CHAPTER 16

On Friday Kurt came home from work to find Blaine there, curled up in the widow seat, looking out at the rain-soaked world with a phone by his ear. He was barely saying anything, mostly just humming acknowledgement at whoever was at the other end of the line. His face looked anxious and miserable when he looked over, and Kurt tensed, instinct to help and protect flaring. He wasn't going to eavesdrop, but the apartment wasn't that big and even from his bedroom, where he retreated to give Blaine some privacy and get changed into more comfortable clothes, he could hear the words a moment later.

"Yes, I know. Thank you, father, of course I appreciate it."

Blaine's voice sounded all wrong in a way Kurt hadn't heard it before, higher than usual and strained. Kurt pulled on a t-shirt, gave up on changing the pants and hurried back to the living room to find his boyfriend looking small and unhappy, curled tight on himself, with his chin resting on his bent knees.

He flashed Kurt a ghost of a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring, but wasn't, and then turned away to look out at the rain again.

Kurt hesitated in the doorway, unsure what to do. With an exception of Cooper and Sebastian, it's been a while since he'd been close enough to anybody to inquire about their problems, and his last boyfriend had hated when he did that. Still, the emotions radiating off Blaine were strong enough that he hurt through empathy. He approached cautiously, instinct pushing him to gather the boy in his arms and protect, but reason and experience advising to wait.

"Do you want to talk? Or... a hug?" There, it was open enough, right? Nothing forceful?

Blaine just shook his head, not looking at him. Okay, then.

"Well, I'm right here if you do." He moved to the kitchen counter and pulled out vegetables for tonight's dinner. Chopping and dicing was distracting enough and yet not too demanding of his preoccupied mind.

Halfway through cutting the second pepper he heard movement from the window seat and looked up to find Blaine watching his movements with heavy, liquid eyes. He didn't say anything though, so Kurt remained quiet, too. He was almost done with the salad by the time Blaine spoke, his voice tight and all wrong still.

"How does he always manage to reduce me to this within five minutes of conversation?"

Clearly, he didn't expect an answer – but it was something. Kurt slid the last of the green olives into the bowl, put it in the fridge and washed his hands. The rest of the preparations could wait.

He came closer to the window seat again and leaned against the wall by Blaine's feet.

"Your father?"

Blaine cleared his throat. "Yes. Here I am, happily waiting for you to come back, and then he calls and talks to me for a few minutes and I'm left like... this. And he didn't even say anything particularly bad."

An unspoken this time hung in the air and Kurt felt his dislike of Mr. Anderson senior grow exponentially. He didn't say anything though. Blaine seemed to only need him to listen for now, his voice getting more bitter and harder as he spoke.

"Just his usual stuff. I mean, I know who I am, Kurt. I accept who I am. I'm far from perfect, but I'm not that terrible, either. I'm good at some things, and given time, I can be really good at a few others, and I have some likeable qualities, I think. I know what I want, I have passions and goals and dreams. And yet my own father always manages to turn me into a pitiful heap of nothing in a few sentences."

There were tears clearly audible in Blaine's voice now, even though they hadn't reached his eyes yet, and the surge to take care became overwhelming. Kurt's voice was firm and full of conviction as he spoke.

"Bee, you're about as far from either pitiful or nothing as I can imagine, I swear."

Blaine looked up at him at last, and those eyes were like knives through the heart, so huge and sad, brimming with tears already.

"I guess I know, rationally. But that's how I feel. He makes me doubt everything about me. Even when he only calls to tell me he bought me a ticket back to Ohio – for the day after my birthday, by the way. Yay. One stupid conversation about a plane ticket and he manages to imply that I've escaped my problems here, that I don't take my education seriously, I'm ungrateful for everything they do for me and overall, I'm a weak, spoiled kid who should be taught how to be a man." He sighed and wiped at his eyes in an annoyed gesture. "Sorry, I shouldn't dump it on you. I normally don't talk about it, it's just... hard, sometimes."

Kurt put his hand on Blaine's where it lay on his knee.

"Hey, it's okay. You can talk to me about anything and everything, I promise." He intertwined their fingers and tugged at Blaine's hand a bit, struck with an idea. "Come on, let me help you feel better."

Blaine let out a small, wet laugh, but shook his head. "Sorry, I just... I don't feel much like sex right now."

"Who said anything about sex? Come on, trust me."

This time Blaine followed easily, sliding off the seat and taking the step into Kurt's waiting arms.

"I do trust you, you know."

Kurt kissed him sweetly, just once. "Thank you," and led him to the bedroom. "Lay down, okay?"

Blaine did so without question, his expression still miserable, but a little curious now, too, and once he was sprawled in the middle of the bed, Kurt climbed up to sit cross-legged beside him.

He already had a plan.

He was pretty sure no one had ever taken the time to tell Blaine exactly how wonderful he was. And Kurt could say plenty about it. So he would.

He took one of Blaine's hands and stroked it as he spoke.

"I may not have known you as long as your father obviously has, but I'm pretty sure I do know you better. So I want to tell you what I see when I look at you. I want you to listen, and not interrupt, either verbally or not. Okay?"

Blaine nodded, clearly intrigued now. Kurt leaned in and kissed those luscious lips once, then drew back and smiled.

"When I met you at the airport, my first thought was beautiful. So beautiful, Bee. Your face, your eyes, the way you smile. It literally lights up the room, you know? You're so radiant when you're happy, it's infectious. And your body..."

Kurt let himself look Blaine over in a completely obvious way, enjoying the view. He ran his fingertips down Blaine's chest, delicious in a tight black tank top, before looking up again.

"You're gorgeous, Blaine. You're so damn hot, I had such a hard time trying not to ogle you when we first met."

Blaine's breath was picking up speed, his cheeks a little flushed, and Kurt kissed him once again before continuing.

"But that was only the beginning, because ever since then, I've had a chance to see how beautiful you are on the inside, too. It's not just a pretty facade, it's actually what you are, inside and out. Beautiful."

Blaine opened his mouth to speak, but Kurt put a finger to it, silencing him. If Blaine thought that was all he had to say, he was really mistaken. Kurt ran his fingertip around the lovely contour of Blaine's lips once they closed, finishing at the seam.

"I mean, you're so sweet. So gentle and caring. You really, honestly care, not just pretend to. You're this sweet boy who would carry heavy bags for an old lady or climb a tree to help a kitten. And I'm pretty sure by now that you're like that in every aspect of your life. True to your beliefs, moral, compassionate. Do you have any idea how rare that is, Bee? People who honestly care for others and not just their own gain; who dare to have their own beliefs and act on them? It's a minority, and I'm in awe that in spite of where you live and what you've had to endure because of it, you haven't lost it. Your parents should be so proud of you. I know I am."

Blaine's mouth was open again, just slightly, but he wasn't trying to speak this time – he looked almost comically surprised, his eyes wide and wondering. Kurt smiled and kissed his forehead.

"And once I got to speak to you a little, I began to realize that you're not just gorgeous and sweet, you're actually smart, too. Which was... well, not a shock, just, wow. I expected a sulky teenager whose company I'd have to somehow endure while showing him enough of New York to fulfill my promise to Coop. What I found was a guy who I can really talk with, and I know, it sounds so normal, but it's not. We talk about everything, Bee, have you noticed? From music and fashion and history to sociopolitical issues, and everything in between, and god. I've never lost you in a conversation, and it's exhilarating, you have no idea. I mean, yes, that's one of the reasons I love Seb and Cooper, they're both freaking smart, but in general, when I try to talk with a random person outside of my small social circle, I get some weird looks pretty fast. Or blank stares. Don't even get me started on handsome guys. Or nice guys. Nice, handsome men who challenge me intellectually? Exceptions. And that's you before you're eighteen, Blaine. I don't know what the hell your father thinks, but I'm absolutely certain that you're going to be great in whatever future you choose for yourself because you're smart and you know what you want, and when you put your mind to it, you're going to get there. No doubts whatsoever."

There were tears in Blaine's eyes at this point and he reached to pull Kurt into a hard, heated kiss, ignoring his calls of "No interrupting!" Kurt acquiesced for a moment, returning the kiss while Blaine's fingers tangled in his hair, but the second it started to get out of control he pulled away.

"Hands away, honey. Come on, hold on to the headboard if it keeps you from touching, but don't interrupt. I'm not finished talking."

Blaine pouted and stretched out, grabbing the rungs overhead obediently, and Kurt had to bite down on his own lip not to moan. The position only made the muscles in Blaine's arms more pronounced, and his top had ridden up a little, exposing a strip of skin, the hipbones jutting invitingly. Kurt took a steadying breath.

Hand tracing the firm contours of Blaine's arm, he continued.

"And you are strong, Blaine, don't let anyone tell you otherwise, ever. Look, even with life giving you crap – your family, the bullying, the daily, casual homophobia of a small town – it hasn't broken you. And I know how hard it is, to power through stuff like this, and I know how strong it makes you – unless it breaks you, of course. Which it didn't, and I'm sure it won't. It's all built you up, toughened you and it's such a stunning contrast when I realize that you're so strong, and yet still sweet and caring inside."

He paused to smile mischievously and kiss the sweet spot just under Blaine's jaw.

"Not to mention your physical strength. The way your muscles shift when you play the guitar or, god, when you swim. I want to see you box one day, preferably in a private location because I know I won't be able to keep my hands to myself. And when you took all those grocery bags from me the other day and ran up the stairs with them as if they weighed nothing, I admit I might have had a breathtaking vision of you fucking me against the wall –"

In a flash, Kurt found himself rolled over and pressed to the bed, Blaine devouring his lips and grinding his hips down. He whimpered, taken by surprise, and it took nearly inhuman amounts of self-control to roll them over and pull away, holding Blaine's wrists pinned to the bed.

"Do I need to handcuff you to let me finish talking?" he teased.

There was a small shift in the air, a tiny gasp and a sudden darkening of Blaine's eyes, and then Kurt remembered. His eyebrows shot up.

"Oh my god, you do want me to cuff you." His voice was full of awe, the pants that he hadn't had time to change after work way too tight for that. Blaine blinked, swallowed.

He nodded, barely perceptively.

Kurt scrambled off the bed to pull out a small wooden box hidden beneath it. He hadn't used most of the items there in ages, but he easily found what he was looking for. On a whim, he added one more thing to the cuffs, and returned to the bed.

Blaine was waiting patiently, looking a little shell-shocked, but the way his cock was now straining against the confines of his jeans left no doubts that it was not a bad kind of shock. Kurt straddled his middle, taking care not to brush against him or it might be the end of any self-control, shaky as it already was.

He took one of the cuffs and fastened it around Blaine's wrist, careful not to tighten it too much, and Blaine moaned at the sensation. Kurt clipped the silver chain to the headboard and shifted to do the second hand, too.

He'd bought the cuffs years ago, while he'd been in a six-months-long relationship with an adventurous bisexual who'd taught him everything he knew about various kinks (and then cheated on him with a woman). They were about as far from classic metal handcuffs as possible – a pair of black, soft leather cuffs with a 10-inch silver chain each, they could be used separately or fastened together. They were comfortable, versatile and didn't rub the wrists the way fabric did, leaving no marks. Plus, they were pretty, which was essential for Kurt.

He looked his work over once he was done. Oh yes, it was a wonderful picture. His gorgeous boyfriend, flushed and disheveled, the black and silver contrasting beautifully with the tan skin... Perfection.

He moved off the bed again; there was one thing that had to be done before they could proceed. There was no way he could stay in these pants; they were not designed for sexual situations. Pushing the tight jeans down, he sighed in relief and returned to the bed, only the black v-neck and light blue boxer briefs on. Blaine pulled on the restraints and groaned.

Oh, this was going to be so much fun.

Kurt took his time running his palms over the definition of Blaine's stomach before he spoke again.

"Where was I? Oh, your strength. So, believe me – Blaine? Are you listening to me?"

He wasn't, eyes trained on the bulge in Kurt's underwear. Oh, okay, so a tiny wet spot might have appeared there, his cock a little overly eager, but really, he was saying important stuff here. Kurt took the long strip of black crushed velvet he'd pulled out of the box earlier and moved up the bed.

"I think I might just have to cover your eyes so that you can focus on my words, hm?" He murmured, and Blaine moaned, straining to try and mouth on Kurt's cock which was just inches too far for him to reach. "Blaine?"

"Yes, yes you can blindfold me; you can do anything you want to me, please. Just... I'm not sure I'm capable of actually understanding anything you may say now, my brain is so not interested in words."

Kurt brushed the strip of soft fabric over Blaine's eyes before tying it, not too tight, but enough to block out any light. He settled back on his heels then, one hand tracing random patterns over Blaine's chest and stomach, pushing the top further up, enjoying the way the muscles trembled under his fingertips.

"Oh, it's okay, I wasn't going to say anything too complicated. Just that I adore what a generous, talented lover you are, so good with your hands and your lips. Which isn't really that much of a surprise, considering you do practice a lot... I mean, playing and singing, of course. And –" Kurt let his hand wander down over the straining fabric of Blaine's jeans and gasped in an exaggerated manner. "Oh, but you must be uncomfortable. Here, can I help you with these pants?"

"God yes, please." Blaine all but groaned and then whined when Kurt accidentally brushed his hand over Blaine's length while opening the zipper. Kurt did his best to sound apologetic even though he really wasn't.

"I'm sorry, you said no sex today. I'll be good. Let me just finish talking and I'll uncuff you, and we can cuddle." Kurt was in full-on tease mode now, and loving it.

"No! Please, Kurt, please please please, I think –"

"Yes?" He shouldn't have so much fun; his goal was to comfort Blaine, after all. But he couldn't help himself.

"I think I really need the sex now. To, you know, make sure I won't forget what you said?" Oh, so Blaine was in on the game. Thank god. Kurt smirked.

"Oh really?"

"Definitely."

"Okay, if you think you are better now..."

"I am, Kurt, please." He seemed to be, too, Kurt was glad to notice. He turned down the teasing for a moment to make sure.

"Should I remove the blindfold and cuffs?"

"No, I really really want them on. If I can?"

And oh, Kurt was all too happy to oblige.

"Yes, you can." It was whispered against the warm skin of Blaine's hipbone, just over the waistband of his briefs, and he whimpered. Kurt got off the bed once more.

"You know, I think I need to take those off." He made a show of removing the last two articles of his clothing, letting them brush and whisper against his skin so that Blaine could hear. Then he climbed back on the bed and lay by his boyfriend's side, pressing against him and diving in for a kiss. "Hmm, I'll just use the fact that you're quite immobile now to show you how much I love your body. To, you know, reiterate the message."

Kurt loved teasing. He loved having a lot of time and an eager partner to prolong the play, control the situation. It gave him a thrill beyond anything else and after a few years of having no opportunity for this kind of fun – one-night stands rarely meant more than just easy, uncomplicated sex – he was ecstatic to be able to share it with Blaine who, it turned out, loved it too.

Kurt took his sweet time kissing and licking every uncovered inch of Blaine's skin, sucking little hickeys in a few well-hidden places. He let his hands roam everywhere, alternating from feather light to kneading to scraping his fingernails in long, swiping lines. He waited until Blaine was a babbling, whimpering mess, arching against the pillows and begging to come before he even removed his briefs – careful not to brush it over the swollen head of Blaine's cock. When he leaned over him, pinning his hips to the bed with strong hands, and simply breathed warm, moist puffs of air, his lips barely an inch over where Blaine wanted them, his boyfriend thrashed against the restraints so hard the bed rattled.

Yes, he was strong.

Kurt knew he could probably make Blaine come with a single swipe of his tongue over the head of his cock at this point. And he was so close himself, having stopped so many times already, that he would most likely follow just from the view. But he really, really wanted something else tonight.

Pulling away, he tried to sound light and conversational.

"Okay, I'm thirsty. I think I'll go drink some water. Do you want something?"

Blaine wanted to kill him, judging by the string of half-coherent words that flew from his mouth. Or maybe just pin him to the wall and fuck him. It was hard to say.

Shit. No thinking about that when he was trying to cool off.

Before leaving the room, Kurt took off Blaine's blindfold and kissed him swiftly. "I'll be right back."

"Kurrrrrrrrt!"

He spent exactly three minutes in the kitchen, sipping cold water and staring at the clock. It felt like an eternity.

When he entered the bedroom again, Blaine growled at him.

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"

Kurt made sure to sound offended.

"Of course not. I'll release you immediately if you want. In fact, I wanted to release you anyway, and then ask you to turn over and –"

"Fuck me?" Hopeful. Desperate.

Kurt bit his lip. That was an option too, but no. It would be over too fast, and he wanted Blaine's first time to be more memorable.

"Not this time. But something new. I think you might like it. I know I do."

***

Blaine loved it.

Kurt's weight over him, anchoring him and pressing him into the bed, was like permission to let go, and he really needed that tonight.

Kurt's cock, long and thick, took Blaine's breath away when it first slid, hot and slippery with the lube, along the crack of his ass. When it brushed over his rim, he thought he'd explode.

He didn't. Not yet. Kurt was slow and careful, letting both of them enjoy the friction, the building pressure of want, need, growing and overwhelming, before he sped up, clearly unable to hold on any longer.

Held between Kurt's strong body and the soft cotton of his sheets, feeling safe and loved and so wanted, Blaine came harder than he'd ever had, his hoarse cry echoing off the walls.

Before he slipped into the sweet abyss of sleep, he whispered one last sentence, just the simplest thing, in case Kurt didn't know. He had to know.

"I love you."