A/N: Graphic sex in this chapter - do I need to warn for this? :)

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CHAPTER 6: The night

They talked a little longer that night, picking the date – three days from now – and discussing details of their plan. Then they parted and Kurt went home, almost skipping with excitement.

As much as he'd thought about it, he never hoped he would ever get to actually try and exorcize his demons for real. It was probably one thing to imagine it and quite another to truly, physically revisit that fateful night, but honestly, he couldn't wait. This would work, he was sure of it. He would get over his phobia at last.

The idea was born a few years ago, when he was browsing through some trauma survivors' forums like he did sometimes, looking for something – anything – new that could help him deal with his problem. He had given up on counseling by then, but his own ideas of solutions had brought him nothing so far. That day, in an old discussion thread, a solitary reply caught his attention.

You should try to revisit the source of your trauma – the place, the person, the circumstances. Taming the memories, taking control over them, may numb your brain to the things that trigger you.

He knew nothing about the poster's situation – they were a new user who only posted this one thing a couple of years ago – but the words sparked something in Kurt, a flicker of hope he hadn't felt in a while.

He'd talked about his ordeal with his therapist, of course, and had come to a point where he could think about it without breaking into cold sweat, but actually seeing the place where it happened or confronting the man who had done it to him that night had never crossed his mind. His throat clenched at the mere thought, but his reaction only strengthened the feeling that this might be it. This could be the way to conquer his phobias.

Of course, there was no way he could find either the house where they'd been kept or Matt himself – the details of the case were confidential, he knew that from the FBI. But the idea was so firmly stuck in Kurt's head by then that for lack of that option, he went with the next best thing: his imagination.

The first time he visualized entering that suite again and seeing Matt waiting for him, it nearly ended with a panic attack. It was all so vivid in his head – every detail of the room, every line of the man's face. But Kurt only gave himself a day before trying again. And then again, until he was able to stay in the room, look around, sit on the bed.

In his head, he wasn't a sex slave anymore. He wasn't trapped there, no one made him do anything, he didn't have to humiliate himself begging Matt for sex. They were equals, as they should be.

In his head, Matt was a lover, not a client.

So it only felt natural that with time, when merely "revisiting" the place in his imagination didn't help with his inhibitions, Kurt started to go back to what they'd done, he and Matt. It made sense. The sex had caused his problems in the first place, so that was what he needed to be okay with to be able to move on, right? And he was in control here, in his head. He could cut and edit the memories, remove everything that suggested that he was forced into anything. He could substitute fear and pain with pleasure. So he did.

He tried not to think what his old therapist would say about his experiments. It was an alternative thing, he reasoned with himself, something different. Psyche is such a personal thing, after all. The mainstream approach hadn't worked for him, so he had to explore anything and everything that could give him hope.

In his head, he was perfectly okay with touch – he craved it, wanted the caresses and the closeness, the most intense acts and the intimacy of coming down in his lover's arms. In reality, he got off to the fantasy countless times over the months, and fell asleep feeling safe and whole afterwards. But whenever he tried to chase that safety with another man, it wasn't there.

Merely imagining it all wasn't helping after all. Only getting to relive it for real would.

And now he would finally have a chance.

***

Blaine was relieved to hear that Kurt didn't expect them to replay that long-ago night in any way. He just wanted to finally have sex, nothing more than a hook up.

It didn't sound that bad, and if it wasn't for their first encounter, he'd surely be more than okay with it – enthusiastic even, considering how gorgeous Kurt was, even more so than five years ago. But as it was, as days went by, he was more and more nervous.

It wasn't that he was afraid of the sex – of course not, he'd done it so many times and in such different circumstances that he was pretty sure nothing would be a problem here. No, he was just acutely aware how bad this could go, both for his and Kurt's mental states. They both had some issues after last time – Blaine knew perfectly well just how fucked up he was, and Kurt had admitted that night still affected his life too. Sleeping together again might help – or it might go terribly, dreadfully wrong. Like, mental breakdown level of wrong. And while he knew about it and consciously accepted the risk, he wasn't so sure about Kurt. Then again, Kurt wasn't a kid anymore – he'd grown into an adult, with his own mind and his own decisions, and it wasn't Blaine's job to think for him and protect him.

Still, when that evening came, and Blaine opened the door to find Kurt flushed and excited, the wave of doubt flooded his resolve and bubbled out of him.

"Hi. I was thinking, um – Maybe we should go out on a date first? Or, whatever, not a date, just... get to know each other?" Blaine knew he sounded flustered and unsure, which was so stupid. He wasn't some inexperienced teenager.

But Kurt just made the two steps into the apartment and closed the door behind him. Suddenly his smell was all around Blaine, a cool hand on the side of his neck and soft lips on his, and Blaine gasped in surprise, all hesitation fading into the background, forgotten.

Kurt tasted like peppermint and vanilla chapstick, his tongue bold but gentle as it flickered against the seam of Blaine's lips, causing arousal to spike high and intense without a warning. Hands moving of their own accord to embrace Kurt's waist and pull him closer, Blaine parted his lips in an invitation that was accepted immediately. Kurt deepened the kiss, diving into Blaine's mouth just for a moment to dance teasingly against his tongue. Then he was moving away, leaving Blaine gasping and aching for more contact.

"I'm a Gemini, I grew up in Ohio, my mom died when I was eight and I love Broadway musicals. There, you know me. Now, where's the bedroom?"

By the time Blaine managed to catch his breath and point in the right direction, Kurt had taken off his boots and slipped out of his coat, and was bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. Blaine looked at him closely.

"You look awfully excited."

Kurt grinned. "I'm going to have sex. Sure I'm excited." He shrugged a little. "Also, I may have had some wine."

Uh-oh. "Are you drunk? We shouldn't do this when you're drunk."

"No! I swear, just a little tipsy. I've only had two glasses. Alcohol just makes me a little bouncy sometimes." He started towards the bedroom, but Blaine stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Kurt. Don't you think this may not be a good idea if you need alcohol to go through with it?"

Kurt shook his head fervently. "I don't need it, though. It was just... in case. To make sure I'm relaxed – I always am after some wine, and relaxed equals good when it comes to sex, right?"

Blaine had to agree, though he still had some doubts. "True. I actually should have thought about it back then, it might have –"

"No." Kurt snapped, a sharp edge of finality to his voice. "We don't talk about that night, ever." His face softened and he smiled again. "I just didn't want my hypothetical nerves to ruin this. But if you're worried that alcohol will make me do things I wouldn't do otherwise, don't. It doesn't work that way, and I tried. Believe me, I tried. My boundaries stay firmly in place, no matter how much I drink. So, can we go to the bedroom now?"

Blaine nodded. Okay. Kurt was free to make his own mistakes. "Be my guest."

Despite his reservations, he'd prepared the bedroom today – cleaned and aired it, put fresh sheets on the bed and supplies on the bedside table. He'd lit a small lamp that gave low, warm light, and put several candles around the room, to light in case Kurt wanted to make it romantic or something.

But as they entered the room, it became clear pretty fast that Kurt didn't much care about the details of his surroundings. He moved back into Blaine's space immediately, his lips returning to where they'd been just a moment before, and Blaine dove into the kiss. It'd been a long time since it had felt like this, just kissing – honest and passionate, all-consuming. Instinctively, he put his hands on Kurt's back and pulled him in closer, releasing him a second later as he realized what he'd done.

It was supposed to be Kurt's night, his pace and his choices.

But Kurt stopped his half-formed apology. "Blaine, I'm not that boy anymore. I haven't been that boy for years. I'm just a guy, we're at your place to have sex, and I want this so bad. Please, stop stopping yourself."

Kurt's arms wound around his waist, pulling him closer until he felt his body heat and a very noticeable bulge in his pants. It was enough to let Blaine give up some of the restraint he was trying to hold onto. He'd still let Kurt lead, but Kurt was right. It was basically a hook-up with a gorgeous, enthusiastic man, and Blaine just needed to forget who that man was and take it the way it was given. Or rather, give what was asked of him.

Kurt's lips and hands were eager and certain, and soon they were on the bed, both shirtless and aroused. Blaine couldn't get over how much Kurt enjoyed every touch and kiss, how vocal he was. But then he remembered that Kurt had never really had a chance to simply take pleasure from physical intimacy. He'd never been able to go beyond kisses, he said. Blaine would never guess, given his boldness, but if that was the case, no wonder he reacted so intensely now – years of pent-up desires were finally finding an outlet.

Right now, Kurt was straddling his thighs, touching and kissing every inch of Blaine's neck and chest with his starry eyes open and amazed. Blaine drew his fingernails down Kurt's back and he moaned loudly, his hips staggering against Blaine's erection.

"Oh god... Please, way too many clothes on. I need you naked, now."

"So undress me." Blaine said, voice low and rough, already undone.

It spurred Kurt on; he dropped his own pants and underwear first, and Blaine gasped at the perfection of his naked form. Then he made an express job of Blaine's belt and fly, and after mere seconds Kurt settled back over him, his weight sweet and welcome.

The moment their cocks brushed, Kurt let out such a decadent moan that Blaine felt arousal bubble impatiently in his blood. Kurt's hips were moving in crazy patterns over him, their dicks brushing hot and too dry, and Blaine reached for the bottle of lube, passing it to Kurt. A squelching sound, and soon it was all perfect, slippery pressure, Kurt's moans increasing in frequency – and Blaine acted on instinct. One hand tangling in Kurt's hair, he tugged to have more access to the creamy skin of his long, elegant neck, and bit lightly on the tendon there, sucking, licking, humming against it. The other hand landed on Kurt's bare ass where it fit perfectly against the gentle curve. Pressing down just a bit harder while sucking a mark into the lovely skin, Blaine pushed his hips up once, twice, before he felt Kurt stiffening, heard his voice breaking sharply as he pulsed against him for what felt like forever.

Blaine wasn't there yet, so he waited patiently as Kurt came down from his high, a heavy weight on his chest, panting into the crook of his neck. The moment his breath evened out a little, Kurt rolled off him and raised his head, looking for a tissue. He found a package of moist toilettes instead and cleaned the mess off their stomachs before settling between Blaine's parted legs.

"I want to suck you."

Mmm... Blaine reached for a box of flavored condoms and passed one to Kurt, who looked at it, incredulous.

"But... really? You want me to lick that?"

Blaine shrugged. "Well, you can contract STDs through oral sex. And you shouldn't trust me. I always take care to be protected, but I've had many sexual partners so how can you be sure? Especially since I just came back from vacation where I slept with strangers."

He didn't know why he was saying this – put like that, it sounded awfully crude. Surprisingly, Kurt didn't wince or grimace – it was like he expected this from Blaine, like he saw him as sexually promiscuous already. He just took the condom and tore the wrapper, his fingers a little shy and awkward as he slid it – correctly – onto Blaine's length.

He didn't go right to his target, though, spending long minutes mapping Blaine's chest and stomach with his tongue instead. And what a talented tongue it was. By the time Kurt's lips got to the crease of his thigh, Blaine was arching and moaning, close to begging for more. The look on Kurt's face – amazed and delighted – changed briefly to disgust as he swirled his tongue around the head of Blaine's cock for the first time.

"Ew, it tastes like rubber and cough syrup. It's not going to be any fun like this."

The short dance of Kurt's tongue, finally where Blaine wanted it, made him whine at the loss of contact. He was used to the barrier of condom when doing this, so it didn't bother him anymore. Frankly, he barely remembered having sex without them. It had been almost five years since his last real relationship ended. He reached to tangle his fingers in Kurt's hair, just tugging lightly to spur him on.

"You can have all the fun when you're in a monogamous relationship, now please, Kurt – yes, please, like this."

Kurt dived down, his lips sliding down Blaine's shaft, warm and snug around it, and Blaine's fingers tightened instinctively. The loud moan that vibrated out of Kurt's throat and through Blaine made him shout out and arch his back as Kurt's tongue moved deftly, as if trying to get acquainted with every vein, curve and ridge. Another breathless moan, and Blaine realized that his fingers were fisted in what must have been a painful hold on Kurt's hair. He released it immediately, murmuring apologies, but Kurt pulled off quickly.

"No, Blaine, you can – I liked it. Don't push me, but wow, I've never thought it would be so hot."

Humming in pleasure at both of Blaine's hands carding through his hair, Kurt went back to his exploration. He mouthed down the side of his cock until his tongue played gently around Blaine's balls, and god, where did this kid learn all this?

"Are you sure you've never done this before?" Blaine asked, his voice ragged and breathless. "You're sort of amazing."

"Must be a natural talent. Or all that porn and fantasies." Kurt came back to sliding his mouth down Blaine's cock, before sucking tightly on the upslide, and Blaine had no more words, only incoherent sounds of pleasure and his fingers tugging on Kurt's thick hair. Minutes later, he was shouting out his orgasm, surprised at its intensity. He'd done a lot more, with talented, experienced lovers. And yet this – he hadn't come so hard in a long time.

As soon as he came down from his orgasm, he became aware of two things – the condom still covering his rapidly softening cock and the fact that Kurt, fully hard again, was rubbing against his thigh, mouth half-open in pleasure.

Where was the fun in that?

Quickly getting rid of the condom, Blaine stilled Kurt's hips with a firm hold.

"Wait."

"But you look so hot when you come, I need to – " Another attempt at pressing down, but Blaine didn't let go.

"Wait, I can do you better if you let me."

Kurt's eyes became more focused. "Oh. Okay?"

In one fluid movement, Blaine got out from under Kurt's body, leaving him on his stomach in the tangled sheets. He stroked his fingernails down Kurt's back, a wave of goosebumps following his trail, and then started kissing down the valley of Kurt's spine, right to the adorable twin dimples on the small of his back. He pushed his fingers in them, Kurt's hips stuttering with an impatient whine, and then lightly bit the lovely swell of Kurt's ass. His tongue circling tightly, he slid down the crack before pulling the cheeks apart and diving right in. Kurt cried out a muffled Ohdeargodpleaseyes the second Blaine's tongue made the first contact with the tight pink asterisk of his hole.

Blaine took his time – he enjoyed rimming but didn't get to indulge in it often. Kurt was impeccably clean, trimmed carefully and smelling of some spicy body wash, and it was pure pleasure to lick and kiss the soft skin, teasing with the tip of his tongue on the very edge before pushing in just a bit. Kurt was panting and keening into the pillows, his body tense and trembling with an approaching orgasm and his dick rutting into the sheets. But as Blaine pushed his tongue in deeper, he whined in a high-strung voice.

"More, please, I need your fingers."

Surprised, Blaine pulled off and Kurt growled in frustration.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm fucking sure, how do you think I survived until now without sex? Now, please, Blaine..."

Without further objections, he lubed up and pushed one finger through the ring of muscle. It slid in easily, and Kurt screamed in pleasure. "More."

"Already?"

"More, Blaine dammit."

The second finger went in just as smoothly. Three slides, deep and slow, and Kurt was writhing on the bed, sobbing in release, repeating Yes and Yes and Fuck yes.

***

They took a little breather after that. Kurt showered while Blaine changed the sheets to avoid dealing with wet spots, and then they lay together, just looking at each other. Kurt couldn't resist reaching across the little bit of space between their naked bodies to play with the hair covering Blaine's chest. Who would have thought he had a thing for that. But then again, he never had much chance to explore his likes and preferences. Watching porn didn't really count as research, after all. Blaine's chest hair was soft and dark, inviting to run fingers through it, and Kurt wondered how it would feel if he nuzzled his cheek against it. One more thing to try.

It wasn't that Kurt had no experience in sexual things – oh no, he'd had plenty since that night five years ago. The problem was, they were all of a solo variety.

Over a year after the kidnapping had passed before he'd decided he was ready for dating. Or – well – his heart had decided. There'd been this one boy in his Theatrical Design class... And he'd even returned Kurt's affections. But it turned out that even the most patient guy would eventually expect more than a kiss. And Kurt had simply frozen, panicked every time it had happened. The lightest touch, the gentlest caress – it was too much.

So they'd fallen apart after a few dates, exchanging apologies and half-hearted promises to stay in touch, and that was it.

Afterwards, Kurt had spent a year trying everything he could think of – experiments with a few different guys, in different circumstances and states of consciousness, and therapy with several different counselors. One of them suggested including a boyfriend in their sessions, but Kurt refused immediately. For one, he didn't really have one, there was no one special whom he might be able to trust enough to share his story with. And it was unlikely he would find one until he dealt with his problem. No, he just had to find a way to fight this on his own.

He could do it.

So there were more dates, and more therapy. He'd given up when a sexologist he visited suggested that maybe he wasn't ready to get better yet; that maybe he hadn't grieved losing his virginity the way he had, maybe it was still an unfinished business in his mind.

Now that he thought about it, lying in Blaine's bed, kissing the soft, slightly sweaty skin of his neck and not feeling one bit of anxiety about the intimacy of it, Kurt realized that she may have been right. But back then, he'd thrown a fit and left. Decided to deal with it by himself.

His needs had been growing and slowly, hesitantly at first, he'd begun experimenting with sex – by himself.

Soon, it became clear that it wasn't sex that terrified him so – it was giving up control. Trusting anyone with his body. Alone – Kurt could do anything. But letting another man touch him – at least a man who seemed to want him, sexually – caused panic to take over immediately.

Because how could he be sure they would be kind and gentle, and wouldn't hurt him? That they would stop when he told them to? The first guy he'd ever dated, the one he'd given his first kiss to, had kidnapped him a few days later and sold him into a brothel. And he'd never been with anyone except for that one night – how would he know what was okay and what should cause red lights to go off in his head, when his instincts were so screwed that everything made them go off anyway? He'd seen too much, heard too much during those days when he'd been locked away with the other boys in their attic bedroom. Scars and bruises, and stories of normal, nice men turning into monsters once their lust took control. There was just no way to tell – anyone could be a sick pervert, just trying to gain Kurt's trust, sweet-talk their way into his bed and use him.

No, it was safer to play alone.

Now, almost three years since his first awkward attempts at fingering, the drawer in his bedside table contained several carefully chosen and regularly used toys, and he had quite a lot of experience in virtual and even Skype sex. But all he really wanted was this – warm skin against and around him, insistent lips seeking out the spots on his body that made him shiver, hands stroking, squeezing, grabbing. The melody of moans and pants, the thrum of want in his veins, a real dick inside him.

And now he could finally have it. Because, ironically, despite the forced character of their first encounter, Blaine felt safe like no one else. He'd had a huge part in ruining Kurt's life, yes – but doing so, he'd never, not for one second, been violent or cruel. Quite the contrary – whatever his ulterior motives for taking that mission, he'd made Kurt believe he would take care of him. And he had.

Another deep kiss, and he whispered against Blaine's lips. "Fuck me."

Golden eyes, wide and dazed with desire, focused on his. "Yes. God, yes."

And then there were fingers again, longer than Kurt's or maybe just at a better angle, sliding, stretching, getting where he always needed his dildo to reach, and Kurt was already so far gone he couldn't even talk, could only take it, loud and open, and not even ashamed.

Three fingers, pumping in and out in a steady rhythm, teasing perfectly over that one spot every now and then, and god, how could it be so mind-blowingly good already?

"Blaine, please –"

A crinkle of the condom wrapper, a lewd sound from the lube bottle and then – finally – the blunt pressure, the familiar stretch, stronger with Blaine's cock being a bit larger than Kurt's toys, but so welcome. He knew he was keening, crying out nonsensical words, screaming maybe, but he didn't care. His legs wound tightly around Blaine's tiny waist to spur him on – harder, faster – Kurt was racing towards completion in a whirlwind of pleasure more intense than he'd believed possible. He wanted it to last forever, but all too soon, he felt the waves of his orgasm crashing over him like a tsunami, and he got lost in it, blissfully happy to just flow wherever it would take him.

He came to, hidden in Blaine's arms, feeling so good he didn't really want to move ever again. But a gentle hand stroked a strand of hair off his sweaty forehead and without opening his eyes, Kurt leaned up for a kiss, sweet and soft. He sighed in delight.

"I think you fucked my brains out."

"Is that a bad thing?" There was a smile in Blaine's voice and Kurt felt a sudden need to open his eyes and see it. He didn't regret it – it was so beautiful, warm and carefree, and he realized this was the first time he'd seen Blaine really, truly smile.

"Not at all."

He felt sated, content; sliding slowly towards sleep. With heroic effort, he wiggled out of Blaine's arms and sat on the bed.

"I should go."

Blaine opened his sleepy eyes; he started dozing off too.

"Mm. Or you could stay until morning."

He could – he hadn't planned to, but mostly for Blaine's sake; the man probably had to be at the office early and Kurt didn't want to add awkwardness to the morning rush. But since Blaine offered... Kurt honestly didn't feel like leaving the soft, warm bed.

"Is there a chance for a morning quickie if I stay?"

Blaine smirked. "Insatiable, are we? Sure, we can arrange that."

"Deal." He was already settling back into Blaine's embrace, almost humming with pleasure. He'd known that sex could be fantastic – and it was, better than he'd ever imagined – but the simple pleasure of cuddling into another man's warmth like this surprised him. He'd never been a very tactile person, and in the past five years, he'd actively avoided touch. Now it felt like he was starved for it, every nerve ending begging for the soothing contact of another body. He felt a little drunk on it, even though the buzz of wine had long worn off in the intensity of the night.

"Can you tell me something? Honestly?" He didn't know where it came from or why; it just bubbled out of him. Blaine opened his eyes, a little more awake, and considered him for a moment before answering.

"Only if you tell me something in return."

"Why did you go into the FBI?" This wasn't one of the questions Kurt really wanted answers for, but he didn't dare ask those, after all. Not tonight. Probably not ever.

Blaine answered without a pause. "Because my father wanted me to. When was the last time you've been honestly happy?"

Now that was a question Kurt didn't see coming. He had to think for a bit, but even then – "I don't know," he answered, half-surprised. He hadn't thought about happiness for such a long time. It was all about surviving, getting over things, finding a place where he could fit, getting better – always getting better. Happiness was an abstract, something from books and romantic comedies.

Blaine made some kind of noise – understanding? sympathy? – and before Kurt had time to respond in any way, Blaine's eyes closed. His breathing evened out within seconds and just like that, he was asleep. Kurt took a moment to just look at him before switching off the bedside lamp. Blaine's face looked younger like this, the frown lines on his forehead not that pronounced. His jaw was slack and his beautiful (talented) lips half open – he didn't look like a tough, hard FBI agent at all.

Oh well, everyone has a human side. Kurt shook away the softness creeping in on him, wiggled closer into the delicious warmth and drifted into sleep.