525,600 Minutes (‘Unwanted’ Sequel) || Klaine|| NC-17

Title: 525,600 Minutes
Word Count: ~32,000
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/kinks: Established age difference relationship, D/s ‘verse, shades of non-con, consensual bondage, orgasm denial, blindfolds and various power-plays that come inherent in a d/s verse.
Beta: i_should_study
A/N: I desperately need to thank a couple people here, so hang in there with me. Namely, I need to thank i_should_study and becauseofthelayersmyass for walking me through this and holding my hand when I couldn’t find my words. Finally, I need to thank EVERY SINGLE PERSON who’s commented, liked, reblogged, shared or messaged me about this ‘verse. This story would have died halfway through the first fic if not for you. THANK YOU from the very bottom of my heart for encouraging me and for reading my fic.

Summary: A year in the life of Kurt and Blaine. Sequel to Unwanted, picks up shortly after that left of.

How do you measure a year in the life?

Late nights

Nights were weird for Blaine.

It had been easy to fall in love with the city during the day. There was always something to do, somewhere to be, so many things happening at once. Dalton took up his weekdays, and Kurt took up his weekends. During the day, Blaine could distract himself with school, with meeting people and making friends, or letting Kurt take him by the hand and lead him through the wonders of a new life.

But nights were harder. For the first couple weeks, Kurt made sure he was always home when Blaine got back from school. It was nice, to settled down on the couch of the loft and do homework while Kurt worked on sketches at his desk. It was nice too, to curl up in front of the couch on his knees at Kurt’s feet, and let his Dom stroke his hair while Kurt read or answered emails on his laptop. It was new, simple submission, something entirely not sexual, but it grounded him. It was an easy pattern to fall into, another part of learning to be together.

But nights where hard, and sometimes Blaine still got that itch, like he didn’t belong here, like he wouldn’t be able to do this. He was learning to deal with it, slowly learning how to approach Kurt when he didn’t feel alright in his skin. Then Kurt would hold him, or help him slip under where the voices telling him he wasn’t good enough couldn’t reach.

Inevitably, though, Kurt had a crisis at work. It was really impressive they’d made it this long, to be honest, but when Blaine’s cell buzzed in his pocket on his way to glee club rehearsal (an all boys a cappella group, The Warblers, couldn’t be more different from the New Directions) it still made his heart drop.

Kurt’s frantic voice on the other end of the line, saying something about improper storage and a ruined fabric and needing to re-do half the collection tonight, snapped him out of it. Kurt sounded upset, panicked, like he was losing control. Blaine’s instinct as a sub was just to give, give Kurt as much control as he could, make his Dom feel better. He assured Kurt it was fine, he’d handled nights on his own before (in Ohio, not New York, but I’ll be fine, Kurt, I promise). Kurt apologized again and again, until finally Blaine laughed at him and told him to go fix his trousers already.

He must have been acting weird though, try as he might to suppress the wrong settling into his chest, because one of the other Warblers approached him after practice. Blaine couldn’t help but eye the boy wearily, they’d never really spoken. He was fellow first tenor, and he didn’t feel quite as intimidating to Blaine as most of the Doms at Dalton still did, but he couldn’t read him for sure.

Still, he was surprised when the other boy clapped a hand on his shoulder and asked in a worried voice if everything was alright.

“My-my Dom’s just going to be home late, that’s all, it’s nothing,” Blaine stammered, and the boy smile.

“I figured it was something like that. My name’s Kyle.” He held his hand out for Blaine to shake, and Blaine took it, noting the thin silver band around the other boy’s wrist. Claim marker “You should come to the Sub Club tonight.”

Blaine blinked. “Sub Club?”

Kyle shrugged, grinning. “Stupid name, I know. At least it’s concise. The Dom’s here have the Domination Organization, and isn’t that a mouthful?”

“Do they actually call it that?” Blaine asked, allowing Kyle to lead him out of the room.

“Some do. Some call it the Dom Orgy, but I think a lot of them feel that gives the wrong impression.”

Blaine laughed, startled. He liked Kyle, he realized. The other boy seemed settled, collected in himself, with the kind of calm Blaine had always assumed you got once you were claimed. He couldn’t help but marvel at it. He also couldn’t help but wonder why he was still chasing it.

“You’re getting lost in your head,” Kyle said genially, bumping his shoulder against Blaine’s. Blaine flushed, embarrassed. He shouldn’t be this unsettled by Kurt having to stay late at work one night.

“You’re new to your claim, right?” Kyle asked, and Blaine nodded, wondering how he knew. “It’s normal to feel weird at first, when you’re separated from them, especially at night. Night’s the time our bodies associate with intimacy. That’s why we’ve got Sub Club. We help distract each other. A bunch of the straight guys who board here can only see their Doms on weekends. I go because my boyfriend is stuck at soccer practice until 11 some nights, but all subs are welcome.”

Blaine slowed down as they approached his locker, unsure. But just Kyle stopped next to him, leaning against the neighboring locker as Blaine opened his and fished out his homework. “I don’t think I could go tonight,” Blaine muttered, watching as Kyle shrugged. It was a nice offer, but all Blaine really wanted to do right now was go home and surround himself with Kurt. Absently, his hand drifted to his wrist, fingers playing with the cuff. So you’ll always know you’re wanted.

Kyle smiled, catching the movement. “You’re welcome any time. It wasn’t a one time offer.”

“Thanks,” Blaine said softly. Kyle smile easily and started to turn away, but Blaine asked quickly “How long have you been claimed?”

The other boy smiled easily. “Three years. Since my first Sickness. He was my best friend, it was supposed to be temporary…until it wasn’t.”

Nervously, Blaine slid his thumb under his cuff, mimicking the motion Kurt often used to calm him. “Does it get easier? Being claimed?” He asked softly.

Kyle titled his head, a thoughtful look on his face. “It was never hard for me. But for people who are claimed late, yeah, I think it does.”

Blaine nodded, turning to look back into his locker. Claimed late, unwanted, no, stop, Kurt.

“Hey, give me your phone,” Kyle said, suddenly. Startled out of the beginning of his spiral, Blaine dug in his pocket for his cell, handing it off to the other boy. Kyle punched in his number and handed it back. “Maybe the whole club is too much right now, but… text me. If things go south tonight. And text your Dom. Whatever he’s doing, I’m sure he won’t mind hearing from you.”

“Thanks,” Blaine said, touched. No one at his other school had ever reached out to him like this.

“Warblers stick together, man,” Kyle said with a grin. As Blaine watched him go, he could feel the knot in his chest loosen slightly.

It was still weird, going home to an empty house. He’d been used to it, in Ohio, often his parents didn’t get home until quite late. But he was accustomed to Kurt’s presence now, and the lack of another person felt strange. It felt a little like being left alone in someone else’s apartment.


Except this was home now. So he toed off his shoes, and went into their bedroom to change. Unlike other parts of the loft, this room felt like theirs. Blaine’s shoes mixed in with Kurt’s along the baseboard, Blaine’s skin care products lined up next to Kurt’s much more ample collection, Blaine’s cloths hanging in a dresser. (The closets were all full, Kurt made clothes for a living, did you really think my closest wouldn’t be full, Blaine?)

Blaine smiled, remembering that conversation. They’d built the IKEA wardrobe together, Kurt promising the entire time they’d eventually get him something nicer, and then Blaine had knelt down in front of it and begged to suck Kurt’s cock - he looked so good in work clothes, all ready to get dirty.

No, this room felt like home. He took a quick shower, just to wash the gel out of his hair. Slipping on sweatpants and, after a brief moment of hesitation, one of Kurt’s oversized sweaters which he grabbed out of the laundry, Blaine settled down in the middle of their bed to do homework.

He was barely halfway through his Pre-Cal when his phone buzzed with a text from Kyle. It was throw away comment, something about couches at Dalton being either too soft or too hard, but the gesture touched Blaine in a way he didn’t expect.

His phone went off intermittently throughout the night, carrying on a shallow conversation with Kyle about Warblers songs mixed in with frustrated texts from Kurt about the current fashion disaster happening in his office. By the time he curled up with his English novel, warm from the sweater and surrounded by the smell of Kurt, he almost forgot he’d been nervous about the night at all.

He must have drifted to sleep at some point, curled around his phone in the middle of their big bed, because when he blinked his eyes open next, darkness had descended in the loft. Dully, he was aware of a hand stroking his hair, and he rolled his head into it without thinking. Kurt’s laughter greeted this action, and Blaine couldn’t help but smile.

“Did you fix your pants crisis?” He asked sleepily, smiling when Kurt laughed again.

“I did. Because I’m amazing.”

“Mhm,” Blaine agreed, rolling over until he could press his face into Kurt’s leg where he was sitting on the bed.

Kurt’s fingers scratched deliberately through his hair, and Blaine could feel the day’s tension leak out of his body. Still warm and soft from sleep, he rolled over lazily, neck and stomach on display. Submitting to you is so easy he thought absently, floating a little as Kurt bent down to kiss the pulse point on his neck. He felt a thrill run through him, yours, but Kurt pulled away.

“Have you eaten, Beautiful?”

Blaine shook his head, surprised at himself for falling asleep without dinner. Kurt hummed thoughtfully, “I thought so. Kitchen was too clean for you to have cooked anything.”

He made a face at that, wriggling away from Kurt in protest at the gentle ribbing. Kurt just snickered, scooping his arms around Blaine’s waist and rolling him off the bed. Blaine shrieked with laughter, catching himself on his hands before he hit the floor. Twisting around, he could see Kurt looking at him from the bed, eyes full of affection, and it made Blaine’s pulse race.

Shyly, he reached out to touch his cuffed wrist against Kurt’s leg, an offering. Kurt took the offer, sliding his fingers under the cuff to settle against Blaine’s pulse. It was a simple act, a reminder of Kurt’s ownership, but it made Blaine want to curl up on his knees and give. Sliding off the bed, Kurt took Blaine’s hand, pulling him up off the floor and out into the kitchen.

They settled on re-heating left over Thai food, Kurt too tired to cook and Blaine so content to stand there wrapped in Kurt’s arms that he didn’t really care what they ate.

“Did you have a good night?” Kurt asked softly, lips pressed against Blaine’s hair.

“I did,” Blaine admitted, melting into Kurt. “I made a friend a school, I think. We texted on and off.”

He could feel Kurt’s smile. “That’s great, Beautiful. I’m so happy for you.”

“Mhm. I’m glad you’re home though.”

“Me too,” Kurt assured him. “It was nice to come home to that, you all sleepy warm and sweet in bed. Wearing my clothes, I noticed.”

“Just the sweater. It smelled like you.”

They curled up on the floor of the living room after that, with late night tv and reheated curry. Kurt passed some time mocking the ridiculousness that was reality tv, but Blaine was too close to the edge, too close to being under, to do much besides curled up in Kurt’s arms and feel grateful.

Dishes were cleared away eventually, and then Kurt took Blaine back to their bedroom and stripped him of everything but his cuff. He pressed apologies for being late and praises for being strong into Blaine’s skin, then rolled him over and pressed them together until there was no space between them anymore. The release came easily, slipping out of his brain, slipping under for Kurt. It felt like coming home.

Nights got easier after that. (Not easy, by any means, but better, an uphill climb, he’d get there some day.) Kurt still tried to be home when Blaine got out of school, but Blaine knew he needed to stay at the office more than he’d like to or felt he should, and Blaine didn’t mind as much anymore. Some nights he’d go to Sub Club, and nurture his growing friendships with Kyle and a couple of the other subs from Dalton. Being friends with Doms was still hard, he was still too skittish, but this was a good place to start finding a life of his own, to complement what he had with Kurt.

Some other nights, he’d go back by himself. If he was feeling adventurous, he’d cook something for Kurt to come home too, a treat since Kurt usually cooked. He had varying degrees of success with cooking in general, but Kurt always seemed to appreciate the effort.    

It was still hard to be alone, sometimes. As the school year drew to a close and summer loomed, he knew he’d be faced with a lot more alone time to come. As much as Kurt could try to work from home, he still had a life. Blaine didn’t want to tie him to the loft, didn’t want to feel like a kid who needed babysitting. Hopefully before summer started he’d manage to make some real friends a Dalton, boys who lived close enough not to board and who he could spend free time with over the summer.

Also, there was Cooper. His brother was here, and though Blaine didn’t want to spend all his time with a self proclaimed TV star, Cooper would be there for him if he got lonely. And so would Kurt, who Blaine knew would drop everything if Blaine really needed him.

So nights alone were still weird sometimes, but Blaine was discovering it was nice to be the person someone came home to. It was really nice to be the person Kurt came home to. It made him feel precious and loved, the way Kurt would wrap him up after a late night, hold him like knowing he had Blaine to come home to was the only thing that got him through the day.

And maybe it was. Sometimes he’d think about what Carole had said to him, about Kurt needing to be taken care of too. Maybe this was part of being a sub, a part he’d never really thought of before. So much emphasis was put on obedience, both by the media and by sex ed classes in school, that Blaine had always assumed that was what being a sub meant. He was learning now, though, that it was as much about giving stability as giving obedience.

So he’d be there when Kurt got home late, be there to be held, to listen when Kurt needed to talk, and to talk when Kurt needed not to. He was learning the ways he could care for his Dom in return, and if it took late nights to teach him that, well. Blaine could deal with them.

—

Bad Days

Blaine still had bad days. Kurt knew he did. Yet, as the summer progressed, they were becoming fewer and further between.  Summer granted Blaine a new kind of independence, and he took to it better than either of them had anticipated. Kurt didn’t think he’d get to watch Blaine grow up as much as he did that summer ever again. He only wished, longingly, that he could be around to see more of it.

But he couldn’t. Kurt was a busy man who owned a company that was expanding more rapidly with each month. He couldn’t spend each day by Blaine’s side, watching him explore New York City, no matter how much he wanted to.

It helped that Blaine shared it with him so readily. He’d spend his evenings in wide-eyed excitement, telling Kurt about the places he’d explored with a couple fellow subs from Dalton, or the afternoon he passed in a little cafe writing music. Blaine was blossoming, coming alive in the city, just like Kurt had known he would.

He had been worried, initially, about how Blaine would handle the extended periods of alone time once school stopped for the year. But he seemed to balance his time quite well. Sometimes he’d come in to work with Kurt, curling up happily in a chair in the corner of Kurt’s office with a guitar and a teach-yourself-cords book.

(I wanna write music, Blaine had said as he longingly trailed his fingers over the deep honey toned wood of a guitar hanging from a shop wall. Piano is great, but… I’ve always wanted to learn. And really, what was the point of Kurt’s money if he couldn’t spoil his sub now and then?)

Sometimes he’d spend the day out, with friends of his from Dalton. Most of them were local kids from wealthy families, un-claimed subs or boys in temporary claims with other kids their ages. They seemed to welcome Blaine, though, and Kurt was grateful to know Blaine had a chance to spend time with people his own age.

It was these boys who dragged Blaine into a local youth center production of Grease. He’d told Kurt about it with such wide-eyed excitement, it had made Kurt’s heart leap. Nothing was better, Kurt was discovering, than feeling you sub’s happiness and excitement radiate off him like a physical force. Blaine had landed the part of Teen Angel, had a song all to himself, subs in Ohio never got parts like this he’d explained excitedly to Kurt.

(Kurt remembered. He remembered watching Mike Chang and other subs from his high school days get passed over time and time again because people thought they didn’t have the strength to carry a part. He remembered hating it, vowing never to be one of those people.)

So the summer went on and Blaine channeled his time into Beauty School Drop-out rehearsals, and learning guitar, and finding new places in the city to show Kurt. (like it was some sort of game, could he find somewhere to go where Kurt had never been?) It was nothing like what Kurt had always thought having a sub would be, and it was exactly what he wanted for the rest of his life. Hearing Blaine talk about the excitement and challenges of his life, of having Blaine share those things with Kurt, made Kurt more proud than anything he’d accomplished himself.

They had time for themselves too, of course. Nights and weekends, whenever Kurt could afford not to be at work he was with Blaine. They’d go out together, to see plays, visit art galleries, or listen to symphonies that Kurt would never have appreciated half as much without Blaine sitting next to him with wide-eyed wonder.

“You’re so good to me,” Blaine whispered in awe one night, tucked in warm and close to Kurt’s side as they waited in line for their dinner reservation at a restaurant in Little Italy. “You spoil me so much.”

“Only the best for you,” Kurt murmured fondly, kissing Blaine’s temple where his curls were falling loose. There was a slow, possessive curl of pride wrapping itself around his stomach at getting to hold Blaine like this, out in public where everyone would know he was Kurt’s. It made him feel lazy and affectionate, holding Blaine close, eyes flicking lazily to catch the other Dom’s who might look at his boy. Mine.

“You know I don’t need it, right?” Blaine asked softly. He turned a little, propping his chin up on Kurt’s shoulder, blinking up at him with happy, honey eyes. “All of this - It’s not important. Just you. Having you. That’s enough for me.”

Kurt’s heart throbbed dully, he wondered if Blaine would ever stop making him feel so much. “I like being able to share things with you. I know you don’t need it, but… It makes me happy to be able to give it.”

“I like making you happy,” Blaine said softly, resting his head against Kurt’s neck.

Dinner that night was good, the restaurant quietly elegant and the food was delicious. The clientele was mostly couples, which lent itself to a quiet, romantic atmosphere.

Or at least it did, until about halfway through their entree.

It took Kurt a couple minutes to realize what was going on. He was too focused on the story he’d been telling about one of his interns, he didn’t notice the sounds floating across the space of the open dining area. He did notice Blaine stiffen, though, the way his shoulders pulled tight and his back straightened up. He could almost feel the waves of anxiety rolling off his sub.

It made him sit up and take notice, ready to ask what was wrong, when he finally tuned in to the sound of yelling.

“You stupid bitch, now I’m going to have to pay for that! Goddamn whore, can’t do anything right, why do I even keep you-”

It was easy to locate the source of the commotion. A couple of tables away from them, a women about Kurt’s age was on her knees, frantically picking up shards of a broken glass while a man towered over her. Her Dom, presumably, but that didn’t make the prickle of wrongness crawling up Kurt’s spine go away. The wait staff from the restaurant was circling around her, but she remained on her knees among the broken crystal wear.

“Stupid goddamn hoe!” The man yelled, and Kurt could see the way Blaine flinched from the voice like it were a physical force.

Protect, Kurt’s instincts screamed, and he reached across the table to take Blaine’s hand. “Are you alright?” He asked urgently, ready to flag down a manager to make the man leave.

“I’m fine,” Blaine said softly, but his eyes remained fixed on his plate, his hand unresponsive in Kurt’s.

“Be honest with me. Are you okay, Beautiful?”

“I’m fine,” Blaine repeated, his posture closing off more and more as the man kept yelling. The lie prickled uncomfortably across Kurt’s skin, the disobedience sitting unpleasant in his stomach, but he knew Blaine. He knew the need to be composed, to make himself invulnerable, was stronger than his urge to obey right now.

“They’re leaving, it’s fine,” Kurt reassured, watching as the man and his cowering sub were escorted out of the restaurant. “Do you need to leave? Tell me what you need.”

“I’m fine,” Blaine repeated again, and it prickled along Kurt’s skin. He didn’t know what to do. Disobedience born out of stubbornness he could deal with. Disobedience born out of fear and self-protection? He had no idea what to do.

“We’ll take the rest to go, okay?” Kurt decided, waving his hand to flag down a waiter. Blaine just folded his hands in his lap, head bowed down. This is wrong, Kurt could feel it instinctively. Something was wrong, his sub was hurt, he needed to fix it and didn’t know how.

It took the cab ride back to decided to give Blaine his space. He’d learned to come to Kurt if he needed him, Kurt would just have to trust in that. Blaine stayed quiet, drawn in on himself on the opposite side of the bench seat all the way back to the loft. It was such a stark contrast from the affectionate, tactile behavior from earlier in the evening that it only served to highlight Blaine’s discomfort.

Let him come to you Kurt reminded himself once they were home, pressing a soft kiss to Blaine’s temple before walking off to settle at his sketch desk.

It took less time that he expected, almost no time at all, until he felt a gentle push against his leg. He looked down to find Blaine on his knees, hands clasped in his lap, pushing his forehead against Kurt’s leg. He reached down, ready to tangle his fingers in Blaine’s hair and give comfort, only to have Blaine jerk away with a small whine. Confused, Kurt asked “What do you need, Beautiful?”

Blaine was quiet for a minute, eyes closed with his head resting on Kurt’s thigh. Then he spoke in a weak voice. “Punish me?”

Kurt’s heart throbbed in his chest. He didn’t want to punish Blaine, he wanted to hold him, sooth away his hurt and make him alright again. “Why?”

Blaine just whined again, a pained look crossing his face. “Please, Sir. Please.”

And just like that, it was like it could never had been any other way. The purpose and control of domination flooded through Kurt, and he knew what to do. He settled his hand in Blaine’s hair, fisting the curls not in a rewarding in stroke, but using them to tip his head back. “Take off your clothes. I’m going to get something from our room, be naked and silent when I get back.”

He stood up from his desk, ignoring the motion of Blaine standing to remove his clothes. From their bedroom he collected a simple pair of leather cuffs and a short chain to connect them. He stripped off his own vest and shirt, and quickly changed from dress slacks into a comfortable pair of yoga pants and soft heather-gray Henley. He didn’t know how long what he had in mind would last, and he might as well be comfortable.

Blaine was standing naked in the middle of the room when he got back, hands clasped in front of himself like a shield. That told Kurt everything he needed to know about how present Blaine was in his body. Purposefully, careful not to be too rough or too gentle, Kurt curled his hand around Blaine’s bicep and lead him to an empty corner of the loft.

Balancing the cuffs in the crook of his own elbow, Kurt placed his hands on Blaine’s shoulders, using them to position Blaine how he wanted. Then he slowly dragged his hands down the naked skin, appreciating the way he could feel muscle flexing underneath, and guided Blaine’s arms behind his back to cross at the wrists.

Without speaking, he fastened the cuffs around Blaine’s wrists, the thick black leather completely covering the smaller brown claim marker that always lay against Blaine’s skin. He secured the short chain between them, making sure Blaine wouldn’t be able to pull free, before placing both of his hands gently on Blaine’s shoulder blades.

“You’re going to stand here, quietly. You’ve done something wrong, and you need to think about it. Don’t move, don’t turn around, don’t speak until you can tell me what you’ve done wrong. You’re going to stand here until you understand why you’re being punished. I’m going to be sitting on the couch. I won’t leave you here alone, I promise, I won’t even leave the room. Do you understand? Answer yes or no.”

“Yes,” Blaine said softly, long eyelashes fluttering slightly as his eyes slipped closed.

“Good. Tell me when you know what you’ve done wrong.” With that, Kurt pulled away, the palms of his hands feeling cold from where they’d been resting against Blaine’s warm flesh. He grabbed a magazine, which would make enough noise that Blaine would be able to hear his presence, and settled down on the couch nearby to wait.

Patience, which might have alluded him at another time, came easily to Kurt now. The calm and purpose of being dominate, of channeling the urge to control, settled into his skin. He was built for this. He could feel the tension emanating from Blaine, could practically hear the gears turning in his sub’s head. There were several ways this could go, though he suspected he knew the most likely.

Blaine’s voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “Please, Sir.”

Rising from the couch, Kurt walked over to Blaine. The urge to touch surged through him, but he tamped down on it, instead tucking his fingers under the cuffs binding Blaine’s wrists. He could feel Blaine’s pulse fluttering wildly against his fingertips. So alive.

“What have you done wrong?” He asked.

“I ruined the evening. We had to leave, because of me,” Blaine said immediately, and ahh. Kurt was right. This was going to take a while.

“No,” Kurt said simply. He pressed one hand to the center of Blaine’s back, between his shoulder blades. “You will never be punished for having needs, physical or emotional. Think some more, then tell me again.”

He could feel some of the tension leak out of Blaine’s body before he pulled his hands away, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself. Just because he had fewer bad days now didn’t mean Blaine didn’t need to be reminded sometimes that he mattered. There was a deeper issue here, and Kurt was glad he’d caught it. Glad Blaine had known enough to ask for this.

Kurt returned to the couch, settling back down with his magazine. The feeling of agitation had settled somewhat from Blaine now, and Kurt could tell he was really thinking now. Maybe the answer this time wouldn’t be driven by the voice that tells Blaine he’s good enough.

“Please, Sir.”

Crossing the room to Blaine felt like being pulled by a magnet. His fingers hooked under Blaine’s cuff like they belonged there. “What have you done wrong?”

Blaine’s voice was shakier, this time, like he was afraid of the answer he’d get in return. “I was weak. I couldn’t handle seeing-”

“No,” Kurt cut him off quickly. He couldn’t even let him finish. Reaching up with both hands, he splayed his palms across the breadth of Blaine’s back. “You will never be punished for hurting, Beautiful. Never. It’s my place to heal those hurts, not to punish them for existing. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” Blaine’s entire body seemed to slump, shoulders and head dropping foreword like a cord had been cut. A part of Kurt, the part that ached whenever Blaine was upset, wanted to curl him in close and hold him until that hurt went away. But that wasn’t what he needed.

“Think some more. Tell me when you understand what you’ve done wrong.”

Pulling away from Blaine this time was hard. The air-conditioned cold of the loft seemed to settle into Kurt’s skin, and he couldn’t stop the nagging edge of worry. He didn’t allow himself to get absorbed in his magazine again, too focused on Blaine and the fact that he’d been standing naked in the chilled air for about an hour. The discomfort was part of the point, it was what made the punishment after all, but Kurt didn’t want to push Blaine so far that he was unable to focus because of it.

Kurt was just starting to worry that maybe Blaine wouldn’t get there on his own, that Kurt would have to step in, when a third, almost inaudible “Please, Sir,” drifted across the room.

Blaine’s skin was cool to the touch, even in the snug space behind the cuffs. Up this close, Kurt could see the small tremors of shivers raking through Blaine’s body. “What have you done wrong?”

“I-I wasn’t honest,” Blaine stuttered. “I lied when you asked me if I was okay. I didn’t tell you what I needed or let you take care of me.”

“Yes,” Kurt breathed, relieved. He stepped forward to wrap his arms around Blaine. His sub seemed to sink back into him, cool skin pressing into Kurt’s body, crossed wrists snug against Kurt’s stomach. “My top priority will always be your safety, Beautiful. Even if that means taking you away so some asshole in a restaurant can’t trigger the things that make you think you’re bad, or weak. I need to know you understand that.”

“I do.”

“Good.” Kurt started to pulled away, startled by Blaine’s small whimper as Kurt let him go. “I’m just going to unhook your cuffs, sweetheart.”

The leather peeled away from Blaine’s skin, and then his arms were falling limply to his sides. Kurt reached out, turn Blaine to face him. He looked exhausted. Exhausted and cold.

“You were so good for me, Beautiful. You did exactly what I asked you to do. You’re such a good boy, taking your punishment like that.” He could see the pleasure on Blaine’s face at that praise, and it made Kurt’s heart swell. Blaine still looked blissed out, like he was toeing the edge of going under. “I’m going to run us a warm bath, and then I’m going to take care of you. Okay, Beautiful?”

“Yes, sir.”

He pulled Blaine with him into the bathroom, settling him down on the toilet seat while Kurt set about drawing a bath. Nothing too fancy, he mused to himself, now wasn’t the time for scented oils or bubbles. Just warm water, and plenty of it. He stripped down quickly, glad he’d thought to change into clothes he didn’t mind leaving sitting on the floor.

Once the tub was full, he reached out for Blaine, pulling him towards the water. Some of the awareness was returning to Blaine’s face now, too long without any commands or touch to keep him under, and Kurt wanted to fix that as soon as possible. He guided Blaine into the tub, then slipped in behind him before he came to rest completely.

Guiding with hands and murmured commands, Kurt settled Blaine between his legs, back against his chest, arms wrapping around his sub completely. Blaine sighed, softly, head tipping back against Kurt’s shoulder. Smiling, Kurt pressed a kiss against Blaine’s temple. “Good boy.”

He let his hands drift aimlessly for a while, caressing Blaine’s skin in mindless looping patterns while he warmed up. Blaine was hard, Kurt could see it through the water, but he seemed relaxed in the way he got when arousal was secondary to submission. Curiously, Kurt drew his hand up to drag across Blaine’s nipples, just to see how much of a reaction he could pull from him. Blaine groaned, head rolling a little bit against Kurt’s shoulders, but he didn’t move otherwise.

Lazily, Kurt slid his hand down Blaine’s body to curl around his beautiful cock. “You’ve been so good for me tonight, Beautiful. You took your punishment so well. You can come whenever you need to.”

Kurt kept his strokes lazy, rhythmic but not fast, loving the small sounds that fell from Blaine’s mouth like he just couldn’t help himself. Reading Blaine was so easy now, he knew when the unhurried strokes started to edge from pleasurable to frustrating, and sped up accordingly. The point wasn’t to draw it out tonight. He just wanted to make Blaine feel good.

“Please, Sir, can I come?” Blaine asked softly, and it sent a hot wave through Kurt’s body, Blaine asking even though he’d already been given permission. Like it was instinctual, and god, it was. Blaine was such a good sub, and he didn’t even know it.

“Come, Beautiful, come for me.”

The arch of Blaine’s spine, the cry that fell from his lips, all made Kurt shudder in sympathy as Blaine’s hips fucked up in little circles, riding out the orgasm. Kurt was hard, pressed against the small of Blaine’s back, needed to get off so badly.

All it took was Blaine grinding back, begging with a whimper “You too, Sir, please,” and Kurt was coming, arms tightening around Blaine to hold him close as pleasure expanded throughout Kurt’s body.

They lay together, slumped in dirty bath water, shivering through the tingling aftershocks of orgasm. Blaine shuffled around a little until he was curled up with his side against Kurt’s chest, knees drawn up tight to his body and head against Kurt’s neck. It didn’t look particularly comfortable, but it allowed Kurt to hold him more fully, and maybe that was what he needed right now.

“Thank you,” Blaine spoke softly, one of his fingers tracing aimless across Kurt’s chest. “Creative punishment, by the way, that was… That was perfect. Exactly what I needed.”

“I know,” Kurt agreed, smiling into Blaine’s hair when his sub snorted. “Thank you for telling me you needed it.”

Blaine nodded. “I’m sorry. For how I acted earlier.”

“It’s done,” Kurt said simply. “You’ve taken the punishment, the slate is clean.”

“Yeah.” Blaine sounded meditative, and Kurt could tell there was something on his mind. He waited it out, holding on until Blaine started talking. “It just… threw me, you know? I remember when people treated me like that, not that long ago. It’s not like I’m worried that you will. I’m not, and I need to know you know that.”

“I do,” Kurt reassured him, rubbing his hand between Blaine’s shoulders until the remaining tension leaked out of his body. “I know you still have triggers and that they don’t reflect on me.”

“Okay,” Blaine murmured, “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Kurt returned, and he could feel Blaine’s eyes flutter shut against collar bones. “Come on, we’re not sleeping in here,” he insisted, and was met with Blaine’s laughter. It was a wonderful sound.

They rinsed off quickly, and Kurt allowed himself the luxury of toweling Blaine off himself, enjoying the way it made his sub giggle and blush. He bundled Blaine up into warm soft cotton pajamas then, still overly conscious of the long exposure to cold. He left his own shirt off at Blaine’s request, and Blaine snuggled down happily against his bare chest when they crawled into bed.

Blaine’s breathing evened out quickly, a soft rush across his chest, and Kurt let it lull him. As he drifted to sleep, he spared a moment to be grateful that bad days could end with good nights.

—

Collars

Dalton required ties.

Blaine had gotten used to them last year, in the month he’d spent there, but summer had spoiled him. Long days of bowties or no ties, sprawled out in Kurt’s office, or dressed as a greaser at the youth center. At home, at night, he didn’t usually bother with more than a t-shirt, sometimes a sweater if they wanted to crank up the AC. It had been months since he’d worn a tie.

But the new school year was approaching quickly. Senior year, his last year of high school. In some ways it couldn’t come soon enough. He didn’t really feel like a high schooler anymore, not entirely. Even during the summer he’d spent with some of the guys from Dalton, he’d felt different than them. They had curfews and parents to answer too, where as Blaine had as much autonomy as Kurt could give him. He came home for dinner every night with Kurt because he wanted too, not because he had too.

The world of high school felt petty, somehow, when he had this real, adult life outside of school. He stopped to get groceries on the way home as often as Kurt did, he’d balance their shared bank account if Kurt was too busy with work, he’d gently reminded his Dom that if Kurt kept forgetting to paying the utilities bill they would regret it very soon. The reality of being one half of an adult couple made the discussions of which Dom from the lacrosse team was hooking up with which pretty sub from the sister school seem very inconsequential.

Blaine sighed, fingering his school tie as he sank to sit on the bed. It wasn’t that he didn’t have friends a Dalton. He did. He had Kyle and Nick and Jeff, even Trent, who was a little bit of a scary Dom at first, but turned out to be the biggest softy ever. He was Blaine’s first Dom friend, and he knew it, was careful to respect personal space and read Blaine’s physical cues. Blaine liked those guys, he really did.

But he also liked Kurt’s friends. He liked the girls from the office, who cooed whenever he came in with Kurt and made sly suggestive comments whenever he went home early with Kurt. He liked Rachel, who he knew Kurt would always love, even if they weren’t as close as they used to be. He liked the fashionistas at the parties Kurt went to, liked being on Kurt’s arm at those events. He just wasn’t ready to give up that life yet.

It’s only one more year, he reminded himself. Then he’d be a college, at The American Musical Academy, or Tisch or maybe NYADA. But until then, he had ties and blazers and trying to keep track of the complicated internal politics of high school.

At least he’d have Kurt tying his ties for him. He smiled, thinking about the feeling of Kurt’s fingers pulling the knot snug against the base of his throat. They usually got up at the same time on days when Blaine had school, unlike the summer when some days Blaine didn’t roll out of bed until 10. The first time Blaine had asked, shyly, if Kurt would tie his tie for him. It just became habit after that.

“What are you thinking about?”

Blaine started, glancing up to find Kurt watching him from the doorway. Kurt looked gorgeous as ever, long and lean as he rested against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest and an affectionate look on his face.

“You,” Blaine answered honestly, setting the tie down next to him on the bed where the rest of his uniform was laid out.

“I hope not,” Kurt said, brow creasing with worry. “You look melancholy.”

Blaine laughed at that, easily letting the weight that had been settling on him roll off his shoulders as Kurt pushed off against the door frame and walked towards him. “I’m not ready to go back to school, I guess. This has been a good summer.”

Kurt hummed softly, picking up the tie from the bed. “It’ll be a good year, too.” As he spoke, he looped the tie around Blaine’s neck, tugging the material tight enough that it pressed ever so slightly against Blaine’s skin. It made him shiver, tipping his head back automatically for Kurt.

They both knew what this did to Blaine. His neck was one of the most vulnerable places on his body, one of the most sensitive. Instinct made him bare it to Kurt, one of the acts of submission that came easiest to him, but meant so much - and Kurt knew it. He’d rest his hand on Blaine’s neck sometimes, an unspoken claim, before sliding his fingers into Blaine’s hair.

Blaine knew that one of the biggest signals for Kurt that he was feeling subby and needy, though not enough to ask for anything yet, was the way Blaine would bare his neck. Sometimes it’d be enough, but other time Kurt would just smile knowingly at him and do nothing. Blaine knew those times he’d have to work out a way to ask for what he wanted, other than just baring his neck for Kurt.

Like he was doing now, head tipped back to expose the long column of his throat to his Dom. He couldn’t muster up the energy to be embarrassed about it, how worked up he could get just from Kurt wrapping some fabric around his throat. It probably had something to do with the heat in Kurt’s eyes, and Blaine shivered as Kurt leaned in to press kisses against his adam’s apple.

“You’re going to have to get used to this, or we’re going to have to build another hour into our morning routine,” Kurt teased, pulling his head back. He did up the tie with quick, efficient fingers that spoke of years of practice.

“Might be worth it,” Blaine muttered, still swimming a little in his own head. He looked down at his own chest, snickering a little at how the tie looked laying awkwardly over his bright green polo.

“Ah, you say that now,” Kurt said with a smirk, shuffling forward until he could settle down on Blaine’s lap, thighs bracketing Blaine’s hips. Blaine looped his arms around Kurt’s waist automatically, looking up at his Dom from under his eyelashes. “You forget I’ve seen you in the mornings.”

“Like I could ever forget waking up with you,” Blaine muttered softly, and Kurt laughed, but Blaine could see the pleased flush of his skin. “I want you,” he admitted softly, and after all these months it still felt strange to be able to ask. “Is- is that okay? Can we-”

Kurt cut him off with a kiss, tangling his fingers in Blaine’s curls and using the grip to pull his head back. With Kurt in his lap like this, surrounding him, Blaine felt small. Kurt’s presence was everywhere, physically imposing and radiating dominance. It made Blaine want to give all of himself.

They pulled apart, an obscene slick sound reverberated around the room as their mouths parted. “I’m going to take your clothes off, spread you out, and ride you. You’re going to say where I put you and you’re not going to say anything other than ‘yes Sir’ and ‘please’.”  

Blaine whined a little, already aching to be spread, to show Kurt how good he could be. “Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.”

That made Kurt laugh, and Blaine could see how bright his eyes were through the haze that was already descending in his brain. “Such a good boy for me,” he whispered, and Blaine moaned. “Let’s leave the tie on.”

After that it was all spread limbs and the insane hotness of being inside Kurt. His arms were stretched up and to the side as far as they could go, but unrestrained, like a challenge. Could he keep them there on his own? He could. His legs, too, were similarly spread, laying spread-eagle on the bed. The position gave him no leverage at all, and he reveled in it.

Kurt moved slowly, working himself on Blaine, chasing his own pleasure, hand curled around his dick. The other hand, he wrapped up in Blaine’s tie, keeping them connected, keeping the material snug against Blaine’s neck. (Not enough to block the air, Kurt would never spring that on him. Just enough to keep the tension. Just enough for Blaine to feel it)

It all felt so good, being spread, being Kurt’s, being so clearly used for his Dom’s pleasure. Blaine was shivering with it, on fire with it, a loop of heat circling in his body from the tie around his neck to where he was slipping in and out Kurt’s body. Everything in existence was Kurt, and then there were moments of nothing at all, as he slipped out of his brain, his body able to take it and not need more than the taking, than being so good for Kurt.

So good. Kurt was whispering that now, chanting as he rode. “So good, Beautiful. Don’t come, I know you can hold on for me. Let me keep you in me for a bit longer.”

Abruptly, Blaine was aware of the ache in his balls, the tightness in his entire body, so close to the edge, hanging there. He moaned helplessly. “Please, sir. Please.”

“No.” Kurt was smiling playfully now, loving this. He tugged gently on the tie, and Blaine gasped. “You’re being so good. You can hold on. I know you can.”

The only thing Blaine could do was slip away again, to the place where nothing mattered but doing what Kurt said. He lost the passage of time, lost everything, until his body was to the point where he couldn’t, he just couldn’t-

“Come on, come sweetheart. You can come, Beautiful.”

The crest of pleasure was almost painful, muscles tightening with his balls, nipples, all of him seizing up as it bloomed through his body. A cry fell inhibited from his lips, and he could hear Kurt echo it, dimly aware of Kurt’s own come streaking his skin.

He drifted for a bit after that, the aftershocks pinging through his body occasionally drawing out soft sounds. Dimly, he was aware of Kurt moving his stiff limbs back to his sides, rubbing away the ache in the muscles. Cool fingers loosened the tie around his neck, slipping the knot out and pulling the fabric free. The heat at his side disappear for a bit, but before he could work up the presence of mind to worry about it, Kurt was back, swiping a warm wet cloth across the come staining his skin.

Then Kurt was pulling him in, rolling him close until he was tucked against Kurt’s body. He let it ground him, the smell of Kurt’s skin, the sound of his voice drawing Blaine back. Eventually he shifted a little, snuggling so he could wrap himself around Kurt in return, and he could feel Kurt’s smile.

“Welcome back. You haven’t gone that hard in a while.”

Blaine hummed a little, relishing the way Kurt’s hand swept through his curls. “It’s the neck thing. I told you.”

Smiling, Kurt leaned down to press a kiss to the skin of Blaine’s neck, slightly reddened from the pressure of the tie. Blaine tipped his head back happily, and he could feel Kurt’s smile against his skin. “You still want that collar?” Kurt asked quietly, teasingly against his throat.

He could feel the heat of the color rushing to his skin, and from his soft laughter, Blaine guessed Kurt could see it too. Still, he answered honestly, “Yes.” His Dom didn’t say anything in response, just leaned up to kiss him, and really, that was distraction enough.

It didn’t come up again after that, for almost two weeks. Blaine went back to school, got back into the routine of rising early with Kurt. Kurt would shower first, leaving Blaine in their bed to wake up slowly. Blaine would shower while Kurt moisturized and dressed, emerging feeling marginally more human, and then he’d pull on his uniform. Kurt’s fingers against his throat as he did up Blaine’s tie felt like a promise and a gift of strength. It made Blaine feel loved, as did the cuff on his wrist.

It was difficult to get back into the rhythm of only seeing each other at night, though. The independence of summer stayed with Blaine, and even though he didn’t mind being on his own as much any more, he found himself really missing Kurt. Kurt was more than just his Dom - he was Blaine’s best friend.

It didn’t help that the pressure was wracking up on Kurt. The fall was a busy time for every consumer industry, everyone rushing to prepare for the holiday season, and fashion was no different. Fashion Night Out in September kicked off the busy period, and Kurt’s company was just large enough to feel the push. The combination of missing Kurt and wanting to help him relax lead Blaine to grabbing some take out and bringing it to it Kurt’s office one late Thursday night. The smile on Kurt’s face when he saw Blaine standing in his office doorway holding the take out bag was reward enough for the spontaneous action.

“I love you,” Kurt said emphatically, dropping his pencil and beckoning Blaine into the room.

“Uh huh,” Blaine teased, setting the bag of Chinese food on Kurt’s desk. “Only because I bring you food.”

“Clearly,” Kurt responded dryly, reaching across the desk the snag Blaine’s tie and pulling him in for a kiss. Blaine went easily, shivering happily as Kurt licked at his lips then pulled away. “Come on, I’m hungry.”

Blaine laughed, shaking his head and dropping down into the seat across from Kurt’s desk. “Just don’t eat all the cashew chicken.”

Kurt stuck his tongue out, but Blaine could see the happiness shining in his eyes. It sunk down Blaine’s spine, a silent good boy, you did well. “So what brought all of this on?” Kurt asked curiously, pulling boxes out of the bag.

Shrugging, Blaine grabbed a set of chopsticks, and the carton closest to him. “I don’t know, I just miss you.”

“Aw, I miss you too,” Kurt agreed, pouting playfully. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy.”

Blaine shrugged it off easily, leaning forward to steal a piece of chicken from the carton in Kurt’s hands. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to see you.”

“I’d been thinking actually,” Kurt started, setting the carton back down on the desk untouched. “This weekend, we should do something, just us.”

“I like the sound of that,” Blaine agreed, smirking. Kurt shook his head, rolling his eyes affectionately, and Blaine giggled. He could tell, though, Kurt had something on his mind, something serious to talk about. Blaine put his own carton down, focusing on Kurt. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Yes. I was thinking maybe we could go looking for a collar for you.”

Blaine’s heart skipped in his chest, then beat double time to make up for it. “Ye-yeah. We could do that,” he stuttered.

The smile that spread across Kurt’s face was knowing. “Maybe it was cruel of me to spring that on you. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. And I’m ready for it, if you are.”

“I think I am. I am,” Blaine rushed to reassure. “Please, Kurt.”

Kurt laughed, reaching out and catching Blaine’s hand across the desk. It helped ground him, keep his head from spinning out of control as he sat there, unable to stop imagining the feeling of something (nylon, silk, rope, leather) pushing at his throat. Marking him as Kurt’s, just for them, in a way his cuff couldn’t, didn’t. A collar would mean… so much, just for them.

Shivers chased up his spine, and it took him a moment to realize that Kurt’s fingers had worked their way under his cuff, stroking the delicate skin on the inside of his wrist. He couldn’t help imagining the same thing, only with those clever fingers stroking at the sensitive skin on his neck, under a collar.

“Are you sure, Beautiful? You look overwhelmed.”

Blaine smiled, sliding his hand down so Kurt’s fingers slipped out from under his cuff, catching them to tangle with his own. “I am, a little. But in a good way, I promise.”

“Okay.” Kurt squeezed his fingers once, then withdrew his hand again, picking the carton of chicken back up. “There’s no rush to find anything, of course. We’ll have a lot of choices - styles and colors and texture. I just have some ideas where to start.”

Blaine hardly paid attention to what he was eating for the rest of the night.

Saturday couldn’t come soon enough for Blaine. Kurt actually teased him about it, how antsy he got Friday night, the dopey smile that was stuck to his face.

“What exactly has you so excited about this?” Kurt asked that night as they did dishes together, Kurt washing and Blaine drying.

Blaine shrugged, accepting the dish Kurt handed him. He was still smiling, couldn’t help it, the casual domesticity of doing dishes together hadn’t gotten old for him yet. He kind of hoped it never would. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

“Do you think you could try?” Kurt prompted. “I don’t want to go into this not knowing your headspace. It’s not that you think this is going to make you more mine, right? Because you’re already mine.”

“No, I know that,” Blaine reassured. Flushing happily, he held up his wrist, the soft leather slightly damp with dish water. “I’m reminded every day.” Kurt smiled too, soapy hand wrapping around the bare skin on Blaine’s forearm, pulling his wrist up for a kiss. It still, still, made Blaine’s heart skip.

“Then what?” Kurt asked curiously.  

“It’s… it’s the goal we set for ourselves, you know? This was the thing that… Look, I know that you don’t have expectations for me in our day to day life. And that’s good, that’s what I want. I want to be able to run my own life. But this was the thing that, when I was having a hard time adjusting, I told myself if I could be good I could have this. And now it’s real.”

Kurt blinked, and for a minute Blaine couldn’t read his facial expression. Then he smiled softly, and the fondness in his eyes caught Blaine off guard. “You are good, Beautiful. My good boy.”

It made him shiver, the praise making his body react like a physical touch. He set the plate aside, needing nothing more in that moment than to be wrapped up in Kurt. His Dom’s arms were around him before he was fully pressed against Kurt’s side, heedless of soap or dishwater.

The rest of the dishes didn’t get done that night.

The last of the summer heat clung to the city the next morning as they left together, dress in short sleeves and light pants, fingers linked together and smiles on their faces. A soft bright glow of warmth had settled into Blaine’s chest the night before, as they lay stuck together by sweat and come, and it hadn’t faded yet. It persisted as they stopped at Starbucks to get coffee, as Kurt hailed a cab for them, as they finally reached their destination.


Gear Shops, just like all other stores in the world, came in vary levels of swankiness and sleaziness. You could find a crumbling corner store ready to sell you latex suits of dubious origin, and you could find Fifth Avenue shops with gold plated handcuffs and designer whips. The store Kurt had picked out seemed to fit into the middle range, tasteful and discreet enough not to be flashing neon signs, but without the overbearing opulence of the high end world.

The stock, Blaine observed as they walked in, looked expensive in the way that meant things were well made. A lot of the items for sale made something deep in his chest quiver and curl up, not fear so much as a bone deep wariness. Kurt, wonderful, ever-conscious Kurt, slide his arm smoothly around Blaine’s waist, steering him away from the area of the store portioned off and labeled Punishment.

He leaned into Kurt’s side and let his Dom guide him, followed Kurt’s foot steps towards the far wall of the store, which was covered in clothing and accessories of all kinds. He could feel his eyes widen as he noticed the huge selection of collars. So many choices.

“Can I help you gentleman?”

A sales clerk approached them, and Blaine sank back into Kurt’s side shyly. He didn’t know how to act in this situation. Old instincts told him he should be kneeling, battling new ones which said he only got on his knees for Kurt.

Kurt’s arm tightened around his side, and he leaned into it. “My sub and I are looking for a collar.” Kurt said smoothly, hand rubbing soothingly along Blaine’s side.

“Anything in particular you have in mind?”

“I think we’d just like to look for now,” Kurt said pleasantly. “If we need assistance we’ll let you know.”

Blaine stayed close to Kurt until the clerk had left, eyes flitting curiously towards the collars.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Beautiful? It kind of feels like you’re freaking out.”

Blaine smiled, tipping his head onto Kurt’s shoulder. “I do. I want this. I’m just nervous about being in here. I haven’t felt like a capital-s Sub in a while. There’s expectations on me in here.”

“No one but me gets to put expectations on you,” Kurt reminded him. “I’ve got you, don’t be scared.”

“Okay,” Blaine agreed, like it was that easy. Maybe it was.

They took their time going through the selection, picking up different styles and materials. Kurt kept testing different colors against Blaine’s skin tone, though Blaine suspected he kept doing it because Blaine laughed every time. There were some braided cloth collars that Kurt seemed to like, but Blaine himself kept coming back to the leather ones.

He loved the leather of his cuff. He loved the way it absorbed his body heat, warming like a second skin. It had molded itself quickly to the shape of his wrist, like it was always meant to be a part of him. He liked the way the brown leather looked against his skin too, the richness of it bringing out the gold of his skin.

Most of the leather collars the store had were black, most with chunky silver fastenings, clips and tags. There were a couple, though, that he kept coming back to. Cautiously, he reached up to grab a slender brown leather collar. It was about as wide as two of his fingers pressed together, and made of thin leather. It had fastenings of a tarnished looking bronze, and single metal ring in the front, waiting for a tag. He could imagine Kurt’s name there, sitting at the base of his throat.

Kurt’s arm looped around his waist, chin settling on his shoulder. “Is that the one?”

“We can keep looking,” Blaine said distractedly, finger the leather. It was stiff now, but he could see how it would become supple with wear. He wanted to see if it would.

“If you like it, we don’t have to,” Kurt whispered in his ear, and Blaine shrugged.

“Do you like it?”

Kurt hummed softly, reaching out to take the collar. “I think it would look good on you. And it matches your cuff. You’d looks so good wearing just this and your cuff…”

Blaine leaned back into Kurt’s body, trying to ground himself. “We could get a tag- with your name on it.”

“Christ, Blaine,” Kurt whispered, his voice shaking a little. Blaine smiled a little, curling his hand over Kurt’s on the collar.

“I think this is it.”

Blaine hardly paid attention as Kurt brought the collar, excitement settling into his blood. The ride back to their loft had never seemed so long, even with Kurt’s fingers under his cuff to calm him. He wanted, a desire that settled into his bones, throbbing there.

His knees hit the floor the second they were in the loft, barely even in the door. He felt desperate, almost wild. “Please, Sir. Please Sir, put it on me.”

Kurt was looking down at him with a mixture of amusement and arousal. “Take your shirt of, Beautiful,” he instructed, and Blaine did, while Kurt unwrapped the collar from its packaging.

Kurt’s fingers slid into Blaine’s hair, fisting lightly so he could tip Blaine’s head back. Blaine went with it easily, baring his neck for Kurt, blinking up at him through his lashes. Kurt swore softly, bending down to suck harshly at Blaine’s lips.

Then he was pulling back, wrapping the leather around Blaine’s neck. Blaine’s eyes slid shut, shudders running through him as collar tightened. Kurt’s fingers slid under the collar to check the fit, and Blaine couldn’t help the small whimper that left his lips.

The fog was already descending in his brain, the overwhelming feeling of safety and belonging. He’d never felt so owned before, and it was wonderful. “Please, Sir.”

“What do you need, Beautiful?”

His Dom’s hand was back in his hair now and he leaned into it. “Can I make you come? Please, sir.”

“Of course you can. Such a good boy. Can you open up for me, Beautiful?” Kurt’s thumb pressed firmly against Blaine’s chin, and Blaine parted his lips easily, eyes slipping shut.  

He could hear the sound of Kurt’s belt being undone, and he shivered with it, happy to get lost in this. It felt strangely like coming home.

—

Holidays

They decided to spend the Thanksgiving in Lima.

It had been Kurt’s suggestion, and he could tell the idea was making Blaine nervous. It would be the first time they had gone back to Ohio since Blaine’s move out to New York, and Kurt knew he would much rather spend the three days he had off from school in their loft with just the two of them.

But it had been years since Kurt had spent Thanksgiving with his parents, and this year the desire to be with his family settled deep into his heart. He missed his dad, in a way he hadn’t since he first moved out to the city. Taking a sub had opened up a connection between them that had previously been closed. They were more than father and son now, but also two Doms with subs of their own. He couldn’t deny that part of him wanted to show off Blaine, show off how well he was doing, how much he amazed Kurt every day.

But the idea was making Blaine nervous, and that sat uncomfortably on Kurt’s skin, a prickly edge of not right where instinct was telling him to do whatever it took to put Blaine at ease. Blaine wouldn’t say no about this, it was against his nature, against everything in him that wanted to be good and make Kurt happy. But he didn’t hide his nervousness, and Kurt was grateful for that.

So they talked about it, what Thanksgiving would be like in New York verses what it would be like in Lima. If they spent it with Kurt’s family it would be the two of them, Burt and Carole, and Finn and his wife, a family. In New York, it would be just them.

“Do you not want to spend Thanksgiving with me?” Blaine had asked timidly, and Kurt had immediately felt terrible.

“No, no, not at all, of course I do, baby.” Kurt had reached out then to pull Blaine close. He ran his fingers through Blaine’s hair until his sub relaxed in his arms and continued. “We’ll spent Christmas together in New York. My parents always come up for a couple days, but not usually on Christmas itself. My dad usually gives the guys at the shop Christmas Eve and Christmas day off, but he doesn’t like closing on the holidays, so he stays around in case of emergencies. I just thought we could go down and see them for Thanksgiving. They want family there, and I’ve never had reason to go back before, but I do now.”

“I’m not family to them,” Blaine had whispered, so quiet Kurt could barely hear him.

“Of course you are. You’re mine, Beautiful. You’re as much family as Carole, or Finn’s Dom. As long as you’re mine, there will be a place for you there.”

“I’ll always be yours,” Blaine responded quiet but sincere, and Kurt’s heart had glowed.

Now, poised on the eve of leaving, Blaine’s nerves had come back. Kurt could feel the tension in him where they were pressed together back to chest, the kind of energy thrumming through his body that meant sleep wouldn’t be coming anytime soon. The quiet was becoming oppressive, to the point where even Kurt was on edge, and eventually he had to resign himself to the fact that Blaine wasn’t going to talk unprompted.

Sighing, he snuggled in closer, using the arm he had slung across Blaine’s waist to rub soothing circles into his stomach over his soft cotton sleep shirt. “Why are you scared?” he asked softly.

Blaine was quiet for a time, and Kurt could feel the shifting tension in his body, the anxiety. He kissed Blaine’s neck softly, letting his face rest there, lips against Blaine’s neck and nose in his hair. He smelled perfect.

“Going to Ohio is going to mean seeing my parents. Or my mom at least. You told her I’d see her when we came back.”

“You don’t have to,” Kurt reassured him. He rucked up Blaine’s shirt a little, so he could slide his palm across the bare skin of Blaine’s stomach, continuing the soothing circles. “I’m not going to make you see her. I didn’t mean to make you think I ever would. I would never force you to do something you don’t want to do, Blaine, that includes seeing your mother.”

“But you think I should. I know that, I know you.”

The hair on Blaine’s stomach prickled at Kurt’s hand. He sighed, scratching his fingers lightly through it as he spoke. “I think you leaving was harder on her than you think it was. She lost you two years earlier than she expected.”

“She lost me before that.”

The words were so quiet Kurt barely heard them. His chest panged in sympathy, aching for the boy who had spent so much of his life feeling alone. “I’m not going to make you see her. But I do think you should give her a chance.”

If Kurt had thought about it, really thought about it, he would have realized that for Blaine, a choice like that was no choice at all. When an expectation was placed on him, he would always try to rise to that expectation because disappointing anyone (and Kurt most of all) was the worst outcome to him. If Kurt had thought about it, he would have realized that.

But instead, caught up in the excitement of the holidays and tired from the lateness of the hour, he just snuggled down and went to sleep.

The plain ride was uneventful. Blaine’s anxieties seemed to have faded, and he spent most of the ride curled up against Kurt’s side with a novel for his English class. When Kurt’s fingers tucked under his cuff, habit more than anything else, he met Kurt’s smile with his own, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Kurt’s father was waiting for them at the airport in Columbus, flannel clad and topped with a baseball cap. He pulled Kurt into a hug the minute he was within reach and Kurt sank into it, into the familiar smells of motor oil and aftershave. Blaine hung back, seemingly content to let him have their moment, but Kurt watched in amusement as Burt release Kurt and pulled Blaine into a hug as well.

He was frozen stiff, unmoving, until Burt muttered “Relax, kid,” and Kurt watched his sub unwind, arms coming up cautiously to return the hug.

“Thank you for having me,” Blaine said awkwardly, once Burt had pulled back.

“How long does it take for him to stop thanking you for stuff?” Burt asked Kurt over Blaine’s head, and Kurt chuckled lightly as Blaine’s cheeks colored.

“Only until he’s comfortable.” He reached out, pulling Blaine against his side. “Now he only thanks me for things when I want him to.”

Burt’s laughter drown out Blaine’s indignant protest, and Kurt grinned as Blaine buried his flushed cheeks in Kurt’s neck. “We tease because we love you,” Kurt reminded him, kissing Blaine’s hair, and Burt chuckled again.

“Come on you two. We’ve still got a drive back, and I’m sure Carole’s impatient to see you.”

The rest of Wednesday night passed in pre-Thanksgiving festivities and planning for the next day. Carole had a way of drawing Blaine out of his shell, and by the time they went to bed for the night, Blaine seemed as relaxed as he usually did in New York.

It was after they settled down in Kurt’s old bed (the first bed they’d ever shared), that Blaine said into the darkness “I talked to my mom before we left. I’m going to see her on Friday.”

“That’s great, sweetheart,” Kurt said happily, squeezing Blaine’s hand in his. “Where are you meeting?”

“At their house. She has some things to take care of, apparently, so I told her I’d just come to her there.”

That gave Kurt pause. He’d expected them to meet a neutral location, somewhere that wouldn’t have history for Blaine. But then again, this entire town had history for Blaine. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” He asked softly.

Blaine shrugged. “I’m not sure the meeting in general is a good idea. But like you said, she’s my mom. That’s what matters in the end.”

“What matters in the end is you being safe,” Kurt said worriedly, “Physically and emotionally, Blaine.”

Blaine remained quiet, and Kurt rolled over to look at him, more worried still. “I can handle it,” Blaine promised, meeting Kurt’s eyes. “If I can’t, I’ll call you and you can come get me. Okay?”

“Okay,” Kurt agreed.

Blaine kissed him softly, all warm lips and sweet tongue, snuggling down into Kurt’s arms when they broke apart. “I know you want what’s best for me.”

“I do,” Kurt said softly. “Always.”

Thanksgiving was a crazy affair. Kurt rose early, leaving Blaine soft and sleepy, sprawled out in bed. He met Carole in the kitchen, and together they began to plow their way through the food they had to prepare for the day. Kurt liked cooking with Carole, had since his dad married her when he was a teenager. They fell into a rhythm easily, pausing only to have a cup of coffee with Burt when he wandered in for breakfast.

By the time Blaine stumbled down the stairs at half past ten, they had the turkey well on it’s way to being done, and Kurt was working on pie. Carole, who was busy skinning potatoes at the sink, greeted Blaine with a smile and a cup of coffee. Kurt watched as Blaine took the cup from her gratefully, hugging her sideways in thanks.

“Hey sweetie,” Kurt muttered as Blaine came up to him, setting his coffee cup down on the table next to the pie plate and wrapping his arms around Kurt. He swayed a little, covering Blaine’s hands on his waist with his own, and he could feel Blaine’s smile pressed into his shoulder.

“Can I help?” Blaine asked, voice still a little sleepy.

“I think we’ve got it under control,” Kurt said fondly, and Carole made an affirmative noise from the sink.

“You can help by keeping Burt company,” she suggested. “He’s watching a game right now, but if he’s left alone too much longer, he’s going to wander in here and start bothering us.”

Blaine hummed disbelievingly, arms squeezing a little around Kurt’s waist. “Somehow I don’t feel like watching a football game is helpful.”

“Go,” Kurt said with a grin, unlacing Blaine’s arms from around his waist. He twist around to kiss Blaine softly. “Go bond with my dad. I’ll let you know if we need anything, but Finn and Angie should be here soon enough, and she’ll be able pick up any slack we have without burning it.”

“My cooking’s getting better,” Blaine pouted, and Kurt laughed, affection swelling inside him.

“It is,” he agreed. “Go on.” After another quick press of lips, Kurt turned back to the pie crust he was rolling out and Blaine headed out into the living room.

“Look at you,” Carole said softly, and he looked up at her, raising an eyebrow in question. “The boy who never wanted a sub. You’re so good with him.”

Kurt flushed, looking down at his pie. “He makes it easy. It’s instinct, mostly.”

“Mhm,” She hummed in agreement. “It’s just nice to see you happy.”

“It’s nice to be happy,” He admitted, and they shared a soft smile.

Things got a bit crazy once Finn and his wife Angie arrived. Blaine had never met his step brother, and Kurt knew that new Dom’s made Blaine nervous, even a female one, so he wasn’t at all surprised that once they arrived Blaine stuck pretty close to his side. It was fine though, they were at the final hurdle of the meal preparation, so the two of them withdrew to set the table while Carole and Angie finished the cooking.

Burt and Finn emerged as they started bringing food out, both lending hands where they could. Soon enough, they were all settled down around the table, and Kurt let it wash over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had everyone he considered family in the same place. It might have been his high school graduation, and then he hadn’t had Blaine.

(Which was because Blaine was around 7 years old at the time, but generally Kurt tried not to think about that too much.)

Shaking himself, Kurt caught his sub’s eye, smiling at him. Blaine smiled back, tentative but happy, and Kurt caught his hand under the table. I love you he mouthed to Blaine, and Blaine grinned back. I love you, too.

The rest of the day rushed passed in a whirl-wind of family and good food. It took a while for Blaine to unwind, but he got there eventually. Burt drew him into a conversation about where he would be applying for college, which was basically every performing arts school in New York City, as Kurt pointed out fondly.

Dinner was followed by Burt, Blaine, Finn and Angie being sucked back into the world of football. Kurt curled up on the couch next to his father, a sketch pad in his lap which he was aimlessly doodling hem lines in, and Blaine dropped onto the floor in front of him, back to the couch and his head resting on Kurt’s knees. It was a thinly veiled ploy to get Kurt to play with his hair, but Kurt was happy to indulge it. He was being so good, after all.

Surrounded by people and stuffed full, Kurt found himself getting drowsy easily. For the most part he was content to drift, the fingers of his left hand toying with Blaine’s curls, the right holding loosely on to his pencil, the game a familiar drone in the background. Not until Carole bid them goodnight did he admit he was pretty much falling asleep on the couch. It barely even eleven - god, he was getting old.

“I think I’m going to head to bed as well,” he announced, barely receiving any acknowledgement from anyone but Blaine, who smiled up at him from the floor.

“I’ll come too,” Blaine agreed, starting to stand.

“No, sweetie, you don’t have to. I just got up early. You’re welcome to stay.”

Blaine shrugged, straightening and offering Kurt his hand to pull him up. “I probably won’t sleep yet, but I want to keep you company.”

They walked up the stairs together, Kurt’s arm looped loosely around Blaine’s waist. Blaine leaned into him, their hips bumping occasionally, making them both smile.

“Thank you for talking me into this,” Blaine said quietly, once they were behind the closed door of Kurt’s old room. “I’m glad we came.”

“I am too,” Kurt agreed, pulling Blaine in for a kiss, long and slow.

“Now, I just have to get through tomorrow,” Blaine muttered, biting his lip.

“You’ll be fine,” Kurt reassured, and Blaine’s lips twitched.

“I hope so.”

Kurt fell asleep that night in the soft glow of a bedroom lamp, Blaine reading next to him.  He slept long and hard, waking up the next morning to the beeping of Blaine’s phone alarm.

The rest of the house had begun to stir by the time they made it downstairs, and they grabbed a quick breakfast with Finn and Angie before his step brother and his wife headed back to their home. The plan was for Kurt to drop Blaine off at his parent’s house, then kill time in town until Blaine called to be picked up. So Kurt settled down at the Lima Bean with a cup of coffee and his laptop, ready to catch up on some work.

Or that had been the plan, anyway. In reality, Kurt couldn’t have been there for more than an hour and a half when his cellphone buzzed with a text message from Blaine. Can you come get me? Please?

Kurt’s heart sank like a stone. Of course, he responded quickly, gathering up the collection of sketches and contracts scattered across the table, sliding them back into his bag along with his laptop. Thoughts cycled quickly through his head, racing. What could have gone wrong in under two hours?

The answer was immediately clear as Kurt pulled into the Anderson’s driveway. There was one more car parked there than there had been when he’d dropped Blaine off. His sub was sitting on the stairs of the front porch, bundled up in his peacoat and scarf, eyes red but dry. Knees curled up to his chest, Blaine looked tiny, and so much younger than Kurt had seen in months. It sent a sharp aching pain through his chest, made panic push at his throat. Instinct, telling him, protect.

Blaine stood as soon as Kurt pulled up to the house, and was waiting to meet the car by the time Kurt pulled up, pulling the door open as soon as the car stopped moving.

“Your dad came home?” Kurt guessed.

“Yes,” Blaine said shortly, sliding into the car and buckling up quickly. His hands were shaking, Kurt could see the tremors running through them, but Blaine pressed them to his thighs, stilling them. Trying to hold himself together, Kurt realized.

“What’d he say to you? I can go-”

“Kurt, please. I just wanna go, please, can we go?”

Blaine’s eyes weren’t dry anymore, filling up with tears as he curled in on himself, trying to disappear into the car seat. His shoulders curled protectively around himself, away from Kurt. He’s shutting me out, Kurt thought, and that hurt so much more than he was prepared for.

“Blaine, sweetheart, what happened?” Kurt asked in alarm, but Blaine shook his head, reaching up to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“Please can we just go?” There was a choke in Blaine’s voice, a tremor in it that Kurt had only heard a few times before. He was fighting for what composure he had, and Kurt realized that this was not a safe space for him to break down. This was Blaine telling Kurt what he needed. He needed to leave, to be as far away from this place as possible.

“Yeah.” Kurt shook himself, turning away from Blaine to put the car in reverse. “But you’ll tell me later?”

He could see Blaine shrug out of the corner of his eye, his head tipping sideways to rest on the glass of the window. Tentatively, he reached out, sliding his fingers through Blaine’s, left hand still on the steering wheel. His sub’s fingers twined back through his with a small squeeze, and he took a deep breath. This was a good sign, they’d talk about it later.

Blaine stayed quiet on the car ride back to Kurt’s parents house, and Kurt focused on the road, tuning the energy and itching need to control into getting them there as quickly and safely as possible. Their hands separated as they pulled into the driveway, but Kurt couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to Blaine once he was out of the car. The fact that Blaine still reached back felt like a small miracle.

The living room was empty, Kurt could hear his parents voices coming from the kitchen, and Blaine allowed himself to be pulled into the empty room.

“Please,” Kurt said softly, pulling Blaine in close. He reached up, brushing his fingers across the curls falling softly across Blaine’s forehead. “Tell me?”

A question, not a command. He couldn’t order this from Blaine. It didn’t seem to matter though, Blaine sighed, head dropping. “It went fine at first, until I started talking about college. Then mom got weird. She said that it was fine to be thinking about college when I was still unclaimed, or if I’d been in a temporary claim. But she says that since I’m already claimed, I should put my energy into cooking, or keeping house, or all these stupid things. And then I explained, you know, that you usually cook, and that you don’t expect that from me but she kept saying so politely that I’m a terrible sub and-”

“Blaine,” Kurt cut off him off before the stream of words turned hysterical. “You’re not a terrible sub, sweetheart.”

“I know that!” Blaine snapped, and then his hand tugged sharply out of Kurt’s. “That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“Of course doesn’t,” Kurt soothed, reaching back out for him.

Blaine shook his head, arms crossing over his chest. “Then Dad came home, and it just got worse. I knew this was a bad idea Kurt, I knew it.”

Guilt struck hard in Kurt’s stomach. He’d pushed Blaine into this. “What can I do?” He asked softly.

Blaine sighed, and he seemed to deflate, arms dropping to his side, shoulders losing their defensive hunch. “I think I just need some space. Okay? Don’t be… I’m okay, Kurt. I just need to collect myself.”

Away from you. Kurt swallowed, and the weight of guilt in his stomach seemed to double. “Of course. You can - my room, if you want. I’ll give you space.”

“Thanks,” Blaine sighed, and he started walking away,  leaving Kurt staring through the wall where he’d been before. Then he felt soft fingers touching the inside of his wrist, a shy mimic of the way he touched Blaine so often. “And thank you for coming to get me. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Kurt returned.

He was still standing there, staring at the wall, when his father wandered in. “Everything okay, kid?”

“This was my fault.” The crack in Kurt’s voice surprised him. “I screwed up, Dad. This is my fault, I told him he should do this.”

Burt was silent for a minute, and of course, he wouldn’t know what Kurt was talking about. Kurt sighed, trying to summon the words to explain. But then his dad’s hand was on his shoulder.

“Doesn’t matter,” Burt said gruffly, “Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter. You love that boy with all you’ve got, you want the best for him. Always. There’s no way he doesn’t know that, Kurt. You’re allowed to screw up.”

“Not when it hurts him.”

His father’s hand tightened on his shoulder, a reassuring squeeze, and Kurt leaned into it. Give him space. Out of all the things Blaine could have asked for, being left alone was absolutely the hardest to give. Kurt itched with it, guilt weighing heavily on him. Space. He sighed, pulling away from his father’s touch and grabbing a magazine from a nearby table. Maybe that would distract him for a while.

It didn’t. But between flipping through glossy pages selling furniture, and helping Carole reheat Thanksgiving leftovers for dinner, he managed to pass enough time until the sun was down, and he felt he could reasonably go check on Blaine.

The door to his bedroom was cracked, and Kurt approached it cautiously. Carefully, he peered through the crack in the door, taking in the boy laid out on the bed. Blaine was on his side, arms out in front of him like he’d been playing with his cuff. Softly, Kurt knocked on the frame of the door, smiling sadly when Blaine looked up at him. “Can I come in?”

Blaine nodded, and Kurt pushed the door open. The light from the hallway was the only source of light in the room, so Kurt flicked on a lamp before sinking to his knees on the side of the bed in front of Blaine. The lamplight cast a soft glow across Blaine’s form, giving his skin a warm, golden glow.

Kurt sighed, reaching out to catch Blaine’s wrist. Carefully, he pulled Blaine’s arm towards him, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the warm leather cuff on his wrist. The position felt oddly submissive, baring the tender curve of his neck to Blaine. It felt like penance.

“Kurt?” Blaine asked softly, hesitantly.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt murmured. The guilt that had been sitting heavy in Kurt’s stomach turned. “I pushed you into this. I thought I knew what you needed better than you did, and that wasn’t fair of me.”

“Kurt,” Blaine sighed, and then he could feel Blaine’s fingers touching his hair softly. Blaine knew better that to try and tangle his fingers in like Kurt often did to his, but the touch was comforting nonetheless. “Kurt, please look at me.”

He tilted his head up, chin resting on Blaine’s wrist instead, and Blaine’s fingers slid down to touch his cheek. “Hi,” Kurt said softly.

Blaine smiled, a real smile that reached his eyes. “Hi. Kurt, I don’t blame you. I know you want what’s best for me. And I know you don’t understand my family.”

“I promised I wouldn’t try to control your life outside of sex. I made that promise to you, Blaine, and then I just…treated you like a child. And I’m so sorry.”

Blaine sighed, eyes slipping shut for a moment, then they opened again, crystal clear. “Kurt, you’re my partner. Before you’re my Dom, you’re my partner, and I’ll always value your opinion. I just need to know that you can give it to me in such away that it doesn’t become an expectation. Because I’m never going to be able to do something that I think will let you down.” Blaine’s voice was so soft when he spoke, collected and calm. Kurt let it seep into him.

“I’ll try.”

“That’s all I can ask,” Blaine reassured, and Kurt let out a breath. “Can you get up here and hold me now?”

“Of course I can,” Kurt agreed.

Blaine fit perfectly against the curve of his body, as Kurt curled up behind his sub, his arm around Blaine’s waist. His nose tucked in perfectly at the crock of Blaine’s jaw, the familiar smell of him like a balm, soap and cologne and boy.

“We’re okay, Kurt. I promised,” Blaine muttered, and just for a while, Kurt let himself believe it.

It didn’t feel okay, though. Kurt didn’t feel okay, even once they returned to New York. The city was coming alive with light and the smell of snow was in the air. Christmas was coming to New York, but Kurt couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel anything but guilt. The December chill that settled into the city seemed to sink into Kurt’s bones, throwing off his focus.

Blaine, to his credit, seemed to take Kurt’s discomfort in stride. He stayed close when he could, a soothing presence on Kurt’s scuffed nerves. More often than not recently, Blaine would turn up at Kurt’s office after school, and curl up in a chair with a book or homework, seemingly content just to share space.

That didn’t change the fact that Kurt couldn’t seem to figure out how to <be around Blaine anymore. Nothing had changed, nothing at all, and yet Kurt found himself second guessing every touch. The daily, thoughtless acts of dominance, fingers on a bared neck or tucked warm under a cuff, scared him in their thoughtlessness. He was more aware than ever of how his very presence affected Blaine.

Of course, when Blaine started to get drawn and pale, the physical manifestations of Sickness threatening to show themselves in his sub, Kurt realized that his reluctance to dominate could cost Blaine as dearly as any misstep on his part could. So he played his part, and all the while guilt compounded in his heart. Acts that were suppose to feel loving felt forced, and it scared him. More often than not, he’d find himself cradled against Blaine’s chest after sex, shaking with the magnitude of his sub’s trust in him, Blaine’s voice all the while whispering love in his ear.

It came to a head a few weeks before Christmas. The sun was gone for the day, their loft lit by the lamps around Kurt’s sketch table and the bright glow of their Christmas tree. Kurt was supposed to be working, designing a costume for some new pop goddess for an awards show, but his heart wasn’t in it. Across the open space of the loft, Blaine was gliding around smoothly, content to lose himself in the crooning Christmas classic tumbling out of a recently acquired record player. Kurt’s focus kept slipping back to his sub, drawn by the easy pivot and glide of Blaine’s body as he danced by himself, a new comfort in his own bones that Kurt was still getting used to.

“You can dance with me, you know,” Blaine said slyly, looking over at Kurt from under his lashes. He spun around once, landing with his feet cross and his arm extended in Kurt’s direction, an invitation.

“I’m working,” Kurt said softly, through his own smile, and Blaine rolled his eyes.

“It seems like you’re staring, to me,” he sassed, hips swaying to the easily, familiar rhythm, holiday jazz from a time Blaine seemed to spend his life imitating. “I’d like it, you know. If you danced with me.”

Kurt sighed, admitting to himself that there wasn’t really any chance he’d accomplish anything tonight anyway, and set his pencil aside. Blaine didn’t stop moving as Kurt walked towards him, a playful smile on his lips, and when Kurt’s hands settled on his hips he could feel the sway in them.

“Hey there,” Blaine murmured, eyes sparkling as his arms came to slide up over Kurt’s shoulders. “Come here often?”

“Fairly often, yes,” Kurt said dryly, and Blaine giggled, tucking his nose in against the base of Kurt’s throat.

Dancing together was easy, their bodies finding a rhythm, clicking together with the easy that came from intimate knowledge of your partner. Kurt lead, and Blaine followed, swaying and moving with and around each other like they were built to inhabit each other’s space. Maybe they were.

The next song on the record was slower, melancholy and soft, and Blaine drew in close as their steps slowed to a mere rock. Blaine was warm in his arms, wrapped in a soft cardigan of maroon and black, smelling faintly of cinnamon and coffee, and the sharp, distinct smell of the gel he hadn’t washed out yet.

Kurt sighed, tipping his head down against Blaine’s, the roughness of the gel a sharp contrast to the soft curls he was used to. “I think I can hear your hair crinkling,” he teased and Blaine laughed, his body close enough that Kurt could feel the vibrations of it.

They lapsed into silence again, wrapped up in each other and the slow rock of the music. “This is nice,” Blaine said softly, lips brushing Kurt’s neck when he spoke. “I miss how you used to touch me - when you didn’t think I was going to break.”

“Blaine,” Kurt began, heart sinking in his chest. His feet slowed, ready to stop dancing, but Blaine kept them swaying, kept them moving.

“No, I get it,” he reassured. “I really do. I can’t imagine having to deal with the kind of responsibility Doms carry - it would crush me. And I know you’re strong, I know you’re absolutely built for this, but…I don’t blame you for the doubt. If anyone understands doubt, it’s a recovering sub.”

This was something new, something recent, Blaine’s willingness to acknowledge his past hurt and the ways he was moving past it. Kurt knew that his sub group at Dalton talked a lot about ‘recovery’, and he could see the way it resonated in Blaine, the positivity it gave him. Still, it made him pause now, made him think about this wonderful boy and the root of the guilt that still weighed heavily on him.

“I can’t imagine doing anything worse than hurting you,” he admitted softly. “It eats away at me, how careless I let myself be because it seemed like you were better.”

“I am better,” Blaine murmured, tipping his head up off Kurt’s shoulder. “Or getting there, at least. But there are some things I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to handle, no matter how much better I get. There’s a good chance that going in that house again might be one of them.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said, the guilt in his chest pulsing sharply. “I’m so sorry I pushed you into it.”

“I know you are.” There was a tenderness in Blaine’s voice that made him seem older than seventeen. “But you’re not being fair to yourself.”

“I don’t-” Kurt began helplessly, but Blaine cut him off with a soft kiss.

“When I screw up,” Blaine pointed out softly, “You punish me, and I know I’m forgiven. What do I have to do to let you know that you’re forgiven? That I still trust you and love you and need you to be my Dom?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt admitted, finally coming to a stop as he watched Blaine think.

Slowly, a smile spread across Blaine’s face. He pulled back, but caught Kurt’s hand as it fell from his waist, twining their fingers together. “I have an idea.”

Kurt allowed himself to be steered into their bedroom, the record still crooning softly by the tree. Blaine pushed him gently towards the bed and he went, sitting down on the edge and watching Blaine, curiosity and nervousness mixing in his chest. This felt new and different, Blaine dictating the terms of their play. He wasn’t entirely sure how what to do, so he sat with his hands clasped, watching as Blaine pulled out their toy box from under the bed, smiling openly at Kurt with a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

The collar was the first thing to come out, and Kurt chuckled dryly, shaking his head. It never got old really, how much Blaine loved that collar, even if Kurt hadn’t put it on him in a while. The brown leather circle was followed by a pair of cuffs, black leather that hugged Blaine’s wrists and highlighted the tantalizing musculature in his forearms.

The final item Blaine drew out of the box surprised Kurt. They’d only used the spread bar once, and that time they’d had to stop, Kurt had been able to feel how uncomfortable it made Blaine. Having Blaine pull it out now was confusing at best.

Kurt reached out carefully, fingering one of the cuffs attached to the end of the black bar. “I thought you hated this,” he asked quietly, watching as Blaine knee-walked over to him, coming to rest with his arms folded across Kurt’s thighs. Kurt touched his cheek softly, and Blaine smiled at him.

“It makes me feel very vulnerable, and that’s hard for me to take sometimes. But I think right now you need me vulnerable. You need to know that you’re not going to break me, even when I’m at my weakest, and that I still trust you to take care of me.”

He couldn’t deny that the idea made his blood rush, settling into him with the a demanding ache to have Blaine spread out and tied down, a collar around his neck marking him as unequivocally Kurt’s. Only the lingering doubt held him back. “What if I go to far?”

“Kurt,” Blaine said very seriously, stretching up on his knees so they were eye to eye. “It’s my place to trust you to take care of me. But you need to trust me to stop you if you go too far. And more than, that, you need to learn to trust your instincts again.”

Kurt smiled, shaking his head. “You are wise beyond your years, Blaine Anderson.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The cocky, teasing nature of the statement was just enough to snap the instincts that had been boiling under Kurt’s skin for weeks, repressed. He reached out, pushing his fingers through the gel in Blaine’s hair, getting a light grip. He leaned in close, and Blaine tilted his face up for a kiss, but something in Kurt didn’t want to give in that easily. Close enough to share breath, he brushed his lips ever so slightly against Blaine’s, pulling back quickly and making Blaine whine.

It made him chuckle. “Take your clothes off, and kneel back down,” he instructed, pulling away from Blaine.

Turning his back on Blaine, Kurt gave himself a minute to get composed. He knew what he wanted to do here, knew it down in the fiber of his bones that never stopped knowing how to take Blaine and love him. He just needed to trust that. Learn to trust your instincts again.

He stripped methodically and efficiently, back still to Blaine. He could hear it when Blaine’s knees hit the floor, and it made him smile, good boy, so obedient. Still, he didn’t rush. He gathered his own clothes, and Blaine’s, draping them over a chair to deal with later, still not looking at Blaine. Walking over to the bed, he gathered up the toys laid out there, finally turning to face his sub.

Blaine was so pretty on his knees, arms hanging loosely at his sides, looking up at Kurt with clear, bright eyes. He wasn’t going to go under yet, Kurt realized. He was keeping himself present, making Kurt work for it, like a challenge. The urge to control curled hot in Kurt’s stomach, and he met Blaine’s gaze with a raise eyebrow.

The skin on Blaine’s neck was smooth, warm, when he reached out to touch it, trailing his fingers along the tender skin as he walked in a slow circle around his sub, taking in the position thoughtfully, assessing, deciding where he wanted to go with this. Shivers ran visibly through Blaine’s body at the touch, and that felt like a validation. Even with Blaine trying to resist the pull of it, Kurt could put him under so easily.

He stopped in front of Blaine, tipping his head up, baring the vulnerable curve of his throat. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” He murmured, without thinking, and smiled when Blaine’s eyes slide shut, another shiver racing through his body at the words.

“Yes, Sir. Yours.”

Bracing the spread bar against his leg, and tucking the cuffs under his arm, Kurt reached out to loop the collar around Blaine’s neck. It fit so perfect, snug at the base of his throat above his beautiful collarbones, the tag engraved with Kurt Hummel, falling just above the dip between the bones. His pressed his thumb against the tag absently, humming. “Mm, perfect.”

He could see the release of tension already spreading through Blaine’s body, so quick with the collar. Carefully, purposefully, he trailed his fingers across the delicate skin of Blaine’s face, brushing across his eyelids. “I want you to keep these closed for me, Beautiful.”

Blaine swallowed, and the motion seemed exaggerated by the collar around his neck. “Yes, Sir.”

“I don’t want you to speak unless I ask a question,” Kurt continued, beginning to circle around Blaine again. Resting his hands on Blaine’s shoulders, he slid them down, pulling Blaine’s arms behind his back. “I don’t want you to move from where I put you. I want you to stay still and quiet for me, and take what I give you. Tell me you understand.”

Blaine’s breath left him in a shaky shudder, and he responded with a measured “I understand, Sir.”

“Good boy,” Kurt praised, kneeling down behind Blaine, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. The cuffs he wound around Blaine’s wrists, fastening them snugly. He took a moment to let himself appreciate the way the position of his arms pulled at the muscles of Blaine’s back. He looked so good like this, all lean muscle poised in perfect submission.

Now for the bar. Kurt looked down at the metal in his hands, weighing his options. The cuffs were multi-sized, able to be secured around Blaine’s calves or thighs, depending on Kurt’s intention. Fastening the bar around Blaine’s ankles would put less pressure on his hips, requiring him to spread his legs less. But Kurt knew the limits of Blaine’s body well, and knew he was flexible enough to take a wider spread, as long as Kurt didn’t keep him in it for too long. Putting the spread bar around his ankles would give him too much of a range of motion if he stayed on his knees, Kurt decided, and he really wanted his sub kneeling.

“Spread you legs more, Beautiful,” Kurt instructed, a happy chill running through him when Blaine complied. “I’m going to put the bar between your knees. If it becomes too uncomfortable to handle, say ‘yellow.’ Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Kurt took his time fastening the bar between Blaine’s spread legs, checking his balance, his position in relation to the bed, taking note of the bunch of his muscles, places on his body that would get sore first. It was calming, this kind of focus, centering him in a way he’d been lacking.

Finally, he put his hand on the center of Blaine’s back, the other arm looped around the front of him as a brace, pushing forward until Blaine started to bend at the waist. Kurt had calculated the placement well enough that Blaine’s head and upper chest came to rest on the mattress of their bed, leaving his body at a ninety degree angle, ass in the air and legs spread wide.

Positioned like this, arms secured behind his back, legs locked in place, body tipped forward and off balance, Blaine literally could not move. It was the most vulnerable he’d ever been for Kurt, and it sung in Kurt’s blood like a drug. Still, he needed to check, pressing his hand against Blaine’s back, checking his breathing. It seemed regular, and when Kurt leaned forward to check his face, his expression was calm, blissed out.

Reassured, Kurt pulled back to survey the scene he’d laid for himself. Blaine’s perfect ass on display, practically begging to be taken. Oh god, Kurt wanted to be inside him so badly. Reaching out, he ran both hands down the curve of Blaine’s ass, squeezing the flesh under his palms lightly. “I’m going to go grab lube, Beautiful. You won’t be able to see me, but I’m not leaving.”

Blaine didn’t responded, didn’t move or speak or open his eyes, such a good boy, but Kurt rushed to the bedside and back quickly. It felt wrong to leave Blaine exposed like that, not to be touching him, reassuring him. His hands drew to Blaine’s sides as soon as he settled in behind his sub, checking the strain of the muscles in his hips absently, before sliding back to squeeze his ass again.

He took his time with prep, reading the responses of Blaine’s body that his sub couldn’t control, the tiny roll of his hips, the clamping of his internal muscles in response to waves of pleasure. Still, Blaine stayed as still as he could, remained perfectly quiet, and Kurt murmured praise as he slid his fingers into the tight grasp of Blaine’s body.

Three fingers in, Blaine’s body was trembling with every pass over his prostate, and Kurt could not hold back any longer. He slicked himself quickly, guiding himself to Blaine’s softly clenching hole, pushing in with a long moan. The tiniest of sounds fell from Blaine’s lips, bitten off quickly, but still it made Kurt smile. “You can make noise, Beautiful, just don’t talk. I want to hear how good I make you feel.”

Blaine moaned softly, tremors running through his body again, making him clench around where Kurt was buried inside him. “Fuck,” Kurt breathed out harshly, hips snapping forward into his sub, pulled in by the sweet, hot pressure.

He settled into a rhythm easily, already too impatient to draw it out any longer and intensely aware of the pressure on Blaine’s legs. Fingers curling into the pronounced curve of muscle Blaine’s hip, Kurt pulled Blaine back to meet his thrusts, revelling in the helpless cries that fell from his sub’s lips. The sweet seduction of being inside, being surrounded by tightness and heat was making him sweat, making him ache to his core.

Blaine’s cock, when Kurt reached around to take it in his hand, was wet with precome, hard and hot against his palm. God, he loved the sensation of this, the weight and girth of Blaine’s cock in his hand, undeniable proof of how good his sub felt. Possession curled hot in his stomach, the waves of mine rolling through him with every thrust.

“C-come,” Kurt croaked, voice breaking with his own pleasure. “Come for me, Beautiful.”

And Blaine did, body seizing up almost before the words had left Kurt’s mouth. It was so blazingly hot, the way Blaine’s body responded to him, the hot clench of him, and Kurt just lost it, slamming into Blaine as his orgasm crashed through him.

He collapsed a bit, falling forward onto Blaine as his body tingled, a faint ringing in his ears. He didn’t remember the last time he’d come like that. Physically unable to move, he lay slumped against Blaine’s back until Blaine’s voice, broken with being bitten back, floated back to him. “Yellow, Kurt, yellow. Can we get me out of this, please?”

“Yeah, of course, yeah,” Kurt said quickly, pulling back, fumbling with the cuffs on the bar with shaking fingers. Cautious of cramped muscles, he helped Blaine draw his legs back together to a more comfortable position, making sure he was stable before reaching up to undo his wrist. Blaine fell back against him heavily, his body shaking in Kurt’s arms, and Kurt held him close, waves of emotion crashing through him, pride and adoration and deep seated thankfulness for this wonderful, incredible boy.

“Are you alright?,” Kurt asked softly, resting his head on Blaine’s sweaty shoulder.

Blaine made a weak thumbs up motion with one hand, saying dazedly, “I’m awesome,” and Kurt giggled. “A little sore.”

“I figured. Will you let me give you a massage?”

“Like I would say no to that,” Blaine muttered, exhaustion heavy in his voice.

It was latter, when Blaine was laid out on his stomach, boneless from the massage and Kurt’s closeness, that Kurt spoke again. He was still kneeling straddling Blaine’s lower back, hands trailing across his sub’s skin, more of a gentle caress now than an actual message.

“Thank you,” he said into the quiet of the their room, tracing the shape of Blaine’s shoulder blade as he spoke. “This was exactly what I needed. Thank you for knowing that, and giving it to me.”

Blaine hummed softly, eyes still closed in relaxation. “You do it for me all the time, every day. I’m happy to give back when you need it.”

Kurt smiled, shaking his head a little. Some other subs, a lot of them, wouldn’t have been able to what Blaine did today, taking control of his own submission. The kind of courage it took to not only allow control to be taken from you, but to give it freely, was astonishing when Kurt thought about it. Despite his history, or maybe because of it, Blaine had an incredible strength in him which made him entirely perfect for Kurt.

“I’m so grateful for you,” Kurt murmured, and it felt like an admission. Carefully he stretched out, laying himself out across Blaine’s back, covering his sub’s body with his own. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Blaine returned easily. “And I’m grateful, too. In case there was any question.”

Kurt laughed softly, kissing the soft skin behind Blaine’s ear. “There wasn’t.”

They would have to get up and shower soon, wash the sweat and come and massage oil off their bodies. But the world finally felt right again, and Kurt didn’t want to move. They slotted together so well, wrapping around each other so easily. Vague thoughts of happiness and home and holiday cheer floated lazily around his brain, undercut by the familiar smell of Blaine’s skin beneath him.

They would be okay, now. They would have their New York Christmas, dustings of snow on eyelashes and peppermint mocha flavored kisses. They’d sleep in late on Christmas day, exchange gifts and kisses in the warmth of their loft, then venture out into the cold to greet their friends, their found family, and celebrate with them. A couple days would pass, and they’d have Christmas again, meeting Kurt’s parents at the airport and sharing the city with them for a time. They’d count down the new year together, and kiss on the hour. They’d find new holiday traditions to share together, building their new life.

But for now, Kurt was content to drift just a little bit longer, wrapped around the boy he loved.

—

Cups of Coffee

Blaine had never been much of a coffee drinker before he met Kurt. Of course, he’d had it before. Early mornings had never been easy for him and coffee did help kick-start his brain.

In Lima, though, he’d never really had the time or money to get coffee from the Lima Bean before school, and he didn’t like it enough to drink it casually with the other kids from Glee after. (If they even thought to invite him.) Typically, he stuck with drip coffee made at home, taken with enough sugar to cut the bitterness since cream and whole milk never sat well with him. No, Blaine had never been big on coffee.

Kurt, though, was a coffee enthusiast. He was the one who introduced Blaine to espresso, smooth and stronger than drip coffee, without the ashen bitterness. Kurt, upon learning of Blaine’s lactose issues (I don’t care if you’re not ‘actually’ lactose intolerant, Blaine, there’s no reason to make yourself suffer. Plus, this is just a new culinary challenge to rise to!) he’d introduced Blaine to soy milk, and almond milk, and well. Blaine liked coffee a lot more when it was no whip soy lattes than when it was drip coffee drowning in sugar.

The taste of coffee, good coffee, was inextricably tied to memories of Kurt. It was high grade, fresh ground coffee made at home in Kurt’s ridiculously fancy coffee brewer, mixed with almond milk and just a dash of cinnamon and sugar. It was rich, dark espresso and foamy soy milk from the quirky coffee shops Kurt loved, kissing the taste of mocha off Kurt’s lips.

Coffee was seeing Kurt during long nights at work, swinging by long enough to drop off a fresh cup and get a kiss and whispered you’re so good to me. It was lazy weekend mornings in comfortable clothes, the rich, earthy smell of it mixing with the smell of Kurt’s clothes and skin. Coffee had become a taste Blaine equated with happiness.

Which was maybe why it tasted like ash, now. Blaine sighed, leg bouncing in edgy nervousness. He was early, he knew he was, Kurt wasn’t supposed to meet him here until 5:30, and Warbler practice had ended early. It wasn’t even twenty passed yet. Any other day, he would have hung around Dalton, passed the time with Kyle or Nick or any of the other boys he was friends with until he was supposed to meet Kurt.

No. He shook his head slightly, trying to ignore the reason he’d high-tailed it out of Dalton as quickly as possible, tried to ignore the nervous jitter of his leg, tried to ignore everything but the ache of his wrist from where he was twisting the cuff until it dug into his skin and focus on the taste of coffee on his tongue. The bell above the door would jingle every time it opened, and Blaine couldn’t stop his reflexive glances up at every sound.

Kurt came in ten minutes later, still five minutes before they were supposed to meet. The glances up at the door have had become cursory at that point, so when Blaine caught sight of Kurt’s long, slender frame pushing through the door to the coffee shop his heart jolted painfully in his chest.

Kurt glanced around the shop, smiling when his eyes landed on Blaine. He pointed to the counter, and then raised his eyebrows in Blaine’s direction. A small, matching smile graced Blaine’s face, despite his anxiety, and he shook his head, holding up his own half-empty coffee cup. More caffeine definitely wouldn’t help with the jitters he was feeling.

He’s here now, calm down Blaine instructed himself ruefully, forcing his leg still and unwinding his fingers from where they’d been twisting his cuff. He watched Kurt get in line, presumably to order his own drink. The distraction of coffee had worn thin, and Blaine let himself focus on his Dom instead. Kurt looked gorgeous, his winter coat fitted him beautifully, deep dark blue and thigh length, which seemed to make him even taller.

“I’m absolutely starving,” Kurt said in lieu of a greeting, leaning in to kiss Blaine’s temple before taking the seat across from him. “I do not have the energy to cook tonight - we’re eating out.”

Blaine’s heart sank, the edginess that had been bubbling under his skin throbbing painfully. The idea of trying to hold together, act like a normal human being in public, sounded really terrible to him right now. Be honest. Kurt always wants you to be honest, he reminded himself.

“Do you think… could we maybe get take-out or something? I don’t really feel up to being surrounded by people right now,” he asked, and his voice sounded smaller than he expected.

Kurt had been in the middle of taking a sip of coffee, and Blaine could see the way his face clouded over. He had to look away, down at his fingers on the coffee cup clutched in his hands, anxious and upset at himself for being anxious.

But then Kurt’s soft, cool fingers were touching his, sliding down to the inside of his wrist to touch the reddened skin there. He’d been twisting cuff until it bit into his skin, not even aware of the pain aside from that it helped ground him. Now Kurt’s fingers were running over the inflamed skin, and he had to acknowledge it. God, he felt like such a mess.

“What happened, Beautiful, what’s wrong?” Kurt’s voice was soft, worried but soothing on Blaine’s grated nerves.

“I… I don’t want to talk about it here. I will,” he reassured, looking up to meet Kurt’s gaze. “Just not here.”

Kurt’s face twisted, Blaine could see the battle going on behind his eyes, desire to respect Blaine’s wishes versus the instinct that needed to know what had upset him, and how he could fix it. “If that’s what you need…” Kurt trailed off, and Blaine nodded gratefully. Kurt nodded back decisively. “Right. Take out, then talking. Let’s go.”

Blaine couldn’t help but laugh, sinking into the ease Kurt’s presence brought to him. The worry, the need to help that Kurt showed sometimes warmed Blaine up from the inside, a practical reminder that he was so loved. “You just got your coffee,” he pointed out.

Kurt shrugged one shoulder, halfway out of his chair already. “I’ll drink it on the way. What do you want to eat?”

Blaine shrugged, following Kurt’s lead and bundling back into his jacket. He wasn’t all that hungry, anxiety knotting his stomach too much, but that lessened with every gentle brush of Kurt’s fingers, and he knew he needed to eat. “Something mild?” He suggested, taking the hand Kurt offered back to him. Their gloves blocked off their skin from touching, saving it from the chilly February air, but the pressure of Kurt’s hand in his felt nice all the same.

“Soup?” Kurt suggested, squeezing lightly on Blaine’s hand, and yes.

“That’s sounds perfect,” Blaine agreed.

He let himself drift a little as they walked. The coffee shop they met at wasn’t too far from their loft, and there was a cafe a couple blocks away that Blaine absolutely loved. He let himself zone out a little, eyes fixed on the ground in front of his feet as Kurt guided his movements by his hand. The hysterical edge to his panic had faded, and he let himself settle warmly against Kurt side. It was overtly submissive, sinking into the safety and strength of Kurt’s presence, but he found he didn’t care.

They stood in line together, pressed closer together than they usually were in public, and Blaine let it soak into him. Kurt ordered for both of them, but double checked Blaine’s order before they reached the counter, even though their order here was usually the same: a tomato bisque for Kurt and a chicken stew for Blaine.

The girl working behind the counter was new, older than Blaine but younger than Kurt, and she smiled at kindly at them. He gave a small smile in return, sinking further into Kurt. “Your sub is precious,” she said to Kurt as she took the money from him, a kind tone in her voice.

It would have irritated Blaine at any other time, being treated like an invisible person who couldn’t hear what other Doms said about him. Now though, he just reveled in the fact that people looked at him and saw that he belong to someone. To Kurt.

“That he is,” Kurt said, politely, taking his change from the girl with a tight smile. He guided Blaine over to wait for their order by a hand on his waist, leaning down to whisper in Blaine’s ear. “Okay, seriously, you have to tell me what’s going on because you’re not acting like yourself.”

“I will, I promise,” He assured, squeezing his eyes closed. “I’m just… getting lost in being yours right now. Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Kurt soothed, hugging him tight. “I’m just worried about you.”

“I’m probably just being melodramatic,” Blaine admitted, mouth twisting unhappily. “I just feel all messed up inside, and being close helps.”

“Okay,” Kurt said softly, rubbing his hand up and down Blaine’s back over his coat. They passed the rest of the time waiting for their soup like that, and Blaine left the cafe feeling more grounded, his hand curled in Kurt’s.

They were settled into couch in their loft, eating warm soup with moist, tender bread, before Blaine started talking. He could feel the way it was making Kurt itch, the not knowing driving him crazy, and Blaine’s own instinct were telling him to do whatever his Dom wanted. Kurt wanted him to talk, so he would.

He took a deep breath, settling back into the couch and running his thumb across the edge of his soup bowl. “A new boy started at school a couple weeks ago,” He began, voice soft, but he could feel the way Kurt’s attention snapped to him. “His name is Sebastian. He’s in the Warblers and a couple of my other classes. He’s a Dom.”

“Ahh,” Kurt said softly, and Blaine shrugged.

“He’s… really aggressive. Like, not violent or anything, at least I don’t have any reason to think so. But his presence just, invades your space.” Blaine paused, trying to figure out how to describe to Kurt the way subs could feel the intent of a Dom sometimes as a physical presence. “When he wants something, there’s no holding back, no holds barred. It’s the kind of energy that compels some subs, but it just makes me really uncomfortable. And like I said, when he wants something, you know it.”

“When you say ‘wants something’,” Kurt said carefully, and Blaine could hear the edge to his voice, “Do you mean someone?”

“I mean me,” Blaine admitted, the idea running up his spine unhappily. “He’s not at all subtle about it, very forward. He’s… well, he’s kind of a dick. He’s been kind of checking me out since his first day, but he approached me today. I told him I was claimed, and his reaction was basically doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.”

Blaine could feel, physically feel Kurt bristle at that, an angry edge crossing his face, and it made panic rise in his chest. “I’m yours, Kurt, I’m so yours, I kept telling him, but he wouldn’t listen, he just gets all up in my space, and I can’t get him to stop, I promise I’ve tried-”

“Blaine, stop.” Kurt cut him off, reaching up to cradle Blaine’s face in his hands. Their soup bowls wobbled precariously in their laps, and Kurt moved them quickly to the table in front of the couch, before moving back closer to Blaine, his fingers stroking Blaine’s skin. “I’m angry right now, but not at you, okay? I promise.”

Blaine took a deep breath, nodded, a let Kurt touch him as his Dom composed himself. Briefly he wished he’d had a chance to shower before this conversation, to wash the gel out of his hair. Kurt’s fingers in his curls  would be so soothing right now, for both of them.

“That school is supposed to specialize in fair treatment for subs, why is no one noticing that he’s harassing you?” Kurt’s voice was hard, and Blaine turned his face to nuzzle into Kurt’s hand, kissing his palm in the way that always made him smile. It worked, the corner of Kurt’s mouth twitching upward.

“I don’t know,” Blaine responded, letting his cheek rest against Kurt’s palm. “I think he’s just careful about it. I mean, all he does is talk to me. It’s not like he’s, you know, physical about it. It’s just upsetting that he can’t seem to grasp that I belong to someone already, and happily so.”

A small crease formed between Kurt’s brows as he frowned. “That doesn’t make it okay.”

Blaine shrugged. “To be honest, I think he would rub me the wrong way even if I wasn’t claimed. He’s an embodiment of everything I hate about my experiences in the past.”

Kurt was quiet for a moment, Blaine could see him processing. He knew Kurt, knew that his Dom would be trying to figure out a way to fix this, to make it go away. Honestly, now that he’d talked about it, Blaine just wanted to let it go, too wound up from being anxious and edgy all day. He wanted to sink and forget for a while.

“I don’t get why you’re downplaying this,” Kurt said softly, meeting Blaine’s eyes directly. “I can tell how upset you’ve been all night. Why are you trying to make it seem like he hasn’t done anything wrong?”

“Maybe he hasn’t?” Blaine said desperately, hating the hysterical edge to his own voice. “I can’t tell how much of this is him doing something wrong and how much of it is my stupid, broken brain!”

“Blaine,” Kurt said, with a kind of deathly calm that spoke of more anger than Blaine had ever heard from him. “If he’s telling you that your legal claim doesn’t matter, he’s definitely doing something wrong. Even if he wasn’t, Dalton is supposed to specialize in making their subs feel safe, and believe me they charge through the nose for it.” Blaine winced, aware that despite his father’s help, sending him to Dalton still cost Kurt.

“I’m sorry.”

Kurt sighed, fingers skidding along Blaine’s skin. “Don’t be sorry, Beautiful. You’ve done absolutely nothing wrong. I’m really upset right now, but not with you. The idea that someone, some kid, thinks he can come in and touch what’s mine is… really upsetting to me. But I’m trying to hold that in. And you don’t have a stupid, broken brain. You have an intelligent, deeply emotional brain and it’s one of the most fantastic things about you.”

A small smile curled across Blaine’s lips, and he leaned into Kurt. “He just makes my skin crawl,” Blaine said into Kurt’s neck. “His presence is so blatantly suggestive. It’s like rubbing velvet the wrong way. It just feels wrong.”

“If he keeps it up, I’ll talk to the school,” Kurt said decisively, almost threateningly. Then his voice softened, “But that’s for later. I want to help you relax now.”

Blaine bit his lip, reluctant. “I really don’t feel like sex, Kurt, I’m sorry, but-”

“No,” Kurt agreed quickly, “That would be a bad idea right now. I’m too keyed up, anyway. But I can still help.”

“Okay.” The idea of giving himself over to Kurt was too appealing to resist, tired of being in his own head. “Yeah, okay.”

“Go take a shower,” Kurt said, his voice quiet but full of purpose. That voice… Blaine had fallen in love with that voice. “I’ll be waiting in here when you’re done. Get dressed comfortably, something you don’t mind sleeping in, then come back out here.”

Following Kurt’s instructions was easy, a special kind of bliss that soothed the anxiety that had been sitting under Blaine’s skin all day. The shower felt amazing as well, like he was washing with more than soap and shampoo, clearing his head of the clamor inside it. He could hear Kurt moving around in their bedroom over the rush of the shower, but he didn’t think much of it. He was gone by the time Blaine got out of the shower anyway.

Comfortable clothes, Kurt had said. Blaine pulled on black sweats and a gray t-shirt, grabbing one of his Dalton hoodies for extra warmth. The sweatshirt hugged his form, snug without being constricting, oddly comforting. It was one of his favorites.

Kurt had cleared away the dishes by the time Blaine emerged from the bedroom, and he was settled back onto the couch, tv flipped to the newest trashy reality show. He glanced up at the sound of Blaine’s footsteps, and he smiled warmly, beckoning Blaine over. Kurt had taken the time to change as well, Blaine noticed as he approached, now dressed in black yoga pants and a dark gray long sleeve shirt with a hood.

He also had Blaine’s collar resting on his knee. Blaine’s eyes flicked from the collar to Kurt’s face, curious. “Don’t worry,” Kurt reassured with a small chuckle. “No sex. Trust me?”

“Of course.”

Kurt pulled Blaine to sit on the couch, and he let his head tip forward of it’s own accord, waiting for the collar. Just the feeling of it was usually enough to get him hard, but it was different tonight. The leather fit in snug on his throat, a more constant reminder of it’s presence than his cuff, just by virtue of the fact that he didn’t wear it all the time.

Instead of feeling erotic as it usually did, the collar felt deeply romantic, intimacy tied up in the way Kurt’s fingers rubbed around his skin, tucked under to check the fit. He’d spent all day on edge, like somehow he wasn’t as thoroughly Kurt’s as he should be, and now he was wearing Kurt’s name above his breastbone. Kurt put it there. He almost wanted to sob with the emotional pull of that thought.

“There you go,” Kurt said softly, “Lie down. Come on, head in my lap.”

Blaine went, Kurt’s hands pulling him until he was curled up on his side, cheek pillowed on Kurt’s thighs. One of his Dom’s hands rested on the vulnerable curve his neck, the other tangling into his damp curls, scratching lightly at his scalp. It felt so good, warm and safe like this in Kurt’s hands. He belonged here, to this amazing man who loved him so well.

“Good boy, there you go. So good, Beautiful. You can let go,” Kurt’s voice murmured above the background of the tv, and he let it lull him. In the end, it was so easy to give in to the pull that had been calling him since seeing Kurt. His eyes fell closed, and he let himself drift.

The smell of coffee woke him the next morning, coupled with the sounds of Kurt moving around in the kitchen. Groggily, Blaine glanced at the bedside clock, surprised to find that it wasn’t even six yet. Even on early days, Kurt almost never rose before six. Blaine didn’t have to leave for school until 7:30, and Kurt usually left at the same time.

Sleep still hanging heavily on him, Blaine sat up, glancing around the room. He had no memory of going to bed last night, only of going under on the couch. He could only assume he fell asleep and Kurt carried him to bed. The idea made affection flare in his chest, and he smiled softly. Grabbing a loose blanket off the bottom of the bed, Blaine wrapped it around his shoulders, padding out into the loft.

Kurt was in the kitchen, still dressed in same close as the night before, leaning back against the counter with a coffee cup in his hands and a pensive look on his face.

“Hey,” Blaine said softly, and Kurt started, glancing up.

“Hey, you.” Kurt’s tone was affectionate, the hard look in his eyes softening as he met Blaine’s gaze.

“You’re up early,” Blaine observed, walking in close to Kurt, hesitating only for a minute until Kurt set his mug aside and opened his arms. Blaine sank in against Kurt’s chest happily. “What’s up?”

“I was gonna bring you coffee in bed,” Kurt said softly into Blaine’s hair. “City roast, with just a dash of nutmeg and soy milk.”

Blaine hummed happily, breathing in the smell of coffee and sleep from Kurt’s chest. “Is it my birthday?”

Kurt laughed softly. “No. I wanted to talk to you, though, and that tends to go better with coffee in your system. I didn’t mean to wake you up yet, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Blaine assured, pressing a kiss to the warm skin at the base of Kurt’s neck. “Coffee, and then we’ll talk.”

Blaine sank down onto a stool at the island, wrapping the blanket tighter around his shoulder as Kurt moved around the kitchen, mixing coffee. They settled down next to each other, coffee in hand, and Blaine took a moment to appreciate the simplicity of it, this grown up moment. Early morning coffee with his Dom.

“I’m sorry about freaking out yesterday,” he said quietly, under his breath. “It was kind of ridiculously childish.”

“It wasn’t, though,” Kurt countered, and his set his coffee mug aside, turning to face Blaine. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Yesterday you were too upset, and I was feeling too possessive to think about much else than asserting my claim on you. And it bothers me that there’s someone disrespecting our claim, disrespecting you, but we’ll deal with that. I want to make sure that you understand that what you felt was completely normal.”

Blaine blinked in confusion, setting his own mug aside. “What do you mean?”

He watched Kurt take a deep breath, and he could tell Kurt was thinking through his choice of words carefully. “You said, yesterday, that you couldn’t tell if what you were feeling was due to your history or not. Probably some of it was, but not entirely. Any claimed sub would have reacted the same way. Our claims mean something to us, more than just sex. For Doms it means having a focal point for this deeply ingrained instinct to care and nurture and protect. I don’t know first hand what it means for a sub, but-”

“Safety,” Blaine interrupted, then blushed a little, looking down at the mug in his hands. “It means safety, and security, and a release of anxiety.”

“Exactly. Which is why temporary claims are different than legal ones. Temporary claims are just agreements, between people who need to act on the physical needs of their bodies but would rather do it with one person than at a house or a club. There’s no emotional investment or dependency. Even coming on to a sub in a temporary claim would be considered bad etiquette by most Doms, but actively pursuing a claimed sub? That’s unthinkable.”

“I know that,” Blaine agreed.

“So all of your instincts were telling you that what was happening was wrong. And yeah, you’ve had more experience with sleazy Dom’s than you should ever have had to, so you probably picked up on it faster than another sub might, but any claimed sub in your position would have reacted exactly the same way.” Kurt’s eyes were so earnest, such a brilliant, bright blue starburst of color, it made Blaine’s heart throb.

“I used to think,” Blaine began, voice soar in his throat “That there was something about me that was just couldn’t be loved. That all I was worth was my body, and the older I got, the less that would be worth.” Kurt winced and Blaine reached out, taking Kurt’s hand. “I know better now, I do. I know you love me, you love me so well, Kurt. But, it was just… all sex with him, Kurt. I could feel the way he wanted me. And it was like being in that house again.”

Kurt’s hand squeezed hard in his, and then released, like Kurt was forcing himself to relax. “I need you to promise me that if… Sebastian…  tries this again, you’ll tell me. Text me, call me at work, whatever. Just let me know, and I will be at Dalton so fast.”

“I will,” Blaine promised “I’m hoping he’ll just leave me alone.”

He didn’t. Sebastian seemed to be everywhere at Dalton, Blaine couldn’t even walk down the hallway without a suggestive, sly smile and a flirty wink. Blaine’s skin was crawling by the end of first period, but that was nothing, just looks, he couldn’t really complain that someone had looked at him wrong.

It wasn’t until the lunch bell rang, and Blaine was standing at his locker depositing his books that Sebastian actually approached him. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up before the thud of weight against the locker next to him, and the suggestive greeting of “Hey, Sexy.”

Blaine’s blood ran cold, a nasty shuddering ache under his skin. The way Sebastian said ‘Sexy’, so openly suggestive, he wanted to whine and curl away, protect himself until he could find Kurt. Kurt. Kurt’s voice calling him Beautiful, so perfect, so different in it’s meaning than ‘Sexy’. He shuddered, glanced sideways at Sebastian.

“Hello, Sebastian,” he said quietly, curling in on himself, trying to make himself as small as possible.

“So, did you think about my offer?” Sebastian asked, and Blaine could feel the way his eyes raked across his body.

“I told you, I’m claimed,” Blaine said uncomfortably, closing his locker door and cross his arms over his chest. “I have a Dom, Sebastian, and I’m not… I’m his.”

“Oh, come on, he doesn’t have to know…” Sebastian murmured, fingers reaching out to stroke down Blaine’s side.

Blaine flinched back hard, his shoulder colliding with the locker behind him painfully, but it was masked by the shutters of wrong coursing through him. Wrong, wrong, wrong, not my Dom, need my Dom. He backed away as quickly as he could, legs shaking but Sebastian was still advancing on him.

Long fingers curled around his wrist, almost painful over the cuff, and Blaine felt nauseous. “Please stop, please, please stop.”

“You beg so pretty, baby,” Sebastian whispered, and Blaine whimpered. Fear like he hadn’t felt since he his first days at the house pulsed through his skin. In that moment, he didn’t have the wherewithal to fight, paralyzed by his own body. Anything could happen, and he couldn’t stop it, couldn’t fight it.

“HEY!”

A voice jarred down through the fog of fear settling into his brain, and suddenly he had control of his limbs again. He yanked his wrist out of Sebastian’s hand, gone slack in surprise, and Blaine pulled back, scrabbling back towards the group of boys who had shouted, friends from the Warblers and Sub Club.

“He said no, he’s fucking claimed, you asshole!”

Blaine glanced over, thankful as Trent stepped forward, the glare on his face turning his usually harmless demeanor threatening. Blaine allowed himself to be surrounded by his friend, the gentle hands of other subs resting on his back, shoulders, support and solidarity.

Nick was closest to him, and Blaine turned him in desperation, aware that his body was beginning to shake. “Kurt, I need Kurt, I need to call Kurt. I need-”

“It’s okay, of course, yeah, you should call him.” Nick agreed soothingly, “Come on, we’ll take you to the Dean’s office and you can call him from there.”

They moved as a pack of subs, en-masse towards the administration building, Blaine secure in the middle. He didn’t know what was happening with Sebastian and Trent, only that the other Dom’s in the group didn’t come with them as they moved off.

“They won’t let him get away with this,” Kyle said darkly from close to Blaine’s elbow. “They’ll stand behind you. The Dom’s here have an honor code, values they believe all Dom’s should have. They won’t let him weasel out of this.”

Blaine knew that should make him feel better. Somewhere in the back of his mind it did, a warm feeling of camaraderie as his peers closed in around him, but it didn’t do much to stop the panic still settling into his chest. “I just want Kurt,” he said softly, the ache of tears audible in his voice.

Time passed in a weird away after that. He zoned out a bit, fingers twisted hard into his cuff as his friends explained what had happened. It wasn’t until he was being handed a phone that he came back to himself, quickly dialing Kurt’s work number.

“Kurt Hummel’s office.”

“H-hi, Mandy,” Blaine greeted Kurt’s assistant, stuttering over his words. “It’s Blaine. I really need to talk to Kurt. I know he turns his cell off in meetings, but I need…I need him.”

“Of course, just a second Blaine.”

“Thank you,” He replied quietly, leg bouncing with nervous energy as he waited.

“Blaine? What happened, are you okay?” Kurt sounded breathless, and Blaine’s eyes welled up just at the sound of his voice. “Did he do something?”

“I need you,” Blaine pleaded, and one of the fellow subs sitting by him squeezed his arm in encouragement. “I just… please Kurt, I know you’re working, but I kept saying stop and he wouldn’t listen then he grabbed my wrist and-”

“Blaine, I’m leaving now, I’ll be then in 40 minutes, tops, if I have to run there, I promise. Are you okay, are you safe right now?”

Blaine took a shaky breath, looking around at the six or so boys cluttered around him. “Yeah, I’m in the dean’s office, and I’ve got support.” He smiled weakly but sincerely, and his friends smiled back. “Just hurry, please.”

“I will, Beautiful, I promise, I love you so much.”

They were ushered into a side room after that, filled with uncomfortable chairs and a blocky table. To wait a member of the guidance staff explained, but Kyle shook his head darkly.

“They’re bringing him into the Dean’s office, I bet, and they don’t want you two to cross paths.”

“I’m fine with that,” Blaine said emphatically, the nervous jitter in his leg starting up again. “But what are the chances they’re actually going to do anything about this?”

“High,” Nick reassured, “and even if the administration doesn’t suspend him or kick him out, the Dom Organization will make his life hell until he transfers out again. I remember something like this happened my freshman year - the Dom was gone within a week.”

The group descended into soft chatter at that, and Blaine tuned them out. They stayed close, comforting by their physical presence in a way completely different than Kurt, but comforting nonetheless. Some of these boys felt more like his brothers than Cooper did, he thought dimly. The support and companionship of fellow subs wasn’t something he’d understood until coming to Dalton, but he was grateful for it now, so insanely grateful for all of them.

By the time Kurt arrived, the feeling of panic had faded from Blaine’s body, replaced instead by anxious, nervous energy. When the door to the room opened and Kurt stepped through, cheeks flush red and coat hanging open like he really had run there, it was like a damn burst inside Blaine chest. He was out of the chair before Kurt was even fully in the room, practically flinging himself into his Dom’s arms.

Oh god, he wanted to drown in Kurt. In all the ways Sebastian had felt so, so wrong Kurt felt perfectly, undeniably right. He smelled right, his body fit right against Blaine’s as he held him close, the soft murmur of sweet nothings against his temple sounded like love and home and Blaine just broke.

Dimly, he was aware of the others around them, their pointed conversation with each other to give Blaine and Kurt some form of false privacy. It didn’t matter, though, who else could see, who else existed in the world, not when Kurt’s was there and holding him so perfectly right.

Kurt didn’t speak, more than his soft, soothing words at least, until the sobs had worked themselves out of Blaine’s chest. He pulled back then, cradling Blaine’s face in his hands, thumbs swiping at the wetness under his eyes. “I need to go talk to the Dean, sweetheart. It looks like some of your friends have explained what they saw, but I need to know what happened from you before I go in there. Tell me.”

It was a command, and Blaine was grateful, not sure he’d be able to get it out otherwise. “He came on to me again. I asked him to stop, and he… he told me I was pretty when I begged.” Kurt’s face hardened, nostrils flaring, but his fingers swiped softly on Blaine’s cheeks and he drew strength from it. “He touched my side and I pulled away. He grabbed my wrist and I froze up, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t stop him, I’m so sorry Kurt.”

“Don’t apologize,” Kurt said vehemently, the anger flashing bright behind his eyes. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I know,” Blaine said softly, and just like that the pent up energy in his chest deflated. He sagged into Kurt, who caught him, rocking gently. “I know, it just feels like it.”

“I’m going to go talk to the Dean. If he’s very, very lucky, I won’t rip that kid’s balls off. Then I’m taking you home, okay?”

“It’s only one in the afternoon,” Blaine said lamely, and Kurt looked at him like he was losing his mind. Maybe he was. It wasn’t like he wanted to go back to classes, or even like he would be able to function if he did. “Yeah, okay, home. I’ll just… wait here, I guess.”

His friends huddled in back around him when Kurt left, and he let them distracted him. A quiet redhead named Mark admitted to being jealous of what Blaine had with Kurt, and that carried the conversation for a while, the claimed subs discussing their Doms, joking and poking fun at each other. In many ways it felt like an ordinary Sub Club meeting, except Blaine could hear the muffled sounds of Kurt shouting floating through the closed door. For some reason, it made him smile.

The same guidance office worker who had ushered them into the room earlier came for Blaine a short time later. Nervousness returned to him then, as he had leave the group behind now, which meant losing the security blanket they provided. (Nick and Kyle both hugged him, telling him firmly to call them as soon as he felt up to it, and it pulsed sharply inside his chest, the knowledge that he had friends like these.)

He needn’t have worried though, the Dean’s office was empty except for Kurt and Dean Brighton. He gravitated towards Kurt instinctively, and Kurt reached out for him, pulling Blaine into his side.

“Dean Brighton and I have agreed,” Kurt said in a measured voice, “That Sebastian be suspended pending a meeting with the school governors. Apparently his family has some connections that would make outright expulsion… complicated, for the school. However, given how many of your classmate’s have spoken out  on your behalf, and that I, too, could make things unpleasant for this school if I feel you’re not safe here, I don’t think it’s likely we’ll be seeing much of Mr. Smyth from here on out.”

There were a lot of politics cloaked in that statement, but thinking about them too much made Blaine’s head hurt. Kurt would fight for him, though, and so would his friends here, Doms and subs alike, in their own ways.

“For now,” Kurt continued, “I’m going to take you home, and you have excused absences from your classes for the next couple days, if you so choose. You’re welcome to stay home for a couple days if you don’t feel safe here.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, unsure. Dalton had always felt safe, and he thought it probably would again if Sebastian wasn’t there. But he thought he might need the time to collect himself, to feel safe in his own head again.

“On behalf of all of the faculty here, I apologize for this,” Dean Brighton said, and Kurt nodded coolly.

“I sincerely hope you will be able to take measure to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

Kurt walked with him to his locker to collect his things, fingers twisted tightly through Blaine’s. Classes were still in session, so the hallways were empty, their footsteps echoing as they walked.

“We’re taking a cab, okay?” Kurt said as they walked through the main doors. “I can’t deal with the subway right now, and you look dead on your feet.”

“Okay,” Blaine agreed easily. He didn’t have it in him to make decisions right now, he just wanted to be close to Kurt and to be away from here.

The traffic was light, mid-day on a weekday, so the ride to the loft was fairly short. Kurt’s hand stayed linked in his the whole ride, letting go only to pay the driver when they arrived at their building.

As much as he’d been aching to be home for hours, once Blaine was inside the loft he suddenly felt at a loss. He didn’t know what to do, it was too early for dinner, he was too distracted for homework or reading. He stood helplessly in the middle of the room, overwhelmed and exhausted and wired at the same time.

Then Kurt’s arms were slipping around his waist from behind, fingers undoing the buttons on his winter coat and pulling back sliding it off his shoulders. Instinctively he swayed back into Kurt’s warm body behind him, and Kurt caught him, arm slipping around his waist.

“Go shower,” Kurt said firmly into his ear. “Same as last night, wash off and put on some comfortable clothes. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Easy commands, easy to get lost in. Blaine went through the motions, stripping and soaping up and rinsing off in a daze, not quite under but not present in his brain. When he got out of the shower there were a pair of soft cotton pants and one of Kurt’s sweaters folded neatly on the edge of the sink, so Blaine toweled off quickly and slipped into them.

Kurt was sitting on the bed when he emerged, scrolling through something on his phone, two cups of coffee sitting on the bedside tables. The smell of it floated over to him, mingling with the steamy smell of shampoo and bodywash emanating from the bathroom. All smells he associated with home, with Kurt.

“Hello, Beautiful.”

It still made him smile, every time Kurt said it, a reminder of where they came from and how far they’d come together. “Hi.”

“I really need to hold you right now,” Kurt admitted, looking a little embarrassed, like he should be able to control his impulses, like there was any way Blaine didn’t need exactly the same thing. “I thought, coffee and cuddling. Maybe later we can watch a movie on a laptop or something, but for now I need to hold you.”

“Yes, please,” Blaine said shyly, coming when Kurt beckoned him over, letting himself be pulled in, tipped back until they were reclined against a stack of pillows, pressed in close together. Kurt hadn’t even taken the time to change, and the material of his work shirt was cool under Blaine’s cheek, but warming quickly from their body heat. “You’re going to wrinkle your clothes,” he said absently.

Kurt laughed, a wet, desperate sound. “I don’t even care right now. Blaine.”

Then they were twisting together, clutching and both of them crying. Kurt was rocking him, hand soothing up and down his spine, shushing him gently even as he cried himself.

“It felt so wrong, the way touched me,” Blaine whimpered, burrowing into Kurt’s neck. “Nothing like you, god, Kurt. You’re everything, you’re everything for me.”

“Me too,” Kurt reassured. “Blaine, you’re perfect and so mine, and I will never, ever let this happen again. I shouldn’t have let it happen this time. Never again.”

They held on to each other so long that their coffee was almost cold by the time they got to it, but Blaine didn’t care. The taste was familiar, comforting, part of the sensory experience of being home. He kissed the taste of Kurt’s coffee off his lips, soft gentle kisses with no heat, only raw emotion, twisted and beautiful and real.

Later that evening, once the coffee was long gone and the sun was going, they laid out together. Blaine was on his stomach, head pillowed on his arms and turned towards Kurt, who was on his side, running a hand up and down Blaine’s spine in a long, slow arc. Kurt was looking at him, studying him, Blaine could feel it, could see the gears turning in Kurt’s head. He let it go though, happy to wait it out as Kurt processed whatever he was mulling over.

“You’ve grown up so much,” Kurt said softly, a kind of awe in his voice when he finally spoke. “You really have, Blaine, it’s amazing. The boy I met, less than a year ago even, wouldn’t have been able to go through what you did today and bounce back from it. It would have shattered him. And that’s amazing. You’re turning into this wonderful young man right before my eyes.”

Heat flooded Blaine’s cheeks, please and embarrassed in equal measure. “Doesn’t feel like it sometimes,” he admitted.

“You are,” Kurt reassured. “You’re growing up beautifully, and I’m so proud of you.”

He wanted to pretend the tears that sprang to his eyes were just left over from the emotional upheaval of the day, but in reality, having Kurt’s pride meant the world to him. “I’m glad. I want you to be,” he whispered, a quaver in his voice, and Kurt just pulled him close, muttering soft nothings in his ear.

He sank into it, the softness of the bed, the warmth of Kurt’s body heat, the smell of coffee still lingering on the air. Nothing mattered besides this, not Sebastian, not the politics of Dalton. All that mattered was that Blaine felt utterly safe, and nothing could take this away from him.

—

Anniversaries

Spring was coming to New York.

The last of the lingering chill was disappearing, Kurt could feel it. The snow was gone, and soon the sweaters and scarves would be too. At work that meant gearing up for the launch of a spring line, and that had him busy, but then, he was always busy. They’d managed the spring launch last year without him, so there was no reason he shouldn’t be able to take enough time to see Blaine.

Only, Blaine was busy too. The Warblers were gearing up for their regional competition the last week in May, and as a graduating senior, Blaine had been given a competition solo. He was oscillating back and forth between excitement and panic, pride at being given the opportunity and surety that there was no way he could carry it out. Kurt knew he’d do wonderfully, but he also knew that nerves were a part of performing and if Blaine wanted to spend his life doing this he’d have to get used to being nervous.

Blaine was a wreck the day of the competition, shaky and drawn pale sitting on the edge of their bed like he might pass out if he tried to stand. Kurt only had to look at him once and he was calling out from work, despite Blaine’s protests.

He sank onto his knees in front of where Blaine was sitting on the bed, cradling his sub’s hands in his own, and caught Blaine’s  gaze with his own. “Why are you so scared, Beautiful? You love performing, you sing all the time.”

Biting his lip, Blaine shrugged awkwardly, eyes darting away from Kurt’s as his leg started to jitter. Releasing Blaine’s hands, Kurt pressed his palm down on Blaine’s thigh, stopping the nervous motion. He waited it out, waited as Blaine fought it out inside himself. Eventually he whispered, “This is my last chance with them. If I screw up, I’ll never get to prove I can do better.”

“You’re going to be amazing,” Kurt promised. “And even if you screw up, it doesn’t matter. They’ll still be your friends, and I’ll still love you, and be so proud of you.”

Bright eyes spilled over, and Kurt pulled Blaine into his chest, holding him until the tremors stopped. Then he made Blaine coffee (Starbucks dark roast, ground at home, with Almond milk and a dusting of cinnamon), and kissed him long, slow and promising. Sending Blaine out the door while he was shaky and scared looking was one of the hardest things Kurt ever had to do, but there wasn’t anything he could do to make this better, besides show up to support Blaine at the competition.

Which, of course, he did. Kurt filed into the auditorium at Dalton Academy along with the friends and family of three different show choirs. It made him slightly nostalgic. He remembered being on the other side of the curtain. He could remember the rush of performing, the bond between teammates that made high school bearable for him.

There was nothing like watching Blaine perform, though. He had a power, a stage presence, that grabbed your attention and held it. If it weren’t for the claim marker secured around his wrist (proud and easily visible from the audience, which gave Kurt a possessive thrill), you would never have guessed he was a sub. He had the strength to carrying the lead, the presence to hold attention, even with the other warblers dancing behind him.

Kurt felt so proud, standing and applauding after Blaine solo, it left him choking, breathless. Blaine had been perfect, every note clear and confident, every step charismatic and engaging. He could hear the mutters in the crowd, though, of why is a sub singing lead?

It made him bristle, want to spit fire at the people who wanted to tear Blaine down just because of a band on his wrist, because of the urges that sang in his blood. It was no one’s business but Kurt’s that Blaine submitted. Times were supposed to be changing. Places like Dalton existed, where subs weren’t held back because of their natures. Even most of the performing arts schools New York were making public vows of non-discrimination against sub in acceptance and casting.

Still, he knew the labels that were usually given to strong-willed subs, problem subs and break cases. That one in particular he loathed, the idea that a strong-willed sub needed to be broken. Well, Blaine had been broken. But he was healing. He was incredible - strong enough to get on stage and command an audience, beautifully submissive enough to curl up at Kurt’s feet in nothing but a collar like there was no where on earth he’d rather be. Blaine had been perfect, but Kurt couldn’t help but worry that the small-mindedness of society might cost the Warblers the competition.

Of course, there was no way of knowing for sure what made the Warblers lose, but lose they did. Kurt felt irrationally angry, but he knew he had to school that out of himself before he went to find Blaine. His sub would be taking this hard, beating himself up for a screw up he hadn’t made.

However, when he did find Blaine, backstage in a green-room, he was surrounded by the other boys, the friends he’d made, and he was smiling, laughing with them. There was an air of forced cheeriness in the room, but the undertone of it was genuine, the affection of boys who’d closed around Blaine like family. Nick and Kyle, the two Kurt knew best, seemed glued to Blaine’s side, pushing him around playfully as they pulled off their competition uniforms.

It was another, stranger jolt of pride, seeing Blaine interact with his friends. He remembered visiting the New Directions, oh god, almost a year ago. That was before he really even knew Blaine, the day after they met. Still, he remember how much it had bothered him, the way no one seemed to see Blaine. Well, people saw him now.

A year. It hit Kurt like a truck, the realization: their anniversary was coming up. From the door to the green room, Kurt watched Kyle throw a stack of ties at Blaine, smiling absently as he got lost in his thoughts. They hadn’t talked about which anniversary they wanted to celebrate, their meeting or their claim day. Probably both, he thought absently, at least the first year. Traditionally only the claim day was celebrated, but they weren’t really a traditional case. His life had changed the day he found his beautiful boy on his knees in the subhouse, and he couldn’t help but want to celebrate that.

He put the thought aside when Blaine glanced up and caught his eye, the smile that spread across Blaine’s face reflecting on his own. Blaine came to him, the magnetic pull between them as strong as ever, and he wrapped his sub up in his arms, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“You were breathtaking,” Kurt whispered, squeezing Blaine tight, and he could feel Blaine’s smile press into his neck. Blaine’s arms wound around his waist, resting there, and Kurt settled into the hug.

“Thank you for coming,” Blaine responded, and Kurt pulled back, cupping his hands on both sides of Blaine’s neck.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He couldn’t banish the thought of their anniversary, though. It remained in the back of his mind as they headed home, a plan slowly forming without him really thinking about it. They’d opted for a train ride since Blaine had too much excess energy to sit in a confined cab, and it was early enough in the day that the trains weren’t too crowded. Kurt listened to Blaine chatter about the performance, discussed the other teams. He watched Blaine spin around a subway pole humming quietly to himself, dapper as ever in his cuffed pants and light jacket. He smiled a little when he caught Kurt watching him, swaying to bump playfully against Kurt’s side.

Blaine seemed to be taking the loss pretty well, still humming softly to himself, and Kurt laced their fingers together as they walked from the subway stop to their building. Blaine was still swaying around him playful, pulling on Kurt’s hand teasingly and he let himself be pulled into the loft, spinning Blaine out away from him, then back in. Blaine giggled, spinning easily into Kurt’s arms, a smile settling into his eyes.

“You’re cheery,” Kurt observed, winding his arms around Blaine’s shoulders.

“Yeah, I guess.” Blaine shrugged, swaying a little in Kurt’s arms. “I love performing. I can’t wait for next year, to do this for real. I’m sad we lost, of course I am. But I’ll have so many other performances.”

“You will,” Kurt agreed, leaning down to kiss Blaine’s nose. It scrunched up adorably, and Kurt leaned in further for a proper kiss. Blaine’s mouth was warm and inviting, soft and open for him. Mine flared low in Kurt’s body, and he sucked hotly at Blaine’s lips. Mine for a almost year so far.

“I want to go down on you,” Kurt whispered into Blaine’s mouth, smiling a little when a small whimper escaped Blaine’s lips.

“Please,” Blaine whispered, and Kurt bit at his sub’s lips, relishing the way they yielded to him.

“Please, what?”

“Please Sir, I want…” Blaine trailed off and Kurt smirked. This was going to be fun.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” Kurt asked, trailing his nose back to Blaine’s ear, smelling the sweet scent of his skin and the sharp bite of hair gel.

“Yes, Sir.”

Kurt dropped to his knees, raising his eyebrows up at Blaine’s startled expression. A corner of his lips quirked and he raised his chin defiantly. He’d learned a long time ago that there was a difference between kneeling down and being on his knees.

“Undo your pants,” he ordered, settling down onto his heels to watch as Blaine fumbled with his belt. Blaine looked so pretty, the course hair on his abdomen leading down to his beautiful cock, only just beginning to flush with blood.

Reaching out, Kurt curled his hand around his sub’s half hard cock, and Blaine’s hips jolted a little, fucking forward into Kurt’s hand. Raising an eyebrow up at Blaine, he pulled, dragging Blaine forward by his dick. “Don’t move. Don’t touch,” He ordered, and waited until Blaine nodded to lean forward and close his lips around the head of Blaine’s cock.

The skin was silky smooth, blood warm in his mouth, and he hummed happily when Blaine’s hips remained completely still. Tension flooded through Blaine’s body, and Kurt revealed in it, in the way Blaine held back for him. Dropping his jaw, Kurt let himself sink down, feeling Blaine harden against his tongue. There was nothing quite like that feeling.

Blaine held himself together impressively well. Kurt could see his hands when he pulled back to swallow, curled into tight fists at his side to keep from touching. But Kurt could read his body, he could tell as Blaine started to slip under. The tension in his muscle changed, becoming less a matter of fighting the urge to thrust and more one of simply holding himself still.

Eventually though, Kurt hit a sweet spot, a slow drag of his tongue up a prominent vein, and Blaine’s hips snapped forward. Kurt took it easily, long past the point of gagging on an unexpected thrust, but he pulled of anyway, glaring up at Blaine.

“What did I say?” He asked, a hard edge to his voice, and he could see the way Blaine shivered at it.

“Don’t- don’t move,” Blane parroted back, and Kurt hummed. He reached out, pinching the sensitive skin of Blaine’s inner thigh hard enough that Blaine gasped.

“That’s right. Don’t move,” Kurt repeated, then sank his mouth back down over Blaine’s cock, heard his sub moan beautifully. He sucked hard, sinking down quickly, and he could feel the tremors in Blaine’s thighs, but his hips stayed still.

He pulled off long enough to purr “Good boy,” up at Blaine, working Blaine’s cock with his hand. He changed tactics, tilting his head to lick up the side of Blaine’s cock, tracing every vein with his tongue. Blaine was whining now, almost constantly, holding himself back, but he must be so close. Kurt shivered. He had a sudden flash, a desire to have Blaine so desperate he could barely think. Now wasn’t the time though, and he stored the thought away with the rest of the plan forming in his brain.

“You’re being so good for me,” Kurt praised, pumping Blaine with his hand. “You can come when you need to, Beautiful.”

With that he slid Blaine back into his mouth, cheeks hollowing as he sucked hard. Blaine cried out high and helpless, the tension in his body coiling tight until it broke. The bitter saltiness of Blaine’s come flooded Kurt’s mouth, and he swallowed as much as he could, pulling off and pumping Blaine through the aftershocks.

Blaine swayed on his feet and Kurt knelt up quickly, knees popping a little as he grabbed onto Blaine’s waist to steady him. “You can move,” he said quickly, and caught Blaine as his knees gave out, crumpling down against Kurt with his pants still around his knees.

“What can I do, Sir?” Blaine asked, groping in the direction of Kurt’s cock.

Kurt laughed, catching his hand, leaning forward to kiss his boy softly, taste the wicked sweetness of Blaine’s tongue. “We can get to me later, if you want. But this was for you.”

He held Blaine close, running his hand over the cloth still stretching across Blaine’s shoulder. Smiling privately to himself, he thought it was such a teenage thing to do, blowjobs just inside the front door, barely even managing to get clothes out of the way.

It always took Blaine a bit longer to come back to himself when Kurt didn’t get off, with less of a clear signal for the end of play. Kurt held him, spoke praise and love to him, until he started to stir more consciously. He started to pull back, and Kurt loosened his arms enough so Blaine could look up at him. “Congratulatory blowjobs?”

“Clearly I didn’t do a good enough job if you can still come up with congratulatory,” Kurt said in amusement, and Blaine flapped his hand dismissively, head falling back against Kurt’s shoulder. “No you don’t. You’re not falling asleep on me while we’re on the floor. I’m too old for that.”

“Yeah, yeah fine. Old man,” Blaine grumbled playfully, standing up and yelping when Kurt swatted at his bare ass.

“Young enough to keep up with you.”

Blaine’s laughter pulled Kurt after him, and Kurt rolled his eyes affectionately as Blaine cheerily hiked up his pants long enough lead his Dom into their bedroom, then promptly stripped. The clothes he’d changed into after the competition were thrown into a hamper, and he flopped down shamelessly on the bed, naked save for his briefs.

Kurt sighed, crawling up the bed to lay next to Blaine, who turned over and curled into him. Kurt let happiness wash over him, pulling Blaine in close, chest to chest, running his hand across the bare skin of Blaine’s back. “I should start dinner soon,” he mused.

“I’ll help,” Blaine promised, blinking sweetly, and Kurt smiled, stealing a kiss.

Silence fell between them, and Blaine’s eyes started to slided shut. As much as Kurt wanted to let him sleep, though, he had something he wanted to talk about. He leaned in until he could nuzzle his nose against Blaine’s, smiling when Blaine blinked his eyes open.

“Our anniversary is coming up,” Kurt said softly, watching as Blaine thought about it.

“The day we met?” Blaine asked, and Kurt nodded. “It’s in about a week, right?”

“Yeah,” Kurt confirmed, stroking Blaine’s bare skin with his thumb. “We’ll do something big for our claim day anniversary, go out for a fancy dinner and a show, if you’d like. But I want to do something just for us. For this anniversary.”

“Something sexy for us?” Blaine asked, smirking a little, and Kurt rolled his eyes good naturedly.

“Yes. But I wanted to run something by you.”

Blaine tilted his head curiously. “Okay. Try me.”

Kurt took a minute to figure out how to phrase the desire running through his head. “We’ve got a week. I’d like if you didn’t get off between now and then.”

Blaine’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You want to stop having sex for a week.”

“Not exactly,” Kurt said with a chuckle. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t be getting off.”

“Oh,” Blaine said softly, and Kurt watched comprehension dawn on his face.

“What do you think?”

Blaine shivered a little, and Kurt grinned. Blaine rolled his eyes, a sassy little smile that made Kurt’s heart throb with love. “You want me desperate,” Blaine stated, not even a question, and Kurt nodded. “It could be hot.”

“It will be,” Kurt promised. “But it’s more than wanting desperation. Knowing that you haven’t gotten off for that long, and that when you do, it will because I choose to let you… It’d be an incredible power rush.”

“Yeah,” Blaine said softly, eyes glazing over a little, then focusing back in on Kurt. “I don’t think I’ve gone that long without getting off since before my first Sickness.”

“Will you try for me?” Kurt asked, finally willing to admit how much he wanted this.

“For us,” Blaine corrected, tilting his face up for a kiss that Kurt happily gave. “What if I slip up? If we’re going to keep having sex, it’s possible. What’s my punishment?”

Kurt though for a minute, running through possibilities in his head. “The chastity period starts again and extends another day, if you come.”

“We’d miss our anniversary,” Blaine pointed out, and Kurt nodded.

“You’d better not slip up then.”

Of course, Kurt had no intention of making it easy for him. Not that he set out to be cruel. No, their intimate moments usually evolved organically, and he did nothing to head them off. There was something intensely erotic about bring Blaine to the edge, then being able to push him back, make him tuck it away and wait for later.

It was a whole new learning experience, as well. After a year, Kurt would have said he knew all the ins and outs of Blaine’s body, but this was something new. It was a chance to learn the little trembles in Blaine’s abs when he tried so hard to hold back without pulling away, to learn the way his soft cries would turn into pleas to stop, to let him breathe.

Kurt did, of course. This was new ground for them. The most orgasm denial they’d ever done was within one scene, they’d never stretched it out this long. Kurt wasn’t going to push Blaine to the point of safe-wording or failing. The time might come to push boundaries, to see just how much Blaine could take, but this wasn’t that time.

Bringing Blaine out of himself without getting off was a new challenge too, but also a new level of intimacy. By the fourth day, Blaine’s entire body trembled as soon as Kurt touched him. By the fifth, he went so far under to keep from coming it took Kurt over half an hour to coax him out again. The sixth day was a respite, both of them too busy to do much more than eat a hasty dinner and pass out together.

The seventh day, though, the day before their anniversary, Kurt couldn’t help but push a little. He wanted to see, to know how desperate Blaine was, how hard he was trying for Kurt. With the late afternoon sunlight spilling across their bed, Kurt stripped Blaine down, and spread him out. He was absolutely gorgeous in the light, golden skin enriched and dark hair heightened. Everything was beautiful contrast and open trust, Kurt loved him so and whispered it into his skin.

He took Blaine in hand and stroked him hard then let him go, moving instead to explore the rest of Blaine’s body, kissing and nuzzling his favorite patches of skin, teeth sinking in lightly when he felt the urge, tongue dragging here and there.

It was slow, drawn out and sensual, and he could literally watch Blaine fall apart. He could see the tremors start, the tension radiating out through his body. He watched Blaine wind up like a spring, and pushed a little here and there, until he was sure they’d hit the edge, sure he couldn’t push anymore without pushing Blaine over.

Gently he coaxed Blaine onto his side, letting his sub curl in defensively around his throbbing, aching cock. He wrapped himself around Blaine’s back, arm snug across his chest. Kurt was hard, a dull pulse of need in his groin, but he tamped it down. He could jerk off later. Now he held Blaine close and praised him, reminded him what a good boy he was, how proud he made Kurt. With gently lips he kissed off the tear tracks on Blaine’s cheek, and held him close.

Kurt woke the next morning to an empty bed and swearing coming from the kitchen of the loft. Curious, the followed the sounds of Blaine muttering to himself, finding the younger man in the kitchen, scraping a pan into the sink.

“What are you up to?” Kurt asked, amused, and Blaine looked up at him guilty.

Blaine was still dressed in his pajamas, curls tumbling messily across his head, cheeks flushed in what Kurt guessed was frustration. “Burning eggs, apparently,” Blaine said bitterly. “I can bake well enough, why can’t I manage anything else?”

Kurt laughed, wandering over to inspect the mess of burned egg in the sink. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Stick to cookies and cakes, sweetie,” he advised, and Blaine pouted at him. He looked so cute like this, full lower lip pushed forward and curls a tumbling mess. Kurt leaned in to snag a kiss, sucking Blaine’s lip between his own happily.

It didn’t last long, though. Blaine pulled back quicker than normal, reaching up to place a hand on Kurt’s chest. “Kurt, please, can we not? I really want to be able to do this, be good for you, but I swear I feel like if you look at me too long I’m going to come. I’m just…” He trailed off desperately.

“Of course,” Kurt soothed, rubbing his hands along the outsides of Blaine’s arms. “You’ve done incredibly well for a first time. You made it a week, that’s really impressive.”

“You went easy on me,” Blaine pointed out, a self-deprecating eye roll accompanying the statement. “You could have pushed a lot more than you did.”

Kurt shrugged. “That wasn’t the point. I didn’t ask for this to see how much I could get you to take. I’m not ruling that out for the future,” he teased, tugging a little on Blaine’s arm, and Blaine smiled easily. “But not this time. This was really just about the build up.”

“I’m built up,” Blaine reassured, and the thought still made Kurt tingle. “Sorry about breakfast, though.”

“It’s fine,” Kurt assured him, “We can go out and get brunch.”

“Okay,” Blaine agreed easily. “I’ll finish washing up here, and go get changed.”

“I got it.” Kurt waved him away, shrugging off the protest with a reminder that Kurt had been washing dishes for 20 years before he met Blaine, and he could handle it now. Blaine was almost to the bedroom when Kurt turned away from the sink, calling over. “Oh, and Blaine?”

“Yeah?”

“Happy anniversary, Beautiful.”

A soft smile spread across Blaine’s face, and he leaned against the door frame, looking at Kurt with bright, honey eyes. “Happy anniversary.”

Brunch was a simple affair at a local dinner, easy and relaxed and happy. Blaine got pancakes and Kurt got eggs, and they spent the meal pretending not to notice when they stole bites from each other’s plates. Blaine seemed happy, settled in himself, and it sat well with Kurt. He never felt as calm as he did when Blaine was happy and centered, he was coming to realize.

It was a nice day out, and they opted to take a walk after leaving the diner. They didn’t have time for a trip to the Park, Kurt was far too impatient for that, but they strolled around their neighborhood, fingers twinned, each lost in his own thoughts. Kurt, for his part, was stuck in a recollection of the year, everything they’d learned from each other, and how much they’d give of themselves in such a short time.

A sense of tension which had been absent all morning settled into Kurt as he opened the door back to their loft. He had a plan, a certain way he wanted this to go, but at the same time, he needed this to be good for Blaine. It was as much Blaine’s anniversary as his.

Blaine, for his part, seemed subdued, looking at Kurt from under his lashes ever couple of seconds. Smiling knowingly, Kurt reached out, slipping his fingers under Blaine’s cuff to pull him close. Blaine came towards him, head tipped down. Ready to give Kurt noted, pleased. Not yet though.

Tenderly, Kurt reached out, hooking his fingers under Blaine’s chin, tilting it up. “I needed you to stay with me in the beginning, okay, Beautiful? I have some things to run by you.”

“Okay,” Blaine said easily, and affection pulsed sharply in Kurt’s chest. So trusting, such a perfect sub.

Kurt lead Blaine into the bedroom by his wrist, fingers hooked under Blaine’s cuff, skin warm against the backs of his fingers. “Sit on the bed, Beautiful,” Kurt instructed.

Blaine did as he was told, and Kurt smiled warmly at him, before turning away. The items he’d got for today were tucked into a bag in his closet and, he pulled them out now, black silk slipping over his fingers, contrasted with the silicon of the second item.

He could see the recognition in Blaine’s eyes as the fell on the items. “You got a blindfold?” Blaine asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Call it nostalgia,” Kurt said with a smirk, running the black silk through his fingers. It snagged on the other item in his hand, and he held it up to Blaine. “Do you know what this is?”

Blaine hesitated for a minute, taking in the black silicon ring. “Cock ring?” He guessed.

Kurt nodded. “I know you’re really, really wound up. The point of this wasn’t proving to me that you can hold off, it was me having control of when you get to come. I want you to be able to last through what I’ve got planned, and I’m perfectly happy to put this on you. But if you don’t feel comfortable with it, we can go without, only you have to hold off for me.”

Blaine was quiet for a minute, considering. “I think I’ll take the ring,” he said sheepishly.

“Okay. It’s okay. That’s fine, it’s no failing on your part,” Kurt reassured, leaning forward to kiss Blaine’s forehead. After a moment of thought, he handed the cockring over to Blaine, watching his sub turn it over in his hand. “Okay?” He asked softly.

“Okay.” Blaine agreed, and Kurt nodded once. He stepped away, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

“Get undressed and kneel down,” Kurt instructed.

Blaine was always beautiful when he stripped, but Kurt didn’t let himself watch, instead focusing on getting naked himself. By the time he turned his attention back to Blaine, the sub was on his knees, looking up at Kurt with big, trusting eyes.

Picking up the cock ring, Kurt settled down in front of Blaine, taking his beautiful cock in hand. He worked as deftly as he could, getting the silicon settled around Blaine’s balls, keeping them from drawing up. It didn’t take Blaine long at all to get hard after that, so wound up from a week of edging and being pulled back. Soon Blaine was fully hard, fucking into Kurt’s hand with small, helpless thrusts.

“Okay?” He asked, and Blaine nodded wordlessly. “Answer me.”

“Yes, Sir. Feels weird.”

Instead of responding, Kurt kissed Blaine’s temple swiftly, and stood, taking the blindfold with him. “Look up at me,” he instructed, and Blaine did, beautiful hazel eyes already starting to cloud. They fluttered shut as Kurt reached forward, stroking over Blaine’s brow, down over the soft skin on Blaine’s lids. Carefully, Kurt lifted the black silk of the blindfold until he could wind it around Blaine’s head, tying it off carefully so none of it snagged in Blaine’s hair.

It was a sharp shock of memory, stepping back and seeing Blaine like this. So similar to how he had been when they met, and yet very different. Blaine had grown, physically, over the last year, filled out some in his shoulders, and gained some definition in his arms and chest. His body had the healthy baring of a sub who had his needs met regularly, the glow that spoke of a correct hormone balance.

It was more than that, though. Blaine held himself differently, submitted differently, now. The first time Kurt had seen Blaine like this, he’d been stiff, unnatural, present in his body despite the illusion of submission. That wasn’t the case now, Blaine was under for him, flushed hard with a ring around his cock and a blindfold around his eyes, arms loose at his side. Perfect.

“You’re going to fuck me,” Kurt said softly, smiling a little at the curious title of Blaine’s head. “I’m going to stretch myself open, and lay down, and you’re going to fuck me exactly how I tell you, for as long as I need, until I get off exactly how I want. Then, maybe, I’ll let you come.”

Just saying the words out loud made Kurt’s blood pulse, giving voice to the plan he’d been mulling over for a week now. Like this, with Blaine under and desperate from denial, literally blind and in his hands, Kurt had never felt more powerful. The idea of taking that power and using it to take control of something that was considered submissive by most of small minded society was so fucking hot.

If Blaine’s reaction was anything to go by, it was working for him too. Small shivers coursed through his body, and he muttered a small “Yes, Sir.”

Fingering himself open was a fairly mechanical processes. Now wasn’t the time to draw it out and enjoy it, not with Blaine kneeling so pretty for him, waiting. Kurt got comfortable on the bed, fingers slick, watching Blaine as he powered through the stretch. His head was bowed again in perfect submission, beautiful and so Kurt’s.

“Come up here, Beautiful,” Kurt gasped hoarsely, on the second finger, watching the flex of Blaine’s muscles as he stood, turning towards Kurt’s voice. Blaine crawled up the bed towards him, settling again onto his knees, hands loose at his side, not touching without permission. “Good boy,” Kurt whispered, just to see Blaine shiver.

Three fingers was a stretch for Kurt. He didn’t bottom often, had only ridden Blaine a handful of times in their year together. It felt so intense, awakening an emptiness inside him that he somehow managed to forget about most of the time. One hard twist of his fingers had his spine unlocking, pleasure radiating out through his groin.

A small whimper escaped Blaine’s lips, followed by a hushed. “Please, Sir. Please.”

“What?” Kurt gasped, working his fingers inside himself, arching into the pleasure he always forgot his body could supply. “What are you asking for, Beautiful?”

“Please let me. I want to help. Please tell me to make you feel good. I need to make you feel good.” Blaine was shifting around on the bed, squirming a little like he couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop. A week without coming, and now with his cock trapped full and achy by the silicon, god he must be so desperate. Just the thought send a pulse of pleasure through Kurt, and he cried out softly.

Shivers raced up Kurt’s spine, chased by Blaine’s pleas. “You think I should let you fuck me?” He asked teasingly, smiling when Blaine nodded vigorously. “You think you’ve earned it?”

“Please, Sir. Please let me make you feel good.”

Suddenly teasing lost it’s appeal. Kurt had Blaine right there, ready and able to fuck him, and Kurt knew his fingers would pale in comparison as soon as he had the fullness of Blaine’s cock inside him.

His fingers pulled out with a squelching noise purely pornographic in nature, and Blaine groaned. Kurt could see his fingers flexing against his thighs, tense, but not touching. Such a good boy. “Come here,” Kurt instructed, reaching out for Blaine, heedless of the lube on his hands. Blaine scrambled towards him, and Kurt caught him, hands locking around Blaine’s hips and guiding.

“Slowly,” Kurt instructed, reaching down to get a hold of Blaine’s cock, blood-warm in his hand. Blaine cried out at the contact, helpless, but Kurt  shushed him, shifting his own hips until Blaine was positioned right. “You can push in now. But go slow and stop once you’re in all the way.”

The first thrust of Blaine’s hips sent sparks shooting up Kurt’s spine, the not-pain edge of being stretched quickly giving away to the intensity of the fullness. Blaine did exactly as he was told, pushing in to the hilt and stopping, leaving Kurt full and aching. He could feel the tremble of Blaine’s muscles, the force he was exerting to hold himself back.

“Good boy,” Kurt praised, breathless. “Move now. Go slow.”

Again, Blaine did exactly as he was told, slowly drawing out and pushing back in, precise controlled movement that spoke of intense focus. Kurt let it roll through him, pushing pleasure out through his whole body. It felt so good, having Blaine like this, the pure physicality of a kind of pleasure he didn’t experience often.

“Speed up,” he panted, and Blaine groaned in response, his hips snapping forward in a faster rhythm. Kurt shifted a little so he could reach up and wrap his hands through Blaine’s curls, and the shift caused Blaine’s angle to change.

“Oh fuck,” Kurt swore, fingers tighten in Blaine’s hair. “Right there. Fuck me right there. Harder.”

Blaine was whining now, hips snapping in hard, every couple thrusts brushing directly against Kurt’s prostate. It was overwhelming, how good it felt like this. Without thinking, Kurt’s hands shifted to Blaine’s hips, moving himself and Blaine’s thrusting hips exactly where he needed them. “Fuck me,” He panted, fingers tightening against Blaine’s skin, probably hard enough to bruise.

Only at the last second, when Kurt really couldn’t take it anymore, did he remove one hand from Blaine’s hips, reaching out to tug at his own cock quickly. Orgasm exploded through his body, all of his muscles locking up around the cock still moving in him.

Only once the rush and the tingles had faded did Kurt become aware of the fact that Blaine’s moans had turned to sobs. Blaine was literally shaking in his arms, brows drawn tight together as tears slide down his cheeks from behind the damp blindfold, hips working in tiny desperate circles.

“Please, Sir, I need to come, please, let me come, I need to, please.” A steady stream of words was tumbling out of Blaine’s mouth, and Kurt leaned up, kissing him quiet.

“Pull out, Beautiful,” Kurt instructed, and Blaine whined again through the sobs, hips fucking forward into him. Wincing at the oversensitivity, Kurt grabbed Blaine’s hips, pushing him back. “I need to get the ring off,” he reminded Blaine patiently, coaxing his sub over onto his back.

With as much care and patience as he could manage, Kurt worked the silicon ring off Blaine’s body. He was whispered a quick “You can come,” before leaning forward and taking Blaine into his mouth, heedless of where Blaine’s cock had just been, swallowing him down. It took almost no time at all for Blaine to come, pulsing hot into Kurt’s throat, and Kurt took it, happy to give this much back.

Blaine was still shaking hard, body limp and small sobs still falling from his lips. Kurt moved up the bed as quickly as he could, pulling Blaine’s lax form into his arms. Pressing soft kisses all over Blaine’s face, Kurt whispered praise as he cradled his sub in his arms. It took awhile for Blaine’s breathing to even out, and even longer for him to begin to respond to Kurt’s touches, curling back into Kurt’s hold.

“You with me, Beautiful?” Kurt asked softly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down the back of Blaine’s neck.

“Yeah,” Blaine breathed, voice hoarse, broken sounding. “I’m just kind of… drained.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” Kurt asked neutrally, letting his hand wander down to rub Blaine’s back, sticky with cooling sweat.

“A good way,” Blaine promised, voice tired but happy. “Can you take the blindfold off? I want to see you.”

“Of course.” Blaine’s eyes were bright with the remnants of tears when Kurt removed the blindfold. Kurt was struck sharply with the memory of the first time he’d ever seen Blaine’s eyes, long after falling in love with him. Blaine’s eyes had been full of wonder then, but now they just held happiness and contentment. Blaine blinked rapidly, and Kurt smiled. “Hey, you. Happy Anniversary.”

Smiling softly, Blaine curled into Kurt’s chest, snuggling down. “Happy anniversary. I love you so much, Kurt.”

“And I love you, Beautiful. So much.”

—

525,600 minutes, how do you measure a year in the life?

Measure in love.