Word Count: ~27,000
Warnings/kinks: D/s ‘Verse, mentions of dub-con, slut shaming, mentions of dub-con bloodplay (not depicted), spanking, barebacking
Beta: i_should_study (thank you SO much for all you’ve done, you’re wonderful)
Summary: Fill for this GKM prompt. Kurt’s a Dom who never wanted a sub. Blaine’s a sub who’s never been wanted. This is a story about finding the things you need in the place you least expect them.
The subhouse in the center of Lima always had a very distinctive smell. It was almost clinical, like a hospital, saturated with disinfectants and bleach. And yet, it had this unique undercurrent, a just barely there hint of leather and sex and sweat, something that could only belong in a place like this.
The smell had made Blaine nervous the first time he had been brought there, 13 years old and unclaimed, already in the throws of his first Sickness.
(“Your body’s shutting down,” his mother explained, brushing the hair back off his sweat drenched forehead. “Subs like us, we’re born with bodies that don’t create the right hormones on their own. You need to be dominated, Blaine, or you’re going to get very sick.)
It had been a long time since the subhouse had been anything but familiar to him. Blaine hated having to come here, hated that it was a constant reminder that he was unwanted. Unwanted and getting older every day. When he was younger he’d try to fight the Sickness. He’d put off coming in until he was too weak to walk, too weak to do anything but lay there and take it.
He couldn’t help that his body craved it, though. His body loved being taken and owned and made to give in. It felt so good physically, to be taken care of, and occasionally he’d get this feeling. Someone (never could see their faces, always blindfolded so he couldn’t want them, because who would want a whore like him?) would comb their fingers through his hair after dragging him around by it, or kiss him tenderly after fucking his mouth, and Blaine would think, just for a minute, that maybe he might look forward to this in another life.
But he didn’t have another life. He only had the one he’d been born with, and unfortunately that one had lead to him being a 16 year old unclaimed sub who had to rely on strangers to keep his body from shutting down. Three days a week, Blaine would walk from his bus stop to the Lima Submissive Care House, check his bag at the front desk, walk into a room in the back, take off all his clothes and get down on his knees. Someone from the House would come in shortly after, to collect his clothes and make sure he was properly blindfolded, and leave him there to wait until someone showed up who wanted him.
Which was where he was now. Naked, kneeling on a cold cement floor, with nothing to do but wait.
(It was easier this way, if he was ready when they came in. If he was down on his knees, they’d just get it over with. No time spent drawing it out, making him beg for cock like the little slut he was.)
The air in the subhouse always started pushing in on him after a while, cloying and clinical, it always made him squirm. The first couple times he’d panicked and taken the blindfold off, only to be punished for breaking the rules of the house.
(Submissives do not see those who dominated them, their contract is with the house, not the individual Dominates. Submissives do not appear clothed in front of Dominates. Submissives do not…)
He’d long since become accustomed to it. The waiting was still hard though. Just getting naked and blindfolded wasn’t enough to put him under, though it seemed to be enough for some subs. Without the safety of subspace, which most other subs seemed to slip into easily, he was left fully aware but cut off. Nothing about this was easy for Blaine.
It was probably the reason nobody wanted him.
The scratching of the door opening brought him out of his thoughts. His natural inclination was to tilt his head up, as if he were looking for the person entering the room. Experience, though, had taught him that most Doms didn’t approve of this. If he wasn’t under, he should at least pretend that he was. Kneel there, head tilted to the floor, passively take whatever they gave him, and let his body get what it needed.
That was submission to Blaine. That’s all he saw his personal life ever being. After all, who wanted a sub that had been passed around for 3 years?
“Hello, pretty boy,” said a smooth voice from the doorway. Ah, yes. A regular then. A man who liked Blaine on his knees enough to keep coming back for him, but not enough to claim him (get him out of there, take him somewhere where all of this might seem safe.)
“Hello, Sir,” Blaine said quietly, and he heard the snick of a zipper being lowered. Blaine tried not to sigh. Another day, another blowjob.
What else could be expected for a whore like him?
Even 10 years away could not make Lima, Ohio seem more appealing that it had as a high school senior. Kurt Hummel sat behind the wheel of a rental car, surveying his old home town as he drove down the main street.
Lima hadn’t changed much. The shops lining the streets were the same, Between The Sheets and Breadstix and a little boutique that had always been laughably provincial in it’s fashion offerings. No, Kurt Hummel did not miss Lima one bit.
He did miss his family though, which was what brought him away from the shining lights of New York City. His father and stepmother would be celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary this month. Overwhelmed and overworked, Kurt had agreed to take a month or two off to reconnect with his family and just relax for a bit.
Still, Kurt couldn’t help but be a bit nervous. He knew he shouldn’t be. Life hadn’t panned out the way he’d expected it to in high school, but he knew that was often the case. Kurt’s independent costume design company, started with a few college friends, had recently begun to expand beyond the word of Broadway. What had once been a simple stage costume supplier had grown into an enterprise reaching into the world of celebrity fashion and spanning the entire country. He was successful, by most people’s measures of success.
And yet… Kurt couldn’t help feeling unsettled. It was part of what had driven him into taking this vacation in the first place. There was an itch under his skin that he couldn’t seem to get rid of, no matter how hard he worked, how far he pushed his company. He felt like he was constantly missing something.
Of course, Kurt knew what his family would say. They’d tell him it was because he hadn’t taken a sub yet. It was what everyone told him. His coworkers, his friends in New York, clients who really had no right to comment on his personal life, none of them could understand why he was unattached.
Kurt sighed, tipping his head back against the seat of the rental car, clear blue eyes taking in the Lima subhouse as he drove by it on his way to Hummel Tires & Lube. It wasn’t as if his body didn’t have needs - it did. Typically, though, he satisfied them at sub care facilities like the one he’d just passed.
The idea of actually claiming a sub, taking on someone full time, just didn’t seem to fit into his lifestyle. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the appeal. He did. Every time he walked into a white sterile room to find some pretty boy waiting for him, it ached a bit in Kurt’s chest. There was an instinct in him to protect and treasure and love someone, just like there was in all doms.
But he couldn’t. He was too busy, had too much on his plate right now, to become responsible for another person. From what he understood, a large majority of subs were very needy, and Kurt… as much as he wanted to be needed, he didn’t have a lot of himself to give at the moment.
So Kurt frequented sub care facilities when he could, giving what he could of himself when he could. It wasn’t like he wasn’t aware that most people considered care facilities little better than whore house, preferring to get connivent out-of-claim sex at one of the many clubs scatter around New York City.
To Kurt, those clubs always seemed much seeder than the Houses. Houses served subs who didn’t have other options, who needed to be dominated to stave off Sickness. Somehow, he’d always thought that if he was going to be forced by his biology to have meaningless sex, he could at least use it to help people.
Not many people understood that viewpoint, though. Somehow, he suspected his family wouldn’t either. Kurt knew his father worried. (‘Your life would be so much easier, if you just got a sub, Kurt. You’d have someone to share your problems with.’ He’d responded by saying if he needed someone to pick up his messes for him he’d hire a maid.)
Hopefully this visit would convince his family he was fine. He was just tired, over worked, the itch would go away if he just decompressed for a while. He didn’t need to take on a sub to be functional.
He pulled his rental car up to Hummel Tires & Lube, a smile growing on his face as he took in the familiar facade. He’d grown up in this store, as a toddler waddling around tripping up mechanics, a kid doing homework on the sidelines, a teenager flipping through copies of Vogue in the managers office. It was like a second home to him.
A blast of humidity hit him when he opened the door of the rental, and he wrinkled his nose in distaste. It was unseasonably warm for April, he thought. Or perhaps he’d forgotten the weather patterns of Ohio. It had been quite a while since he was here.
One of the mechanics, a guy named Bill who was one of the few who’d been with the shop since Kurt was a boy, grinned at him as he walked in. “Burt’s in the back,” he said in lieu of a greeting, and Kurt smiled in response.
The smile grew on his face as he caught sight of his father sitting behind his desk. Politics had aged Burt Hummel, and he looked older than Kurt thought he really should. A stab of guilt struct Kurt in the stomach. Except for their yearly Christmas trip to New York, Kurt didn’t see his father and stepmother all that much. He called his dad regularly, and had even taught him to work Skype, but it just wasn’t the same. Maybe his father wasn’t the only one who worried.
“I thought you were supposed to be cutting back the hours you spent here,” Kurt called out. He smiled as his father looked up, a matching grin spreading across Burt’s face.
“It’s hard to trust other people with your business. You know that,” Burt responded, raising his eyebrow in a pointed manner. Kurt accepted the joke for what it was, and nodded in agreement.
“But I did it,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, you did.” His father stood, holding his arms open. “Come give your old man a hug.”
Gratefully, Kurt let himself be folded into his father’s arms. “I’ve missed you, dad.”
“I’ve missed you too, kid.” Burt’s voice was gruff, the way it got when he was feeling emotional, and Kurt felt the familiar prickles of tears in his own eyes.
“I’m not a kid anymore,” he muttered, wiping his eyes as he pulled back.
Burt squeezed his shoulder, and drew back. “You’ll always be a kid to me.”
Burt smiled at him, and Kurt felt the knot in his chest loosen a little bit. He knew the sub conversation would come up later, it always did. But for now, he was happy to bask in the feeling of being with family.
Blaine’s balls ached.
Lots of him ached, actually (knees, jaw, shoulders, lips), but his balls hurt worst of all. He didn’t know how long he’d been like this, flat on his back with a toy in his ass and a cruel, tight ring around his cock. It had been a while. Long enough for whoever was playing with him today to come once already, and get hard again.
He’d zoned out for a while as the stranger fucked his throat, lost in the repetitiveness of it, the easy act of submitting like this. It might be nice, he thought dully as he tried not to gag on the cock in his mouth, he might like this if it was with someone who cared about him. Someone who made him feel safe.
“Yeah, good little slut, you take it, just take it,” groaned a husky voice above him, and Blaine sighed internally. The men who frequented this house weren’t exactly creative in their domination. “Filthy fucking whore.”
Blaine didn’t even wince anymore. It’s what he was, after all. He just tipped his head back, opening his throat more so maybe the guy would come, then Blaine could come, and then it could all be over. Oh, god, Blaine needed to come. He ached so badly, he’d held off for so long, he’d been so good… but there were no rewards here. The reward was coming and being able to leave. It didn’t matter if he was good, it just meant he got hit less. Sometimes, anyway. God, he needed to come.
“Yeah, hot little bitch like you, gagging for it. I’m gonna fill you up.” Blaine tuned him out, willing himself out of his body, trying to be a good sub and just go under then maybe this would work right. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so ashamed.
He was brought back to himself by the bitter flood of semen across his tongue, down his throat. It took all his concentration not to choke on it, letting the man pull out before the coughing struck.
The other man was too worn out to do much for Blaine other than untie Blaine, pull off the cockring and give him a sloppy handjob. Blaine wasn’t surprised. The kinds of guys who came to subhouses weren’t usually the kind who prioritized the pleasure of their subs. They couldn’t be outwardly violent, outside of a consensual scene, but there were no laws forcing them to give a fuck. Usually they didn’t.
At least this one didn’t seem to feel like making him beg. He’d been so on edge for so long, his body getting what it needed even if his brain hated it, that it didn’t take much to push him over the edge. He came as silently as he could, biting his lip to keep in the sound. By the time he came down, the other man was gone.
Blaine cleaned himself up as quickly as possible, hating the atmosphere of the subhouse even more now that the deed was done. The black blindfold that had previously been covering his eyes got draped over the bed, waiting for a worker from the house to come get it for cleaning. He left as quickly as he could.
Much to his surprise, Blaine recognized a black sports car idling in front of the subhouse as he walked out. Momentarily confused, Blaine side-eyed the car, relaxing a bit once he saw the driver remained sitting in the car.
Grinning a bit, Blaine walked over to the car, rapping his knuckles on the glass. “Hi, Coop.”
Blaine’s brother grinned back at him from inside the car, unlocking the door so Blaine could open it and slide in. “What are you doing here?”
Cooper shrugged. “Picking you up. I thought we could grab dinner.” Blaine figured. Cooper had yet to claim a sub permanently, but he preferred to do his looking at the 18+ singles clubs in the LA area. He was never a subhouse kind of guy.
“I meant what are you doing in Ohio,” Blaine asked, rolling his eyes at his brother. They were talking more now, it was true, but Cooper still had his life in LA, and Blaine hadn’t been expecting to see him until Christmas at least.
“Can’t I come see my baby brother?” Cooper asked innocently. Blaine just looked at him. “Fine, alright, I’m just passing through town on my way to New York. I’ve got a TV audition there!”
Blaine smiled a little, letting Cooper’s voice sooth him as they pulled away from the sub house. Cooper hadn’t said anything about the house, and Blaine was grateful. His brother had never made Blaine feel bad for being a sub, too aware that their father would do more that enough of that.
(“Anderson men are not submissive,” he’d yelled, and Blaine had quaked, too weak still from the Sickness. This wasn’t something he could fix.)
“Are you okay, though, really Blaine?”
Cooper’s voice drew him back into the moment, and he looked over at his brother, knowing he’d missed part of the conversation. “I’m fine,” he said, the standard answer.
“You don’t look fine. You look all… I don’t know Blaine, but you don’t look fine.”
Blaine shrugged, dismissive. “Just lonely, I guess.”
He dreamed sometimes about finding a Dom. He would be someone strong but kind, powerful but full of care, someone who could hold him and take care of him and make him go under like he knew he should. He couldn’t help but dream. It was all pretty abstract, he was too pragmatic to get lost in a vivid fantasy. Mostly, he just wanted someone to want him, unlikely as it was.
“There’s someone out there for you, squirt,” Cooper reassured, reaching a hand out to rest on Blaine’s shoulder. “You’ll find him someday.”
Blaine kept quiet. It wasn’t worth correcting Cooper. Blaine was glad that Cooper saw him as a normal kid, but he was dirty, and he knew the chances of someone wanting him: they were small indeed.
The sub conversation did come up later. They made it through a whole day, which was honestly more than Kurt had hoped for. He understood, of course he did, they were just worried about him. They wanted him to have a good, fulfilling life.
They didn’t want him to be alone.
He had to admit, as he watched his father and stepmother, Finn and his wife, that he could understand the appeal. The idea of having someone there for him, to support him through everything, it was a nice thought. But Kurt was a Dom. He needed to have the time and energy to care for a Sub, someone who would rely entirely on him. He just didn’t have room for that in his life.
That’s what he tried to explain to his father at least, as they sat eating breakfast together on Kurt’s second day there. Kurt knew his dad didn’t understand. He’d raised Kurt for years without a sub, but when he’d met Carole, there really was no force on earth that would have stopped him from claiming her.
And Kurt could see how happy it made him. A small part of Kurt did ache for that happiness. A bigger part knew it just wasn’t possible.
“Ahh, that’s just because you haven’t met the right person yet,” his father said with a sly smile, and Kurt rolled his eyes affectionately.
“What, someday I’m going to meet someone, and I just won’t be able to stop myself from claiming them?”
“No.” The smile slid off his father’s face, serious now. “Someday you’re going to meet someone and suddenly there will be no reason at all you don’t want to claim them.”
But honestly, that was part of what Kurt was afraid of. He looked down at his hands. “Dad, I’m almost 30. I devote all my time to running a business, I hardly even sleep. What have I got to give a Sub? What kind of life can I offer them, when my life is so full already.”
“You’ve got yourself to give, Kurt. That’s not nothing. There’s a whole lot of love in you.”
It reminded Kurt of being in high school, of ‘you matter’ speeches and not believing he had it in him to be a Dom. Maybe he hadn’t changed as much as he’d like to think.
“You’ll meet him someday, Kurt. And there won’t be a reason in the world that matters enough to keep him from you.”
Until then, of course, Kurt’s body still had needs. He could feel the edginess building inside him, snappish and unpleasant. There was no point letting it build, so after seeing his father off to work he made his way over to the Lima Area Subhouse. He wouldn’t be able to play today, he knew that, but he could start the paperwork. He was already on file, if 10 years out of date, so all they would need was a blood screening and background check. Might as well get the ball rolling.
Two days later he heard back from the subhouse. By that time the ache under his skin had built to a burn, a driving need to control everything, snappish and unpleasant.
Walking into the House was some weird kind of deja vu. It wasn’t all that different than it had been when he was in high school, a young Dom with no real prospects on the horizon. He smiled at the girl working behind the counter as he handed over his ID. She was younger than him but not young, with blue streaks through blonde hair and a nose ring. She smiled back, stiff but pleasant, and asked “Preference?”
Kurt shook his head. Some of the subhouses in New York he frequented enough to be called a regular, but he never sought after one individual in particular. He certainly hadn’t been here long enough too. “Male. That’s really it.”
She smiled again, and checked his ID against the records on the computer in front of her. Apparently everything checked out, and she handed him back his ID along with a list containing rules of conduct for Doms. “Your blood test still hasn’t come back yet, so you’ll be required to use protection.” (That was fine, he would anyway) “Room 25, on the left.”
The tile floor clicked loudly under the heels of his shoes as he walked towards the indicated room. It must be a slow day, everything was quiet, flooded in harsh light and sterile smelling. Pretty much the same as any other sub house he’d been in.
Looking back, he would never be sure what he expected pushing through the door of room 25 in a subhouse in the middle of Lima, Ohio, but it wasn’t this. Kneeling on the floor, head bowed down and completely naked, blindfold across his eyes, was a young man. Not even a young man, a boy really, naked on the hard cold ground. Kurt’s breath caught in his throat.
He was beautiful. Even with his eyes covered, he was breathtakingly beautiful. The boy was thin, but not sickly so, his body looked firm with the promise of muscles he would someday grow into. Soft curls, an angular jaw, broad shoulders meeting a lightly muscled chest covered in a thin dusting of black hair, tapering down into a tiny waist that made something hot crawl and growl in Kurt’s stomach. From there, muscular thighs (dancer’s thighs?), and hanging soft between spread legs, his cock.
This gave Kurt pause. It was really unusual to find a sub like this, down on his knees even though he didn’t have to be, but soft, not turned on. Curiosity shot through Kurt, followed by worry. Even though he knew why the blindfolds were necessary, they made it hard to tell if a sub was really under. He’d never met a sub who would fake before, but his instincts were screaming at him now, that something was wrong. The boy hadn’t even moved, other than to breathe.
The itch was receding now, filling Kurt with calm purpose. He knew what to do, where to channel the control he was feeling. Calmly, purposefully, he stepped into the room, walked towards the boy on his knees. That beautiful face was still tipped to the floor, the picture of perfect submission, but forced, fake. He reached out, catching his fingers under the boy’s chin, tilting it up. “Head up,” he said, the command natural in his voice.
The boy shivered, face now tipped up towards Kurt. It was hard to read expressions through a blindfold, but he seemed… surprised. Odd. Kurt smiled, even though he knew the boy couldn’t see him, and gently traced the lines of boy’s face.
The words made Blaine tremble. Everything about the man made Blaine tremble, want to bare his neck, give himself up, make himself vulnerable. It was terrifying.
He’d been able to smell him, the moment he opened the door. Sharp, crisp and clean, masculine but subtle, drowning out the sanitizing smell of the clinic. His breath was soft, not heavy and panting like so many of the men here. His voice, when he spoke, was high and light, but drenched in command that made Blaine want to sink into himself and obey.
And his touch. Warm fingers on Blaine’s face, not sweaty or clammy, calming and gentle. He touched Blaine with purpose, but also with care. It wasn’t anything like what Blaine had come to associate with Dominants. He felt off footed.
“What do you want?”
It took Blaine a minute to register the question. He’d never, in three years of coming to this house, been asked by a Dom what he wanted. The answer was obvious. He was down on his knees, he needed to be dominated. He needed the chemicals in his body to right themselves so that he wouldn’t get sick.
“T-to please you, Sir,” he answered. It seemed safe. It seemed like the kind of answer a good sub would give. The man above him hummed softly, his fingers pausing in their careful exploration of his face. Already it ache to lose the calming, rhythmic touch. He wanted to whine, to promise to do whatever this Dom wanted, as long as he kept touching Blaine like that, so gentle with so much care.
“And what if…” The man asked carefully, moving his hand up to Blaine’s hair and stroking through it. Blaine wanted to moan, to roll over and purr with how good it felt. “What if it would please me to please you?”
Blaine didn’t understand, not really, an instinct stirring inside his chest that felt like it might consume him. It was too distracting, and he didn’t understand. He would do whatever his Dom wanted, but if he wanted to please Blaine? He didn’t know how to give a Dom that.
“Answer me.” The voice was still gentle, still commanding, and Blaine couldn’t not obey.
“I don’t understand, Sir.”
A small hum came from the man above him, and he felt a shift, the angle of the hand in his hair changed. When the man spoke again, he his voice was much closer. He’d kneeled down to Blaine’s level. Why had he done that? Subs were lower than Doms, kneeling showed respect. Had Blaine done something wrong? But the hand in his hair continued stroking and his Dom answered “What can I do to make you feel good? Tell me what you like.”
Control, dominance, seemed to emanate from this man, and Blaine didn’t understand. He was so unlike any Dom Blaine had ever had, he did things that made no sense. But Blaine couldn’t disobey his command. Tell me what you like. “How you touch me. It feels so good.”
The fingers in his hair scratched gently at his scalp, a reward as the man whispered “Thank you, Beautiful.”
Another hand came up to Blaine’s body then, cupping the side of his neck, and massaging gently. Blaine bit in another moan.
“Don’t do that. I need to know when you feel good, you need to let me hear. Tell me if you like something, if you can. If not, just let your body do what it needs.”
Blaine’s head rolled to the side on instinct, baring his neck to this strange man. Fingers traced his tendons, down across his collar bones, until two hands are pushed flat against his chest, caressing. His skin felt electric, alive, and he sighed as searching hands explored his body. He’d never been touched like this, not ever, not like another person was trying to learn everything about him.
It started to feel like he was losing time, suddenly hands were stroke different patches of skin, and he had no idea how they got there. His head felt loose, his entire body sung, blood moving under his skin and pooling in his groin. He was hard, but it didn’t seem to matter, his Dom wasn’t touching him there so it didn’t matter, all that mattered was that he did what he was told. (Let me hear you, let me make you feel good)
He floated, lost in the touch, until the man spoke again. “You’re doing so well, Beautiful. I need you to keep being so good, but don’t come. Not until I tell you. Answer me.”
Then one of the hands that had been exploring his back was sliding forward, down his stomach, to wrap around his cock. Blaine moaned, helpless and broken, locking down on the idea that he’d been told not to come. He couldn’t come, but his body wanted to. Never had a touch felt like this, the steady pumping on his cock so much more than his own hand, than any other hand that had touched him.
His Dom was speaking again, soft, encouraging words, but Blaine couldn’t focus on them. He was falling into his head again. He felt like he might actually fall over, but then the hand that wasn’t stroke his cock was winding around his waist, pulling him to lean against the chest of the man in front of him.
The cool fabric of his Dom’s shirt felt like a balm to Blaine’s over heated face. The hand on his cock was steady, sending waves of pleasure through Blaine’s body with every stroke, and Blaine could smell only him. He pressed his face into the man’s solid chest, breathed him, felt held, cared for, owned. He felt so utterly safe, so drenched in pleasure, so lost he couldn’t think. Could only feel, and let his man take from him, drown him in his own arousal until there was nothing left.
Just when it felt like it was too much, like he would have to break the order and come anyway, just when he couldn’t not come anymore, the man’s lips were brushing against his ear, whispering, “Come for me, Beautiful.”
When his brain returned to him, he was aware of two things. The first, and most immediate thing, was that he was being held. He was slumped against the Dom’s chest, cradled in strong arms with hands running soothingly up and down his back, rocking him slightly. The other was that he was shaking. Hard.
“Good boy. You were so good for me, Beautiful. Perfect,” the voice in his ear was whispering.
The words shot through Blaine like an electric surge, like an aftershock of orgasm. He was good. He’d been good. Beautiful. Perfect. No one had ever called him those things before.
“Please, Sir,” he whispered, couldn’t not. “Let me…” He trailed off then. Maybe he wasn’t wanted like that. Maybe he’d served his purpose.
Fingers stroked softly at his hair. “What, Beautiful?”
“Can I make you come?”
A soft laugh, then lips pressing against his temple. A kiss. Blaine’s heart surged, his stomach swooped. “Yes.”
“Can-can I suck you?” The words were out of Blaine’s mouth before he’d really thought them through. But his Dom laughed again.
“Only if I can kiss you first.” Blaine shivered, tilting his face up calmly, expectantly. He’d never really liked being kissed, but he’d give it, happily, after what he’d just received.
But then, maybe he’d never liked being kissed because he’d never been kissed like this. The man’s mouth was soft but claiming, kissing Blaine like he owned Blaine’s mouth and didn’t feel the need to prove it. He tasted sweet, like peppermint and person, not sour like the other men who’d kissed Blaine. Blaine wanted to melt into him.
“I’d like to see you again,” the man whispered, pulling back. “I’m going to be in town for a while. Would you be willing to meet me here every afternoon? I want to get to know you. I want show you… so much.”
Blaine’s body was still humming. Meet again? This, someone this good, this kind and careful and good, wanted to meet him again? He was powerless to say no, couldn’t say no, wanted to roll over and give himself to this man. “Yes. I’d like that.”
“Thank you,” the man said, sounding so sincere. He kissed him again, warm and slow and deep. Hands caressed his face again as the man pulled away. “You really are… so beautiful.”
Blaine couldn’t help it, he preened a little. The praise felt good, stroked down his spine like a caressing hand. Determinedly, he reached out for the zip on the man’s pants.
Never before had it felt like such a privilege to suck a man’s cock.
Kurt could not get the beautiful sub out of his head.
It wasn’t like this was his first time with a sub either. He’d been sexually active for over ten years, and had experienced some mind blowing sex, both in and out of subhouses. But that’s all it had ever been to him- mind blowing sex. It wasn’t something he dwelt on. He rarely ever went to a House more than one a week, almost never two days in a row, and never ever with the intention of meeting a specific sub. And yet…
There was just something about the boy. It wasn’t like he was amazingly submissive, on the contrary he seemed to have a hard time going under. Maybe that’s what drew Kurt too him. The boy seemed willful, but eager, pretty and shy and Kurt just wanted to know him. He wanted to know where he could touch the boy to make him shiver, what things best put him under. Instinct was screaming at him that the boy didn’t know himself. What could Kurt show him, teach him, help him discover about his body and his nature?
It didn’t help that the boy was just so beautiful. Kurt caught himself staring off into space more than once that evening, picturing smooth skin, soft lips, jaw and muscles that held more a promise for definition than actual definition itself. Age had never been a thing for Kurt, and he couldn’t help but wonder at his pre-occupation with it now. It wasn’t so much that the boy was young. Subs were sexually viable as soon as they had their first sickness, and the age gap between them didn’t seem great enough to be objectionable.
No, it was more the promise his youth seemed to hold. Kurt wanted to see what he could grow into, which was a very strange thing to feel for someone he’d only ever seen once, on his knees in a subhouse.
That was another thing that fascinated Kurt. There had been no real reason for the boy to kneel. It wasn’t required or expected of subs. Some did it because they liked it, it helped them get under, but it didn’t seem to fit in this case. It seemed almost like a distraction, to pull a Dom’s attention away from the boy’s needs. Or maybe resignation to the fact that his needs would be ignored.
He’d been so confused when Kurt asked what he wanted, and Kurt knew the kind of men who usually frequented subhouses. He could put two and two together. It made him ache to think of a Dom treating that beautiful boy as if he didn’t matter. Something hot and possessive curled in Kurt’s chest whenever he thought about it, so he resolved to stop thinking about it.
Of course, that was easier said than done. There was only so much he could do to distract himself in Lima, and he used up most of those options that first night. He was going to make himself crazy waiting to go to the subhouse tomorrow, at the agreed upon time.
(The boy had looked so surprised, like he couldn’t believe Kurt could want him. Of course he wanted him, beautiful and eager and- Kurt suspected- just a little bit damaged. Kurt wanted to help him.)
He needed a distraction, and the standing invitation from his old high school Glee teacher seemed as good as any. Glee was on of the few aspects of high school Kurt had any kind of fond memory from, and though Mr. Shue had never been a particularly inspired teacher, he had made it possible. Plus, the idea of going in to show off to a bunch of bright eye broadway babies had it’s own appeal.
As a distraction, it worked pretty well. Mr. Shue was just as well-meaning yet misguided as ever, but it seemed less annoying now that it no longer had direct impact on Kurt’s life. A framed photo of the Glee kids in Kurt’s graduating class, the original glee club members, still sat on his desk, Rachel and Kurt hand in hand in front, big dreams bright in their young eyes. Life had turned out quite differently than he’d anticipated in high school, and it had been months since he’d talked to Rachel.
But he refused to let himself be made melancholy by the past. Mr. Shue had asked him to help introduce the theme of the week (Kurt was both fondly nostalgic and slightly exasperated that nothing had changed at all in 10 years) and he was more than happy to be a teaching tool for the day.
He was preoccupied mentally flipping through the songs he knew well enough within the theme to perform without so much as a rehearsal, so he didn’t pay much attention as the students filed in. It wasn’t until he was standing at the front of the choir room surveying the collected group of students that he noticed the boy sitting in the back row.
Kurt was sure he was right, inexplicably, instantly sure, the moment he set eyes on the boy. Even with his hair slicked back, Kurt could recognize the lines of his face, had spent almost ten minutes tracing them. There, sitting attentively in the back row, wrapped up prettily in a cardigan and bowtie, was his beautiful Sub.
Oh, he was so young. Couldn’t be a senior even, sophomore or junior at most. He’d seemed older, stripped bare and on his knees, or maybe it was just that now Kurt could see his eyes. Beautiful, golden eyes, sad around the edges, but bright and intelligent, not a kid’s eyes, but not a man’s either.
He knew he was staring, stuck on this boy as Mr. Shue talked next to him, introducing Kurt as a former student. He needed to focus, but all he could think was does he recognize me? But of course he wouldn’t. He’d been blindfolded, that was part of the reason the blindfold rule existed, but couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow the boy should just know.
But he didn’t seem to. He was watching Kurt was the same polite interest as the rest of the class, but nothing more. Kurt had to shake himself. He didn’t even know this boy’s name.
So he sang, a song from Rent he could do in his sleep, and then settled back to watch the group perform. It seemed like Mr. Shue had gotten better at handling ensembles, or there was no Rachel in this particular group, because the kids all performed together, solos scattered throughout. Kurt tried to make himself pay attention to the entire group, but his focus always wandered back to the dark haired boy.
His voice was hard to distinguish from the group, and he had no solos in this particular number, but he -along with pretty blonde girl- seemed to be carrying the dancing. And Kurt had been right, he did have a dancer’s body, he was fantastic. Kurt found himself mentally cataloging the things the boy’s body could do, his comfort level inhabiting it. Oh, there was so much Kurt could show him.
But that was unfair, this wasn’t a level playing field. He shouldn’t know more about this boy than he knew about Kurt. That was the only thing that was stopping Kurt from asking about him (asking his name, who are his friends, why does no one notice that he doesn’t seem happy, why can teachers never tell when their students are hurting?)
But it wasn’t fair, and he needed to stop. Kurt would ask him today. He’d pull the boy up off his knees before they played, ask him his name, what experience he had, what he needed Kurt to avoid so as not to hurt him. He should have done it last time, and he berated himself for it silently, watched the way the boy separated himself from the group after the routine, involved but distant. He should have done it, but he’d gone on instinct, and the same instinct was telling him now that the boy didn’t know. Probably wasn’t aware he was hurting.
Kurt just wanted to help him. But he’d have to make it through until the afternoon first.
Blaine was preoccupied the entire way to the Subhouse that afternoon after school. The visitor to Glee, with his beautiful voice and absolutely gorgeous physique, was predominate among his thoughts.
When he’d first spoken, after Mr. Shue introduced him (“This is Kurt, he was one of my students the first year we won nationals”) Blaine could have sworn… but no. Kurt was a relatively successful business owner from New York City. Even if he was single, why would he be going to a Subhouse? As beautiful as he was, he must have subs falling to their knees at his feet all the time.
No, Blaine wouldn’t let himself hope. He didn’t really even have anything to hope for. All his strange, caring Dom had promised him was to meet again. Not a claim, not asking to see him outside the house. Why would he want that from Blaine anyway?
But he’d been kind, so caring, had held Blaine close after he’d come, let Blaine tremble in his arms and kissed him perfectly. Wasn’t that the kind of Dom Blaine had always wanted? Someone who could make him feel cared for, as well as desired sexually.
With more excitement than he could ever remember, Blaine stripped out of his cloths as soon as he was behind the closed door of the subhouse. He tied on the blindfold and sank to his knees. Apprehension mixed with excitement in his stomach. What if he didn’t come?
But he did. Almost as soon as Blaine started to worry, the door to the room clicked open, and the familiar smell of him wafted in as he shut the door. Blaine tilted his face up, excited and hopeful and a little bit scared.
Hands stroked his cheek, soft and familiar, and the man’s voice when he spoke was different than Blaine remembered, not so commanding. “Can you come sit with me on the bed for a moment? I’d like to talk for a minute before we play.”
Blaine’s heart sank so fast it made his stomach hurt. Of course he’d built it up too much in his head. Just because some random Dom called him beautiful didn’t change the fact that he was used. Dirty. Three years passed his sell by date. Just because this Dom had been kind, decent, didn’t mean he wanted Blaine.
“Of course, Sir.” His voice sounded weird, dull and empty.
He braced himself, ready for the undignified process of standing and find his way to the bed while blindfolded, but then warm, broad hands were catching on to him and helping him up. One hand in the crook of his elbow, the other resting on the small of his back, the Dom guided him to the bed, helped him settle down. He’s just being kind Blaine reminded himself. Suddenly Blaine felt more aware of his own nudity than he had been in a very long time, and shifted uncomfortably.
But then the man was sitting next to him, close enough that his leg was pressed against Blaine’s, and took his hand.
“You can relax, you know, I just want to talk to you,” the man said softly, rubbing the back of Blaine’s hand until it opened under his. Strong fingers massaged his palm, and Blaine wanted to moan. For someone who’d always had a hard time going under, the idea of staying present long enough to talk with this man was doing that seemed incredibly difficult.
But he would tried. He wanted to be good for him. “I’ll try, Sir.”
The man hummed, softly, before he started talking. “I’ve never had a regular Sub before, in or out of a claim. I’ve never played with the same person regularly, so I don’t know exactly how this works. I know there’s no contract, I know you hold a contract with the House so you can’t give one to me. But if we’re going to meet regularly, I’d feel safer knowing your limits, knowing you know mine. I’d like to be able to explore things with you, but I want it to be something we both want.” He paused here, and Blaine appreciated the moment to think.
He didn’t know what to do, either. It was never his place to know what to do, he’d always just given what was asked for. He knew things like limits and contracts existed within a claim, but outside of one, people just playing together… he didn’t know.
But then the man was speaking again. “I know what I’m asking requires a lot of trust. You’d be making more than your body vulnerable to me, and I’m aware of that. But I’d be doing the same, I’d like us to be able to trust each other that way. I want to get to know you, Beautiful.”
Blaine’s heart surged in his chest, the name and the sentiment making his head spin. Get to know him? But he was nothing, nothing at all to hold the interest of this wonderful man.
“Do you think you can trust me?”
“Yes, Sir.” He said it without thinking, which should scare him, he knew it should. But it didn’t, not at all.
“Thank you,” his Dom said, his voice warm, then his hand was in Blaine’s hair, stroking. A reward. It made happiness roll down Blaine’s spine, made him want to do more, give more.
“I’d like to know your name,” the man asked, and Blaine stiffened. It wasn’t against any rules of the house, but it wasn’t common practice either. “and I’d like you to know mine. It won’t affect play if you don’t want it to, I can call whatever you’d like, and I’d like you to keep calling me ‘Sir.’ But I want to know.”
Blaine tried to think about it, but the hand stroking his hair was making everything fuzzy. Well, if he wants to talk as equals… Blaine reached up, catching the man’s hand and pulling it into his lap. “I can’t think when you do that.”
His Dom laughed, light and bright. “I’m sorry.”
Blaine smiled, and squeezed the hand in his. Having a name to attach to this man would be wonderful, even if having him know Blaine’s was a bit scary. After a moment’s hesitation, he said “My name’s Blaine.”
“Blaine,” the man repeated back to him, and he nodded. “Thank you, for trusting me. My name is Kurt.”
Kurt. Blaine’s heart jumped in his throat, Mr. Shue’s introduction ringing in his ears. But it couldn’t be, it couldn’t be. No one that successful, that talented and gorgeous would be out of claim, much less wasting their time with Blaine.
“Kurt,” he echoed back, just as his Dom, as Kurt, had.
“I still want you to call me ‘Sir’ when we play,” Kurt stated, the command slipping back into his voice, and Blaine nodded quickly. Of course he would. “What would you like me to call you?”
Blaine stuttered here, Kurt’s voice calling him ‘Beautiful’ in his mind. He couldn’t ask for that. It was a gift every time Kurt said it, he couldn’t asked to be called beautiful when he was so clearly used. He got as far as “You’ve been calling me…” before he stuttered to a stop.
Kurt seemed to understand. “You are. Beautiful. Calling you that seems right to me, as long as it’s fine with you.” Fine with Blaine? It was like a benediction.
Kurt’s hand stroked his hair once, twice, three times, he was so good at rewards, how had someone who never played with the same person regularly gotten so good. “Just a couple more minutes, and then we can play” Excitement shivered through Blaine at the idea, and he marveled at it. “I need to know your limits, Beautiful.”
Blaine sat in silence, thinking. Nothing came to mind that he hadn’t done before, the idea of dictating terms of play seemed incredible to him, but… “I don’t like blood,” he whispered, and even this stipulation felt like asking too much. “I don’t like being cut.”
Kurt’s hands became very still in his, and for one awful moment he thought he’d failed some kind of test. Then Kurt spoke. “Have you been cut without warning before?”
Blaine shrugged and looked down, face burning with shame. There wasn’t much he hadn’t done in three years of satisfying other men.
“Why didn’t you safeword, or tell the house?” Blaine was startled by the genuine worry and pain in his Dom’s voice, like it was somehow hurting him.
“I’m a Sub.” It felt like stating the obvious. He just did what he was expected to do, and took it.
“But you’re still a person!” Suddenly Kurt’s hands were cupping his face. “You need to promise me, that if I ever do something that’s not good for you, that doesn’t help you stay under and feel safe, you will safeword. I can’t do this if I might be hurting you, Blaine.”
Dimly, he was aware of how strange it was to have Kurt call him by his name. But he was overwhelmed by Kurt’s words, by the idea of having permission, let alone a mandate to priorities his own needs. “Safewords go with contracts, I-”
“No, safewords go with play of any kind. You always deserve to feel safe,” and Kurt’s voice sounded watery now, upset. Blaine didn’t want to upset him, never meant to upset him, to be not good.
Gingerly, he nuzzled against Kurt’s palm on his face. “I promise.”
“Thank you,” Kurt responded. And then he was pressing his lips against Blaine’s forehead in a gentle kiss. “In return, I promise not to try any hard kinks before asking you first.” Blaine marveled at the novelty of it. There was a moment of silence, and when his Dom spoke again, he sounded more composed. “One more thing. Playing with your hair seems like a good reward, but a small one. Is there anything else I can do for you, when you’ve been good?”
Blaine hesitated, but really Kurt had never asked for anything but honesty from him. “Yesterday, after I… you just, held me. That was-” incredible, perfect, the first time I’ve ever been held “Nice.”
Kurt’s laughter was quickly becoming one of Blaine’s favorite sounds. “Cuddles after sex, got it.” Kurt pressed another kiss to Blaine’s forehead before pulling back. “Are you ready to start now?” Blaine nodded eagerly, body already starting to buzz.
Then Kurt’s hands were on his shoulders, guiding him to lay back on the bed. He went willingly, still a little bit enraptured by the feeling of Kurt’s hands on his skin, the way his Dom touched him.
“Right now, I want to learn you, Beautiful. I’m going to touch you and kiss you however I want, and I want you to lay still. You can make noise, but don’t talk, and don’t touch. Touch and there will be a punishment.”
Shivers chased through Blaine’s body. He’d have thought that being told exactly what was going to happen would take the excitement out of it. Instead, it made his cock throb. Oh god, he wanted all of that. Laying still, just taking what Kurt gave him, was like a release. All he had to do was not touch, he could sink under, be good, be what Kurt wanted so easily. “Yes, Sir, please, Sir.”
Kurt hummed, and there was something playfully wicked in his tone. “Please, huh? We’ll experiment with that later.”
Then Kurt’s hands were off him, and Blaine wanted to reach out, find him again. Kurt said not to touch, there would be a punishment if he did, and part of him wanted to push, wanted to know what punishment would entail. A much bigger part of him just wanted to be good for Kurt.
Then the bed was shifting under Kurt’s weight, and he was leaning down, whispering in Blaine’s ear “Don’t come until I tell you to, Beautiful.”
Then Kurt was kissing him, thumbs rubbing at his nipples, and Blaine let himself sink.
Kurt had started that sentence to himself so many times that he’d lost count. Blaine was… beautiful, strong, gentle, sweet, devoted, intelligent, modest, obedient. Blaine was everything Kurt never knew he needed in a Sub. Blaine was… a gift.
Getting to learn about Blaine, and in turn show him things about himself, was a gift. And learn he did.
The thing that became apparent right away was that Blaine responded better to psychological dominance than physical dominance. Tying him up to a bed so he couldn’t move made him tense, edgy (though not enough to safeword and he promised he would) but laying him down and telling him not to move unwound him like a spool.
It was easy to figure out, really. Blaine needed simple commands he could focus on and follow. Easy commands let him slip under, though other things worked well to keep him there. He liked to touch Kurt, which in turn meant touch was one of the first things Kurt took away from him. He liked seeing Blaine’s hands clench, fighting down the desire to reach out. Beautiful submission, always, it made things growl in Kurt chest with contentment to see how Blaine worked for him.
Another thing Kurt figured out was that Blaine responded better to rewards than punishments. Kurt had his theories about why this was, and they had a lot to do with the scars he could see on Blaine’s body. Blaine worked very hard never to give Kurt a reason to punish him, and Kurt could reward good behavior. Loved rewarding good behavior in fact, he loved the pliancy of Blaine’s body against his, loved how happiness and contentment seemed to radiate off him.
They’d been curled up together on the little house bed the first time Kurt asked about the scars. It was after a particularly intense scene (Blaine on the bed, hands curled around the bars of the headboard but unsecured, Kurt fucking down his throat again and again, he’d watch Blaine’s eyes flutter behind the blindfold, then sink, felt the exact moment Blaine just let go and opened up) and holding Blaine close after felt as much like a reward for Kurt as something he did for Blaine.
They’d taken to talking in moments like these. Kurt was compelled by Blaine, fascinated by him. He wanted to know him, in more ways than just the physical. And Blaine, well, he seemed more than willing to share. Kurt felt so honored to have his trust.
Only now he couldn’t help but wonder, as he got to know Blaine, how someone so fiercely intelligent could allow himself to be so carelessly used. He traced his finger gently over a scar on Blaine’s shoulder and asked “How did you get this?”
He’d hope it’d be a mundane answer, something like falling off a bike as a child, but the way Blaine tensed in his arms told him immediately it wasn’t. Still, Blaine didn’t answer right away. “Are you telling me to tell you?” He asked finally, and Kurt recognized the tone of his voice. It was the careful, neutral voice he used when he was trying to be a good sub. He never seemed to realize he already was a good sub.
“No, Blaine, I’m not. We’re not playing. It’s just me asking you.”
Blaine was quiet again, and not for the first time Kurt mentally cursed the blindfold that kept him from seeing Blaine’s eyes. Eventually, Blaine answered simply “I wasn’t good.”
It made Kurt’s heart ache, made his head spin with anger. Not at Blaine, never at Blaine, no. He wanted to find every man who’d ever pounded the idea of “good sub behavior” into Blaine’s head and punch them in the face.
Tenderly, Kurt smoothed a hand down Blaine’s back. “You are good.”
“I try.” Blaine’s voice sounded heavy, and Kurt would have regretted dragging up old hurt except he needed to know. Sometimes he just wished Blaine didn’t feel he had to try so hard.
They were about two and a half weeks in the first time Kurt ever had to punish Blaine.
Things didn’t bode well from the start. For the very first time, Kurt arrived at the house before Blaine. Left sitting in the Dom’s waiting area for Blaine to arrive, Kurt couldn’t help but wonder. The boy had never been anything but prompt and eager for their sessions together. Briefly he wondered if Blaine was starting to tire of him, but dismissed the idea quickly.
(Blaine had clung last night, coming down tucked warm and sweet in the crook of Kurt’s neck, like he didn’t want to let go, like there was something outside their safe space together he needed to hide from. Kurt had wondered, but not asked.)
The session didn’t improve from there. Blaine, when he finally did arrive, was jumpy and unfocused. Kurt had never had this much trouble getting him to settle. Simple commands, which usually offered release for him, were met only with struggle. Even a simple “stay still” was met with wriggling, unconscious nervous movement.
Something was wrong. That much was easy to tell. Part of Kurt wanted to call off the play, make Blaine tell him what was going on. But instinct told him that wouldn’t be what Blaine needed. Blaine needed to not be inside his head right now, and Kurt could give that to him. At least he hoped he could.
Still, he’d never done punishment with Blaine. It was a fine line, he knew, what he did would either help Blaine push through whatever was bothering him or it would hurt him in ways Kurt didn’t fully understand. Orders came with consequences though, and if Blaine couldn’t follow orders, Kurt had to make sure he knew that wasn’t okay.
“Stop,” Kurt snapped, pinning Blaine’s hands to the bed to stop their restless motion. He pulled in a deep breath, calming himself. Annoyance wouldn’t help Blaine. “What have I told you to do so far today?”
Blaine hesitated for a moment, then spoke. “Don’t move. Let you take care of me.”
Kurt hummed in affirmation, releasing Blaine’s wrists, only to have his fingers start drumming on the bed. Sighing internally, Kurt reached out and grabbed his wrists again. “Have you done those things?”
Stillness finally swept through Blaine’s body, but Kurt could read the difference. This was apprehension, not surrender. “No, Sir.”
Kurt sighed. He didn’t want to scare Blaine. He didn’t want to hurt him. “What happens when you don’t do what I ask?”
“You punish me.” Blaine’s voice was so quiet. Kurt release his wrists again, reached up to brush his fingers over Blaine’s forehead.
“That’s right, Beautiful.” The name seemed to unwind Blaine a bit. Interesting. “Here’s what’s going to happen. There will be no surprises, nothing you can’t anticipate. I’m to sit on the bed, and you’re going to lay across my lap. I’m going to spank you, and you’re going to count it for me. We’re going up to ten. You’re going to lay still, and say nothing besides numbers. Do you understand?”
It took some maneuvering to get Blaine settled what with the blindfold obstructing his vision. Eventually though, he was settled across Kurt’s thighs, the beautiful, vulnerable curve of his ass on display. Something visceral inside Kurt purred at the idea of getting to take out the disobedience on that unmarked flesh. He clamped down on it, though, and focused on checking the line of Blaine’s spine to make sure the position put no undue stress on his back.
Blaine had his head pillowed on his crossed arms, face tucked away from Kurt’s sight, but he could see the way the boy’s hands were clenched into fists. He knew Blaine had bad experiences with pain in his past, apprehension was to be expected. It didn’t stop him from hoping he could show Blaine something new today.
“Count for me. Don’t move, don’t say anything else,” Kurt reminded him, then brought his open palm down hard on the right cheek of Blaine’s ass.
The reaction was obvious. Blaine’s entire body tense, coiling tight. But he didn’t move, didn’t squirm, and in a careful, measured voice said “One.”
Kurt smiled. “Good boy,” he praised, and there was a visual reaction to that too. Blaine shivered, tension rolling and releasing through his frame, and Kurt suddenly got it. Blaine associated pain with displeasure, with not being right, not being good enough. Smiling, he brought his hand down hard on the other cheek.
They continued like that, Blaine counting and Kurt praising his obedience. By four the tension had left Blaine’s body completely, by six his ass was starting to glow red. Seven and his voice was starting to change. Eight and his hands were uncurled, loose and free. Nine and Kurt could feel how hard Blaine was against his leg.
Ten and Blaine was completely loose in his lap, ass bright red and warm to the touch. Touch it he did, running his hand softly over the abused skin as he murmured praise to the boy who’d finally gone under, and gone under hard.
Carefully, Kurt rolled Blaine over in his lap. He opened his thighs some so Blaine’s abused ass could settle between his legs with relatively little friction. Blaine stayed loose and relaxed under Kurt’s guiding hands, his dick hard and heavy against his stomach. He didn’t move, and didn’t speak. So good for Kurt.
Kurt curled his hand around Blaine’s erection, giving it a purposeful stroke. “You can make noise now, Beautiful. Do you want to come?”
Blaine moaned, unrestrained and so gorgeous. “Yes, Sir, please Sir, may I come?”
“Yes, Beautiful, come when you need to, whenever you need to.” Kurt kept his strokes powerful and purposeful, no tease at all. Blaine’s body bowed beautiful when it all finally became too much, spilling across Kurt’s fist and his own stomach.
Watching Blaine drift after orgasm was one of Kurt’s favorite things to do. He always looked so peaceful. Carefully, Kurt maneuvered himself out from underneath Blaine, curling up along his side. He could tell when Blaine started coming back to himself, and laughed when Blaine started to paw his hand down to Kurt’s erection. He caught Blaine’s wrist, bringing it up to kiss the tender skin on the inside. “Not today. This was about you.”
Blaine tilted his head, processing this. Then he said, voice clear in the way it only was after play was done “My ass hurts.”
Kurt laughed, so pleased to still be able to be caught off guard by this boy. “There’s some cream over there, in the aftercare supplies. I can rub it in for you, that’d take some of the burn away.”
Blaine smiled at him, cheeky and loose, and rolled over to tuck in close to Kurt. “You just want to touch my ass.”
“Yes, that’s the only motivation I could possibly have for wanting to care of you,” he said dryly, sweeping a palm down the line of Blaine’s spine.
“You do,” Blaine said quietly “-take care of me. You do.”
Warmth blossomed in Kurt’s chest, possessive and so glad. “It’s a pleasure to do,” he murmured into Blaine’s hair, before kissing him.
Later, after coaxing Blaine onto his stomach so Kurt could rub in the soothing lotion, he asked what was wrong. He’d expected Blaine to tense, expected to have finally reached the thing Blaine wouldn’t give him. But Blaine just sighed, wriggling a little. “I’ve kind of… been having this ongoing fight with my dad. It came to a head last night.”
Sometimes Kurt forgot how young Blaine really was. No matter what he did with Kurt, he still went home to his parents after. Kurt wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “What are you fighting about?” He asked carefully.
Blaine was quiet for a minute. “This,” he said, and Kurt’s hands stilled where they were working against Blaine’s tender flesh. “I’ve never… I never used to come to the house this regularly. Only when I had too, when I couldn’t go without getting sick any longer. And now I’m coming here every day. My dad’s never liked the idea of having a sub for a son, so he’s… pissed. That I’m rubbing it in his face.”
Kurt didn’t know how to respond to that. The idea that Blaine being who he was, acting on impulses he really couldn’t control, and being told it was rubbing it in someone’s face was just ridiculous. “Why doesn’t he like that you’re a sub?”
Blaine’s voice sounded sadly resigned when he spoke again. “He’s a Dom, and my big brother’s a Dom. Subs are weak. He doesn’t like having a weak son.”
In that moment, Kurt hated Blaine’s father. “You’re not weak. Blaine, you’re not.”
A small, sad smile. “I know. Or at least… maybe I’m starting to.”
A month. It had been a month since Kurt had walked into Blaine’s life. Already it was hard to imagine life without him.
In reality, Blaine only saw Kurt for at most two hours a day. It shouldn’t feel like Kurt was changing every aspect of his life, he knew it shouldn’t. But it did. Knowing he had Kurt to go to at the end of the day made dealing with school easier, made the loneliness and the hurt of being on the outside of his closest friends lives easier to deal with. Knowing he mattered to someone, was valued and cared for and beautiful to someone, made the fight that was becoming the constant soundtrack of his homelife easier to deal with.
He felt better physically, too. His head was clearer, his body felt sharper and more in his control than he could ever remember. Of course, the reason for that was simple. It was that his body was getting what it needed regularly, and correctly for the first time in his life. It was because Kurt could read him, could put him under so easily, all the while making him feel safe and treasured.
It was actually kind of terrifying to think how much of a center point in Blaine’s life Kurt had become. A month wasn’t a long time, objectively, but with someone like Kurt, someone who made Blaine feel like Kurt did, a month was forever. Because Kurt was <i>it</i> for Blaine, and he knew it. He could never imagine trusting anyone, giving himself to anyone as wholly and completely as he did Kurt.
And with this knowledge came the promise of pain. Because Kurt would leave him. It was inevitable. Kurt had a life, an amazing successful adult life, that didn’t involve Blaine. The day would come when Kurt had to go back to that life, and it would leave Blaine absolutely broken.
That couldn’t stop him from giving himself to Kurt, though. No, not at all. Blaine had never expected to feel prized and cherished, never expected anyone to see him as anything other than a whore. If the price for having that, even for a brief time, was that it had to have an expiration date, well. It was a small price to pay.
Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t dreading the day Kurt left. He was, of course he was. Every time he walked into the subhouse, it was with the ache in his heart that it might be today, today he might not come.
Most of the time, Kurt was there as soon as he was ready for him. He’d strip bare, sit or kneel or whatever he felt that particular day, and then Kurt would come. He never kept Blaine waiting.
Which was why today felt so utterly terrible. It had been about 30 minutes, by his reckoning (it was always hard to tell how much time had passed when you were blindfolded) and still Kurt hadn’t come yet.
The air of the house was cold against his naked skin, and it seemed to leach into him, chilling him from the inside out. The clinical smell was worse than usual, nauseating now that he was used to the sharp, warm smell of Kurt’s cologne. Everything felt empty.
Vaguely, Blaine wondered how long he should sit here, naked and blindfolded, for someone who had clearly already left him behind. Despite the chill, he didn’t want to move. Leaving would mean closing the door on this, would mean admitting Kurt was gone. Forever. He would sit there for days, forever, if it meant this wasn’t over.
That was stupid, though. He was just being stupid. What did it matter that his heart was trying to turn itself inside out? It was time to move, to try to put together what of his life he had left without Kurt. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t feel his fingertips. He had to get dressed and leave.
He’d finally managed to talk his feet into moving, standing to find the clothes he’d left folded in the corner, when the door clicked open. Part of him was expecting it to be a worker from the house, telling him it was time for him to leave, even as his brain registered a familiar smell.
But then there was a voice, his voice, speaking. “Blaine, oh my god, I’m so sorry I’m late. I was on a call for work, I couldn’t just hang up on them. I’m so, so sorry. Blaine, are you-”
Dimly, Blaine was aware of several things. He could feel his legs give out, could feel Kurt’s arms catch him as he crumpled, could feel the sobs ripping themselves from his chest as Kurt eased them to the ground, cradling Blaine against his body. He was aware of all these things, but he couldn’t believe them.
His heart ached, his head was spinning, he was drowning in the smell of Kurt, the sound and feel of him, and he just couldn’t process it. He hadn’t even begun to process losing Kurt, how could he process getting him back? Ugly sobs ripped from his throat, wet and painful as they past his vocal cords and he just clung. Kurt was all he could think, all he could feel, everything was Kurt. How had he ever thought he could live without this man?
The blindfold was sticking to his face, damp with his tears, but all he could do was push his face against Kurt’s chest and ache. Ache for the loss he’d avoided today, but would have to endure some day.
Kurt’s voice, soft and soothing, was whispering against his hair, and he focused on it. If he focused on Kurt’s voice and the solidness of his body against Blaine’s, the horrible feeling of having lost the most important person in his life would fade. It would.
Eventually, when he felt like he could breathe again without breaking down, Blaine sat up. Kurt kept him close though, arm wrapped around Blaine’s waist to keep him in Kurt’s lap. Blaine marveled at it, at the miracle of Kurt’s existence and how wonderful it felt to be held. Kurt’s hand, which had been rubbing soothing circles on his back, came up now to cradle Blaine’s face. He turned into it, kissing Kurt’s palm, grateful.
“Baby, what happened, what’s wrong?” Kurt’s voice sounded wrecked, and god, Blaine was so in love. The realization was like a small thump in his already sore heart.
“I thought you’d left,” was all Blaine could manage. It sounded pathetic even to himself.
Kurt was quiet, and though Blaine was getting pretty good at reading him, but he couldn’t help the way his heart dropped. But then Kurt’s hand left his face, fingers coming up to stroke through Blaine’s hair. It poured like warm water, comforting and relaxing, down Blaine’s back.
Kurt’s voice, when he did speak, was wet, pained sound. “Blaine, my beautiful boy, why do you think that I would just leave? Without saying goodbye to you?”
This made Blaine pause. “I don’t- I don’t know. I just assumed…”
He trailed off, and then Kurt was kissing him, soft and… damp. Kurt’s crying he realized with a start.
“Why are you crying?” He couldn’t see Kurt’s face, but he could reach up, take Kurt’s wet cheeks in his hands, wipe away the tears.
Kurt laughed at that, bitter and pained sounded. “I’m crying because you’re crying. And because clearly I’ve done such a bad job that you think I could just- leave you, like I could do that, Blaine. I couldn’t do that.”
It was all too much process, Blaine couldn’t think, the achy feeling in his chest swelling and throbbing at the idea of having hurt Kurt, in any way. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” he whispered, leaning in to tuck his head against Kurt’s collarbones. Submission his brain supplied, but he ignored it. It just felt right. Being with Kurt felt right.
Kurt’s hand came up to stroke the exposed side of Blaine’s neck, lips pressing into his hair. They sat there, on the cold floor of the subhouse, for a long time. Kurt’s arms came to circle around him again, holding him close and rocking gently. Eventually, long after Blaine’s legs had gone to sleep, Kurt began to stir.
“Come on, Beautiful, let’s go to the bed and talk. Okay?”
It was easy to let Kurt lead him, tentative steps on feet filled with pins and needles from lack of circulation. It was easy to sink into Kurt’s arms on the scratchy sheet of the bed, easy to forget the ache as Kurt’s fingers petted him, murmured endearments in his ears. It would be so easy to sink under and forget. But Kurt said talk, which meant staying present.
“You’re right, that I am going to have to leave. Sooner than I’d like too, probably. But it’s not going to be out of the blue, and I’m not going to… I would tell you, Blaine. I promise, I promise I’m not going to just stop showing up one day.”
Blaine released a shaky breath, his sore heart thudding in his chest. “I just… Kurt, you’re…” He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how much more of himself he could give and have anything left. “Losing you is just going to be really hard.”
Another wet sound from Kurt, like he was in danger of crying again, and then he was kissing over Blaine’s face, claiming his mouth. God, he was so Kurt’s. “I don’t want to lose you,” Kurt murmured, arms tightening around Blaine’s body. “Maybe we can work something out, I’ll come back to visit, or you can come out and see me.”
“An unclaimed sub flying to New York on his own? Come on, Kurt, even I know that’s a bad idea,” Blaine answered, tracing his fingers over Kurt’s shirt. The material felt expensive, fitting for a man like Kurt. What would people think, if he had an unclaimed sub flying out to see him? He curled in close, willing himself to melt into Kurt.
“It is a bad idea,” Kurt agreed. “I kind of don’t care.”
Blaine laughed, and it felt like release. Then Kurt’s hands were cupping his face again, and Kurt was kissing him breathless. He was panting when Kurt finally pulled back, and he couldn’t stop himself. “Please, Sir, I need-”
He stuttered off then, still not used to being able to ask, not sure. But Kurt was brushing his lips across the blindfold, asking “What, Beautiful? What can I do for you?”
“I want to feel you. I want to feel like I’m yours.”
Kurt positively growled at that, teeth sinking in on the path Kurt had been kissing along his neck. “Mine.”
His dom’s voice was hot, possessive and powerful. God, it made Blaine want to roll over and curl up in submission, made him want to sink and get lost in Kurt.
“You want to be mine, Beautiful?” Kurt’s voice was rougher, deeper than Blaine had ever heard it.
“Yes, sir. Yours.”
Kurt had never been anything other than gentle with him, and Blaine had thought that maybe that was part of what he loved about him. Now, though, something was different. Kurt, though he wasn’t rough by any means, seemed to have lost the gentle edge he always kept when touching Blaine. He moved now like Blaine’s body was his to own, to arrange as he liked and use as he liked. There was no pain, he’d lost none of his care or reverence, but now every touch felt like a claim, like mine.
And there was nothing Blaine could do, nothing he wanted to do, but let Kurt flip him over and manhandle him until he was settled in a way that Kurt wanted. He lost some time in Kurt’s touches, completely enraptured in the feeling of being taken so thoroughly. He came back to with what felt like three of Kurt’s fingers in his ass, back arched high and moaning long and loud.
“So good for me,” Kurt was muttering into his skin, “Such a good boy for me, all mine, aren’t you Beautiful?”
All Blaine could do was sob, the claim like lightning through his body. “Yes, Sir. All yours.”
He could feel Kurt’s smile against the curve of his ass, then Kurt’s teeth, sinking into the supple flesh. It wasn’t a hard bite, not close to enough to break the skin, but as the pain sparkled up his spine (new and enticing, only with Kurt had he ever liked this, Kurt made everything good) he wondered if it would be enough to bruise. He wanted that, could admit it to himself, wanted to sit down in glee club tomorrow and feel Kurt’s teeth on him.
Then suddenly Kurt’s fingers were gone, and his voice was in Blaine’s ear. “Beautiful, come back to me for a minute, just a minute.” He nodded, aching with the emptiness. “I need you to be here, I need to ask you something.”
“I’m here,” he panted, present in his body even if he felt like he might float away at any second.
“I want to do this bare.” Blaine couldn’t help but moan at that. Kurt had never fucked him bare before, and now he wanted it, so badly. Kurt hot inside him, marking him from the inside out. God, he needed it.
“Yes, please yes,” he almost sobbed.
“Thank you, Beautiful, you can let go now.”
He was floating again, aware of the stretch of Kurt pushing into him. Kurt’s voice panted in the back of his mind, rough and so full of dominance it made Blaine want to melt. His body felt tight, like he could come in a second, but he couldn’t, his Dom hadn’t told him too. He’d be so good for Kurt, he’d be Kurt’s.
He was present enough to hear Kurt’s cries get wilder, feel his thrusts get rougher. God, he was going to come, come inside Blaine, mark him.
“Come when I do, Beautiful,” Kurt panted into Blaine’s ear. So he did.
Later he’d think about it, remember how it felt to be filled like that, how he could swear he felt the hot rush of Kurt spilling inside him. Later he’d remember it and feel so owned and loved it made him want to cry, but now all he could think about was Kurt.
Kurt, who always held Blaine so close after he came, who now rolled them over so he could spoon up along Blaine’s back, rubbing gentle circles in the quivering muscles of Blaine’s stomach. Kurt, who was pressing soft kisses against the curve of Blaine’s neck.
Kurt, who was whispering, “Thank you so much, Beautiful. Thank you for asking for that. Thank you for trusting me.”
Kurt. It was all Kurt. It would always be Kurt. Blaine curled his hand around Kurt’s on his stomach, and decided to be honest, to trust Kurt completely.
“I love you.”
Blaine loved him.
The words skipped around Kurt’s head like a beat, like a promise. He couldn’t see Blaine’s eyes because of the blindfold, couldn’t even see his face from the position they were laying in on the bed, but he could feel the boy’s body, cradled close in his arms. Blaine’s frame held no tension, no sign that he was nervous or waiting for a return. He was just stating fact. Blaine loved him.
Oh, god, Kurt was in love with him. He knew it, had known it for sure the second Blaine had crumpled in tears and Kurt realized he would do absolutely anything to spare Blaine hurt. Now, his heart thudded with it, overwhelmed by it. He was in love with Blaine, who was 16 years old, still in high school, who lived in Ohio when Kurt’s life was in New York.
But none of that changed the fact that Kurt loved him. And, he suspected, Blaine didn’t have enough people in his life telling him he was loved.
Kurt leaned down, placing a careful kiss on the bruise forming on Blaine’s neck. The thought of leaving bruises on Blaine’s skin, in places other Dom’s could see so they’d know Blaine belonged to someone, made Kurt’s stomach curl happily. He tightened his arms around Blaine, hugging him close, and rested his head gently against Blaine’s.
“I love you, too.”
Blaine did tense up then, his body freezing in Kurt’s arms. “You do?”
Oh, his poor, beautiful, broken boy. So unwilling to believe he was worthy of love. Kurt bent his neck until his forehead rested on the back of Blaine’s neck, hand coming up to trace the birth mark on the back of his shoulder. “Yeah. I do.”
Blaine’s breath left him in a shudder, and Kurt just needed him closer. It took very little urging to turn Blaine over, press him in close so they could lay together, chest to chest, legs tangled. Blaine’s breathing was erratic, like he might start crying again.
“Oh, Beautiful, it’s alright,” Kurt soothed. “Shh, don’t cry.”
A chuckled at that, wet and incredulous like Blaine didn’t know what to do. He’d been through so much today, emotionally. He must be so tired. Blaine mumbled his name, like a plea. “Kurt.”
Kurt’s brain was working a mile a minute, even as he held Blaine close and hushed him. The idea of leaving Blaine behind, which had been hard to process before, was almost impossible to fathom now. His father’s words came back to him, as he buried his nose in Blaine’s hair.
“Some day you’re going to meet someone and suddenly there will be no reason at all you don’t want to claim them.”
True, Blaine was 16. But he was incredibly intelligent and mature for his age, he’d been hurt enough, mistreated enough to have learned to think like a much older man. True, Blaine was still in high school. But he wasn’t happy there, felt isolated from his classmates, and the government easily facilitated school transfers for claimed subs. True, Blaine still lived with his parents. But between his father’s constant degrading and his mother’s indifference, Kurt knew Blaine wasn’t happy there, didn’t feel safe there.
No, Kurt was sure there were reasons he shouldn’t claim Blaine and whisk him away to New York with him. He knew their age gap was pretty great, that forcing Blaine into an adult life might only hurt him in the long run. But instinct told Kurt no. Instinct told Kurt there was nothing in the world that would be better for Blaine than being his.
Of course, Blaine would have to choose. All Kurt could do was offer Blaine this life, a life with him, a partner in Kurt’s life, having someone to lean on in his own. If he didn’t want that, didn’t want to leave his family, or his school, then… Kurt would have to spend a lot more time in Ohio. Because he needed Blaine. Needed Blaine the way he’d never wanted to need a sub, but now that he had it…he couldn’t imagine life without it.
“Blaine, I want to ask you something. And I don’t want you to answer me now. Take some time, think about it, answer me tomorrow, or the next day, however long you need to be sure.”
Blaine pulled his head back from the crook of Kurt’s neck, his face calm in the way that meant he was listening, and thinking. “Okay,” he said simply. Such easy trust. God, Kurt loved him so.
“I want to take you with me, when I go back to New York. As my sub.”
Blaine was quiet for a beat, then hesitantly asked “Your sub as in…claimed?”
Kurt laughed, couldn’t help himself from leaning forward to kiss the perfect curve of Blaine’s lips. “Yes, as in claimed. I know…I know how much I’m asking from you. I know you’re family is here, your friends are here. I know, Blaine, how much you’d be giving up for me-”
“My brother just moved to New York,” Blaine blurted out, cutting Kurt off. “Around the time you came here, he’s doing a tv show there. He’s the only one in my family I like anyway.”
Kurt laughed, remembering Blaine telling him about Cooper, and the reconciliation between them. “Blaine, don’t. Don’t try to give me an answer now. This is a huge decision, and you’ve had a really emotional day. Please, please make sure you think this through. I don’t want you to regret me. Ever.”
Blaine nodded, but there was a smile growing on his face. “You want me.” He stated, like the idea was a novelty to him. “You want to claim me, to keep me.” The awe in Blaine’s voice made Kurt hurt inside. He hated that the idea of being wanted was so incredible to Blaine.
“I do. I want to keep you.” He tucked his smile into Blaine’s shoulder, feeling happiness bubble inside of him. “I want to watch you grow up, I want to see the man you’ll become and know that he’s mine. I want to be there when your first broadway show closes, and to be able to point to you and say to people that’s my sub, isn’t he perfect?”
Blaine was laughing, clutching at him. “Kurt.” The way Blaine said his name, it was like a prayer.
He sighed, smile fading a little. “But I want you to be happy more than anything. So if that means you stay here, and I don’t get to claim you yet, then… I’ll just wrack up a shitload of frequent flier miles. Promise me, Blaine, you’ll be sure you know what you want.”
“I promise.” A beat, then “I love you, Kurt. So much.”
And Kurt was smiling again, brushing his thumb against Blaine’s bare shoulder. “I love you more, Beautiful.”
Of course, waiting for Blaine’s answer was more torturous than Kurt could ever imagine. He had to leave Blaine in the house that night, same as always, the boy stretched out on the bed and smiling softly in the glow of being wanted. Even if the claim didn’t work out, even if Blaine decided to stay in Lima, it would be worth it because he gave Blaine this. He was able to give Blaine the knowledge that someone, somewhere, loved him enough to want to keep him. And he suspected that even he didn’t know how much that meant to Blaine.
Leaving Blaine at the house was hard, but sitting through family dinner that night was even harder. He should tell his family, he knew he should. They’d be happy for him, of course, hadn’t they been bugging him to take a sub for years? But as much as he could say to himself that he didn’t want to tell them because Blaine was young, because it might fall through, because he didn’t want to risk being talked out of it, none of that was true. He wanted to keep it secret, special, between him and Blaine. Like that might somehow make the decision easier for his boy.
That didn’t stop him from being distracted, though. He couldn’t stop picturing Blaine in New York, imagining the life they could have there together. He wanted to show Blaine all his favorite places in the city, wanted to have Blaine there with him long enough for Blaine to have places of his own to show Kurt. He wanted to come home to Blaine after long days at work, to find the boy curled up doing homework on the couch, or playing music to himself. He wanted to meet the friends Blaine would make, wanted to introduce Blaine to his own friends. He wanted to wake up next to Blaine every day and remind him that he was beautiful, loved, claimed by someone.
He couldn’t help but wonder if Blaine was picturing these things. Was he thinking about the life he could have or the life he’d be leaving behind? It wasn’t like he’d never see his family again, they could fly out to Ohio as often as he wanted. Kurt did have family here too, after all. He probably should have mentioned that, probably should have been clearer-
Kurt blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts to look over to his Dad. Burt was bathed in the glow from the television, such a familiar sight to Kurt that it was somehow soothing. “I am,” he conceded.
Burt cocked his head, studying his son. “You gonna tell me why?”
Kurt laughed, and looked down at his fingers. “Eventually, probably. Once it’s resolved itself. One way or another.”
The look of resignation on Burt’s face made Kurt laugh again, filled with a sudden rush of affection for his father. He was glad he made this trip, and not just because it lead him to Blaine. Burt sighed, pushing to his feet as the game went to commercial, and ambled into the kitchen to grab a beer.
He clapped a hand on Kurt’s shoulder as he pasted, and said off-hand “I just hope he’s worth it.” Kurt rolled his eyes. Long gone were the days when he could hide things from his dad.
Kurt’s distraction persisted through the following day. He wondered if Blaine felt the same, if the boy was staring off out the windows of his classes, thinking about Kurt. Of course, there was no guarantee Kurt would get his answer today. He’d told Blaine to take as much time as he needed to be sure and he’d meant it. If that meant waiting days, he would.
That didn’t mean he didn’t want Blaine to rush into his arms them moment he opened the door to the subhouse and beg Kurt to take him away from here. Instead, what he found was Blaine, sitting blindfolded but decidedly clothed, on the bed. His heart sank.
But then Blaine smiled in his direction, a small quirk of beautiful lips, and Kurt made himself take a breath. He made himself admire the lines of Blaine’s body in his simple polo and cardigan, take in the exterior Blaine presented to the world. If he was still dressed, there was a reason for it, and that reason didn’t have to be denial.
“Hello, Beautiful,” he murmured, letting the door click shut behind him. His heart swelled as Blaine’s smile grew.
“That’s the first thing you ever said to me, you know.”
Kurt did know. But now, for the first time ever, he felt unsure of what to do. The ball was firmly in Blaine’s court now, and by staying dressed he’d made sure it stayed that way.
Blaine took a deep breath, and began to speak, as if he’d rehearsed what he was going to say. “We should to talk about this, and we should do it as Kurt and Blaine, not as… a Dom and a sub. That’ll come later. I just… I’m having a hard time figuring out what I want- what I need- and talking to you always helps me with that. But I feel like if I’m naked it’ll be too easy to fall back to being your sub and… I just need to talk. If that’s okay?”
Kurt exhaled, and nodded, belatedly realizing that Blaine couldn’t see him. He walked over to the bed, reaching out to take Blaine’s hand in his. “Of course it’s okay.”
The hand in his fluttered a bit, then closed tightly, as Blaine began to speak again. “Kurt, I want to go with you. Know that, going into this, know that I want to be with you more than I’ve wanted anything in my life.”
Kurt’s heart jumped, and he reigned it in. “But..?”
Blaine exhaled, and some of the tension in his body seemed to leak out, shoulders slumping. “But I’m scared.”
Admitting that, trusting Kurt enough to admit that, must have been so hard for Blaine. Carefully, mindful of the way his touches affecting Blaine as a sub, he reached up to run his hand down Blaine’s cheek. Not to put him under, just to comfort. “What scares you?”
“My family’s disapproval? They might cut me off for this. Which, honestly, I don’t think that in itself is the worst thing in the world. My parents aren’t that good at being parents to me, and I think Cooper would be on my side.”
“I’m sure he would,” Kurt soothed, running his thumb over Blaine’s cheek. Blaine’s head turned against his palm, lips pressing against it in a kiss. Kurt smiled. He loved it when Blaine did that. “What else?”
Blaine was quiet for a minute, then he spoke again. “I’m a little scared of getting swallowed up into your life. I know… I know you want what’s best for me. But I’m scare of what will happen if I just step into the life you already have there and then what if we don’t work out? What if we have to break the claim, and then I’m stuck in New York and I don’t just lose you, I lose everything I know?”
As much as Kurt would have liked to dismiss the fears off hand, he took a moment to stop, and really think about what Blaine was saying. Only then did he reply. “Blaine… you getting swallowed up into my life? That’s not what I want. I never wanted a sub who was just there to be a fixture in my life. I want to share what I have with you, and I want you to be mine. But that never means I don’t want you to have a life of your own, friends of your own, goals and accomplishments outside me. Of course I want you to have those things, baby.”
Blaine took a deep, shuddering breath, and Kurt just had to kiss him. Blaine’s lips tasted warm and soft and familiar, and Kurt could feel Blaine’s smile against his. That wasn’t quite enough to assuage the fears, though. “What if I don’t find any friends? What if I’m not good enough to have those things you want for me.”
“You’re so much more than good enough, Blaine,” Kurt promised, dipping in for another quick kiss. “And if you’re miserable in New York, we’ll leave. We’ll go to LA, or Chicago, or London. But I don’t think you will be. New York has something for everyone.”
“I love you,” Blaine said in response, tipping his head on to Kurt’s shoulder. “Yes. Yes, Kurt, I want to be yours.”
It was such an incredible thing to hear, something he never thought he’d want, much less get and be happy about. Blaine wanted to be his. There were so many things to take care of, they needed to talk to their families, both of them together. They needed to write a contract and make the claim official, which meant dealing with the subhouse that currently held a contract with Blaine.
None of that seemed important though. It felt like the real claim, the important part, had happened last night when he’d fucked Blaine bare for the first time. That was the real claim, the moment they both knew that Blaine was Kurt’s. The marker and the contract, all of that was secondary now.
Still there was one more thing he needed to do. Gently, he lifted Blaine’s head of his shoulder. “I want to take your blindfold off, Beautiful. Is that alright?”
Blaine seemed to hesitate for a minute, before answering quietly “Yes.”
Kurt reached up, arms slipping around Blaine to reach for the knot tied against the back of his head. It gave easily under his fingers, but he held it in place, tilting Blaine’s head up so he could press a single kiss to the cloth covered bridge of his nose. Blaine smiled, and Kurt let the fabric fall away.
Blaine blinked up at him with gorgeous amber eyes full of so much feeling, and Kurt couldn’t help but smile.
Seeing his Dom, his Kurt, the man he’d just promised to give his life and heart to, for the first time was an experience Blaine would never forget.
“You’re you!” He blurted, and Kurt laughed, perfectly sculpted eyebrows raising in curiosity. God, he was even more gorgeous than Blaine remembered. “I mean, I thought, when you came to Glee club, maybe… your voice sounded familiar. But I didn’t think it could be, because why would you want me?”
Kurt’s face clouded a bit at that, and immediately Blaine felt bad. Kurt had just given him so much, and-
“Blaine, stop over thinking.” Kurt’s voice cut through the frenzy of panic building in his brain. He bowed his head, submission, but then Kurt’s hand was cupping his cheek, lifting it up. “I’m still me, Blaine. You know me. Better than anyone.”
“That’s because I’m yours.” It was a cheeky thing to say, and he couldn’t help but smirk a little as he said it. It just felt so good, so right, he couldn’t stop thinking it. Yours.
“Yes, you are.” Kurt’s eyes were bright, he smiled all the way up to them. That was something Blaine had never guessed, never thought to imagine. Kurt was so much more, real and here and present, than Blaine could ever imagine. His hair was brown, lighter than Blaine’s own but still dark, styled but soft looking. His skin was pale, the two of them must contrast so nicely together. Blaine looked forward to getting to see that. To being with Kurt and being able to see him.
His heart was rushing in his ears, he couldn’t focus really, overwhelmed by the reality of the situation pushing in on him. He was wanted, he was claimed, maybe not officially yet but that would come. He had Kurt, and a life in New York, away from this town and this subhouse which still held so many of his ghosts.
As always, Kurt’s fingers in his hair grounded him, relaxing him immediately. He looked up at Kurt’s face, and reveled in being able to do so. His Dom’s features were painted with care and curiosity. “Are you okay, Beautiful?”
Blaine hesitated, but responded honestly. “A little overwhelmed. No less sure of what I want,” he reassured when Kurt made a worried sound. “I’m just… in love with you. And I didn’t think I’d ever have that. This. Any of this.”
Kurt’s smile was bright, a little sad, but strong enough to make Blaine want to smile too. “I love you.” Blaine would never get tired of hearing it.
There were, of course, things to do. Blaine felt too disjointed to play that day, giddy on Kurt and the wonderful possibility of his new life. He told Kurt this, and his Dom simply nodded, kissing Blaine and pulling him in for a close hug. It had seemed to Blaine that he couldn’t feel any happier, but having Kurt respect his request unquestioningly felt like a promise of how good life could be.
“Do you want to officially exit your contract with the house before we leave?” Kurt asked him as they exited the room. “It’ll mean you can’t come back here, even if we don’t head to New York right away.”
Blaine smiled, reaching out until he could snag Kurt’s hand with his. This was the first time they’d ever left at the same time, he realized. “I don’t need to. What I need isn’t here anyway.”
That drew a grin from Kurt’s face. He brought their linked hands up to his lips, brushing a simple kiss against the back of Blaine’s hand. The skin tingled, even after the feeling of Kurt’s breath faded. Flushed, Blaine looked down at his shoes, pleased.
Breaking the contract with the house was fairly simple. It would have been more complicated if they’d both been minors, in which case Blaine’s parents would have had to sign off for him. The house contracts had clauses to prevent minors from breaking the contracts on their own, with the intention of discouraging teenagers from rushing into claims.
As it stood, Kurt was legally an adult, and therefore could file an Intent to Claim form, which would push through a lot of the paper work they would have had to deal with otherwise. All Blaine had to do was sit through a brief interview to ensure he wasn’t being forced into a claim he didn’t want, and sign a Contract Nullification Form. Just like that, it was over. He couldn’t come back to this house again without filing for a new contract. But he would never have too.
Kurt was waiting for him when he left the interview room, leaning against a wall and tapping on his phone. Blaine took a moment to quietly observe the lines of Kurt’s body. He was so long, legs that seemed to go on for miles crossed lazily with one ankle hooked over the other. His clothing was impeccable, but Blaine would expect nothing less. His lips were a generous curve, the lower one currently caught between his teeth in concentration, beautiful impossibly-colored eyes cast down on the phone in his hands. Even his hair seemed to defy gravity, Blaine noticed dumbly.
Then Kurt glanced up, catching him looking, and a smile spread across his face. Blaine could feel his heart skip. Was that ever going to stop, he wondered? Would there come a day when Kurt didn’t make him feel so much? He hoped not.
Kurt reached for his hand again as they left the house, his fingers lacing through Blaine’s like they were meant to be there. The walk to Kurt’s rental car was fairly short, and then he had to release Kurt’s hand so he could climb in the car.
“So,” Kurt began once he was settled behind the steering wheel, “Your place or mine first?”
“What do you mean?”
“We should talk to our families. Yours, because I really should ask their permission to claim you, mine because… well, I want to show you off.”
Blaine smiled at that, but it was short lived. “What if they don’t. Give you permission, I mean. My father…” he flinched, thinking about the arguments he’d had so often recently. He looked down at his lap, fingers twisting against his thighs.
Then Kurt’s hand was running across the back of his head and down his neck, soothing. “Doesn’t matter,” Kurt said softly. “You’ve had your sickness, that means legally you can choose your own claims. And we’re already bonded, baby, even if things aren’t official yet. You’re all mine, and I’m not letting you go, not unless you want me too.”
Blaine took a deep breath. “My family first, then.”
There was a 15 minute drive from the subhouse to Blaine’s parents house. They passed the time flipping through the radio, windows down with wind blowing through their hair. Kurt sang beautifully, equally familiar with pop hits as he was with classics. His voice enraptured Blaine.
For the first time in longer than he could remember, Blaine felt loose and happy. It was different than he felt at school, carefully picking and choosing the bits of himself he was willing to display. It was different as well from how he felt down on his knees for Kurt, a less focused kind of calm. It was just… happiness.
Of course, it wasn’t that easy. Deeply ingrained hurt didn’t just go away because you’re happy, and the closer they got to Blaine’s house, the quieter he grew. Sure, he’d always fantasized about Dom sweeping into his life and taking him out of that house. The reality of the situation was a lot more terrifying. All he wanted was for his parents to be happy for him. Why did that have to feel so impossible?
Both his parent’s cars where in the garage when they pulled up the paved driveway. That was lucky, he supposed. Better to get it all done in one go.
“This is a nice house,” Kurt said as he switched off the ignition.
Blaine just shrugged. “It’s really big for three people.”
The jitters kicked in the minute he stepped out of the car. But then Kurt’s hand was in his, and he could do this. He had the chance for at life with Kurt, and that wouldn’t change no matter what happened.
“Mom, Dad!” He called as they stepped into the foyer, his voice echoing off the walls.
“We’re in the drawing room, Blaine!” His mother called back.
Kurt raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Drawing room?” he mouthed. Blaine rolled his eyes, nudging Kurt in the ribs.
The smile on his face faded as he lead Kurt through the house. His parents were settled as they often were, his mother reading, his father doing something business related on his laptop. Oh god, this was it.
“Mom, Dad… there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” He hated the way his voice shook, how it took everything he had to keep the rest of him from shaking as well. Desperately he fished his hand backwards, reaching for Kurt. His Dom’s fingers slipped through his, and he drew courage from it. Both his parents glanced up from what they were doing, he could see their eyes taking in Kurt and their clasped hands. “This is Kurt. He’s… he’s a Dom. We’ve been- he wants claim me.”
Blaine knew he was squeezing Kurt’s hand hard enough to hurt. Still, no one spoke. Eventually, his father shut the lid on his computer, standing to survey Kurt with an unreadable expression on his face. “You met at that… subhouse?” He asked shortly, the distain evident in his voice. It sank into Blaine, and he knew already how this was going to go. He wanted to disappear.
“Yes,” he said quietly, his voice shaking slightly. Kurt, as if sensing Blaine was barely keeping it together, stepped up closer, his body solid next to Blaine.
Blaine’s father nodded, and looked down to shuffle some papers around on the table. He didn’t look up as he spoke, voice overly calm “And how much older than you is he?”
“I’m 26,” Kurt said, speaking for the first time. “I know that means I’m a good deal older than Blaine, but it also means I have a good job and I have enough financial security that he’ll be free to explore his own interests and-”
“And you want to claim him?” Blaine’s father cut Kurt off. “Take him away from here and make him your bitch?”
“No! Well, yes I want to claim him, but-”
“And this is what you want, Blaine? What kind of man bends over for someone 10 years older than him? You filthy little whore!”
The words hit like a punch to the stomach, made Blaine reel and want to fold in on himself. Whore, worthless, filthy, used, the words overwhelmed him. But then Kurt, wonderful Kurt, was stepping forward, pulling Blaine behind him protectively as if he could shield him from the words.
“Don’t you ever speak to my sub like that again.” Kurt’s voice was a hiss, Blaine had never heard him sound so powerful or so dangerous. It made Blaine’s legs weak, made him want to drop to his knees at Kurt’s feet, but he held firm. Glancing his mother, he could see she felt it too, some kind of battle for control between the two Dom’s in the room.
“Blaine, go start packing what you want to take,” Kurt instructed calmly, his voice still so full of power. “You’re coming with me. Tonight. We can come back some other time to get the rest.”
He’d never been so glad to obey an order. He escaped the room quickly, darting up the stairs to his bedroom. It wasn’t until the door had close behind him that he realized how badly he was shaking. Giving in to instinct, he sank to his knees, longing for the cool oblivion of going under. How nice it would be to float, to trust control of himself and his needs to someone else and just feel safe. He would get up and start packing in a minute, he promised himself, just a minute.
He was still on his knees when Kurt knocked on the door, and stepped into the room. It was costing Blaine a lot of effort to stop shaking, remain calm and collected in his own head. When Kurt walked over to him, he just stopped trying. “Please,” he begged.
Kurt’s hand in his hair made him look up, tilting his face up towards his Dom. “It’s alright Beautiful, you can let go.”
Blaine’s eyes slipped closed and he drifted, safe in the hands of his Dom.
When he came back too, he was still kneeling on the floor, his head pillowed on Kurt’s thigh where he was sitting on the bed. The shaky feeling had abated, he felt present in his body again, enough to wonder what Kurt had said to his parents. Lifting his head, he saw Kurt smiling down at him, a patient, caring smile. Loving. He shivered.
“What-” he started to ask, and then cut himself off. He didn’t know what he was trying to ask. Luckily, Kurt seemed too.
“You’re free to come with me, if that’s what you want. There’s plenty of room for you at my parents house until we leave, I’ll get you to school and everything. You’re mother would like to see you whenever you’d like, while we’re here and when we come back to visit. Your father has agreed that if he can not change his tone it’s no longer necessary for him to be a part of your life.” Kurt’s voice was cold at the end, making it clear exactly what he thought of Blaine’s dad. Blaine took a moment to process this, surprised by how little he felt the loss of his father.
“He has agreed,” Kurt continued “To allow your mother to come visit New York occasionally, since both you and your brother are there. It’s not his place to dictate if she sees her children, if you ask me, but…”
Blaine smiled at this, nuzzling his head a little against Kurt’s leg. “It’s traditional.”
“It’s subphobic and stupid,” Kurt correctly primly, but he was smiling slightly and resumed petting Blaine’s hair. “I don’t want you to ever think I’m going to stop you from seeing people you care about or doing things you like.”
“I know you won’t,” Blaine assured, revealing in the feeling of fingers stroking his hair. It really was the best feeling.
Kurt smiled, leaning down to steal a kiss. He pulled away and, squeezing Blaine’s shoulder, said “C’mon, you. Let’s get you packed.”
It really didn’t take much time at all. Kurt took charge of packing clothes, and Blaine left him too it, knowing that he would just come around behind and repack if Blaine didn’t fold his clothes correctly. Instead, Blaine focuses on the bookshelves, packing as many of the books he didn’t want to leave behind into his school bag as possible. Kurt said they could come back to get more stuff, but he took as many as possible all the same. His laptop and cellphone were already in Kurt’s car, along with what schools supplies weren’t in his locker, so he just grabbed chargers and some CDs.
“You have a lot of bow ties,” Kurt observed, and Blaine shrugged, flushing a little.
“I like having something against my throat,” he admitted.
“Really?” Kurt asked, arching an eyebrow with interest, as if he was filing the information away for later. He didn’t comment any further though, just finished packing what he could of Blaine’s clothes into the two suitcases.
It was weird leaving his parents house with the intention of never living there again. Blaine was sad, for a moment, as he mourned the childhood he was leaving here - Bike rides in the driveway and piano lessons in the living room… but all those things were overshadowed by the dark gray cloud of unfulfilled expectations. No, he couldn’t be sad to leave that.
That didn’t stop him from being quiet on the ride to Kurt’s house, head slumped against the glass of the window. He could see Kurt’s repeated glances out of the corner of his eye. Mostly he just felt tired.
“Are we doing the right thing, Blaine?” Kurt asked quietly. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Even Dom’s second guess themselves, he thought. “I’m sure.” It was all he could give right now. Kurt reached out, taking his hand, and he let it ground him.
Meeting Kurt’s family went a lot better. Blaine was swept up into an enormous mothering hug by Kurt’s stepmother (Call me Carole, dear, please), and Kurt’s father looked him up and down once before pulling him into a hug as well. Blaine couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged so much.
Blaine knew Kurt’s family had been bugging him to claim a sub for a while, so he hadn’t exactly been worried about being unwelcome. All the same, it was strange to be immediately folded into a family, like there had been a place there for him all along. Dinner was a fantastic and strange experience, learning about Kurt’s family as they learned about him. It didn’t seem to phase them that he was young. Kurt’s father, who apparently had worked in Congress for some time when Kurt was in high school, offered to help them with the paperwork which would facilitate Blaine’s school transfer.
It wasn’t until Kurt and his father disappeared after post-dinner clean up was done that Blaine started to get nervous. Carole, noticing him watching them walk away, smiled and guided Blaine to sit on the couch. “Kurt hasn’t talked about you much. Let them have their time, they’ve got a lot to talk about.”
He nodded. “They’re close, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Carole agreed. “Burt pretty much raised Kurt by himself. Kurt’s mom died when he was small, and by the time I met them, Kurt was almost grown. Burt was only willing to take a sub again because Kurt practically told him too.”
Blaine smiled, watching the silhouette of the two men through the door. “He’s a good Dom,” Blaine muttered, more to himself than to Carole.
“I’m sure he is. But he’s still… as good as he is at taking care of people, sometimes he needs to be taken care of too. To be reminded to stop working so hard, or to eat when he’s busy, or to just have fun occasionally. He needs someone who can do that.”
Carole was focused on him now, and he flushed under the intensity of her gaze. “I think I can. I… I can. I can be good for him, be what he needs.”
Carole’s expression softened. “I’m sure you can, sweetie. He wouldn’t claim you if you couldn’t.”
He talked with Carole for a while, a little bit addicted to the fact that when she asked him about school she actually seemed interested. But then, she had raised a son on her own, and regardless of what she said, Kurt as well. Blaine felt safe with her. He wasn’t really used to feeling safe with people.
Eventually, Kurt and his dad wandered back into the room. Burt flicked on the television, tuning in to some game or another, and Kurt muttered something about certain things never changing. The whole atmosphere of the house was warm, calming. It made him sleepy. Cautiously, overly aware of Burt and Carole, Blaine curled up on the couch next to Kurt, head pillowed in his lap. Fingers stroked his hair immediately, only adding to the feeling of calm. “Good boy,” Kurt murmur, and Blaine sighed.
He was so tired, so wrung out from the past couple days. He was safe, wanted and loved. It was so easy to get lost in the rhythmic motions of Kurt’s hand in his hair. It was so easy just to… fall asleep.
Kurt had never woken up next to someone before. At least, not like this, in this context, with a head pillowed on his chest and familiar arms clinging to his body. In all his years of sexual activity, he’d never had someone stay the night, woken up beside them.
Or under them, he thought with a smile. He’d carried Blaine up from the couch last night, laying him down on the left side Kurt’s old bed before crawling in next to him. At some point in the night Blaine had worked his way over until he was curled tight around Kurt, head tucked against his collarbone.
Blaine was still asleep, but he began to stir when Kurt scratched his fingers gently through his hair. The vibrations of a happy sigh rumbled against Kurt’s chest and he smiled, waves of fondness crashing through him. “Good morning, baby.”
Blaine hummed, squirming a little until he could tilt his face up to see Kurt, one eye adorably wrinkled with sleep. “Hi.”
Heedless of morning breath, Kurt leaned down for a kiss, reveling in the give of Blaine’s mouth, the way his boy just opened up for him. It made him shiver, want to pin Blaine down and make him beg. But they had to set a contract today, and he couldn’t let himself get carried away before they did that.
He pulled back again, running a hand down Blaine spine to sooth his noise of protest. “I know I shouldn’t be asking you to skip school, but we have contracts and things to take care of, and I’d really rather not do it when my parents are home.” He made a face, feeling like a teenager trying to sneak sex past his parents. But this wasn’t about hiding sex, it was about creating a safe environment for Blaine where he could be honest and open about himself. He suspected Blaine would have a harder time of that if he thought anyone but Kurt could hear him.
Blaine’s smile was easy, less sleepy but no less relaxed. “I never miss school, I think I’m allowed to this once. Given the circumstances.”
“Alright. But we won’t make a habit of it,” Kurt teased. Curling his arm around Blaine’s shoulders in support, he rolled them over until Blaine was underneath him. Blaine blinked up at him, hazel eyes wide and trusting. It was amazing, he marveled, having his sub like this, happy and loose in his bed. He leaned in for a kiss, marveling at the little whimper Blaine released. His body was singing, god he wanted to play, still riding the high off of the unofficial claim. But there would be time for that after.
Using all the will he could muster, Kurt drew back to look down at his sub. Blaine was flushed, dazed looking. It would be so easy to push just the right way, make him slip under… “God, you’re so mine.”
Blaine groaned, eyes slipping shut, and he arched beautifully, body pressing up against Kurt’s. Frustrated, but determined, Kurt leaned down for another quick kiss then drew away completely, moving up and turning to sit next to Blaine on the bed.
“Not fair,” Blaine whined a little, pouting. Kurt just laughed, reaching out a hand to pull Blaine up until he was sitting too.
“I know, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” Blaine grinned at that, and Kurt could tell it still meant so much to him, knowing he was wanted.
He reached out for Blaine, taking his hand and fixing him with a serious gaze. “I need you to do something for me. We’re going to shower and get dressed, then I’m going to make us breakfast, then we’re going to sit down and write our contract. I need you to think, really think, about what you want and need from me. Not want you think you should want or need, but what you really do. You’re going to need to be able to tell me your limits, what you’re willing to work towards and what you absolutely do not want. I know some Doms like to leave the contracts pretty vague, but I’d rather go back and revise at a later date than risk hurting you. Okay, Beautiful?”
Kurt smiled, reaching up to twirl one of Blaine’s curls around his finger. “Thank you. There’s one more thing.” He hesitated here, coming back to the subject he’d dwelt on last night as Blaine slept in his lap. “The other day, when I was waiting for your decision about this, I was kind of going crazy waiting so… I bought a marker. I know it’s traditional for the claim marker to be a gift from a Dom to their sub, but the yesterday you mentioned… it’s not a collar, but if you want one, we could get you one.”
Blaine blinked, looking surprised and touched. “You bought me a marker? Before I even said yes?”
Kurt flushed, a little embarrassed. “Yeah. I found something I liked, that would look amazing on you. But it’s not a collar, and if that would be good for you, then we can get one-”
Blaine cut him off with a kiss, grinning against Kurt’s mouth. “I’ll love it. I’m sure I’ll love it.”
Laughing, Kurt pushed Blaine away. “I’m sure you will too. But that’s not what I was saying.”
“I know.” Blaine tilted his head, thinking. “Maybe… maybe later, we could get a collar? Not as a marker, just for us? When we play.”
Nodding early, Kurt agreed. That was perfect, something for just the two of them. The imagine of Blaine naked save for a collar, on his knees for Kurt made heat flair in his groin. That was definitely something to look into.
Shaking the thought from his mind, Kurt leaned in for a final kiss, then dragged himself away from Blaine so he could shower. The physical effects of the claim where affecting him, he knew it. The desire to keep Blaine close (naked, sweating, whimpering, begging, under, submissive, MINE) was almost overwhelming. He could only imagine how Blaine must be feeling.
Resolving to make this as quick and painless as possible, Kurt cut his normally half hour long shower routine down to about 10 minutes. He stole another kiss from Blaine as they passed each other on the way out of the bathroom, dressed quickly, then channeled all his excess energy into making perfect crêpes sucrées.
By the time Blaine descended the stairs into the kitchen, Kurt had a perfect stack of light, golden crepes topped with powdered sugar and fresh strawberries waiting on the table.
“That smells amazing, Kurt.”
Smiling, Kurt glanced up, and felt his breath catch in his throat. Blaine looked amazing. His hair was lightly styled, a mix between the loose falling curls he was used to seeing at the subhouse and the careful slicked back way Blaine presented himself to the world. He was wearing a simple polo, which hugged his body in the most amazing way, and bright pants, no socks or shoes. He looked composed, happy and comfortable. Kurt had never seen him look like this.
Emotion rose up hot and bright in Kurt, and he had to press his hands to the counter to keep them from shaking. He’d give anything, do anything, to be able to keep making Blaine look like this.
“Hey,” Blaine murmured, stepping closer, hand landing lightly on Kurt’s hip. “What is it, what’s wrong.”
The breath he’d been holding released in a quiet laugh, and he turned to wrap Blaine in a hug. “I’m just a little overwhelmed. By how much I love you.”
“Oh.” The word was soft, barely audible, but Kurt could feel Blaine’s smile against his neck. “I love you too.”
“I know.” Drawing back, Kurt pressed a kiss to Blaine’s forehead. “Come on, let’s eat.”
The crepes were delicious, of course they were, but Kurt barely paid attention to what he was eating. They talked, in the way they usually only got to naked and sated in a bed that didn’t belong to either of them. By the time the conversation had petered out, their plates were long since empty and the sun was high in the sky.
Blaine offered to do the dishes, and Kurt took him up on the offer, taking the opportunity to draw together the papers they need to file their contract. He also grabbed the simple grey box containing the marker he’d bought. He smiled, rubbing his finger along the hinge of the box.
Eventually they settled next to each other on the couch in the living room, face to face with their knees touching.
“Have you been thinking? About what you need from me?”
Blaine nodded, but he seemed hesitant. “It’s hard for me. To do this. I… It might be easier to start with what I don’t want?”
“Okay,” Kurt agreed easily, rubbing Blaine’s knee in reassurance. Blaine smiled at him briefly, a thank you, and Kurt settled, willing to give Blaine as much time as he needed.
“I don’t want you to have final say in any part of my life besides sex.” Blaine began, but he still seemed hesitant. “I might need… guidance, or someone to lean on, if I’m feeling overwhelmed, but I want to be able to make my own choices.”
He seemed nervous, like Kurt would deny him that. “Of course. I don’t want to run your life, baby.”
Blaine shrugged one shoulder, not meeting Kurt’s eyes. “Some Doms do.”
“Not me. You know me better than that.”
Blaine relaxed a little at that, laughing a short, embarrassed laugh. “You’re right. I do.”
Kurt marked it down in the contract, trying to ignore the anger at all the Dom’s out there who needed to control every aspect of their sub’s life. It wasn’t justified anger, he knew there were subs who needed that. But the idea of Blaine thinking that was what was expected from him was upsetting. “What else?”
“No blood,” Blaine said immediately. “I’m willing to… explore other kinds of pain but I’d really rather it be saved for punishments. At least for now. If I want it, I’ll figure out a way to ask for it. But no blood.”
Nodding, Kurt marked ‘bloodplay’ in as a hard limit, and made a note for himself to only use pain as a punishment. “Thank you. I don’t like the idea of cutting you, so I don’t think we’re going to have a problem with that one.”
Blaine laughed softly. He seemed to be working up to something, and Kurt reached out, taking his hands, rubbing the tension of his palms. Eventually he spoke. “I’m open to dirty talk, I love it when you talk to me and tell me how I’m doing but… I’d rather if you didn’t… call me a whore or degrade me. I know some people think it’s hot but I’ve just had too much-”
“Blaine, breath,” Kurt cut him off, heart aching. “You don’t need to justify yourself to me. No humiliation. Okay.”
The way Blaine was looking at him made Kurt think he couldn’t quite believe it was that simple. Kurt marked ‘humiliation’ as a hard limit, and looked back up at his sub, thumb rubbing across his knuckles.
“That’s really all I actively don’t want. I’m willing to try almost anything else with you. Just… if it’s completely new, can we talk about it first?”
Kurt’s head spun for a moment, momentarily trying imagining all the thing could fit into ‘willing to try’. He wanted everything with this boy. “Of course we can. Is there anything in particular you do want? Apart from as a reward, just things you want to try or explore further?”
Blaine thought for a moment, and Kurt watched in fascination as his cheeks flushed, the shy smile that spread across his lips. “I think I’d like to try more without condoms. Just… have you come in me, or on me… I think that’d be something I want.”
Heat spread through Kurt’s body at that, god, he wanted that too. So much. “Yes,” he agreed, marking emphatically on the contract. Blaine laughed at him, and Kurt leaned in for a kiss just to shut him up. “Anything else?”
Blaine shrugged. “Nothing else I want to specify. I trust you to know what I need.” The words made Kurt shiver in pride. “What about you? You’re allowed to have wants and limits too.”
He thought about it for a minute. Generally he just wanted Blaine to be his, and to be able to give him what he needed. There were a couple things, maybe… “I’d like to try bondage again. Only when you’re comfortable with it, we’ll work up to it. I want you to feel safe, not trapped, but can I set that as a goal for us? Because I’d really like to be able to tie you down and ride you.”
Blaine’s eyes glazed over for a minute, Kurt could tell he was picturing it, and he couldn’t help but giggle when Blaine nodded. “Yeah, we can work towards that.”
“Thank you,” Kurt smiled, marking down his want. “As for limits… I don’t want to gag you. I don’t want to be in a position where I feel like you couldn’t tell me something if you need too.”
“Okay,” Blaine agreed. “That wouldn’t bother me, really, but if it would make you uncomfortable, I’m fine foregoing it.”
Smiling gratefully, Kurt marked it down. “Also, I don’t… I don’t want there to be anyone but us involved in this. I know some Dom’s like to share their subs, but I really don’t want that.”
Blaine looked stricken, like he hadn’t even considered that as a possibility. “No, yeah, I agree. Just-just you, please.”
“Good.” Kurt marked it down, quelling the surge of jealousy that exploded in his chest at the idea of sharing Blaine with anyone else. On to the next part. “So, safewords?”
He watched Blaine think, allowing himself to get momentarily distracted by the way Blaine’s skin looked in the sun stream through the window. He tuned back in when Blaine started to speak. “Can we keep the system from the house? Yellow for slow down, Red for stop? It’s familiar.”
That made a certain amount of sense, and Kurt said so, marking that on the contract as well. “Anything else, baby?”
Blaine shook his head. “Just… the collar, maybe. Working towards that.”
Smiling, Kurt made note of it. He scanned the legal document, making sure there wasn’t anything omitted. They could work up a personal contract later with specific things to work on if they needed too, but it seemed like Blaine was willing to trust him. He had to admit he’d prefer it that way, being able to work through things together without a piece of paper dictating the speed they went at. Everything looked to be in order.
Taking a deep breath, he hovered his pen over the line saying “Dominant”. This was a moment he’d never thought he’d have. Letting his pen fall to the paper, he looped his signature across it.
Smiling, he looked up at Blaine, who was watching him with bright eyes, happy and relaxed. Holding out the paper and pen, he asked “You ready for this?”
In response, Blaine reached out and took the contract, signing his name at the bottom next to Kurt’s with a flourish. Submissive: Blaine Anderson. Just looking at the words made Kurt shiver.
Blaine handed the contract back to him, a peaceful smile on his face. “I belong to you now.”
Kurt leaned in to kiss him then, couldn’t not. “I love you so much, Blaine.”
Blaine laughed, eyes looking a little damp. “I’m getting that, yeah.”
Setting their contract on the table in front of the sofa, Kurt reached for the grey box, nervousness and excitement battling in his chest as he handed it off to Blaine. Claim markers could be a number of things, cuffs, collars, rings. (Carole had a ring, so had Kurt’s mother. Burt kept Elizabeth’s old marker on a chain in his bedroom) Kurt had always thought he’d get his sub a ring, if he ever took a sub.
But when it came down to it, he knew Blaine needed something more substantial. Kurt watched the expression on Blaine’s face as he opened the box, revealing the dark brown cuff inside. It was made of supple leather, with soft edges that wouldn’t chafe against his skin. “Oh Kurt, it’s gorgeous.”
“Take it out,” Kurt urged. Blaine pulled the leather band out of the box, turning it over in his hand to reveal the final surprise. Engraved into the leather, just dark enough to be read in it’s elegant script, was one word: Beautiful.
Tears filled Blaine’s eyes, and Kurt scooted forward to take the cuff from Blaine’s trembling fingers. He unclasped it, taking Blaine’s wrist in his hand so he could wrap the leather around it. The brown of the leather contrasted stunningly with his tan skin. It was simple, and lacked ornamentation except for the clasp and the word, but it would work well with Blaine’s style.
“Now you’ll always know that you’re wanted. And that you’re beautiful.”
The tears in Blaine’s eyes spilled over, and Kurt gathered in him close, cradling his sub against his chest. Blaine’s fingers fisted into his shirt, and Kurt rocked him, murmuring softly into his hair.
“It’s perfect. You’re perfect, Kurt,” Blaine said into his neck, and Kurt smiled.
“So are you, Beautiful. My perfect boy.”
There was nothing left to do then, besides to take Blaine up to his bed and strip him down. Kurt pressed his sub into the mattress with a command to hold still, and proceeded to kiss him absolutely everywhere. Eventually he settled between Blaine’s raised and spread thighs, licking purposefully over the quivering muscles of his hole. As helpless cries fell from Blaine’s mouth, Kurt felt possession curl hot and simmering in his stomach.
Blaine was his, to love and care for and fuck and command and support. That was just about the best feeling in the world.
It took another month before they could return to New York. The paperwork which would allow Blaine to transfer schools was slow moving, and Kurt was reluctant to pull Blaine out of his old life before he was prepared for it. They couldn’t put it off forever, though. Kurt had a business to get back to, and the reality of being a claimed pair and living with your parents was even more frustrating than Kurt would have thought.
In the intervening weeks, they began the process of moving Blaine’s life into another state. Several afternoons, when they could be sure Blaine’s father was at work, they spent packing boxes from the Anderson house to be shipped to Kurt’s loft in New York. This also gave Kurt the chance to get to know Blaine’s mother, who had a quiet kindness to her, even if she came off as cold and indifferent at first.
It became apparent to Kurt, the quiet devotion she had to her son, the fellow sub she’d done the best she could to protect. As much as Blaine might feel overshadowed by his brother, Kurt could see that Blaine held a special place for his mother that Cooper could never have. It almost made him feel bad for taking Blaine away from her. He couldn’t help but wonder what her life would be now. The Dom inside him ached at the idea of leaving her alone in that situation. But she wasn’t his, and he knew any pull he felt for her was purely an extension of his connection with Blaine. That didn’t really make him feel better.
Blaine, for his part, seemed eager to start his new life. As much as Kurt worried about rushing his sub, he caught Blaine several times staring off into space, a vague but pleasant smile on his face. When asked, he’d admit to having been daydreaming about this or that aspect of life in New York.
It seemed as if they were hanging on a precipice, on the verge of falling into something completely new, waiting only for something to come by and give them a push over the edge. That push came about 3 weeks after their claiming.
Neither of them had seen or spoken to Blaine’s father since the day Blaine left for good, so when the letter arrived in the mail it was completely out of blue. It was addressed to Kurt, not Blaine, and when Burt handed it over, Kurt couldn’t help the surge of fear. Was he contesting their claim? Blaine was old enough to make his own decision, but a lack of consent from the Dominant parent would probably be enough of pull a contest in an Ohio court.
Sparing a moment to be grateful that mail came during the hours Blaine was at school, Kurt opened the letter with trembling fingers. What he saw could not have been more unexpected. The envelope was empty aside from a check and a single slip of paper containing nothing but four words: “For a good school”
It was the closest thing to approval they were ever going to get, and Kurt felt a rush of gratitude. He wondered, for a moment, how much of a hand Blaine’s mother had in this. But in the end, it didn’t matter. The question of where to send Blaine for school had been weighing on them for a while now. It was narrowed down between the public school in Kurt’s residency zone, which wouldn’t really push Blaine the way he wanted, and private school Kurt couldn’t afford. (Blaine had offered to get a job, insisting he could help pull his own weight, but Kurt didn’t want to feel like he was stealing Blaine’s last years of childhood any more than he already did.)
Now, with the help of the father who’d resented him for the past three years, Blaine could go to school he wanted. Dalton was an all boys school that specialized in Sub-equality. It was pushing the envelope with it’s all-inclusive programs, and it opened doors for subs that had previously been closed to them. It also had special focus groups for claimed or abused subs that allowed them to connect with others in the same position as themselves, which appealed to Kurt. He didn’t know which group Blaine might need, but the idea that both were available was comforting.
After that, it was only a matter of officially enrolling Blaine in Dalton, and buying their plane tickets. As much as he wanted to savor the remaining time with his family, the days seemed to fly by Kurt faster than he could keep track of.
They were curled up in Kurt childhood bedroom for the last time, the day before they left, the only time Blaine admitted to being scared again. He’d been brave, incredibly strong Kurt was so proud of him, but they were really doing this now, and Kurt couldn’t blame him.
Blaine was tucked in against his side, naked save for the warm leather at his wrist, when he asked “What’s flying like?”
Kurt hummed softly, fingers exploring his sub’s smooth skin. “You’ve never flown before?”
Blaine shook his head. “I’ve taken a train to Chicago with my dad before, but I’ve never flown.”
Kurt shrugged. “It’s not that different. I mean, it’s in the air obviously. But basically you sit in a cramped seat for 4 to 6 hours, then you get off again.”
He could feel Blaine’s chuckled reverberate against his skin. “You make it sound so glamorous,” Blaine teased.
“You wanted glamour? Oh, you should have told me. I would have booked us a private jet. We would have to eat nothing but cereal for the next month to make up for it, mind, but anything for you.”
Blaine started laughing, full body laughs that crinkled up his eyes and shook his whole frame. Kurt couldn’t help laughing along, he was only human after all. Catching Blaine’s shoulders, he rolled them over until his could press his sub into the mattress and kiss the laughter right out of his mouth.
“God, we’re really doing this,” Blaine panted when they broke apart, looking up at Kurt with huge honey eyes. “A life together.”
Kurt settled down against Blaine, his forearms up resting on either side of Blaine’s head, holding his weight. He curled his hands in until he could bury his fingers in Blaine’s hair, scratching slightly against his scalp. Blaine’s eyes fluttered shut, which made Kurt smile. He would never get tired of the way Blaine responded to getting his hair played with.
“Yeah. A life together,” He confirmed, twisting a curl around his index finger. “You scared?”
“Of you? Never.”
Blaine’s eyes remained shut, lashes splayed in a beautiful bow across his cheeks. Kurt knew women who would kill for eyelashes like Blaine’s. Carefully, he leaned in, brushing a kiss over the soft skin of Blaine’s lids. They fluttered a little, but remain pliant, trusting. Kurt’s heart swelled in his chest at the simple act, so easy in its submission that it was unconscious. “Not of me. Of what?” He asked, leaning up to look at Blaine fully.
Blaine sighed. “Of the unknown, mostly.” His eyes did open then, meeting Kurt’s. “I don’t really know what to expect and it scares me.”
That was reasonable. As much as he might want dismiss Blaine’s fears, that wouldn’t be fair to him. Tenderly, he slide his fingers through Blaine’s hair, stroking against the grain until Blaine’s eyes slid shut again. “Whatever it is, you have me. I promise, I’ll take care of you.”
Blaine smiled, loose and relaxed. “I know.”
Of course, the relaxation couldn’t last. By the time they were waiting to board the plane the next day, Blaine was practically vibrating out of his skin. He seemed happy, though, so Kurt was reluctant to do anything to calm him. It wasn’t until he started literally bouncing from foot to foot that Kurt guessed this was the kind of restlessness he couldn’t reign in on his own.
Reaching out, Kurt hooked his hand around Blaine’s arm, two fingers slipping under the cuff to press against the delicate skin on the inside of his wrist. “Calm down, Beautiful,” He murmured lowly, and he could feel the excess energy drain out of Blaine’s body.
“Yes, Sir,” came the automatic response. Blaine shifted, tucking himself in close to Kurt’s side. Smiling, Kurt rubbed his thumb in soothing circles against Blaine’s skin, reward. Blaine smiled back, and settled more solidly against him. “No regrets?”
“No regrets,” Blaine promised.
By the time they were boarded and seated, the nervous had returned again. There wasn’t much Kurt could do, really besides pull Blaine against his side and hold him tight. But about 40 minutes into the flight the energy left him, and he drifted to sleep against Kurt’s shoulder. Content, Kurt rested his head against Blaine’s, happy to just be together.
Blaine got his first ever view of the New York skyline in a cab on the way to Kurt’s loft. He’d seen cities before, Columbus and Chicago mostly, but New York was something else. It was a little dirtier, a little grungier than he’d expected, but that only seemed to make it more real. Mostly he couldn’t believe he was here; that he lived here now. This was home.
The jitters hadn’t faded completely, but Kurt’s hand on his wrist kept him grounded. Kurt… he seemed to mold into the city, like it he was built for it, or had carved out a chunk of space exactly his size. He seemed more at home in his body that Blaine had ever seen him.
Which, of course, brought on the doubt. Blaine couldn’t help but feel he didn’t belong here, and surely Kurt was going to realize that sooner or later. It settled into Blaine’s chest like acid during the cab ride, but he bit it back, putting on a smile when Kurt pointed all the places he wanted to take Blaine. It stayed glued to his face when they got to Kurt’s loft (their loft, didn’t feel like it yet, but this was his home. Or it was supposed to be), during a dinner he felt too queasy to eat but passed away as jet lag.
Kurt spent almost an hour talking about all the places he wanted to visit tomorrow, and Blaine did his best to smile along, to be excited, to be good. The city brought Kurt to life in a way Blaine didn’t even know he’d been lacking. In just a couple of days, Blaine would be starting a new school, and Kurt would be back to work. Blaine knew Kurt had never wanted a sub before, what if he remember why now that he was back here?
The smile stayed on his face all night, and he tried, he did try to be genuinely excited. By the time Kurt wanted to call it a night, Blaine knew he was too twisted up in his own head to sleep. Still, Kurt’s fingers hooked into the cuff on his wrist, the playful smile on his lips ever so slightly tinged with concern (Blaine was good at hiding, he had a lot of practice, but he wasn’t good at hiding things from Kurt) and Blaine went.
He curled up on sheets he didn’t know, in the darkness that wasn’t really dark at all, with the false quiet of the city settling around him, and let Kurt hold him from behind. No matter how hard he tried to shut his brain off and sleep, the twisted ball of pain in his chest throbbed on. He lay awake long after Kurt’s breath evened out into sleep.
Eventually Blaine admitted defeat, and crawled out of bed. Kurt groaned a little, shifting around as if searching for him in his sleep, but he didn’t wake. Sighing, Blaine padded out into the main part of the loft. It really was a beautiful place, spacious enough but not so big as to feel empty. Kurt had entire wall devoted to work, with an angled sketching table and fabric sample board and everything. He walked over to it, smiling as he took in Kurt’s designs, tapped up to the wall around the table. He really was fantastic.
The artificial chill of the air conditioner raised goose bumps on Blaine’s skin, but he knew in it would be a blessing in the coming months when heat settled into the city. For the present, he let it ground him in his body, so maybe he could work out the tangled mess in his head.
The far right wall of the loft held several flood windows, all of which had cushioned window seats, and that was where he headed now. He curled up on one of the cushions, bare foot and pajama clad, arms wrapping around his knees tucked against his chest. He let his head tip against the glass, chill against his temple.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be here, he reasoned. It might be scary right now to have nothing at all familiar except the things he brought with him. And he wasn’t alone. He’d have teachers and classmates soon enough, and going to Dalton meant there was a chance he’d meet other subs like him, who had been claimed late or hadn’t been claimed yet. And also he had Kurt.
That was what was bothering him, he decided. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to be holding Kurt back somehow. Falling in love with Blaine in Lima, and Blaine did believe Kurt when he said he loved him, and continuing to love him in New York City were two very different things. Once Kurt was back at work and surrounded by fellow adults, wouldn’t he wonder what the hell he was thinking, tying himself to Blaine?
“Blaine?” Kurt’s voiced called out from the bedroom, and shit.
Blinking back the tears that had been welling in his eyes, he tried to summon the smile he’d had glued to his face earlier. It didn’t seem to come quite so easily this time, and he turned his head towards the window as Kurt wandered out.
“What’s wrong, Beautiful?” Kurt asked, and Blaine could hear him walked towards him. He was so accustomed to the sounds of Kurt.
“Nothing,” he lied, but his voice sounded wrong. Guilt about lying to his Dom compounded with the insecurity he was already feeling, and he pushed his temple harder against the glass. Dimply, he wondered if he could push hard enough to make it shatter.
Kurt stopped, and though Blaine could sense he was close by, he didn’t move or speak. The guilt throbbed hard and sore in his stomach, he’d never outright lied to Kurt before. “I’m just being stupid,” he amended, trying to ease the weight of it.
He didn’t know what to expect, Kurt’s hands stroking him to try and coax it out of him, or anger at the lie. But Kurt did neither of those things. The window seat creaked ever so slightly as Kurt settled across from him, and out of the corner of his eye Blaine could see Kurt settle down with his legs folded. He seemed content to wait, his eyes heavy on Blaine, and eventually Blaine turned his head back to face him.
“Something’s wrong,” Kurt stated, and Blaine sighed, his head falling down to stare at his knees.
“Don’t say you’re stupid, because you’re not,” Kurt cut him off. His voice had that authority it took on when he was consciously being a Dom, and Blaine’s jaw clicked shut before he could stop it. “What’s been bothering you?”
He wanted to dodge it. He wanted to deflect and avoid and not burden Kurt with his insecurities. But Kurt would see through that, and didn’t he owe Kurt honesty?
“I just… feel like you belongs here. And I don’t.”
“Well, that’s reasonable,” Kurt said mildly, and Blaine finally looked up at him. “You’ve only been here for about 10 hours. I’ve lived here for 10 years.”
Blaine snorted, unable to help himself, and Kurt smiled too. After a minute he asked “What can I do? To make this easier for you?”
He shrugged, eyes dropping back to his knees. “Nothing. It’s my issue.”
“Blaine, you’re my sub,” Kurt said gently. He reached out, and Blaine let Kurt take his hand. “You’re issues are my problem.”
“There’s nothing you can do, Kurt! Because you can’t fix my head, I’m always going to be like this, all fucked up and broken! I’m a mess, and it’s frustrating, and that just makes it worse. And you deserve better, and now that we’re here you’re going to remember that.” Kurt blinked, taken aback, and Blaine sighed again, regretting his outburst. “I’m sorry. It’s just… When I’m around you I can usually remind myself that I’m not thinking logically, but I’m having a hard time today.”
Kurt seemed to hesitate for a minute before he pulled gently but insistently on Blaine’s hand, uncrossing his legs so he could pull Blaine between them. Blaine went, sinking against Kurt’s chest with a sigh. Kurt’s arms wrapped around him, warmer than the blanket on the bed ever would be, strong and secure.
“I don’t want you to think there’s something wrong with you,” Kurt began, and Blaine snorted.
“There’s something wrong with me. I should be able to handle this, and I can’t.”
Kurt shushed him gently, and Blaine fell silent. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you now, or that I’ll only want you if you’re ‘fixed’. But Blaine, you’re… you’re precious to me. And I can give you love, and security, and guidance, and domination when you need it. But Dalton has programs that can help you with the rest of this. And I’m not going to tell you that you have to do it. I’ll be here to support you in whatever you choose, and to take care of you the best I can.
“But I’m not a psychologist, baby. I can love you, I can make sure I tell you every day that I want you, but I can’t do anything to make you believe it. I can’t command you to believe it. Sure, time might fix it. But there’s no shame in going to a support group or a counselor, if you don’t want to wait.”
Blaine took a shaky breath, pressing his cheek against Kurt’s chest. Having that option, knowing it was there, felt good. He didn’t know if he’d be strong enough, courageous enough, to actually do it. He was so used to ignoring the things that hurt. But Kurt had showed him a different way to live, where he didn’t have bury his problems or hide them from the people that loved him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice thick and wet.
Kurt pressed a kiss against his head, and started running his fingers through Blaine’s hair. He let it relax him, melting against Kurt’s body. “Please don’t apologize, Beautiful. And please don’t feel like you have to go through this alone. Tell me next time, don’t run away from me.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“I know,” Kurt said sadly. “But you’re strong. You can push through it.”
In that moment, with Kurt surrounding him (smell, feel, warmth, support, love), Blaine felt strong.