his plea had made his
heart clench and his back throb, because god, someone probably millions of
miles away maybe cares about him.
“Dear bda95,
Last night, I chatted with you very, very briefly. I   answered your post about
needing a dom, and I asked to help you.
However, you left the chat before I could actually help you, or at least know
if I already had.
Do you know how that makes me feel? Not only as a dom, but as a person. As a
dom, my job is to help my sub (in this case, you) get through whatever they’re
feeling in the best way I know how. I have years of domming experience in my
back pocket, and never once have I had a sub safeword with me. You, signing out
randomly was equivalent to safewording in my book, and I now feel as if I have
done something wrong, and I don’t know what it is nor how to fix it. As a
person, with my worrywart nature, you leaving has me worrying and wondering:
Are you okay? Do I need to call the police? Is there anything I can do to help?
Was it something I did? Was having you call me “Sir” too much? If so, you
needto tell me. The most important aspect of a D/s relationship – any
relationship, really – is communication. We had a very short, two minute claim,
but I’d very much like to think that the same rules applied.
Goodbye, bda95. I really hope to hear from you soon. “
Blaine slouches back, mind reeling. He feels a lot right now, but mainly he has
curiosity sitting at the base of his mind. There’s so much he does not know,
there’s so much to learn.
Blaine wonders if he’ll ever learn, but he knows that this is not the way. He
has to wait, has to wait a few years until he’s out on his own and maybe happy.
He responds, not wanting this man that came to him when things were low to feel
like he did something wrong when really Blaine is just scared.
“kh-s84,
I am sincerely sorry for any worry I may have caused you last night. It was not
my intention and I know now not to do it again.
The truth is, I asked for a Dom because I was feeling at my lowest, even though
I always feel like I’m at my lowest. I’ve recently discovered the vivid world
of BDSM and I thought that maybe a Dom is what I needed to help bring me back
up. I did it in a moment of drugged, painful weakness, and yes, I understand
how irresponsible it was of me.
Please do not think it was your fault. I came, when you told me to call you
“Sir”, and I thought you wouldn’t like that. I’ve never done this before, and I
was afraid and cowardly in the face of punishment. (I realize now, with a clear
mind, that this is all ridiculous of me to think, but I was simply scared.)
I’m sorry, once again. I’m just an impulsive idiot with too many problems, and
I am regretful for bringing you into all of this.
Sincerely, bda95.”
It’s then that his mother comes in to check his cast, so he closes his laptop
and watches her peer over it with detached interest.
“Is there anything I can get you, sweetie?”
Blaine swallows, clearing his throat. “No…no thanks mom.”
She sits at the edge of the bed, hand resting protectively over his ankle. It’s
the first time she’s shown such a motherly gesture in a very long time and he
trembles with it, wanting a hug and knowing he won’t get one.
His back throbs.
“Blaine…I was thinking…do you think you need a therapist?”
Blaine rolls his eyes away, not wanting to have this conversation. “I’m fine.”
“Blaine,” He looks up at her sharp tone, “Don’t lie to me. I know your father
and I haven’t always shown it but we’re on your side.We didn’t need this
anymore than you did.”
Blaine laughs bitterly, shifting his ankle away from her hand. Of fucking
course, she’s upset because in her mind this is something that has happened
totheir family, something that will mar their reputation.
He’s just one big scar, isn’t he?
“Could you please leave, mom?” He clenches his jaw and refuses to look at her
when she gets up and closes his door with a gentle click.
He takes a couple of deep breaths, gripping his forearm and throwing his head
back. When he feels calm again he reaches over to his laptop, looking for an
email from kh-s84but not expecting one.
He gets one.
“bda95,
First, I should say that I’m so relieved you’re okay. Something happening to
you on my watch is not in my books.
Also, next time please just tell me if something is wrong or if there’s
something I can change.
I’m not upset, and I wasn’t ever.
Not to be forward, but please feel free to email me at anytime. No contract, no
pressure. I’d just like to know you, bda95 , if you’d like that .
kh-s84”
Blaine blinks in surprise, rubbing his neck. He’d expected kh-s84to kick him to
the curb after he’d found that he was okay.
Blaine bites his lip and tries to not get his hopes up, his fingers flying over
the keys as he eagerly tells him yes, yes, of course I would.
Blaine wouldn’t call it a summer romance, because it’s really so much more than
that, but it’s definitely something.
---
Sirturns out to be Kurt. Kurt is twenty-eight, a Broadway performer with a
teaching degree (“It’s a long story but I had been told I needed something to
‘fall back on’,” Kurt had told him with an eye roll and a tiny smile) and is
the kindest, most compassionate and understanding person that Blaine has
evermet.
They talk to each other all summer and every day, every time Kurt says
something sweet, or something funny or something so astoundingly deep Blaine
falls a little more in love. They talk about anything and everything. Blaine
tells Kurt more than he’s ever told anyone, lets himself be true to himself,
for Kurt.
Blaine tells him about what happened at his old school, how he was hurt so
badly and tells him about all the scars that were left because of it. He tells
Kurt about his family, and about how his injuries seem to be tearing them
apart.
And Kurt asks exactly what was happening that night when Blaine had posted so
desperately on the forum, high. Kurt asks him why he felt he needed to be
buzzed that night and Blaine says that it’s because everything gets to be too
much sometimes.
Kurt just tells him to be careful, and that he can always come to him.
Blaine only smiles, wiping at his eyes though Kurt will never know Blaine had
been sobbing at his computer because Kurt makes him feel too much, all the
time.
---
The first time they Skype is after a Friday night, Blaine coming back from an
excruciatingly painful dinner with his parents.
Blaine is nervous, but not nervous enough to not do it. He’s been waiting for
this moment, this moment when he’ll actually see Kurt, even if he won’t be able
to actually touch him. But he’ll finally be able to put a face to a previously
faceless image, and that thought alone is enough to make Blaine accept the
video chat request.
And Kurt is literally everything he could have hoped for.  For a moment they
just stare at each other, and Blaine wants to – Blaine wants to touch so, so
badly. Everything about him is gorgeous, from his swept hair to his sweet, pink
lips that are smiling, smiling right at Blaine.
“You’re – wow. Kurt.”
“Blaine,” Kurt breathes out and it’s that one breathless word that has Blaine
crying, tears falling from his eyes as he presses his hand to his mouth to
quell the sobs.
“Sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just,” Blaine hiccups, “today has been so stressful,
but it’s you, it’s you and I’m just happy, for once.”
“Oh Blaine. You always deserve to be happy.”
They sit in silence, taking everything in until Kurt looks him in the eye and
runs his hand through his hair, a smile on his face like he’s happy to be where
he is. Blaine aches.
But this time, it’s a good ache. It’s the ache that Kurt brings to him with
that smile that makes him want to crawl through the screen and just fall asleep
right next to him, happy.
Happy.
He’s happy. Right now, looking at Kurt who is milesand miles away is making him
so happy he could scream. He wants this feeling to last.
“God, this is perfect,” Kurt laughs out, looking back at Blaine with shiny
eyes. “This is utterly perfect. You’re perfect, Blaine.”
Blaine blushes and looks down, smiling at his hands in his lap. “Not as perfect
as you, Sir.” The title rolls off his lips like it belongs there. He shivers.
He hears Kurt inhale and then he looks up and notices the way Kurt is clutching
his thigh.
“While…” Kurt clears his throat, sits up and jostles the laptop a little,
“while we’re here, and before we go any further, we should establish some
boundaries for…” Kurt waves a hand, smiles at Blaine, “this.”
“Okay, Sir,” Blaine says, and sits himself up higher. He wants to be good and
listen to Kurt.
“Does this feel alright to you?” Kurt’s eyes are concerned as he gestures
between them again. “Right now, talking about this, you call me Sir – how does
it make you feel? How…how far are you willing to go, like this?”
Blaine furrows his eyebrows, tilts his head, “What do you mean, Sir? Would this
not just be…Skype sex?”
Kurt chuckles gently, looking down at his comforter. “Blaine, I don’t think of
scenes with my subs as just sex. Ever. It’s about a lot more than that, and it
doesn’t have to have anything to do with that. This is not any different.”
Kurt leans a bit closer, and Blaine gets caught up in his eyes, brightened by
the light and his spirit. “You…you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.
You don’t have to get naked, you don’t have to see me naked, whatever. I can
try my hand at talking you into subspace even,” Kurt leans back with a smirk,
“I’ve heard my dirty talk is quite amazing.”
Blaine laughs, blushing up to his roots. When Kurt says it, it all sounds a bit
daunting. What if he’s not good enough for Kurt? What if Kurt doesn’t enjoy his
body? What if his scars push Kurt away?
“And I promise I will love anything you give to me, Blaine,” He looks up,
catches his eye and flashes Kurt a nervous smile to match his reassuring one.
His stomach flutters.
“I think…I think I want it all, Sir,” Blaine says, and looks up at Kurt, trying
to convey that he’s scared but Kurt makes him a little less scared.
“Explain for me what you don’t want, Blaine,” And Kurt is so patient, so
genuinely caring that Blaine has to close his eyes, clutch his stomach and
breathe through his nose. Kurt makes him so happy.
“I want anything with you, for you, Sir,” Blaine finds himself saying, and god
it’s true.
“You’re sweet,” Blaine catches the fond look Kurt gives him. “But I really do
need you to set your hard limits. I know you say everything but myeverything
could be very different from your everything.”
Blaine sits back, thinks. He hasn’t done this before but he’s watched a lot of
videos and read a lot of posts. He thinks he genuinely does want to try
everything at least once, but Kurt isn’t asking for that, at least not yet.
“Um…just, don’t – don’t mention the fact that my parents are downstairs, like
ever, okay?” Blaine shakes his head against the self-hatred, looks away from
Kurt’s caring eyes. “Please do not call me…worthless. Or a slut. Please.”
“You know  I don’t think those things about you, Blaine,” Kurt says, and Blaine
looks back to him, watches him lean closer to the screen, “and you know they’re
not true.”
“I know I’m not a slut…” even if he does feel a bit disgusting sometimes. Like
too many people have touched him, too many people have soiled and sullied
things he didn’t know could be.
“And you’re not worthless either,” Kurt says, and the finality rings in the
air.
“I know…” he opens his eyes, catches Kurt’s and tries to tell him that he’s on
his way to maybe believing it.
--
“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous, Blaine,” Kurt pants, and Blaine moans into
the cloth of his tie, watching Kurt stroke himself.
“Add another finger, Blaine,” Kurt says and Blaine nods, spreading his legs a
bit wider and adding the third one.
“Does that feel good, Blaine?” Kurt purrs at him and Blaine has to nod, bucking
his hips against the sting. “Stretched around practically nothing, no release
for your hard cock?”
Blaine groans, wishes he could lick up the spit dripping from his mouth but
that somehow makes this that much more erotic. He pumps his fingers a little
bit faster, making sure to brush his prostate. His arm hurts from how long Kurt
has had him draw this out, finger after finger and so slow.
“Nod once for green, twice for yellow and three times for red,” Kurt breathes
out, and the sounds coming from through the computer screen slow down.
Blaine gives a jerky nod, works his hips up and onto his fingers, spread so
wide he knows there isn’t a thing Kurt can’t see and god he loves it like that.
Like this.
“Take your fingers out,” Blaine obeys, whining at the loss, “spread your legs a
little wider for me,” Blaine obeys again, panting into the gag. For a moment
Kurt just watches him as he pumps his own cock, barely making a sound as he
does. Blaine’s pleasure doesn’t descend from the high place it’s been at for so
long, doesn’t dip even a little as he watches Kurt watch him.
Kurt’s fist moves a little faster and he says, “Touch yourself, I want to see
you come for me, darling.”
Blaine wraps his hand around his cock and tugs, twists the head between his
fingers and works himself up to it. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve laid
eyes on, Blaine,” Kurt says, voice rising higher and higher as he comes over
his fist.
Blaine moans into the gag and follows after, wave after wave of pleasure
rolling down his spine and leaving him sated.  
 --
Blaine wants to say that it’s enough, that seeing Kurt is enough.  But the
truth is, when his mother and father are downstairs yelling about one thing or
the other, it’s not enough. Those are the days when he feels worthless.
He wants to touch Kurt, he wants Kurt to make him feel something other than the
self-hatred that beats itself into his chest whenever downstairs they say
something particularly hateful to each other. He wants Kurt to tie him down,
take away his senses because a lot of the time he feels like he doesn’t even
deserves to be alive. He swallows pills when the throbbing is a little too much
and falls asleep to them still yelling.
And there are other times, when he sits on his bed and makes another scar for
everything they yelled at him as they beat him to the ground, for every cruel
word that they made true when they impressed their hatred into his heart
Stroking himself on top of his bed to filthy videos, getting off to things that
make him ache for something he can’t have, and then feeling sick with himself
as he spills over his fist.
Because he is truly, utterly disgusting, looking for something that should be
for adults and adults only, something that he still doesn’t quite understand.
So, just seeing Kurt is not enough because when he feels all of those things,
there’s no one around to take the blade or the pills away because no one
actually cares.
Besides Kurt, and sometimes it feels like Kurt isn’t even real.
---
His reflection is nice, despite all the ugly things he’s currently feeling. He
looks like a proper schoolboy, on the outside, one without scars and one
without a twisted need deep in his belly for something he can’t have. He closes
his eyes and wraps his arms around himself, breathing deeply through his nose.
Blaine knows what he needs. He needs Sir, his Sir, his Kurt.
For a second, just a brief second he imagines him behind him, wrapping his arms
around him and kissing the back of his head, reassuring him because no one else
will, because he’s the only one that ever would. Blaine doesn’t want to feel
ashamed, but he can’t help it, he does. But he can’t do this alone, he needs
somebody even if that somebody is someone he’s just made up, someone to keep
him occupied, someone he misses even though he’s never met them.
Blaine doesn’t think he can walk into a new school alone, nearly defenseless,
but he will because he has too. But he can imagine, and he can hope that there
will be someone there for him, someone who cares if his arms ache that day.
His sleeves are long – always long and his pants are loose because it – it
hurts if anything is too tight. Besides that tie around his neck, no; he wants
to tighten the tie farther and farther around his neck going, going until
someone tells him to stop, until Kurt, Kurtwith his strong hands and kind eyes
and muscled arms brings him away from the edge.
With a sigh he lets the image drop away from his mind, picking up his bag and
glancing at his reflection to make sure that nothing is out of place, before
walking down the stairs of a still quiet house and leaving without a goodbye.
---
Dalton is a large place, Blaine soon finds out. There are a lot of corridors
and a lot of art pieces and a lot of history, but above it all there are a lot
of students, masses of teenage bodies in one place at any given time.
It’s a little too much for Blaine, and he clenches his eyes as he stands with
his back to a wall, schedule gripped tightly in his hand. Usually, they told
him, he would have been assigned someone to show him the ropes, but things were
just so busytoday, and he’d be fine, they said.
He’s starting to hyperventilate, his chest constricting tightly, and the tie
feels loose now, so he brings a hand up and holds it to his throat, trying to
breathe through his nose. He is in a mostly secluded area so no one finds him
and no one would think to come looking for him because who does he know? Who
would care?
You’re okay, Blaine. It’s on repeat in his mindyou’re okay, you’re okay,
you’llbeokay.
Blaine wrenches his eyes open when the bell rings and students start rushing
from one place to another and he forces himself away from the wall,
straightening his jacket and looking at his schedule to find his room again.
221B. Okay. He can do this.
Find the classroom, slip in, give the teacher his information, find a seat and
say nothing unless required. Simple. He can do this.
---
It’s five to ten minutes of wandering but soon enough Blaine’s standing in
front of 221. He stands outside the door, pepping himself for the impending
embarrassment at being nearly fifteen minutes late.
He presses a trembling hand to his heart, slowly traveling up to his throat,
squeezing at the base slightly. His eyes close and he’s pretending, once again,
that there’s someone behind him, someone telling him that he’s good, he’s going
to be fine, that it’ll be okay. Someone who means it, someone who believes in
the words they’re whispering in his ear.
With one last deep breath he walks in, expecting the usual, eyes on him, voices
lowering, but instead there is nothing but a lot of empty desks, not a student
in sight. He looks around for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, and breaths starting
to layer over each other.
A million options race through his mind, all of them centering on the fact that
he’s stupid, this is all wrong.
“Um, hello?” He doesn’t get very far in his panic before there’s a voice
calling out to him, pulling him out of his self-doubt, for just a moment.
And he looks up, and spins around, and meets the eyes that will always,
always,make him ache.
-
Blaine thinks this is the type of moment that authors describe – where it
really feels like you’re suspended in space.
His breath is short, shorter than it was, and now everything feels too tight on
his body. He’s standing there, looking into Kurt’s eyes and he doesn’t have one
fucking word.
Kurt is finally here, Kurt is here, and Blaine is utterly choked.
His grip loosens slowly on his bag and it hits the ground with a thud but
Blaine can’t find anything in him to care enough.
And Kurt, god, Kurt is just staring, not saying a word or moving an inch.
Staring at himand this time there’s no medium between them. He could reach out
and touchif he wanted to, and god does he want to.
He sees it when it registers in Kurt’s eyes – he blinks multiple times and
straightens his back, fixing his tie.
“Can I help you? Do you have the wrong class?”
Blaine blinks and feels tears coming on because it feels so right, hearing
Kurt’s voice in real life. “Kurt.”
It’s all he can actually vocalize, and he finds himself taking steps forward,
hand twitching upwards as he reaches for Kurt. He wants to pull him in and
fucking smellhim, bury himself inside of Kurt and never come out.
“Stop. Tell me your class so I can help you find it,” At this Blaine finally
looks up at Kurt and he stops moving towards him, startled by the look in his
eyes.
It’s familiar to Blaine but at the same time it’s not. Kurt’s whole face has
hardened, his eyes and face shifting into a mode Blaine can only refer to as
Sir, and Blaine wants to kneel, he wants to kneel right there on the dirty
classroom floor.
But it’s the utter fear in Kurt’s eyes that stops Blaine from throwing himself
at Kurt’s feet, and has him shakily handing over his schedule. He watches Kurt
scan the page, chewing on his bottom lip before looking up to the side and
motioning Blaine to follow him.
Blaine does, picking up his bag and shuffling over to a door on the side of
Kurt’s room and waiting as Kurt unlocks it and gestures him in. Blaine looks at
all the other kids who have looked up at the interruption and feels sick again,
because this day just keeps getting worse and worse.
“My room is, ah – 221A. It’s okay. Common mistake. They should really label
everything. Have a good day.”
And Kurt is finally looking Blaine in the eye, saying a lot with a glance. His
eyes are wide and glistening, and they are soscared and Blaine doesn’t
understand a lot, but for now, he understands this:
Just let it be. Please.
“Thanks Mr. Hummel.”
--
The rest of Blaine’s day is uneventful. He gets to every class late because he
doesn’t know where anything is, but all the teachers brush it off with a smile.
He doesn’t learn much, even though they definitely teach. His thoughts are
focused on Kurt, even more so than usual, but he can’t bring his brain to
actually jot down notes when Kurt, Sir, is currently in the same building as
him.
It’s unfathomable to Blaine, that after a summer of want, a summer of raw
needthat he could very well have Kurt.
But Kurt had made it clear with his eyes, telling him to go to class and leave
it alone because there was nothing they could do. Blaine doesn’t want to wait,
though. Kurt is here, Kurt can finally be his and Blaine can’t go another day
not knowing, six hours was torture enough.
And god, Blaine is itching for Kurt to have him, for Kurt to finally do all the
filthy things he’s said he would to him, for Kurt to finally mark his body like
they’ve each beencravingand Blaine shifts in his seat, making his decision.
Blaine stands in front of 221A, takes a deep breath and tries the handle. It’s
unlocked, and he walks in to find Kurt sitting at his desk, glasses perched on
his nose as he grades papers. Blaine stands in the doorway for a second,
watching as Kurt marks papers, going through them with determination. Blaine
almost sighs – looking at Kurt in person is much more fulfilling than staring
at him through a screen and only wishinghe could touch.
Now, Blaine takes a step in and closes the door, watching as Kurt looks up at
the sound.Blaine smiles tentatively when their eyes meet, locking the door.
Kurt stands up, and Blaine cannot, he cannotstop himself from rushing forward,
locking his arms around Kurt as tears well up in his eyes.
God, Blaine has neverfelt so good. Pressing his body to Kurt is better than he
imagined and he just longs for all the layers to dissipate,foranything
separating their bodies to disappear so Blaine can wrap himself around Kurt.
It’s only then that Blaine realizes that Kurt is not hugging him back; in fact,
Kurt is tensed in his arms, hands stiff at his sides. Blaine frowns and runs a
hand up Kurt’s back, relishing in the feel of muscle beneath his fingers.
Kurt starts resisting, sliding his hands up and to Blaine’s shoulders, gently
moving him away from him. “Blaine, this is inappropriate.”
Blaine frowns and takes a step closer because he doesn’t understand, why is
Kurt retreating from him? He reaches out a hand, but Kurt backs out of his way.
“Kurt, please, I don’t understand,” Blaine swallows against the tears because
everything is feeling dark again. He grabs his forearm and brings it across his
stomach, hardly able to breathe.
Kurt is leavinghim.
“We can’t do this Blaine, not here – “
Blaine jumps at the chance, reaching out to Kurt again and feeling like a child
when he’s rejected. “I know, I know. Let’s just, go, okay? And we can talk
about it just – stop running from me, please.”
Blaine feels like all of the wounds Kurt has closed, like everything he has
helped heal is becoming undone. His body is itching, itching to drop to the
floor and beg for his Sir’s mercy, because Blaine is so sorryfor whatever he’s
done. He follows his instincts, because maybe that is what Sir wants. He drops
his bag and lowers himself to his knees, spreading his thighs and bowing his
back, finally letting his tears fall.
“Sir, please. Please take me home,” And when Blaine says home Blaine means,
home, with Kurt. He wants to be laid out under Kurt’s hand, panting into his
arm as Kurt decides where he wants it to go tonight, knowing they will start
over tomorrow. Blaine wants to wake up with Kurt’s strong arm around him,
squeezing against his waist as he nuzzles into his hair.
Blaine wants it all – Blaine thought he had it all, but it is slipping away,
slipping away so fast Blaine can hardly touch it.
“No, -- fuck, Blaine,” Kurt doesn’t sound like he knows what to do, but at this
point Blaine would take anything, he would take anything from Kurt.
“Okay, okay,” Blaine sees Kurt’s slacks in his line of sight, and suddenly his
head is being tilted upwards, his eyes going up to the ceiling.
“Blaine, look at me,” Blaine does, and he’s startled by the blue, startled by
Kurt’s face directly in front of his.
“Blaine, I need you to come back to me. You’re drifting, but I need you here.
If you insist on talking about this we will talk, but you have to be here.Come
back to me. “
Blaine blinks, trying to register Kurt’s words. When it finally hits he
scrambles up, tears flowing more freely now.
“I just…I don’t know what you want from me…” Blaine knows he sounds helpless,
he sounds lost, but he islost. Kurt is sending him mixed signals and Blaine’s
picking up on them all and he can’t decipher what Kurt wants.
Blaine knows what he wants. He wants to be Kurt’s, completely and irrevocably.
“I know but I don’t wantanything – “ Blaine sucks in a sharp breath, scrambling
for his bag because Kurt has said it, this is over.
Kurt does not want him, and Blaine won’t push. He’s hyperventilating now,
everything dizzy. His whole body is aching right now, including his head and
now he wants to be at home, tucked into his bed so he can go back to crying
alone.
“Fuck! Blaine, listen to me,” Kurt yanks him around by the shoulder, making his
bag drop to the floor, and suddenly Blaine is being pushed against the
whiteboard, his chest against Kurt’s.  
“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant, calm down, please,” The feeling of Kurt
pressed to him is making everything slow down, making everything move in slow
motion.
“Just breathe. Match your breaths to mine.” Blaine obeys, sucking in deeps
breaths in time to Kurt’s. Kurt is solid against him, restricting his breath in
the good way, assuring him that Kurt is there, for no matter how long he may
need.
Kurt pulls back after a minute, and Blaine looks up at him, nuzzling against
the hand stroking his cheek. Kurt looks to be contemplating something, his nose
pinched up. Blaine wants to kiss his nose, tell him he’s sorry for making him
feel bad.
“Blaine, god, Blaine,” Kurt starts, sucking in a breath. “You’re the most
gorgeous, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” Kurt’s arms wrap around his waist,
his back still to the whiteboard, but Blaine brings his arms up around Kurt’s
neck anyways, and does not complain. He’s lucky, right now. Kurt is saying
these wonderful things to him and Blaine wants to revel in the words Kurt is
whispering to him.
“Of course I want you,” Kurt’s lips brush across his forehead and Blaine closes
his eyes, feeling as if his body is about to sink right into Kurt’s.
“Then take me home,” Blaine can’t help but say it. That’s all he wants right
now, to be with Kurt. This is a messy, terrifying situation but just laying
with Kurt would make everything better.
Kurt inhales sharply again, his lips thinning against Blaine’s forehead.
They’re quiet for a moment and Blaine dares to let himself hope, let his world
build itself up and up and –
“We can’t,” Kurt is pulling away from him, taking his whole world with him and
Blaine slumps against the whiteboard, already crying again. He closes his eyes.
He’s going to go home, open any ice cream he has and weep until he upheaves his
own heart.
“Hey, none of that,” Kurt rests a hand on Blaine’s neck, stroking the tendons
there. “You knowwe can’t.”
“Please?” Blaine will beg. He will.
“No. You know that,” Kurt is stern, looking at him with fondness in his eyes
and Blaine wants to scream because he wants it too, of course he does.
“However, this is what’s going to happen,” Blaine looks up, traitorous hope
settling at the pit of his stomach.
Kurt smiles at him, still stroking his neck. “You’re going to go home, okay? I
want you to eat something, anything you want, and I want you to finish your
homework. I know they gave you some, it’s Dalton.” Blaine smiles because it’s
funny, and Kurt is smiling because Blaine is smiling and if this isn’t the most
unusual cycle of things.
“Do whatever chores you have for your parents, and then do whatever you want.
Go to bed at some reasonable time. Please. For me.”
For you.Blaine can do anything for Kurt, they both know that.
“And then tomorrow, I want you to come in a little early, and help me set up
for the day, okay? And we’ll just talk, like we usually do. Everything will be
fine. This is not…this is not something we could have accounted for, okay.”
“Please don’t let this get to you, Blaine,” Blaine feels a hand stroke across
his wrist and Blaine feels his dick throb and his heart beat harder at the
touch to his cuts. “I know this is hard and not what we were expecting, but we
have to try. I will do my best to find us both some type of balance because
Blaine, I can’t let you go, but don’t worry about that, okay? I just need you
to try. ”
Blaine can’t express how good it feels, how grounded he feels to have something
to follow, something Sir has told him to do. He’s going to follow every order
to the dime, and he’s going to feel good while he does it.
“We have to be very careful, alright?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Never call me that where people can hear you, okay?” Blaine nods, looking
away.
“I assume this means no Skype…”
“You can always text or call me if you need anything, but no, I don’t think
it’s best for either of us if we Skype each other,” Kurt squeezes the side of
his neck, and Blaine feels the smile directed at him.
Blaine nods, contemplates asking it for a second but he needs to know, he needs
to know now. “Does this mean I have permission to touch myself? When,” he
lowers his voice, “when you don’t know, can I come?”
“Yes, Blaine. But…I would prefer it if you texted or called me before you try
anything like gagging yourself, alright? Regular orgasms are fine, but if you
feel the need to be dominated, well. I find that a valid excuse for needing to
call me, alright?”
“Will I not get to see you outside of school at all?”
“You’ll see me before and after, if you like. I told you I can’t let you go,
not completely.” And Kurt smiles at him, smiles at him with an assurance that
Blaine feels in his bones.
Blaine smiles up at Kurt gently, trying to blink away his tears. He’s going to
stop crying – and he’s going to do as Kurt has asked.
He will do anything Kurt asks.
---
Blaine knocks on Kurt’s classroom door tentatively, trying to not look
suspicious, even if he couldn’t help the anxious way he kept shifting. He had
missed Kurt, and he was aching to get inside where Kurt was and wrap his arms
around him.
Blaine finds the door unlocked when there is no answer and he finds Kurt at his
desk, foot tapping at the floor in what Blaine can only deem a nervous twitch.
Besides that little tick Kurt is a determined statue, pouring over papers and
marking them resolutely.
Blaine admires his outfit for the day, an emerald, collared shirt stretching
over his chest and bringing out the blond highlights in his hair, paired with a
midnight colored tie.
Kurt is gorgeous, Kurt is, “Sir.” He says it out loud because Kurt has finally
looked up at him, eyes shining brightly as he takes him in.
They stare at each other for a moment before Kurt blinks and looks away, down
to the papers, to the window at the top of the class, to his computer screen.
Blaine watches as Kurt closes his eyes and seems to compose himself before he
stands up and smiles at Blaine, running a hand down his stomach, “Hello
Blaine.”
“Hey K – Mr. Hummel,” Blaine winces, dropping his bag as he starts towards
Kurt, arms open, expecting a hug.
“Blaine, stop.”
Blaine stops, lowering his arms in defeat and hanging his head. There are no
tears this time, just the stinging burn of rejection to match the burning of
his back, the pulse of his forearm.
“Sorry,” His voice is thick with emotion, swallowing dryly. He shakes his
shoulders, standing up straight and trying to let it roll off his back.
He has to get used to the fact that no matter how much he wants him, no matter
how hard his heart clenches when around Kurt, he has to get used to the fact
that he can’t have him.
There’s so much going against them in so many ways, and it is obvious Kurt’s
not going to let anything happen. So Blaine will be content to take what he
can, even if it means waking up an hour early and bringing Kurt his favorite
coffee, even if it means a few more cuts whenever he can’t do it alone.
“So, what did you need me to help you with?” Blaine forces a smile, picking up
his bag and moving it from the middle of the floor.
“Blaine – “
Blaine can hardly look at Kurt. He can’t force himself to meet his eyes and see
the longing he knows is there but he’ll never be able to feel. Blaine shakes
his head, pulling out his phone and checking the time just to have something to
do. They still have about an hour before his next class, and even then it’s
right next door.
He breathes in through his nose, tugging at his sleeve and letting the scent of
freshener wash over him. Blaine has to crack a smile; it’s so like Kurt to have
a plug-in to keep his room fresh. Kurt is very meticulous about things, Blaine
has learned. From the way he styles his hair in the morning to the way he
instructs Blaine to touch himself, watching intently through the computer
screen and –
Blaine doesn’t know a lot of things, but he knows Kurt. He knows Kurt wants
this just as much as him, but he also knows that Kurt has too much integrity to
let them have what they want.
“I love the way it smells in here,” Blaine says, walking around Kurt’s
classroom. All of the desks are straightened to perfection, so Blaine walks
down the rows slowly, running his fingertips across each one. Underneath the
desks are textbooks, and Blaine bends down to pick one up.
“You teach History?” Blaine asks, surprised. He turns around to see Kurt
shuffling his papers, nodding his head to Blaine’s question. He’d known Kurt
had a teaching degree, but if they talked about his job it was always about
Broadway roles – teaching was only mentioned once. Kurt hadn’t even told him he
was moving back to Ohio, just that his dad was sick in Ohio. It had made Kurt
so sad just to mention it in passing; Blaine had figured he’d talk to him on
his own.
Guess not.
Look at them now.
“Help me grade some papers, yeah?” Blaine agrees, taking the seat Kurt offers
him from at his desk and accepting the pen he hands to him as well. He can’t
help but feel special, sitting in Kurt’s plushy chair behind his desk, his
computer screen still unlocked before him.
Kurt is behind him, pointing at the papers, “Multiple choice are worth 2 points
and response questions are worth ten. Got it?”
Blaine looks up at Kurt over his shoulder and smiles at him, nodding his head.
Kurt smiles back at him for a second, a hand resting on his shoulder as they
maintain eye contact.
Their eyes stay locked for a moment and for one pleasantly hopeful second as he
watches all the conflicting emotions flit over his face -- eyebrows scrunching
up, his bottom lip being pulled between his teeth  --  Blaine let’s himself
think that Kurt’s going to lean down and kiss him on the lips, leaving behind
his inhibitions and caution. Blaine let’s himself hope Kurt was going to reach
down and wrap  an arm around his waist, pulling him to his chest and kissing
Blaine until he couldn’t feel anymore of his scars.
But Kurt shakes his head and pulls away, his hand dragging across Blaine’s back
and Blaine feels the touch for the rest of the day.
---
Kurt had said to not let it get to him, so Blaine – he tries. He tries not to
let the weight of rejection hold him down, he tries not to let Kurt’s distance
and hesitance undo all the goodKurt has inflicted upon him.
Blaine thinks that he will always be grateful for Kurt: his smiles, his wit,
his kindness, his compassion – the list goes on. He’s not going to let a bad
circumstance drag him all the way back down.
So he sucks it up and brings Kurt coffee every morning, his back aching from
where they pushed him to the ground and his right hand pressing to his left
forearm in an attempt to feel anything but rejection as he hands Kurt the cup
and Kurt still won’t touch him passed a fleeting nudge. He needs more; he needs
what he once had – what they once had. He needs and wants it back, but he can’t
have it.
He breathes in through his nose and hands Kurt another coffee.
He’s not going to let it get to him.
---
“You know what you should do?” Kurt asks him one day, sitting next to him at
his desk. Blaine glances up from the worksheet he’s grading to find Kurt
impossibly close to him, closer than usual and Blaine takes a deep breath,
looking back down to the paper.
“No – what?” He feels Kurt shift away and Blaine sighs, marking a wrong answer.
“Join the Warblers,” Blaine immediately stiffens at Kurt’s words, stilling in
his marks. Why, whywould Kurt suggest that when he knows – he knows.
“You know I can’t do that,” Blaine says, standing up. It’s time for him to go,
apparently. But Kurt grabs his hand, pulling him back to the chair in a firm
motion.
“You can,” Kurt says, and Blaine refuses to look at him, “You can, and I know
you want to.” Kurt hasn’t let go of his hand yet and for the first time Blaine
finds himself tugging away, disconnecting their hands. Kurt’s asking the
impossible of him, asking him to do something that stirs up so many memories,
the phantom ache of his hip bone.
“Goodbye Kurt, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Blaine says, and leaves.
---
Later that night, Blaine finds himself holding his cellphone in one hand and
his bottle of Vicodin in another. He feels like his heart is going to beat out
of his chest, and his stomach is clenched in tight on himself. He’s sweating,
and he just wants to feel better.
The Vicodin could take it away for a moment or two, but Kurt may have the power
to actually convince him it’s okay.
And plus, he wants to hear Kurt’s voice.
He always wants to hear Kurt.
He calls Kurt.
Kurt picks up with, “Blaine, why are you calling so late are you alright?”
“I need…” he trails off, swallows, “I need something.” He doesn’t quite know
what. He just needs for it to feel better.
There’s a silence and then, “Like? Blaine, you know you have to give me
specifics.”
“I don’t know!” Blaine whisper yells into his pillow. He turns his head to the
side to talk clearly and feels the tears run towards his ears. “I just know I
have so much work and I only have the stupid pills and my head hurts and my
back hurts and god I just want to sing and I know I can’t and I just want to
take it all away.”
“Blaine,” Kurt’s voice is strong. “Sit up,” Blaine does, “pick up the bottle of
pills, and walk to the bathroom.”
Blaine follows the orders, not quite sure where this is going but his heart
doesn’t feel so tight anymore, listening to Kurt’s voice giving orders.
“Blaine Anderson, I don’t have enough words to describe what a beautiful,
strong person you are,” Kurt starts, and Blaine looks up, into the mirror. His
eyes are bagged and his hair is crumpled. “You astound me with your will to be
alive, Blaine. I’ve never seen someone who enjoys life quite like you do. And
you deserve it, you deserve your happy life.”
There’s shuffling, and Blaine realizes he’s crying, “I know things seem hard
right now, with me and you and I’m sorry I can’t give you want you want and I’m
sorry I even mentioned the Warblers today.”
“Our circumstance is not your fault, Kurt,” he says quietly, but Kurt only
grunts and keeps going.
“I just want to see that shine in you again, Blaine. I know it’s there, and
it’s the most joyous thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. You have a
life to live, you have great things to achieve.”
Blaine wipes at his face, looks back up into the mirror. He wants so badly to
believe what Kurt has said to him, but he looks into the mirror and just sees a
red faced, crumpled, defeated mess.
“Set the bottle down in the bathroom, out of your room,” Kurt says, and it’s a
clear order that Blaine follows. His chest feels a little lighter with it,
knowing he’s obeying Kurt. “And promise me that you’ll only use them when you
need them for pain. And if you feel like you need them for anything other than
pain, you have to call me. I will answer, and if I don’t, I want you to talk
into my voicemail until you feel better. Go outside, take a walk. Distance
yourself from it, and remember that I think you’re the most amazing person to
grace my life.”
“You are so much better than you think, and I am so proud to know someone with
such resilience. It feels like the end right now, but I promise, it’s not. And
I will always be here for you.”
---
It stings as his mother laughs, high-pitched and awkward, “Oh honey, you’re not
going anywhere.”
“But – “ He tries to protest, but it dies in his throat at his father’s look.
It stings when she pats his hand and smiles at him, grabbing the hand,
“After…everything…are you sure you want to go out there alone?”
Blaine’s mind, heart, soul is screaming at him, screaming at him to rip his
hand away and tell her yes, I’d rather be out there alone than trapped here.
But he doesn’t say anything, instead watching as she goes back to cooking,
talking about how he can just go to the Columbus University and how he could
commute from home. Blaine’s breath is coming much shorter than it was, little
puffs that barely escape.
He turns around and leaves the room, stumbling up the stairs with the feeling
of pressure on his chest.
He drops to his bed, stuffing his face in his pillow. He doesn’t want a lot, he
doesn’t ask for much.
All I can recall ever asking for, he thinks as he reaches into his bedside
drawer and pulls out pills, swallowing a couple dry and grimacing when they get
stuck in his throat, is to be happy. He covers his face, lays back and tries
not to think about how disappointed Kurt would be if he knew.
He remembers a time when Cooper was still living at home, playing around with
him like older siblings do. Cooper had taken his truck, holding it over his
head as Blaine reached for it. He remembers thinking, and then saying, “That’s
not fair!”
And Cooper had laughed, patted his head and danced out, shouting, “Life isn’t
fair, Squirt!”
Now that Blaine’s older he realizes that’s true –but only because no one cares
enough to makelife fair, for those who have it a little harder. He’s always
going to be the underdog, no matter how well he sings or dances or plays
sports.
However, when he was seven he didn’t know that stuff, so he began working for
it, working to be the perfect person so he wouldn’t have his toys taken away
anymore.
Now he lays back and lets it wash over him, giving up. There’s no one he can be
good for anymore, no one who cares enough that everything he’s been doing will
pay off.
Except for Kurt, but sometimes he has to wonder if this situation with Kurt
will ever amount to anything or if he’s just going to be constantly grasping
for straws that are not there. He wonders if there’s going to be a time when
he’s not going to be holed up in his room, scissors to his arm and mind fuzzy,
vision blurry with his own self-hatred.
He wonders if he’ll ever stop wanting to take a couple more pills, hoping
they’ll take the edge off permanently.
Blaine calls Kurt, because that’s the only thing he knows of for sure, right
now. Even if Kurt doesn’t wanthim, Kurt cares enough to talk him away from the
ledge.
It rings twice before Kurt picks up, “Blaine, Blaine, are you okay? Why are you
calling me?”
“Kurt,” his tongue feels thick in his mouth and he swallows around the word,
feeling as though he’s falling apart too fast.
“Blaine, talk to me,” Kurt’s voice is rising in pitch, worry etching its way
into his tone and Blaine frowns, Kurt shouldn’t feel like that.
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” He smiles lazily, stretching his body out on the
bed. “Just…” He trails off, throwing an arm across his face because why had he
called Kurt again?
“Blaine, I need you to listen to me. Are you listening?” Blaine sits up at
Kurt’s serious tone, his eyebrows pinching together regretfully. He’s fucked up
again, it seemed.
“Yeah, I’m listening,” Blaine says, groaning as he stretches out more and
everything begins to ache.
“Okay. Where are you? Are you safe?”
“Home. As safe as I can be, here.”
“Are your mom and dad home?”
“Yeah… They’re downstairs doing something or other. Barely even know I’m up
here.” Blaine is aware of the bitterness that laces his tone but he can’t bring
himself to care, he doesn’t care. They can’t bring themselves to care that
their son is just upstairs on the verge of something so horrible, too busy
plotting out his life plans for him.
“What have you taken?”Blaine laughs bitterly, tears flowing down his face. He
sniffles, clenching his eyes and trying to will it away because it’s not even
morning and he already regrets it, he can already feel the burn building back
up.
“A couple of Vicodin.” He hears Kurt inhales very sharply before there’s some
rustling, things being shut and opened.
“Christ,Blaine, I told you to call me before you took the pills.”
“Sorry,” Blaine murmurs. 
“I’m coming to get you. Be outside when I text you.”
“But my parents – “
Kurt cuts him off with a hiss and Blaine can never remember ever hearing Kurt
sound so angry, so sincere in something. “I don’t give a damnabout your parents
Blaine. Pack clothes for two nights and be outside when I text you.”
It’s an order, a direct order that makes Blaine’s body thrum through the haze.
He picks himself up, pressing the phone to his ear as he thinks that maybe Kurt
will finally save him.
“Oh – okay, Sir,” It slips out without a second thought, second nature to him
by now. Somewhere down the line he hears Kurt sigh and Blaine bows his head in
defeat.
Things are not changing.
---
Kurt helps him out of his car and into his house, an arm slung over his
shoulder and a steady arm around his waist to keep him from falling over.
Everything is dulled but, at the same time, moving way too fast for him. The
opposing sensations are going to make him puke anytime soon, of that he’s sure.
He’s hardly able to spare Kurt’s house an appreciative once over before he’s
being deposited into Kurt’s bed.
Blaine thinks he should be more ecstatic because he’s finally in Kurt’s bed,
but he’s starting to sweat now, everything too tight and warm on his body.
Kurt is there for him when he starts struggling against his coat, helping him
slip it off and then wriggle out of his pants.
Blaine’s eyes are drooping now but on the last dregs of his coherency he
catches Kurt staring at him with a pensive expression on his face, his lips
pursed and his eyebrows furrowed.
“What – “ Blaine has to swallow again, his throat too dry to speak, “What’s
wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Kurt sighs, pulling back the covers and helping Blaine slide under them
carefully. Blaine goes willingly, but he has to reach out for Kurt’s hand at
the same time, gently tugging at him.
“Come to bed with me?”
Blaine immediately closes his eyes against the impending rejection after he
says it, because god,he’ll never learn to keep his mouth shut, will he?
Kurt does not want him, Kurt does not want him.Not like that, not right now, he
knows.Kurt has made it clear, and somewhere in his mind, Blaine understands
that, even if his heart won’t cooperate and makes him say stupid things, makes
him want for things he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get again. A few seconds pass
and Blaine is about to open his mouth and – say something.Apologize for being
the dumb young kid he is, apologize for not letting the rejection sink in,
apologize for failing to always keep Kurt happy.
He doesn’t get a word out though, because then Kurt is off the bed and Blaine
opens his eyes, eyes already glistening with tears, his thigh suddenly
throbbing. Kurt is, though, stripping down his clothes and Blaine watches in
awe as inches of skin are revealed to him.
Kurt’s body is even more gorgeous in real life than it is through a computer
screen, skin stretchedtaut over his defined muscles. Blaine watches him strip
down to only his briefs, never looking at Blaine as he does it, dropping his
clothes into a hamper at the side of the room.
Blaine is, once again, hit by the urge to just touchKurt, every inch of him.
Blaine wants to reach out and worship his body as Kurt guides him by his hair,
smooth skin sliding under his lips as he kisses and sucks and bites everything
he can, everything he has permission to.
Kurt gives him a small smile, stepping out of his jeans and sliding into the
bed with Blaine, whispering a soft, “Scoot over, then.”
Blaine immediately does, and before he can hesitate and freak out over being in
the same bed as Kurt, Kurt is wrapping his arms around him and pulling him face
first into his chest. Blaine throws his arms around Kurt’s neck, pressing
himself fully into him as he throws a leg across Kurt’s hip.
He’s not going anywhere, not this time.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning for this chapter: there is a character death, neither Kurt
     nor Blaine. Proceed with caution.
     Music for this chapter: Fade Into You by Mazzy Star, Don’t Kick The
     Chair by Dia Frampton (feat. Kid Cudi), Never Let Me Go by Florence
     and the Machine, Make You Believe by Little Mix, Dog Days Are Over by
     Florence and the Machine, Shake by Walk Off The Earth, Both Of Us by
     B.O.B (feat. Taylor Swift)
Kurt does not sleep very much, that night. He manages to relax his body
underneath Blaine’s, but his mind is too hyped up and reelingto close his eyes
and let him drift asleep.
He wonders how he got here, breaking so many of his own rules (not to mention
the law) and shattering each and every one of his own moral laws. He wonders
how he got here, in bed and practically in love with a boy who wants from him
way more than he’s allowed to give.
Kurt thinks about Blaine; sweet Blaine who just wants to have a reason to
smile, naïve Blaine who’s seen and felt so much of the cruel world yet still
tries to be happy for Kurt.
Kurt cherishes those late night Skype calls where Blaine had basically showed
Kurt his heart and begged him to keep it safe, how Blaine had laid out his body
underneath the computer glow and followed every command, how he will always do
whatever Kurt asks.
He wishes they could go back, back to when things weren’t so utterly
complicated and he could avoid his moral lapses in the day time.
But, then again, Kurt thinks, biting his lip as he runs his hands down Blaine’s
back gently. He lets his fingers brush very gently across Blaine’s ass,
pressing the tips into the tops of Blaine’s thighs, the scabbed skin of a cut
dry underneath his fingers. It feels so good to touch.
Now that Blaine is so close to him, Kurt doesn’t think he cango back to the way
they were, longing from so far away.
Now that he knows that Blaine is really so much worse than he thought, so much
more broken, Kurt doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they have to go back.
Blaine tightens his arms around Kurt’s neck, simultaneously rocking his hips
into Kurt’s gently and Kurt presses his hands into Blaine’s thighs again,
restraining himself from rolling them over and grinding into Blaine until they
come against each other and see stars.
There’s no way he could give this up, and there’s no way he wouldn’t fightfor
Blaine. Fight to keep Blaine in his bed and hidden from so many terrible things
that could happen to him.
Kurt closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep like that, his hands covering
those scars at the top of Blaine’s thighs and with his cheek pressed into
Blaine’s head, fearing so many things he can’t change.
---
Kurt wakes up an hour later, drawing himself out of bed at the glimpse of the
morning sun. It’s Saturday so he could honestly be sleeping in but his body is
not cooperating. He makes sure Blaine is covered and cuddling with the pillow
before sliding on a pair of sweatpants and sitting at the edge of the bed. He
runs a hand through his hair, trying to decide what to do.
He wants a lot of things (a life in New York, a healthy father, his passion
back, for things to stop being so damncomplicated) but above all, he wants
Blaine. He wants to wrap himself up in Blaine and never leave, smiling into his
hair as they lay in bed. He wants to be there for Blaine always, applauding
when Blaine gets his first big audition, when Blaine nails that audition, when
Blaine stands up and accepts all the awards Kurt knows he’ll work hard for.
Kurt is going to take care of Blaine. And he will never leave him.
He turns around to see Blaine with his face pressed into the pillow he’s
cuddling against, eyes clenched tight like he couldn’t feel at peace even in
slumber.
Kurt sighs and presses a hand to Blaine’s dry complexion. He’s going to start
now.
Kurt lays out another pair of sweatpants for Blaine, along with a glass of
water. He leaves a note, wording it very carefully, (“Put these on (there’s a
t-shirt in the dresser to your right, if you feel uncomfortable without one)
and drink the water. There’s a toothbrush and facial cloth in my bathroom. Use
whatever products you want in there, just be careful. I’ll be in the kitchen
when you’re ready.”)and closes the blinds against the sure to be blinding
sunlight. He makes sure Blaine is comfortable before leaving the room to start
on breakfast for them both.
---
He’s halfway through spreading Nutella on the crepes, Blaine’s favorite, when
his doorbell rings. He frowns, unable to remember any visits scheduled for
today and hopes it’s just someone selling something (they could really use some
Girl Scout cookies).
He, instead, opens the door to find none other than Rachel Berry and Mercedes
Jones standing on the stoop of his door.
Shocked is an understatement, right now.
“You know, it’s awful rude to just stand there gaping at your best friends on a
surprisevisit for you,” Rachel practically huffs, smile playing at her lips.
Kurt tries to shake it off and reaches out to hug them both, letting them each
kiss his cheek before letting them in, chattering away already.
“Oh, something smells good Kurt,” Mercedes says, sniffing appreciatively as she
hands Kurt her jacket, Rachel agrees. Kurt smiles gently, hanging their jackets
in the closet.
“In the kitchen, just, ah, making breakfast, for, um...me,” Kurt says, trying
to resist the urge to wring his hands.
“Why don’t you have a shirt on, Kurt?” Rachel says, cocking an eyebrow.
“It’s my apartment, Berry,” Kurt says beckoning them into the kitchen. He looks
up at the clock to see that it’s half past eight. He left the bed at seven, so,
Blaine would honestly be waking up soon.
“Yeah, but you almost always have a shirt on….unless…” Kurt winces at their
synchronized eyebrow raises, shaking his head.
“No, I didn’t have a one-night stand last night,” He tells them, and it’s the
truth. Blaine will never be a one-night stand,even if (when) their relationship
progresses into something more physical, more intimate, Blaine will always mean
more to him.
“So, what brings you here, ladies?” Kurt says, going back to making the still
warm crepes. He is going to have to bring them to Blaine soon, so he hopes the
girls don’t decide to stay long.
“Just thought we’d visit…see how you’re doing? We know how hard it was for you
to leave New York. How’s Dalton?” Mercedes says, grabbing his hand. He frowns,
not liking the reminder of the home he’s so far away from.
“It’s fine, Mercedes. And please stop bringing up New York. I did what I had
to.”
“We just don’t want you to forget where you belong, Kurt,” Rachel says gently,
grabbing his other hand, and fuck, can’t they just let him make breakfast for
the beautiful boy in his bed?
He snatches his fingers from their grasps, mumbling, “I belong with Blaine,”
under his breath, hoping they wouldn’t hear. And as soon as he says it, he
knows it’s true, and that Blaine belongs with him, too him, and that Kurt can
never let go.
“Who’s Blaine?” Fuck.
He shakes his head, rolling the crepes up gently. “Blaine’s – Blaine’s no one.”
That’s a lie.
Kurt hears a small gasp and whips his head around to see Blaine standing in the
doorway to the kitchen, gripping the door frame like he’s going to fall without
the support. Kurt watches him swallow dryly.
“I guess I’ll just – “ Blaine starts off, turning around, hunching over in on
himself.
“No,” Kurt says it as firm as possible, dropping the knife he’d been using.
“No, you’re not. You’re going to go back into the bedroom and wait for me to
bring you some of these delicious crepes. Please. Please.” Kurt catches
Blaine’s eyes, trying to convey as much sincerity and regret in one look as
possible.
Blaine’s eyes dart from Rachel to Mercedes to Kurt, hands fiddling at the top
of the sweatpants and Kurt wants to reach a hand out and place it over his
anxious ones, comfort him in any way possible. He walks around the counter,
completely ignoring Rachel and Mercedes whispering behind him, hands reaching
for Blaine. He puts his hands on his shoulders, guiding Blaine to the bedroom.
“Lie back down, okay? I’ll bring you food,” Kurt says, nudging Blaine towards
the bed. “I don’t want you standing too much.”
Blaine nods, eyes closing against the hand Kurt runs across his forehead. “Who
were those girls?”
“Just some friends. They’ll be gone soon,” Kurt turns around to see that
they’ve followed him, disbelieving looks on their faces as they take in the
scene. Rachel has a hand pressed to her mouth, eyes very wide while Mercedes
has a fist resting on her hip, eyes narrowed.
“Kurt, what the hell is going on?” Mercedes says, trying to take a step into
the room but Kurt just stands up, tossing Blaine the remote to the TV in his
bedroom, mouthing at him to watch what he wants. Kurt places his body between
Mercedes and Rachel and the door, insistently backing them out of the room.
“Kurt, he looks like he’s three!”
“You said you didn’t have a one-night stand! Liar!”
Kurt raises his hands to his temples, feeling a headache come on already. He
largely ignores them, making up a plate for Blaine determinedly.
“Kurt, you can’t ignore us?! What’s going on? Did you sleep with that boy? Who
is he?”
“No, I did not sleep with him,” Kurt hisses, yanking open his refrigerator and
grabbing the milk before slamming it back in as he realizes Blaine prefers
orange juice.
“Don’t lie to us, Kurt. This could get you in serious trouble. He’s under-aged
– “
“Okay, first,” Kurt says, shaking his head as he pours juice into a cup for
Blaine. “I know what I’m doing. I did not sleep with Blaine, and frankly, it’s
none of your business – “
“None of our business? Kurt! We’re your best friends,” Rachel says, reaching
out for his arm but he jerks away, trying not to waste food or juice.
“I don’t need you telling me how to live my life. It’s time for you to go,”
Kurt says, nodding towards the door as he backs into his bedroom where Blaine
is sitting up and staring at him with wide eyes.
“Kurt…?”
Kurt shakes his head, trying to push back the feelings of anger. He hears the
door close and sighs, relieved. He is just one person, and things will
eventually get to even him.
Kurt hands Blaine the plate and sets the juice on the nightstand. He watches
Blaine eat, endeared by the way Blaine catches his eye and blushes as he
shovels the food in his mouth. Kurt gently tells him to slow down before he
stands up, walking around his room and tidying up. He doesn’t let the
domesticity get to him, just focuses on one task at a time.
He wants to sit down in bed and hold Blaine as he eats, his chest to Blaine’s
back as Blaine takes bites, feet tangled together.  The air is almost awkward,
and Kurt wishes it wasn’t like this, that it never became this.
He hears Blaine set the plate down from where he’s rearranging his clothes in
his drawer, and then feels Blaine pressed against him. Kurt tenses at Blaine
kissing up and down his back, hands splaying across his chest and lips feather
soft over his skin.
“No, don’t do that,” Blaine’s hands come up to massage at where his arms are
tensed, hands gripping his dresser tightly as he tries to decide between how
much he wants to let Blaine continue and whether he should.
“Thank you so much for taking care of me, Kurt,” Blaine’s lips brush across the
tops of his shoulders, continuing downward, following the contours of his back
muscles and bones. Kurt let’s his eyes flutter closed, gasps out a breath when
Blaine sucks hard at the small of his back. Blaine’s hands are pressing
insistently into his stomach, making Kurt arch backwards, closer into Blaine’s
mouth.
Kurt drops his head to the dresser, eyes clenched tight against his dilemma.
Blaine kisses back up his back to his neck, sucking at the skin there and
smiling proudly when Kurt’s breath stutters out harshly. Blaine takes his time
with each kiss, mouthing gently and smoothing his tongue over the spot every
time. He finally stands up on his tiptoes and breathes harshly against Kurt’s
ear, closing his eyes and listening to Kurt’s ragged breath.
Kurt feels his knees nearly buckle when Blaine whispers, “Now, please, let me
take care of you, Sir.”
The situation is slipping right out of Kurt’s tentative grasp, especially when
Blaine spins him around by the hips, pressing him against the dresser.
Everything in him is screaming at him to just force Blaine to his knees and
make him take,take whatever Kurt offers. And from the look in Blaine’s eyes
when Kurt brings a hand to his jaw and tilts his face up, he wants it too. Kurt
searches Blaine’s face with his eyes, looking for the apprehension, for the
doubt, but all he sees is a trusting, open boy asking him to fix a lot.
Kurt watches as Blaine’s lips form over an unspoken word, a desperate aching
plea that has Kurt groaning and threading his fingers through Blaine’s hair. He
watches Blaine swallow thickly, throat bobbing and his pupils dilating as Kurt
lets the anticipation build.
“You seem to have forgotten your place, Blaine,” Kurt finally says, and he
feels Blaine shudder, his lips dropping open as he licks across them. It’s then
that Kurt kisses Blaine, for the first time, his need overwhelming him.
For the longest time, he had wondered what Blaine’s lips would taste like. He’d
wondered if he’d ever know, or if he’d always have to guess. He’d wondered if
Blaine really was as perfect as he thought, or if Blaine was just the perfect
sub he’d built up and projected onto a boy through a computer screen.
Kurt feels his toes curl at finally being able to kiss Blaine. It’s just as
amazing as he imagined, the air slowing down around them as they tried to savor
this moment: this feeling. Kurt’s been kissed many times before in his life,
but none will ever compare to sweet Blaine, who gives and takes and gives and
whimpers in joy as he does it.
Kurt lets himself kiss Blaine for a moment, enjoying it. This boy, these lips
are mine, he thinks, prying Blaine’s mouth open, letting his tongue push its
way into Blaine’s mouth.  He sucks on his tongue gently before taking a hand
and pushing on Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine goes willingly, their lips separating
with a smack and a gasp from Blaine.
The sight of Blaine on his knees for him, looking up at him with sweet,
trusting eyes makes Kurt shiver, closing his eyes briefly against the
sensations. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t break eye contact with Blaine as
he threads his fingers through Blaine’s hair again. Blaine brings his hands to
Kurt’s hips, easing the soft material over his thighs. Kurt steps out of the
sweatpants once they hit the ground, eyes glued to Blaine and soaking up every
one of his reactions. The way Blaine nibbles at his bottom lip as he stares at
Kurt’s dick, now clad in only his boxer-briefs. The way Blaine’s breathing gets
deeper and deeper as he eases those, too, off Kurt’s hips and frees his cock.
The way Blaine closes his eyes in utter pleasure as he closes his lips over the
head, sucking gently. Kurt barely stops his hips from bucking into Blaine’s
mouth, the heat and moisture overwhelming.
Kurt throws his head back and arches into it as Blaine takes more and more of
him into his mouth, going so, so slow and so tentatively, so gentle and
innocent.
“Oh my god, Blaine,” Kurt says, tugging at Blaine’s curly strands. He looks
back down to see Blaine with his eyebrows furrowed deeply in concentration, his
hand moving determinedly over what he’s not reaching, and Kurt gulps. He tugs
Blaine’s head backward, away from his cock and he grins at Blaine’s displeased
whine.
“You’re doing so perfectly, baby,” Kurt croons down at Blaine, and Blaine grins
back up at him, his lips pink and swollen and glisteningfrom the vigorous job
he’d been doing.
Kurt feels dizzy with his need to come, with his need to see Blaine take all of
his cock and love it the way he already seems to. “We’re going to try
something.”
As a Dom, Kurt knows that it’s his job to watch his sub’s signs and signals,
making sure that he never pushes too far or takes too much. Blaine has been
receptive and pliant so far, and Kurt cannot take advantage of that, lest he
break his trust and the tentative foundation of commitment they stand on.
Kurt doesn’t think he’s ever had a sub so in tune with everything around them,
so in tune with his own needs and Kurt’s too. Kurt trusts Blaine enough to know
that heknows when to stop, when he’s uncomfortable.
Kurt presses his thumb into the juncture of Blaine’s jaw and Blaine takes the
hint, dropping open his jaw and his eyes fluttering as Kurt gently eases his
cock into his mouth. Kurt shivers again, pressing his thumb a little harder
into Blaine’s jaw. When he’s at least halfway down Blaine’s throat he stops,
hips rocking in tiny motions.  He watches Blaine concentrating so hard, wanting
to be so good for Kurt and Kurt smiles.
“You’re doing so good for me, Blaine, so fucking good,” Kurt groans, hips
rocking a little harder now. He takes his hands away from Blaine’s jaw, puts
them back into his hair as he starts gradually fucking in and out of Blaine’s
mouth, grunts and sighs of pleasure escaping his lips easily.
“God, your mouth is so wonderful, Blaine,” Kurt says, tipping his head back
again. Blaine’s whimpering below him, his mouth too full to say anything but
Kurt knows that, were he able to, he’d be moaning and groaning and sighing and
making somuch noise, his vocal boy.
“I never,” Kurt lets himself thrust again, looking back down at Blaine,
“thought I’d get to do this. I never thought – fuck --I’d get to feel your
perfect mouth on my dick,” Kurt now has his hands at the back of Blaine’s head,
moaning out the words in a rush. “I never thought I’d see my perfect sub in
person, let alone get them on their knees for me.”
Kurt’s eyes are practically rolling back in pleasure, and he’s trying his
damnedest to keep his eyes on Blaine’s face, trying to focus on every tick and
motion.
“Fuck, I’m going to come, Blaine,” Kurt says, pulling his hips back, not
wanting to choke Blaine. But Blaine just keeps his fingers at the back of
Kurt’s thighs, pressing his pelvis farther into his throat, and that’s what
makes Kurt come, sweat dripping from his hair and falling down his neck and
chest.
He finishes coming into Blaine’s mouth, hips rocking in tiny thrusts until it
gets to be too much. Blaine is still kneeling on the floor, arms now wrapped
around himself and gently rocking. There are small, muffled noises coming out
of his mouth and Kurt immediately drops to the floor, reaching out to pry
Blaine’s arms away from him and bring him closer.
“Blaine, Blaine, what’s wrong?” Kurt says, stroking over Blaine’s back, trying
to see what had happened. He found nothing and tilted Blaine’s head up to him,
seeing his eyes closed, clenched tightly.
“Blaine, you have to tell me what’s wrong. Did I hurt you? Do you need to safe
word?”
They don’t actually havea safe word, at least not for them being actually
together. Over the distance they’d had a simple red-yellow-green system, and
neither of them had ever used it before. They haven’t talkedabout much of
anything, and Kurt wants to slap himself, just thinking about where Blaine’s
mind might be right now.
He should have known, should have thought about actually sitting down with
Blaine and laying out where they were, but things had been happening so fast
and almost too quick for Kurt.
He tightens his arms around Blaine, pushing his face into his curls. “Oh, god.
Blaine if you need to stop, tell me.”
Blaine’s body shudders in his arms, and suddenly there’s wet lips being pressed
to his neck. “No, no, please, don’t stop.”
Kurt frowns and pulls back slightly, petting over Blaine’s back reverently.
“Blaine, don’t try to be brave for me. If you need to safe word, please do it.”
Blaine shakes his head against Kurt’s neck, exhaling out shakily. “No, Sir, I
promise I’m fine, just – “
“Just what, Blaine?” Kurt doesn’t stop moving his hands up and down Blaine’s
back, more for comfort than anything else now. Kurt is stunned by Blaine’s
persistence, but not turned off by it.
“Just. Please, I really want you to touch me, Kurt,” Kurt hardly hears the
word’s, they’re mumbled so deeply into his neck. But he catches them and he
smiles, biting his lip. He stands up, grabbing Blaine’s hands and hauling him
up too, snaking his arms around his waist when he wobbles.
Kurt recognizes his instability, and he worries that Blaine might be saying
things that he thinks Kurt wants to hear.
Kurt cranes his neck down so he can whisper in Blaine’s ear, encouraging him to
lay his cheek on his shoulder. “Okay, okay. There’s no rush, just take deep
breaths for me.” Blaine obeys, sucking in hot breaths against Kurt’s skin. Kurt
watches him close his eyes and relax. Kurt follows the movements and ticks of
his face, the distressed way he squeezes his eyes shut and how, when he nuzzles
his nose into Kurt’s skin, that distressed look fades away.
Kurt waits a few moments before he stops swaying them and looks down at Blaine,
waiting patiently for Blaine to open his eyes and meet his. Kurt smiles softly
when their gazes finally lock, loving the way Blaine lights up.
“Good now?” Kurt says reassuringly, eyeing Blaine’s face for any hint of
uncertainty.
Blaine nods, his teeth showing as he grins up at Kurt. Kurt’s breathing catches
at the way Blaine looks right now. Kurt has never seen him so open and bright,
without any reservations or doubts hanging over him. Kurt can’t help but wonder
-- did he do that? Did he become this boy’s reason to smile?
Kurt doesn’t think that would be so horrible. Taking care of Blaine -- sexually
or emotionally or physically – makes him happy like nothing else.
He smiles, because, yeah, he wasn’t that happy before Blaine, was he?
Kurt’s been a Dom for about seven years now. He’s had three other subs in that
time, each of them precious to him in their own ways.
His first sub had been a first-timer just like him. They’d fumbled around and
learned the ropes and taught each other things they couldn’t really understand,
but knew it gave them pleasure.
When they split – their contract was only temporary and tentative, lasting
barely six months – Kurt had felt the loss, but he had not let it stop him. By
then he’d been wrapped up and thrown into the world of BDSM and he loved it
more than anything. He was a quick learner, and he somehowmanaged to juggle
that plus his studies. His second and third subs had both been gorgeous and
experienced, attuning themselves to his needs and Kurt had loved the feeling of
power and trust that had taken over him every time one of them had dropped to
their knees, all for him.
Moving back to Ohio had brought a sense of regret and remorse and longing and
so manyangry feelings, because he was being snatched away from the one world
that he’d always felt at home in. He’d even been making himself a name on
Broadway but it had all been ripped away from him as soon as he got a phone
call saying his father was in critical health from Carole.
Staying in New York was never really an option after that, so he forced himself
to suck it up and say “This is for Dad.”
His chances of finding a sub in Ohio were slim, so he didn’t really try. But
online Domming wasn’t completely taboo and he went for it, because there was no
way he could completely let go.
When he had started the Thingwith Blaine, he had never, ever expected it to
become so much, so much more colossal than he himself thought possible. Blaine
alone was just a lot, how much he needed was, at times, more than Kurt could
provide.
Kurt should have passed Blaine on to a more experienced Dom, he knows this.
Someone who would have been more equipped to handle someone so emotionally
unstable and rejected.  
However, he had quickly decided that Blaine was His.
With all of his experience, all of his years of fumbling and learning, he had
never felt such an inner desire to have someone as His.
And he truly wishes he could say what it was exactly about Blaine that made him
feel like this. At first it was probably just because he’d never seen someone
so desperate and lonely and he -- as a person, not a Dom -- had wanted to help
him not feel that way. It had turned into so, so much more.
Kurt knows that somewhere in him, he should regret this decision. He should
regret ever answering Blaine’s cry for help, he should regret ever meeting
Blaine – Blaine has made things so much more complicated, after all.
But Blaine has also made things so much more wonderful. Kurt has never met
someone who he’s wanted to hold, never met someone he’s wanted to love so hard
– and he thinks that’s amazing, that one person can make him feel that way.
He had never even thought he would find that person. Kurt had been planning on
waiting out the rest of his life alone, romance given up in order to make room
for reality and pleasure. But now that he had it, why should he let this
feeling go? Because some people say that it’s wrong?
That has never, ever stopped him before.
Kurt nudges Blaine backwards and onto the bed, and Blaine immediately scoots
closer to the headboard, looking up at Kurt with excited eyes. The enthusiasm
is rolling off of Blaine in waves now, and Kurt shuffles up on the bed next to
Blaine, lying on his side. He throws a leg over Blaine’s, nudging his thigh
against where Blaine’s still hard.
Blaine is expressive as always, his lips dropping open in a sigh. Kurt can’t
resist sitting up to kiss his mouth, their mouths gliding together slickly. He
brings a hand down and grips Blaine in his hand, moving up and down in slow
strokes.
“You’re so gorgeous, Blaine,” Kurt says against his mouth. “I think you’re so
fucking gorgeous.”
Blaine whimpers, shutting his eyes as he rocks his hips hard. He keeps up a
chant of Kurt’s name, breathy and quick.
“Come whenever you like, beautiful,” Kurt groans out, moving his body with
Blaine’s as he rocks his hips back and forth desperately. Blaine comes almost
immediately after, shouting out and clenching his fingers into the bed sheets.
Kurt watches him come down, not paying mind to the come covering his hand and
Blaine’s stomach. Sweat is rolling down the sides of Blaine’s hair, and he’s
still panting, his cheeks a darker color.
Kurt kisses his open, wet lips again, because he can. Because he wants to, and
because Blaine sighs into it like he hadn’t ever wanted anything more. Kurt
kisses him harder, bringing his clean hand up to the back of his neck, angling
his head back so Kurt has better, deeper access.
“You did absolutely wonderful, Blaine.” Blaine opens his glistening eyes then,
letting a smile take over his face.
“Thank you, Sir,” He says, nuzzling into the hand Kurt has against his neck.
Kurt frowns, reaching up to brush Blaine’s hair away from his eyes. “Hey, look
at me,” He coaxes Blaine to look at him with a finger to his chin, kissing his
lips on more time.
“Call me Kurt.”
Blaine beams.
---
They spend the rest of the day talking and doing mundane things together. They
go to a restaurant that’s far enough away that no one will notice them, and
hold hands on the table, a constant stream of conversation upheld.
When they go to sleep that night, Blaine wraps himself around Kurt just like
the night before. He nudges a leg between Kurt’s thighs and presses close, his
face nuzzling into the crook of Kurt’s neck, like before.
And just like before, Kurt slides his hands down Blaine’s back, to just under
his thighs, brushes his fingers over that dry skin and molds their bodies even
closer.
But unlike that night, Kurt closes his eyes and falls asleep, resigning himself
to a lot in the morning, but enjoying what he has – with all intentions to keep
it.
---
This time, when Kurt wakes up, it’s too hot pressure in between his legs. He
groans and looks down to see Blaine bobbing his head dutifully, taking a little
more than last night and moaning when Kurt involuntarily shifts his hips up.
Kurt remembers his promise of making them actually talk to each other, but
right now he indulges him. He holds tight to Blaine’s hair and rides his
orgasm, bucking his hips just gently.
Blaine pulls off this time, pumps Kurt through it with just his fist, rutting
against the bed. Kurt comes down easily, his hand tightening in Blaine’s hair.
“Sir, please, can I come?” Kurt nods, not breaking eye contact with Blaine as
he spills over the sheets again.
Kurt chuckles, pulling Blaine’s lax body up to him, “You’re going to make me
have to buy whole new sheet set, aren’t you, sweetheart?” He pets a hand over
Blaine’s back, listening to him chuckle breathily.
“That’s my goal,” Blaine shifts his body up and over Kurt’s, settling on his
chest and kissing him deeply. He pulls back after only a moment or two,
nuzzling into Kurt’s neck, which seems to be his favorite place. Kurt doesn’t
say anything, just keeps rubbing his hand up and down Blaine’s back, adoring
the way Blaine arches into it.
His phone rings from his bedside table, shaking him from the easy bliss. He
doesn’t bother looking at it, just picks it up after the second ring with a
vaguely annoyed, “Hello.”
“Kurt!” Kurt winces at Rachel’s shriek, already dreading the conversation.
“Hey, Rachel,” Kurt says, shaking his head at Blaine’s questioning expression.
“So, I’m going to go ahead and assume that twelve-year-old is gone now…” Rachel
says, and Kurt can practically feel the judgments through the phone. He groans,
resisting the urge to hang-up.
“…right?”
“Once again, none of your business, Rachel,” He nudges Blaine off of him,
smiling at his groan. He supposes it was finally time for them to get up and
face the world.
“He is there? Kurt, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Goodbye Rachel,” Kurt hangs-up, rolling on his side and slamming the phone
back to the nightstand. He rubs a hand across his face, sighing, already
exasperated with the day.
He feels a hand on his back and he turns around to see Blaine looking at him
worriedly, thumb rubbing against his tense muscle. “Are you alright?” This is
the first time Kurt had taken into account every inch of Blaine’s body, and all
the scars he sees lining Blaine’s beautiful skin makes him want to puke. There
are a lot, some that look fresh but plenty of them scabbed over. They don’t
completely cover his skin, but they’re impossible to miss. Kurt feels the need
to kiss and worship every single one, make sure Blaine knows he’s worth more
than that.
“I’m fine,” Kurt smiles tightly, grabbing his sweats off the floor and standing
up. “Come on, we’ll eat breakfast and...talk.”
Kurt watches Blaine frown and turn around, his shoulders tensing and his
posture straightening. Kurt’s eyes linger on the scars that Kurt had pressed
his fingers into last night and the night before, along his left thigh, same on
the right.
Blaine turns around, and Kurt’s eyes snap up to his face, not wanting Blaine to
think that he’s so caught up on his scars. Kurt had even seen some of them
before, through a computer screen, but actuallyseeing them feels so much worse.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” The frown has not left Blaine’s face, and Kurt reaches out
a hand, now wearing his sweatpants. And it stings when Blaine does not take the
hand.
It stings so fucking bad.
Kurt dejectedly drops his hand, takes a very tentative step forward, feeling as
if his heart is about to rip in half when Blaine backs away from him, into the
wall. Blaine brings a hand across his stomach as if to protect himself and Kurt
is quickly becoming frantic because things seem to be falling down around him
and he doesn’t know why.
“Blaine…” Kurt tilts his head back, blinking away tears. Kurt feels like he’s
losing him already and they haven’t even gotten to the hard stuff. “Please tell
me what’s wrong. Please.”
He looks back at Blaine who’s frowning even harder now, looking anywhere but at
Kurt. “It’s just…” Kurt watches his throat bob as if whatever he’s about to say
is about to be really hard.  “Just…this is it, isn’t it?”
Kurt rears back, feeling slapped. They are not on the same page at all, are
they? Kurt doesn’t know how Blaine got the idea that he could leavethis; that
he could leave Blaine, his beautiful sub, Blaine, his love.
Kurt’s old enough to know that what he has standing in front of him is love.
Blaine – Blaine is love, and Blaine is everything right in this world,
everything happy, all wrapped up and pushed down into a boy who feels burdened
by things that are decidedly not happy and good. Kurt has love within his
reach, and he’d be an idiot to let it slip away from him.
“Oh Blaine,” Kurt breathes out, reaching out a hand again, practically begging
Blaine to take it.
“No – Kurt – I, I can’t touch you, don’t touch me,” Blaine tries to mold
himself into the wall, openly crying now. “Just tell me; just get it over with
so I can try to move on.”
Blaine laughs bitterly, hiccups through his tears sadly, “Try.I’m gonna try my
hardest but I won’t be able to, will I? You’ve fucking shattered me, Kurt. I’m
worthless without you.”
Kurt feels all the air rush out of his lungs, leaving him gasping.  He sucks in
a breath, then another one, tears falling down his face at a rapid pace. He
wants it to be not true – how can Blaine think so absolutely little of himself?
– but he looks at Blaine, pressed against the wall with his head fallen in
defeat, and he knows that Blaine has said words he actually believes.
“Blaine, no,” Kurt is crying even harder now, and he reaches up a hand to run
it across his face and through his hair. “No, no, no, no, no. Maybe you don’t
know it, or understand it, but I can never move on from you.”
Kurt looks down at his sockless toes, pushing them into the carpets. “I don’t
know what this is, Blaine, but it’s not something to walk away from. I don’t
want to leave you, Blaine, can’t you see you make me happy?”
Kurt tries to take Blaine by the hand again, feeling like he might die if
Blaine rejects him one more time, but thankfully Blaine only hesitates before
he slips his hand into Kurt’s grasp. Kurt pulls Blaine to him gently, not
wanting to startle him. Kurt doesn’t break eye contact as Blaine takes
tentative steps forward.
“And, sweetheart, the last thing you are, is worthless,” Kurt says it once
Blaine is finally tucked into his neck, still stiff and crying, but willing.
“If you don’t ever believe anything I say to you, ever again, believe this:
anyone who smiles like you do is not worthless. You deserve this whole world,
and I damn well intend to give it to you.”
---
Kurt makes strawberry pancakes for breakfast, at Blaine’s request. And he
dollops them each with a pound of whip cream, sprays some on Blaine’s nose just
to see him giggle. They eat in the living room, in front of the TV, plates on
their crossed legs and their knees knocking together.
They watch Say Yes To The Dressand commentate and speculate on the dresses
together (Things like “She’s so beautiful but that thing makes her look like a
building, Jesus,” and “If she doesn’t go with that one, I might have to
personally call her and help her out,” things that make them laugh out loud and
tickle each other in the sides in joy.)
But then they finish eating and Kurt knows that this has gone on long enough,
that they’ve been dancing around a subject they really shouldn’t for far too
long.
“Alright, Blaine,” Kurt takes their plates to the kitchen and deposits them in
the sink, planning to wash them later. He turns off the TV and sits back on the
couch, legs tucked underneath each other and facing Blaine.
“Come on Blaine,” Kurt says, laying a hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “You’ve gotta
work with me or we’ll get nowhere.”
Blaine inhales and exhales deeply, straightens his back and looks at Kurt with
tired eyes. Kurt offers his hand and Blaine takes it, making Kurt exhale in
relief at their palms pressed together.
“I’m – I’m going to do this, Blaine,” Kurt breathes in shakily, “We’re going to
do this. But I have to know you know that this is not going to be easy. It
never is.”
Blaine nods, not looking at Kurt, “Yeah, I know. But I…I really want this,
Kurt. I really want you.” He looks at Kurt then, gives him a small smile that
says Anything for you. That smile means everything to Kurt.
Kurt smiles back and squeezes Blaine’s hand gently, “I know.”
“But I still have a job to do, and I can’t let this get in the way of it. I
already told you, I’m a worrywart, I can’t be constantly on my toes because I’m
worried you’ve done something unsafe.” Kurt takes Blaine’s other hand and
places them both on top of the couch, underneath his.
“I – I adore and cherish you so much, Blaine. I can’t afford to lose you
because of something preventable – “
“But it’s really not, Kurt!” Blaine bursts out, eyes wide and trained on Kurt.
Kurt recognizes the fear and agony that he had thought had at least receded,
but nope, there it is, front and center.
“I don’t have anything, Kurt. Nobody cares – “
“I care – “
“And half the time it feels like you aren’t there, like you would rather not be
there! Because I came and fucked everything up and everything is now at risk
because of me and I just sometimes think…”
Kurt feels like he’s choking on air, “Don’t you dare say that, Blaine
Anderson.” Kurt leans forward, tries to capture Blaine’s eyes and relay the
message he swears he’ll spend all his life preaching.
“Look at me,” Kurt tilts his chin up, kisses at the tears there, still
clenching Blaine’s hands as he looks into his eyes. “Look at me. I’m sitting
right here, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, Blaine. For as long as I can, I
will be here, holding your hands,” Kurt brings them to his lips, kisses over
each knuckle meaningfully, “and doing everything I can to make you see just how
precious you are.”
Blaine smiles watery, leans in to kiss Kurt deeply, but Kurt can see, when he
pulls back that he’s heard his words, yet he hasn’t let them touch him like
they need to.
“Just – “ Kurt closes his eyes and licks across his lips tiredly. He takes a
hand away from their tangle and uses it to tug Blaine closer, kisses him with
everything in him, soaks up the moan of surprise that leaves him. Kurt pulls
back and tilts their foreheads together for a moment before pulling back, hand
still at the back of Blaine’s neck. “Just promise me you’ll stop with the
pills. It’s so dangerous, Blaine.”
“But – “
“I need your word, Blaine.”
Blaine opens his mouth, hopefully to agree, but Kurt cuts him off one more
time. “And if you break your word, I’ll have to punish you. You need to
understand that this is serious. What you’re doing is serious, and dangerous,
and I just can’t let it go on. So, if you take the pills for anything other
than their intended purpose I will punish you. Do you agree?”
After a moment Blaine nods with wide eyes, bringing his free hand up to his
forearm and rubbing over the scars there.
Kurt just sighs and tugs Blaine a little closer to kiss him again.
---
(“I love him, Dad. I didn’t even know it was possible to feel like this. And I
know it’s very, very wrong. But. I love him.”
“Hey, I know love, kid. And if you think what you’re feeling is the real deal
then…it’d be stupid for me to try and stop you, wouldn’t it? I know you, you’d
just do it anyways. Just make sure this is worth all you’re risking.”
“Thank you, dad. And…He is.”)
---
(“Join the Warblers.”
He says it one Sunday night; Blaine curled under his arm in bed after a scene.
Blaine tenses, just like Kurt expected he would, but Kurt hushes him.
“Please. At least think about it, for me.”
“Okay, Kurt.”)
---
Kurt kisses down the length Blaine’s forearms, making sure to kiss each scar he
comes across. Blaine just pants and twitches, trying to obey Kurt’s order of
keeping still.
Kurt lavishes each of his palms with attention, nuzzling into them
affectionately. “You’re doing so well, baby. Keep staying still.”
Blaine has been laid out underneath him for about thirty minutes now. They had
busted into Kurt’s door, lips attached and arching into each other after a long
day. Kurt had pressed Blaine back into his bed with determined hands, loving
how Blaine just went. They’d kept kissing, and Kurt let Blaine have free reign
to his body, hands everywhere and hips rutting up against Kurt’s.
And then Kurt had given him the order to slow down. And then Kurt had told him,
very quietly, to place his hands on the bed and keep them there.
Blaine had obeyed every order perfectly.
Now Kurt’s paying Blaine’s body the attention it deserves, lips and fingers
pressing everywhere.
He keeps kissing down Blaine’s chest, bypasses his hard cock and hooks his leg
over his shoulder, moves down to his calves. Kurt lavishes each cut and scar
with spit and love, listening to Blaine whimper and cry out above him. Kurt
does the same to the other leg before sitting up and petting Blaine’s hip.
“Turn over for me,” Kurt says it with a loving smile, appreciating the one he
gets in return. Blaine flips over, burying his face in the pillow for a moment
before settling more comfortably and keeping his body that way.
Kurt smiles and pets at Blaine’s ass before he starts kissing at his back.
Blaine groans at that too, still not moving his body. Kurt gets to his lower
back and pauses, knowing this place seems to be sensitive on Blaine.
He gets the response he was waiting for, strangled whimpers that leave his
mouth in a constant stream. Kurt smiles against the skin before he moves down a
little and sits up, setting his hands on Blaine’s cheeks and squeezing gently
before separating them.
Kurt lets out his own groan at the sight of Blaine’s dry hole, clenching and
unclenching with Blaine’s need. Kurt can’t help but press a dry thumb to his
rim, pressing even harder when it elicits a pleasant gasp from Blaine.
Kurt smiles, “You know,” he reaches over to grab the lube, keeping his voice
low. “One day, when we have a little more time, I’m going to bring you back
here, and do this same thing. I’m going to kiss every inch of your body, make
sure there’s not a piece of you that goes unnoticed. And then I’m going to turn
you over,” Kurt slicks up his hard cock, runs his hand up and down his length
gently for just a moment, “slick you up, and spread you on my fingers,” He
reaches down to Blaine’s cheeks and squirts some there too, chuckling when
Blaine gasps out in surprise. Kurt spread himself along Blaine’s back, nibbles
at his ear and whispers, “And then I’m going to fuck right into your tight ass,
and you’re going to scream for it, baby.”
“And I’m going to just keep fucking you,” Kurt moves his hips, feeling himself
slip in between Blaine’s slick cheeks in a crude imitation of the words he’s
saying. “I’m just going to fuck you harder and harder, just like you’ll ask me,
just like I know you’ll love it. And you’ll moan and groan and curse and praise
my name. One day. But for now, get yourself off and move with me, darling.”
Blaine does, grabbing his own erection and pushing back on his knees, panting
when it makes Kurt slide faster and faster. Kurt presses Blaine’s cheeks closed
around his cock, looks down to see them pseudo-connected, his slick length
dragging up and down from in between Blaine’s ass.
Blaine comes beneath him, crying out and clenching his eyes shut. Kurt follows,
come spurting up and over Blaine’s back and his chest from where they’re
pressed together.
Blaine sighing out gently, eyes fluttering closed in satisfaction, and Kurt
gets up to clean them off, wiping them off.
Blaine immediately cuddles into him when he finally lies down. Kurt massages
his scalp gently, breaking the rest of his hair free from the gel and grinning
when Blaine sighs in content. “You were perfect, sweetheart. Just like always.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
---
Just like Kurt suspected, Blaine lights up when people let him.
He joins the Warblers like Kurt had begged, and he, just like Kurt knew he
would, loves it. (No matter what they had said, you can’t beat a passion for
something out of someone. Not someone who’s passionate and talented, like
Blaine. Kurt wants to see those foul pieces of shit in ten years, when they’re
in jail for taking something too far and Blaine is lighting up Broadway left
and right.)
There are no more scary calls that make Kurt want to throw up from worry.
Things seem to be looking up.
---
“Kurt…Kurt, you need to get here…you need to see Burt…”
---
Kurt doesn’t know why he answered the fucking phone call in class. But his
students were working and it was Finn, and Finn very rarely called him,
especially when he knew Kurt was working.
He shouldn’t have picked up the phone.
(Yes he should have.)
---
“Boys, boys, I need your attention.”
“I’m going to the hospital. My father is terminal. I’ll get an administrator
down here as soon as possible. Just go on to the next section, and don’t forget
your binders are due Monday.”
Kurt doesn’t say goodbye, just flies out the door, their wishes of good luck
and well-being falling on an empty hallway.
---
The walk to Burt’s room is short and familiar, yet it feels just the opposite.
When he gets there, he notices the large number of people first.
Carole is standing outside the door, cocooned in Finn’s arms. “He’s asking for
you,” she sniffs.
Kurt nods and pauses outside the door. Everyone is looking at him, but all he
can do is think of one person, all he can do is think of Blaine.
Before he walks in, he texts Blaine that he needs him more than ever.
---
Kurt can tell that Blaine has rushed to get there when he finally arrives. His
gel is breaking lose and his uniform is skewed to hell, but it’s his worried,
frantic eyes that has Kurt breaking down, clutching his father’s hand and
ignoring him when Burt gruffly tells him to stop crying.
Blaine sits down next to him and pets at him, touches his arms and face and
hair, asking him how to comfort him. Kurt can’t respond, can’t say anything,
but Blaine just slides into his lap and presses his face into his neck like
usual, and that feeling alone, Blaine just beingthere, makes Kurt cry harder,
this time out of relief.
He squeezes his eyes shut and squeezes his father’s hand, tightens his hold
around Blaine and he’s going to lose one of these today.
He cries harder.
---
It takes awhile for him to pull it together, but Blaine and his father are
patient.
“I’m – I’m so sorry, dad,” he says, blows his nose on the tissues next to the
chair.
“Don’t be.”
Kurt smiles at his father, tears still falling but he’s no longer bawling. “I
love you so much, dad.”
“I love you too, kid. And I’m always gonna love you, alright? Don’t you ever
forget that.”
“Kurt?” Kurt looks down to see Blaine looking up at him with concerned eyes.
“Can I get you anything? What can I do to…? to help?”
To make it better?
Kurt grins at Blaine through his tears, sniffles and wipes at his face again.
“Some coffee would be great, sweetheart…and enough tissues to last.”
Blaine smiles and removes himself from Kurt’s lap. “How do you take your
coffee?”
“Two sugars. And no sugar for Burt.”
“Come on, Kurt. I can’t go out with a bang?”
Kurt doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
He tries both.
---
“I’m so sorry we had to meet like this, sir,” Blaine says when he gets back
from the cafeteria as he hands Burt his coffee. “But…I am truly honored to have
met the most important man in Kurt’s life. Your son is excellent, and you
should be so proud. I…I promise to take care of him, as best as I can. For as
long as I can...as long as he lets me.”
Burt looks at Kurt, raises his eyebrows and catches Kurt’s eye. They look at
each other for a moment, and Kurt reaches out to grab Blaine’s hand, raising an
identical eyebrow.
“Kurt’s my greatest accomplishment,” Burt finally says, looking at Blaine head
on. “And I’m glad to know…that when I leave this world, I won’t be leaving him
alone. That he’ll still be happy and have the love he needs. You make him
happy, Blaine. And I know you love him.”
Blaine blushes and looks to the floor, but nods anyways. Kurt would be shocked
by the confession, but he isn’t, because he knows the same thing Blaine knows.
“I love you too, B. More than just about anything.”
Blaine looks up and beams, tightening his hand around Kurt’s lovingly.
“Alright well. Enough of that stuff. Call everyone in. I want to be with my
friends and family.”
Kurt nods and stands up, hugs Blaine tight and cries again.
---
Burt Hummel dies, that night.
Kurt wakes up just before it happens, still curled up in the hospital chair.
Carole is already awake, and they both stand next to his bed and grip each of
his hands as he flatlines, his last breath of air leaving him in a puff.
Blaine is awake now too, and Kurt is grateful because it’s then that he turns
around and flings himself into his arms. Blaine is there to catch him.
---
Ohio is going to drive him stir crazy, he realizes two weeks later, pouring
over the same worksheets again and again.
With Burt gone, he suddenly feels tether-less and loose, like he’s floating
with his purpose fulfilled. And he thinks that now he could go back to New York
and resume his life, shelve his teaching degree for good. Rachel and his
friends would all welcome him with open arms, he knows it.
So what’s stopping him?
“Mr. Hummel,” He looks up to see Blaine standing in his door, smiling that
secret little smile and – Oh. Blaine is the only thing that makes this horrible
place bearable, the only thing that keeps Kurt from packing up his bags and
getting the hell out like he did the first time.
“Yes, Mr. Anderson?”
Blaine walks in and closes the door and Kurt is too tired to protest, knowing
that Blaine’s smart enough not to stay long. And he doesn’t, only setting down
a sticky note and retreating from the room, waving his fingers shyly.
I’ll be at your place after practice.
Kurt grins. Maybe he’ll just take a trip.
---
“How would you feel about New York, Blaine?” 
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     Music for this chapter: Cruel and Beautiful World by Grouplove, Be OK
     by Ingrid Michaelson, Brave by Sara Bareilles, Next To Me by Emeli
     Sande, Roll To Me by Del Amitri, Rhythm of Love by Plain White T’s
“My bedroom is the third room down the hall, to the right. I want you stripped
and on your knees, on the mattress,” Kurt pats Blaine’s ass with a brilliant
grin, shutting and locking the door to his apartment with a view.
Blaine goes willingly, like he always does, shucking his clothes as he looks
for the room and already panting in anticipation at what’s to come.
He’s in New York fucking city with the love of his life, things are already
starting off wonderfully. There are no overbearing parents or college plans to
make there’s just – this. Him and Kurt, being Kurt and Blaine with no
obligations and a burning love for each other. Here there’s no judgment, no
boundaries for them to keep within, it’s New York City; they can be whoever
they want.
He hears Kurt enter the room and then Kurt hooks a finger under his chin,
lifting his face to see his and Blaine’s breath catches at Kurt beautiful grin,
because this is it.
This is what he wants forever.
---
Blaine flops onto the mattress, grinning and sated, the loud, bustling sounds
of New York echoing in his ears like a mantra. Kurt follows him, spreading out
and kissing up and down Blaine’s neck lazily, whispering praises into the skin.
He wants to take everything he’s feeling – the hope, the delirious happiness,
the love – and pack it all into a bottle, so if he should ever feel horrible
and beaten down again he could just open that jar and let it wash over him, all
so he could remember how he felt right then.
He turns onto his side, hooks his leg over Kurt’s and tugs him closer by a foot
to his lower back. Kurt’s smile is huge and mischievous as he lets Blaine flip
them over so Blaine is straddling him, both of them still naked and fine with
it.
Blaine leans down, kisses Kurt for all he’s worth because he can, because the
sun is rising and he’s dizzy with his happiness. Kurt kisses back just as hard,
slides a hand into Blaine’s hair and tilts his head to get better access at his
mouth, licking around and exhaling hard.
Blaine runs his hands up and down Kurt’s chest as he pulls back gently, kneads
the hard muscle and bites at Kurt’s jaw, loving that he (and only he) can make
his breath hitch in that gorgeous way. He makes sure to leave a mark because
now he can, because everyone will know he put it there, that Kurt is his.
Kurt’s cock is gaining interest now, and Blaine grinds back against it, feeling
his still wet and slightly stretched hole clench.
“Blaine – “
Blaine shushes him, reaches back to grab Kurt’s cock with his hand and pump it
a few times. “Just – can I do this? Please?”
“Of course, baby, anything you want,” Kurt groans, bucking his hips up gently,
making Blaine tighten his thighs around him momentarily. Blaine licks his lips,
his throat suddenly feeling dry.
This is not Dom/sub, this is Kurt and Blaine and Blaine feels like soaring,
knowing that Kurt is not only in this for a good sub. Kurt wants him, loves
him, and everything else is just a generous perk.
“I want…I think I want to move to New York,” Blaine says, looking over his
right shoulder at the sight of the city. It’s magnificent, especially with the
sun rising and shining on them, casting a ring of what Blaine can only call
promise.
Kurt blinks up at him in surprise, squeezes his hips with his fingers.
“Oh…That’s... that’s amazing, Blaine!”
Blaine grins, kisses Kurt again and says against his mouth, with a grin, “I
also want to ride you.”
Kurt sighs heavily and threads his fingers through Blaine’s hair, smiling
gently, “Anything you want, Blaine.”
Blaine reaches over for the lube and wrinkles his nose, because it never feels
right when he does it. He presses it into Kurt’s hand instead, pouts his lips
and looks away. “I…I want you to finger me open…while I swallow down your
cock…” He trails off timidly, not expecting the throaty moan that escapes Kurt.
He looks up and Kurt pulls his face down to his again, bites over his lips and
sighs into his mouth excitedly.
“Fuck, Blaine,” Kurt says, and Blaine takes that as a yes, turning around on
Kurt’s chest, not wasting any time in mouthing around his cock. He moans when
Kurt slowly inserts a finger, then two, not having to go slow but still gentle.
Blaine slowly rotates his hips, pushing the fingers just a little deeper as he
takes more and more of Kurt down. He’s gotten pretty good at this, and the
feeling of Kurt’s cock in his mouth is so familiar and welcomed that he loses
himself in the sensations, just rocking back and forth on Kurt’s fingers that
are now brushing across his prostate, bobbing his head around.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Blaine,” suddenly the fingers are gone and Kurt is shifting
away from him, pulling Blaine’s head away from his cock.
Blaine sits up and turns around again, positioning his ass against Kurt’s cock,
feeling it slip in and out of his crack gently.
“If you want to ride me you’d – ah, you’d better do it now,” Kurt says,
breathing heavily and sweating down his neck. Blaine lifts up and guides Kurt’s
cock to his entrance before sinking down, his lips falling open at the feeling
of being stretched out again. He goes slowly and carefully, eases his way down
until Kurt has bottomed out and they’re flush together.
Blaine’s moan seems loud in the morning light, echoes throughout the room as he
starts moving up and down, hands grappling at the sheets.
“God, you feel so good, Kurt, so good inside me,” He looks down to see where
they’re joined together, Kurt slicked up and sliding out of him faster and
faster as Blaine speeds up.
“Yes, come on baby, ride me, you’re doing so good,” Kurt urges Blaine up and
down with the hands at his hips insistently and Blaine follows the direction,
rising up and dropping down determinedly.
Kurt brings a hand up to stroke Blaine off and it barely takes a couple of
tight-fisted pulls before Blaine is coming, streaks of come painting Kurt’s
chest and hand, Kurt following very soon after.
Blaine stops moving, rocks a little bit before pulling up and off, come
starting to run down his thighs already. He lies on his stomach next to a still
panting Kurt, lays his head on his collarbone and strokes across his side.
They lay like that for a while before Kurt starts moving. “I have to clean us
up,” he says, shifting away to walk to the bathroom and retrieve a washcloth.
His hands are hot on Blaine’s skin, but the washcloth is cool as it brushes
across his fluttering hole.
Blaine wraps himself around Kurt as he lies back down, and Kurt puts a hand in
his hair, massages the scalp gently like Blaine loves.
“I meant it, you know,” Blaine mutters against Kurt’s neck.
“Meant what, Blaine?” Kurt hums, and Blaine sits up and leans over Kurt with
nervous eyes.
“I want to move to New York…with you,” He looks away, to the windows again, and
back to Kurt, trying to piece his future together. “And I want to spend forever
here…with you.”
The kiss Kurt gives him is full of all the promise of the shining sun.
---
Once Blaine finally gets to see the city, he falls even more in love with it
than before, when all he had was pictures. It’s magnificent and grand, makes
him feel small and yet, just as grand at the same time.
Or maybe that’s just how Kurt makes him feel. Kurt, who takes him anywhere he
wants even though he doesn’t ask – Kurt, who doesn’t let go of his hand and
kisses him when he feels like it.
Yeah, it’s probably just Kurt.
---
He meets Rachel in much the same way as last time.
They’re on the couch watching TV together, warm and comfortable in their
pajamas as Kurt’s lasagna cooks. And then there’s frantic knocking on the door,
too many voices sounding through from the hallway, and Kurt rolls his eyes
before heaving himself up.
“What?” Blaine hears him hiss, and then there’s a chorus of excited “Kurt!”’s.
That’s when Blaine gets up, pausing the TV and peering around the corner to see
Kurt glaring at a group of people.
“We’ve come to take you out, you stuffy old man!” Rachel says, swaying on her
feet gently. “You’ve been cooped up in here ever since you got here! Boring!”
“I’ve been busy,” Kurt crosses his arms and leans against the door, but his
friends aren’t having that as they force their way inside.
“Oh, BS,” A girl Blaine doesn’t know says, brandishing some vodka proudly. “Now
go put on your sexiest jeans and -- !”
She notices Blaine then, wringing his hands in the doorway to the living room.
The chatter of the group dies down as all eyes turn to Blaine, and he brings a
hand up to wave shyly, polite smile in place.  
“Um, hello,” Blaine takes a step back when Rachel yells, “Oh my fucking god!”
“You’re still hanging around that kid? Kurt!” Rachel sounds utterly offended as
she squints and wrinkles her nose at Blaine distastefully.
“Do you honestly think I would just bring “some kid” to New York with me?” Kurt
says, exasperated as he shoulders through his friends and in front of Blaine.
“I’m so sorry, Blaine. They didn’t tell me they were coming,” Kurt says, laying
a hand on his waist protectively.
Blaine swallows, standing up on his tiptoes, and brushes his face against
Kurt’s neck gently before setting his chin on his shoulder, looking at the
group interestedly. They’re all mixed and matched as they split up, a lot of
colors and a lot of high heels, most all of them still eyeing Blaine but a few
wandering into Kurt’s house.
“It’s…it’s fine,” Blaine replies quietly. He doesn’t like how they’re staring
at him – like he’s so much younger or so much of a burden, and he has the urge
to prove them wrong. “You should…go.”
“Blaine, I don’t want to leave you alone,” Kurt says gently, his eyes skating
across Blaine’s face apprehensively. “This was supposed to be our time.”
“I’ll be fine, promise. And you’ll come back and I’ll be waiting for you, and
things will be fine,” Blaine grins and pulls back, slides a hand down Kurt’s
chest possessively.
Kurt looks at him for a moment, squeezing his waist periodically. Finally, he
nods, turning back to his friends. “Alright, I’ll go. Give me a couple of
minutes.”
Blaine follows him into the bedroom, ducking by the bright partygoers, eager to
get out of that room where he can feel all of their judgment.
He keeps telling himself – Kurt is his. They love each other, and one night is
not going to change that. They don’t need the approval of others, they have the
unconditional approval of each other, and that’s what matters.
But when he sits on the mattress they made love on just the night before and
watches Kurt slide into his skinniest, sexiest pair of jeans and a tight button
up shirt, he can’t help the sick feeling that settles into his stomach.
All of Kurt’s friends are older and sophisticated just like him, and they all
had the same question on the tip of their tongue: what was he doing with a kid
like Blaine?
Blaine himself wonders that sometimes.
He grimaces, flopping back onto the bed. He knows what they’re all going to say
to him tonight, knows that they’ll all try to convince him that he’s better off
without having to babysit everyday for the rest of his life.
And he knows Kurt won’t believe them, but maybe he should.
“I can hear you thinking over here,” Kurt says, and Blaine opens his eyes to
find Kurt coming out of the bathroom, a cloud of enticing cologne following
him. Blaine appraises his body one more time, tries to smile.
“You look great.”
Kurt hums, climbing onto the bed next to Blaine and swinging a leg over his hip
to sit comfortably on Blaine’s thighs, playing with the fabric of Blaine’s
shirt.
“Thank you,” Kurt says, smiling appreciatively before his face drops into a
frown, and he swallows. Neither of them wants to bring up the elephant in the
room, but Blaine knows Kurt knows it’s unavoidable. “I wish you could go with
me. My friends would love you…once they got to know you.”
And there it is. Blaine strokes his fingers on Kurt’s hips contemplatively.
Blaine brings a hand up to where Kurt’s still tapping at his collarbone
nervously and covers his hands with his own. He laces their fingers together
and brings them to their sides before surging up and kissing Kurt, cupping his
jaw. His hand goes to Kurt’s lower back to steady him as Blaine moves, and he
presses into Kurt harder, other hand moving to the back of his hair tightly.
He’s shaking a little bit, trying to tell Kurt too many things that can’t be
said, but Kurt just pulls back gently and separates their kiss, hand on
Blaine’s chest to stop him from pressing forward again.
“Cool off, honey,” Kurt says, and Blaine feels the underlying command
underneath his skin. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stay?”
Blaine closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Yes, I want you to stay – I
don’t ever want you to leave me. Please.
No. Go. Show them that I’m not what they assume I am.
Blaine settles, shaking his head. “No, go ahead. Um. Please get home safe,
alright? Come back to me, yeah?”
Kurt’s eyes sweep over his face, and Blaine averts his eyes, chewing at his
bottom lip. He hates it when Kurt does that thing with his eyes, that thing
where it’s as if Blaine’s laid bare underneath him, secrets and skin and all,
and Kurt can see it. That thing where he looks at Blaine as if he wants to fix
him, as if he was a thing to be broken but not because he’s broken, because
Kurt wants to see him happy.
The look like there’s no one else in this world who could love him more.
That look that is, in the end, just for him.
“I’ll always come back to you.”
Blaine just smiles.
---
That night, Blaine does something he hasn’t done in a long time.
He calls Tina, his best friend from McKinley.
He’s nervous. She could very well hate him by now, and all he’d be able to do
is just beg for forgiveness he knows he doesn’t deserve.
But for the first time in a long time, he craves a best friend -- someone to
confide in, to be that someone for somebody else. Maybe even go back to how
things were.
The last time he’d talked to or seen Tina’s smiling face was the day before the
attack, when they were talking and laughing about a song choice for Regionals.
Tina had always been there for him, and he feels like shit for just cutting her
off with no warning.
She must feel horrible, and Blaine made her feel like that. Blaine had always,
will always care for her but after something scary and life changing like that
happening, he just hadn’t wanted any human contact.
And sometimes the thought of stepping foot on a public campus again makes him
shake, but he craves human contact outside the little bubble he and Kurt have
built for themselves.
She picks up on the second ring, and Blaine hears nothing but her breathing. He
knew this wouldn’t be easy. And it shouldn’t be easy, but he’s glad she even
picked up.
“Um, hello? Tina, I know you’re there.”
He hears her exhale deeply across the line. “You have two minutes to explain to
me where the hell you’ve been for nearly a year, Blaine Anderson, and if I’m
not satisfied with the answer I will hang this phone up, so help me.”
Blaine smiles. “I’m so glad to hear your voice, Tina. And I’m going to explain
everything, right now.”
So he tells her. He leaves out the gory details but explains how horrible it
was for him to walk out of the school a little late and suddenly be shoved to
the ground, hateful words making their way to his ears, heavy feet making their
way to his body.
He tries not to cry. He’s cried so much this past year, he thinks he might be
dried up and out of remorse and self-pity. It’s over and he’s in a much better
place now, and it can only continue to get better, at least he hopes.
The same can’t be said for Tina, though. He can hear her sobs and gasps and
grunts of anger throughout the entire story, and somewhere inside of him he
thinks it’ll be alright if he’s still worth that much emotion.
“The doctor put me on bedrest and the whole thing was just kind of swept away…”
Across the line there’s a hard thump and Blaine winces, peering at his phone
curiously.
“What?”
“Really…it was better that way…I wanted it like this…”
“How can you say that, Blaine? Don’t you want those assholes to pay for that?”
“It’s Ohio, Tina…” Blaine says quietly, feeling his stomach grumble. He hasn’t
eaten since Kurt made lunch that afternoon, and their plans for dinner had been
thoroughly thwarted. Instead of potentially burning down Kurt’s kitchen he
decides to just heat something up, though he can’t wait for the day when they
can eat together every night.
“Ugh, I know,” Tina groans, “I can’t wait to get to New York.”
Blaine stops, a shovel of food halfway to his mouth. “No way.”
“Yeah…I applied for The Actor’s Studio yesterday. Hopefully I get in. Where are
you going?” Blaine can hear the frown in her voice and hopefully this brightens
her day a little.
“I’m actually uh. In New York. Right now.” Blaine can’t stop himself from
grinning, delighting in her squeak of surprise. “And I. I planned to go here
too.”
“Why are you in New York?!”
And this is it. “I’m actually, here with my, boyfriend.” Blaine winces as his
voice rises in pitch, tapping his fork against his plate nervously.
“Dammit, Blaine! This is why you can’t disappear for months at a time, we lose
touchand you do things like get a boyfriendwithout telling me. Details!”
How much should he tell her? How much can he tell her?
It’s not like Tina knows Kurt, and if she ever officially meets him, it’ll
definitely be after they’ve graduated. Blaine decides to indulge himself,
smiling as he gushes over Kurt.
This is amazing. He can’t really be completely honest and say all he needs to,
but to be able to sit on the couch with the phone to his ear and his best
friend on the line feels good and he had missed it. He can’t believe he gave
this up in order to make room for self-pity.
“He makes me so happy, Tina,” He sighs out, looking at the clock. It’s a little
after 3AM which means Kurt’s been gone for a little less than five hours.
“Why do you sound so sad, then?” Tina says curiously, and he knows if they were
near each other she would have patted his hand sweetly.
Blaine’s seen the movies – he knows that when you party, you party hard.
Especially since Kurt hasn’t been out in a long time. But he deserves it.
Blaine doesn’t expect Kurt to stand over him and watch him do his homework and
hold his hand as he walks across the street – he can occupy himself.
“It’s just. He’s out, with friends right now. Friends that…don’t really like
me,” Blaine took a deep breath. “I’m afraid of what they’ll say to him about
me.”
And, like he said, it feels good to stretch out on the couch and just chat to
his friend, but he can’t help the coil of worry that tightens in his stomach
for every minute that passes.
“Oh Blaine,” Tina says regretfully. “Look, from what you’ve told me about him –
he loves you a lot.”
Blaine smiles, because, yeah, he knows that.
“And if he loves you as much as we both know he does, he won’t let people that
don’t even know you get in the way of your relationship. Have a little faith.”
They don’tknow him. Kurt’s friends can say what they want, but at the end of
the day all they know is his age and if he knows anything – it’s that when life
throws shit at you, your age doesn’t matter.
And he’s been through some tough stuff. He’s strong now, and it’s kind of
because of Kurt. Even if he can’t really believe it sometimes, he knows all of
the wonderful things Kurt says about him are true. And that those things are
what make Kurt love him.
And none of those things are his age. He can’t believe that Kurt is in this
with him because he’s a young piece of ass – he probably has that being thrown
at him all the time. No, Kurt loves him because he’s beautiful,and bright.
He’s only eighteen, but Kurt can see passed his age and get to know him and
find those wonderful things about him, and bestow upon him the gift of his
love, in the end, if you’re loved and happy, what else matters? Certainly not
the approval of others, not those who aren’t even interested in trying to look
past the controversial and find the good.
“Okay, yeah…” He says, “So, what’s new with you? I want all the gossip.”
---
It’s nearing morning when Kurt gets home. Blaine’s nearly asleep when he hears
first the front, then the bedroom door open. Kurt slips into bed and wraps his
arms around Blaine from behind, smelling fresh and happy, like the crisp New
York air.
Blaine turns over and presses his face into Kurt’s shoulder, lays a tender kiss
there and closes his eyes to drift back to sleep.
---
Ohio is slow and restrictive, muddled and boring compared to New York City.
And Blaine knows that it’s always been slow and restrictive, but when he steps
off that plane from the brightest, most exuberant city in the world, he can’t
help but think that he won’t be here for very much longer.
---
Blaine doesn’t tell his parents where he’s applying. He won’t let their
disapproval hold him back, not this time. Kurt gets him the applications and he
fills each of them out at Kurt’s kitchen table, with Kurt always there in the
house to support him.
It’s when he does this that Blaine really feels like the luckiest guy in the
world. He somehow got, without Blaine even saying, that he needed him there,but
not right there, hovering and smothering. He somehow knew that all it takes is
a kiss to keep him from going utterly insane. And he knows when to push, when
not to push, all before Blaine even knows.
And yeah, Blaine gets worried. He gets really worried about a lot of things
(what if my parents don’t let me go what if Kurt doesn’t want me anymore what
if what if what if) but for once he manages to push back uncalled for worries
and focuses on himself and his needs and Kurt, Kurt who’s singing from the
bathroom as he cleans.
---
“Come watch us practice…please?”
Blaine is reluctant, of course he is. The thought of McKinley High makes his
skin ache, too many memories stirring awake at just the thought of the tan
colored lockers and crowded hallways.
But he misses his friends. And they apparently miss him too, because once word
gets out that Blaine is no longer MIA he suddenly has call after call, friend
after friend demanding his presence and the feeling of being missed is actually
a wonderful one. To know that someone cares enough to cry tears of joy when
they find out he’s okay (Marley) or to threaten him with friendly bodily harm
if he ever disappears like that again (Kitty) or ask him if he got the latest
Black Ops because it’s badass,man (Sam and Jake and Ryder).
That anyone cares at all is a great feeling.
Besides, the worst has already been done. He thinks that he can take on the
world now, especially with Kurt by his side, solid and caring and loving.
And it’s with that resolve that he finds himself walking through the doors to
the auditorium, laughing and covering his ears when choruses of ungodly shrieks
explode and echo as his presence becomes known.
The hugs and kisses he receives are warm and welcoming, just like a home coming
should be. He can’t really answer all of their questions but plenty of them
don’t even require an answer, just excited yells and exclamation marks.
When it all finally dies down and all the tears are gone, they sit him down in
the first row of the auditorium and sing to him in true New Directions style.
(“Go ahead and close the door. I’ll stand outside in the rain.; A little bird
just told me. So, it’s time to start over again.; So I’ll man up and take this
boat, far away from these shores, and I’ll reach behind an enemy light, and
find my terrible cure.” Lyrics that make him tear up a little and crack up at
the irony of the band they choose, lyrics that make him happy because he thinks
that his friends still really know him, even when they should’ve forgotten him.
Even when he maybe deserved to be forgotten.)
It’s fun and it’s wonderful and seeing your friends can never be bad for the
heart, can it?
It comes to a heavyhearted end too early when he gets a text from Kurt saying
he’s outside, and Blaine kind of regrets telling him such an early time, but
how was he supposed to know it would be so easy to fall back into place?
He stands up and shoulders his bag, sighs out, “I have to go guys…My ride’s
here, and I don’t want to keep him waiting.”
Tina gasps from where she’s still sitting, clutching his hand tightly with wide
eyes. “Is it your boyfriend? Is it Kurt? Is he here? Let me meet him!”
The room is in agreement and then suddenly he’s being moved out of the
classroom in a wave, a constant stream of chattering around him as they shuffle
him to the parking lot.
It all comes to a halt though, when a voice yells out, jeering, laced with a
teasing malice Blaine knows well, “Oh, look, Anderson’s back in town. Thought
Joshua ran you out, huh? Didn’t do a good enough job, knocking the fucking fag
– “
Blaine is choking, the words hitting him with a magnificent force, making him
sway on his feet. It’s not one of the people who hurt him, but the taunts might
as well be coming from the same face, the same body, the hits might as well be
from the same fists, the hate might as well be the same, and he’s falling, his
knees buckling and his body sagging back into the arms of Sam who gasps
worriedly.
He practices deep breaths as his friends start yelling around him, and the boy
just spews out more hateful horrible things and Blaine squeezes his eyes shut
and clenches his fists.
You’ll be alright, you’ll be alright, he tells himself, and it’s almost working
when he hears a forceful, “Hey!”
The voice sounds like a blessing, right then. He opens his eyes to see Kurt
striding towards them purposefully; his face set in anger and Blaine thinks, Oh
no.
“I don’t know what you think you are, but I suggest – “ Kurt says darkly, not
raising his voice but not letting his eyes leave the jock who looks like he’s
about to back down.
“Kurt,” His voice is weak, he knows, and Kurt doesn’t hear him, or maybe he
does and chooses to ignore him. Both options sting a little bit.
“I suggest you scrape your dignity of the floor and get away from Blaine and
his friends before I find myself tearing this damn school apart –“
“Kurt!” He tries to say it a little louder now but his throat is dry and it’s
just a strangled croak now. Sam rubs his back gently, and Blaine shrugs it off,
hating how helpless he feels. He can’t even take a couple of taunts without
breaking down, how pathetic. And he’d thought he was getting better. Bullshit.
“ -- and make sure you spend time in juvie with your scumbag friends.” Kurt
finishes, his arms tense where they’re crossed across his chest, stance
defensive.
The jock scoffs. “Whatever. All these fucking faggots, man.” He says it as he’s
hurrying past Kurt and Kurt can’t do much but scowl at him as he gets out of
there.
Blaine watches Kurt pinch the bridge of his nose. He mouths out one through ten
with patience, and Blaine puts a hand on his back when he’s at five.
Kurt looks up at ten and frowns, pulls him close and leans down to whisper so
his friends don’t hear. “Are you okay? What do you need? Can I give you
anything? Anything at all.” Blaine feels a hand run down his back and to the
sensitive lower area of his back, resting there possessively, pressing him a
bit closer.  
Blaine shakes his head and squeezes Kurt’s shoulder. “You didn’t have to do
that.” He says, whispering. He knows that all of his friends are still there,
eyes glued to him and Kurt as they share their moment and Blaine wishes he
could shake them off. This is for him and Kurt only.
“Yes, I did, Blaine,” Kurt says, brushing at Blaine’s shoulder blades with his
other wandering hand.
“No, you really didn’t,” Blaine says, frowning and pulling back. Why doesn’t
anyone ever listen to him? “I can handle myself.”
“When I walked in you were about to faint, Blaine. I need to take care of you.”
“I was going to be fine, and I don’t need you watching over me like some type
of watch dog. I have enough policing at home; I don’t need it from my boyfriend
too. And you shouldn’t have to take care of me. Shouldn’t even want to.” Blaine
huffs out, crossing his arms insecurely. As soon as the words leave his mouth,
he knows how this is going to end and he thinks that, right now he craves it.
Craves being able to give himself over, knows that he’ll feel better in the
end.
He looks up to see Kurt’s eyes dark, his jaw clenched tight. He nods slowly,
brings the hand around from his back and to his hand, tugs him along with
determination.
Blaine looks over his shoulder and waves, tries to smile. “You guys can call me
tomorrow. We’ll go bowling!”
They try to smile too, wiggling their fingers in reply.
--
“Why am I punishing you, Blaine?”
They had gotten home and Kurt had immediately demanded he strip and kneel for
him on the bed. Kurt had then cuffed his hands to the bedposts gently, kissed
his wrists wrapped in the soft leather and then disappeared into his closet for
a moment, leaving Blaine shivering in anticipation on his knees.
“Because I talked back to you, Sir,” Blaine says, and winces at the cold touch
of Kurt’s fingers, kneading and pulling at his ass.
“Why am I punishing you, Blaine?”
“Because I questioned your authority, Sir.”
“Stop avoiding my question, Blaine. While those are reasons, yes, why am I
really punishing you? Be honest this time, or it’ll be worse than what I’m
already planning.”
“Because…because I doubted you.”
“Doubted what?”
“Doubted your will to care for me, doubted your status as a Dominant, doubted
you, doubted your position in this relationship, doubted you, doubted us. I’m
so sorry, Sir. So sorry.” Blaine pants, fingers clenching and unclenching. Kurt
slides up his body and around to his front, settling his cock directly in front
of Blaine’s lips with Blaine’s hands caught on either side of his waist. At
this angle Blaine’s ass is perched delicately in the air, and Kurt rubs at a
cheek again.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, sweetheart: I’m going to paddle you, twenty-
five times as you take me deep into your throat. I know you can take them all.
You don’t have to count, and you’re going to go at the pace I set. Focus on me,
focus on who is right here in front of you and so in love with you. Focus on
who’s paddling your sweet ass, focus on who can make you burn, Blaine. Focus on
who owns you.”
Blaine nods, and then Kurt is sinking a hand into his curls, fingers wrapping
at the base and guiding his lips down to his cock. Blaine opens his mouth
immediately, and closes his eyes as Kurt guides him.
Blaine loses himself in it, swirling his tongue in the places he has learned
does it for Kurt. The first hit is unexpected and barely there, just a pat that
makes Blaine twitch in surprise.  The next three are harder, moving up and down
on the same cheek. Kurt lands another one on his crack, and then another and
another. Blaine is gasping through his nose with each hit, nearly choking when
Kurt drops two hard ones at the top of his ass, grazing the sensitive area of
his back.
Kurt stops after ten and massages at Blaine’s cheeks and thighs, murmuring in
his ear. “You’re doing well, Blaine. Very well. Fifteen more to go. You can do
it.”
The paddling resumes and Blaine sucks hard at Kurt’s cock, letting Kurt buck
into his mouth as he lands hits to the fragile skin of his cuts on his thighs.
Blaine jerks, feeling utterly dominated. Kurt doesn’t stay in one place for
long, rotating all over Blaine’s thighs and butt cheeks, even letting some
gently hit the low, sensitive arch of his back.
Blaine feels absolute euphoria washing over him. The need to come was just
getting to unbearable but the pain is pushed back in order to make room for
this safe feeling that encases him. He does feel safe, and he also feels loved,
trapped between Kurt’s legs and getting his ass paddled. He’s in strong hands,
Kurt’s hands, hands that are wrecking and rebuilding his body from scratch, all
at the same time. Blaine’s ass is burning and aching, but Kurt stops at twenty
and soothes him again, whispering gasping words of praise in his ear again.
“Only five more to go, beautiful. You’ve been taking everything so well, you’re
almost done.”
The next five are scattered and hard, making Blaine yell, a wretched, gargled
noise around Kurt’s cock with each one.
Kurt drops the paddle and starts fucking into Blaine’s mouth harder, reaching
his orgasm quickly. Kurt pants, massaging Blaine’s scalp gently. He unlocks the
handcuffs and Blaine slumps to the bed, making sure to stay on his front. Kurt
comes back to find Blaine clenching the sheets, restraining against working his
hips to the bed.
“Please, Sir, please, can I come now? Please.”
Kurt chuckles and says, “Back up to your knees, for just a little. I’m going to
get you off, baby.”
Blaine obeys, drawing up energy to raise himself to his knees with his face
still pressed to the pillows.
“God, look at you,” Kurt says, uncapping the bruising cream. “You make such a
gorgeous sight, darling. Ass up in the air, begging me to take care of you, in
all the ways I know you love. All the ways I know you need.”
Blaine mumbles, tries to say, “Thank you Sir,” but then Kurt is rubbing the
cream to his ass, and, yeah, that feels amazing. Blaine groans, pushing against
the gentle hands as Kurt brings one down beneath Blaine to wrap around his
cock.
“Come whenever you want, darling,” Kurt says, using a hand to massage some
cream into Blaine’s lower back. “You did so well for me, all is forgiven, now.
All is forgiven.”
Blaine comes then, crying out into the pillows and then slumping to the
bedspread, his come cooling underneath him. Kurt grimaces, tugging the sheet
from beneath Blaine and wiping him off before sliding in next to him gently,
trying to not jostle his legs.
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“All is forgiven, darling.”
---
Blaine wakes up to the smell of strawberry pancakes again, and the nostalgia is
nearly overwhelming. He slides on a pair of boxers and finds Kurt setting the
plates on the kitchen island, where the stools are.
Blaine smiles and reaches up to kiss Kurt when he’s close enough. He feels
good, even if his ass is sore and the words from that jock maybe still plays on
loop in his mind. But they aren’t really affecting him anymore, and he has Kurt
to thank for that. He kisses Kurt passionately -- pressing him against the
counter as he devours Kurt’s mouth, loving the way Kurt smiles and threads his
fingers through his hair.
“So you’re feeling well, then? Last night was okay?” Kurt says when they break
the kiss, hands at Blaine’s waist and resting there like they belong there.
“Just what I needed,” Blaine smiles.
---
Blaine doesn’t spend a lot of time at home now, and when he does he definitely
doesn’t spend too long chatting with his parents. They don’t talk about his
college plans and Blaine assumes it’s because his parents assume heapplies to
Columbus, and the thought makes Blaine sick.
He’s going to figure out a way to tell them, has to figure out a way to break
his mother’s heart and disappoint his father again.
But it’s a surprise when he comes home from Dalton one day, toes off his shoes
and walks into his kitchen to see his mother sitting there, staring at a rather
large envelope in her hand, tears falling down her cheeks.
Blaine hesitates. “Mom?”
She looks up, smoothes back her hair. She smiles shakily, reaches out a hand
for Blaine. “Hey sweetie,” She pulls him close as he says it, wraps an arm
around his shoulders when he sits down. He can smell her perfume, and he lets
himself inhale, let’s himself breathe in the motherly scent he hasn’t had the
pleasure of smelling in a long time.
“This, um. This came in the mail for you, today,” She looks up, her eyes red-
rimmed and Blaine thinks that they’ve never looked more alike. He has her curly
hair, has her hazel eyes and cheekbones. His mother is beautiful and he loves
his mom, and he hates to think that he might never see her again.
“It’s pretty large…from a college in New York, Blaine,” She says, her voice
shaking as she squeezes Blaine’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry mom,” Blaine whispers, can’t even feel joy at the fact that he
probably got into his dream school of NYADA. Because he won’t have a mom pretty
soon.
But then again, he hasn’t really had a mom in a long time, has he?
“No, really, it’s fine,” She looks away, shakes her head. “It scares me to see
you go.”
She looks back at him, rubs up and down his shoulder. “You’re my baby, Blaine.
And you’ve been so hurt…” Her eyes are conveying a deep sincerity, and Blaine
thinks that he must get his prone-to-be-heartbroken-gene from her.
“Ohio won’t help me, mom…staying here can only make things worse for me. For
us,” He says it because it’s ultimately true – ultimately, he is the reason his
family is in pieces, and he is the only obstacle to his mother being happy with
his father.
“But I could protect you here…”
That’s when Blaine stands up, grips that envelope tight in his fingers as he
says, tears in his eyes and a scar or two closing up, “You couldn’t before.
It’s time for me to maybe protect myself. Maybe be happy.”
He trots upstairs, ignores her muffled crying. She’ll get over it, she always
does. She has his father, and he may come back and visit.
Blaine bounces on his bed, biting his lip nervously. He tears open the letter
and sees, in all his glory, “Mr. Blaine Anderson, we are pleased to announce
that you’ve been accepted…” The information for the flutters out between his
fingers, falls to his bed around his legs, large letters like, “Getting
Started” and “We can’t wait to see you in the Fall.”
Blaine can barely dial the phone and choke out to the one person who makes him
feel so loved he can’t breathe with it, “I got in,” – that’s how happy he
finally feels.
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