The week passed relatively quickly as their lives fell into a routine. There was a mutual understanding between the two men that once ten o’ clock  hit, the stress and exhaustion brought with the day took second priority to the exhilaration and bliss that was the night. Kurt was refining his oral skills and Blaine was more than happy to be his test subject. But their relationship was becoming more than the ever- persistent lust; they would cuddle and discuss everything from politics (Blaine could make anything seem interesting), to dream destinations to their pasts. Blaine learned the story behind the harp that was now ashes, and Kurt was slowly opening up about his mother. How she would either be constantly humming or singing. How, behind Burt’s back, she taught seven-year-old Kurt how to sew. How she made the best strawberry pies. How she had seemed to know that Kurt was different even before he did, and had always done her best to make him believe he was special.

The more Kurt learned about Blaine’s childhood the more he yearned to show his valet stability. Blaine’s father wasn’t a good enough farmer to be independent and because of his poor work ethic Blaine had spent the first few years of his life moving from substance farm to substance farm, and only settled in Westerville when his mother got a job in the kitchens at Dalton. His parents’ marriage had been obligatory and strained. (The idea of having two parents who didn’t love each other was stranger than Kurt could imagine.) The only thing that Blaine’s mother had ever done to please his father was to bear him two sons.  Blaine had been close to his older brother Cooper, though he did occasionally get jealous of how much stronger and more able he was. Naturally, being a healthy robust young man, Cooper joined the English front during the war. Kurt learned that Blaine’s problems with inferiority were not caused solely by his former employer.  When the news was delivered that his oldest and obviously favorite son was missing in action, Colin Anderson took his anger and pain out on his seemingly worthless younger one Kurt wasn’t sure of the extent of Mr. Anderson’s aggression, but the mysterious scars on Blaine’s back scared him enough to keep from prying.  Blaine hadn’t seen his father since he had started his service job at Dalton, and intended to keep it that way.

That isn’t to say that all the moments of their first full week together were incredibly serious. One particularly memorable evening occurred after Blaine had spent the day polishing the wooden furniture. He hadn’t had the time to clean his hands off and he figured it was best to report to Kurt on time and have to clean up before they started than be late and face his charge’s wrath (Blaine’s hickeys had been creeping closer and closer to his collar and he didn’t want to give Kurt an excuse for payback). However when Blaine had entered Kurt’s room, the young lord had tackled his valet to the bed with no time for any explanation. It wasn’t until a few minutes later, in the middle of pleasuring Blaine, that Kurt had happened to open his eyes and saw that his white undershirt was completely covered in furniture polish handprints. Kurt had pulled his mouth off of Blaine’s length and had refused to finish until his valet had cleaned his shirt. The image of a naked, incredibly hard and slightly dazed Blaine running his undershirt through the laundry ringer that he kept in his room (for such stain emergencies) was one that would stay in Kurt’s mind until the day he died.

Actually throughout the course of that week there were Kurt formed a lot of images of Blaine that would stay with him forever: The little curl that would sometimes emerge from its gel prison when Blaine would sweat; The small secretive smiles that he would flash at Kurt whenever he was serving the family dinner;  The face he’d make whenever he came; The way his mouth looked circling Kurt’s dick; The way his mouth looked when it would whisper Kurt’s name; the dopey smile he got when  he was having a good dream; the look of happy shock on his face he still got right after Kurt would kiss him first.

And it was with one of these kisses that Blaine was greeted with that morning three days before the ball. 

“Morning.” Kurt couldn’t help but smile at what was becoming his favorite expression of Blaine’s.

Blaine snapped back into instant professionalism. “Good morning, sir. What is the agenda for today?”

Kurt picked up his tea from the tray and sat down on his bed, pondering. “Well, I suppose Finn and I should go pickup our suits from the tailor; we’d need you to assist us of course…” He trailed off, lost in a world that Blaine wished he could enter.

“Of course, sir.”

“Does Mike need you to assist with the cleaning today?”

Blaine paused, not sure how to continue. The truth was he had walked in on Mr. and Mrs. Chang…reaffirming their marriage in the kitchen that morning. Everyone had been so embarrassed, and over Tina’s constant string of giggles Mike offered an apology in the form of a day off from cleaning.

“No sir, I belong solely to you today.”

Kurt grinned deviously from his bed. “Hmm. I guess that means I’ll have to find extra work for you…” He reached out to touch Blaine’s arm but the valet jumped away at the touch.

“I fear we don’t have time for that, sir. We’ve gone over this.”

“Blaine…Blaine…Breakfast doesn’t start for a good hour, or have you overlooked the fact that you’re quite early today?” The shorter man turned with a gasp to notice the hands of the clock had not quite reached the numeral six.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir! My mind is not where it should be this morning; I’ll do my best to make it up to you.”

Kurt’s grinned widened. “Come closer and I might be able to summon a solution.”

Blaine could see the now familiar fire glowing in his charge’s eyes and he couldn’t help but let a small smirk crack his attempt at a cool exterior.

“I hardly see how my proximity to you would affect your ability to conjure ideas.”

Kurt stood up so suddenly Blaine almost jumped. Before he knew what was happening, the taller man inches away from his face. Kurt leaned in to kiss him and Blaine closed his eyes in anticipation.

“You’re no fun, Mr. Anderson.”   Kurt whispered, his lips barely brushing against Blaine’s

Blaine’s eyelids fluttered open to reveal the other man’s smirk. “And I suppose being frivolous and ridiculous is a better option?”

“I like to think of myself as a romantic.”

“A romantic would’ve kissed me by now.”

“No, romantics live for the anticipation, the suspense.”

“I suppose you’re an expert in romance now.”

 Kurt paused and gazed silently into the hazel eyes below him. He kept their mouths apart as he brushed the back of his hand at a painstakingly slow pace down the side of Blaine’s torso. He then snaked the palm of his hand along Blaine’s hips and cupped his valet’s growing erection in his pale hand.

“I suppose.”

Blaine let a tiny breath of air escape his lips and he ignored the cries from his very instinct to throw Kurt on the bed.                                                                                                   

“Now, Mr. Anderson, I haven’t the slightest clue as to what has occurred to make you so….” Kurt dragged his thumb up Blaine’s length and felt the head twitch beneath his feather-light touch “…reserved. But, if you wish to make up your error in the way that I expect you to, you’re going to have to… loosen up.”

Kurt tugged gently at the precisely tied bowtie at his servant’s neck, loosening it enough so it hung crookedly.

Blaine was painfully hard against his zipper now, he could feel the pre-cum building, but he was determined to win whatever weird twisted battle they were fighting. He raised his shaking hands and fixed his bowtie.

“In instances such as this, it’s preferable for the apology to be carried out with order. It needs to be crisp. Perfect. Tight.” On the last word Blaine raised his hands and firmly gripped Kurt’s ass.

Kurt swallowed hard, but while he could feel his own erection growing, Blaine was still much harder beneath his grip.

“Careful now, Mr. Anderson, we wouldn’t want you arriving early twice in the same morning.”

Blaine kept his grip firm and moved forward just enough so the tip of the tent in his trousers was on Kurt’s thigh.

“You should be the one treading carefully sir, for I fear stubbornness is one of the worst attributes a gentleman can have.”

Kurt’s expression immediately changed into something unrecognizable. He turned his gaze downward and followed the patterns his own fingers were performing. He opened his mouth as if to say something, stopped and re-wet his lips with a quick slip of his very pink tongue. When he finally reinstated the gaze, his eyes were darker than Blaine had ever seen them. He was about to finally give in when Kurt spoke.

“If I recall correctly Anderson, my being a gentleman doesn’t matter to you in the slightest.”

Before he knew what was happening, Kurt jerked Blaine around and threw him onto the bed. The second his body hit the mattress Kurt was on top of him.

Some animalistic instinct in Kurt that had been dormant for two decades was suddenly in control. Lips met in a way they never had before, conquering and prepared for battle. Clothes were discarded in a cacophony of rips and tears, but for once in his life Kurt didn’t care. He was filled with this need; his new sole purpose in life was to show Blaine he was more than a silly, hopelessly romantic virgin.

The valet writhed underneath his charge, aroused to the point of pain, but the relief he craved did not come when Kurt swept away his underwear.

“Stubborn, you said? My dear Anderson, you have hardly seen stubborn. You wish to correct your ways? Very good. Since you failed to follow my orders the first time, try to follow this one….” Kurt rose up and sucked Blaine’s right nipple into a hard little point, a wicked smile on his face.

“…You can’t let go until I say you can.”

Blaine groaned, naturally Kurt giving the command had made following it that much more difficult.

“Now, let’s have some fun, shall we?”

Kurt repositioned himself in front of Blaine’s cock, and made sure to maintain eye contact as he flicked his tongue around the base. Blaine cried out and thrust upwards.

“Oh, oh, not yet, not yet, but your enthusiasm is truly flattering. Now…let’s see.”

Blaine lay there, desperately trying to maintain control as Kurt continued to lick and kiss and taste. Blaine could already see the purple and red coats of the young lord’s mouth come to life all over his body.

“My, my, Anderson, you certainly are obedient… such a good quality to have in a valet…- Kiss me.”

Blaine followed the order semi-consciously and moaned against Kurt’s swollen lips. This was a side Kurt that was completely unexpected; perhaps it came from the ruling blood that ran through his veins or he contained a genetic deferment to submissiveness. Whatever the case, it was easily one of the most erotic things Blaine had ever witnessed or imagined.

Kurt broke the kiss and started a hungry line back downwards. He mouthed his way up Blaine’s scrotum and sucked violently at the head.

“K-Kurt-!”

It came as a mangled involuntary cry, Blaine was barely containing himself at this point, and it had slipped out.

Kurt pulled off suddenly, looking horrified, all traces of the animal gone.

“Blaine…oh my god. I’m so sorry, I don’t know what-“

“Can…Can?”

“Yes, oh Blaine- I’m so sorry. Here, let me help you.” Kurt’s voice sounded like he was trying to hold back a sob as he wrapped his fist around Blaine and unnecessarily stroked. The second Kurt touched him Blaine let go into an orgasm so intense he whited out. When he hazily drifted back into reality, he became aware of a hysteric Kurt stroking his hair.

“I..I don’t know what happened, one moment we’re joking about and the next I’m sadistically denying you pleasure. Oh god Blaine. I am so, so sorry…”

“Kurt..”

“Don’t try to justify it! I was horrid, awful! I bet he did stuff like this all the time didn’t he? Taking advantage of you and your position like that…” Kurt rose so his torso was straight up, and he was gesturing madly with his svelte hands.

“Kurt…listen…”

“I should be locked up! Thrown away! Exorcised! I’m a monster, a bloody-“

With the last little bit of strength he had left, Blaine had pulled Kurt down to silence him with a lazy yet heated kiss.

“If you’d just shut up and stop being totally self-absorbed for possibly two minutes, you might realize that I rather enjoyed what you just did.”

Kurt quizzically looked down at the valet and his one loose curl “…you did?”

“I did. And for the record no, Wesley never did anything like that. It would’ve been far too good for me for him to bother with.”

Kurt looked at Blaine in awe and shock and a little bit of the emotion both of them were too afraid to mention.

“You liked it.”

“I really liked it.”

“And you’re not going to run away screaming my horrible deeds to the world?

“If I were going to do anything of that sort it would’ve been when you stopped midway to make me clean your damn shirt, not from something that satisfied me in the way that did.”

Kurt laughed, sprung up and pressed a sweet kiss to Blaine’s lips. “I suppose we ought to get prepared for breakfast now.”

“I suppose.”

Blaine waiting until Kurt was off the bed before he made his move. The young lord was standing at the one of the bottom corners of the four-poster, trying to locate his undergarments, when his valet appeared on his knees. Blaine took Kurt’s semi-hard cock in his skillful mouth and began to suck. He swirled his tongue in new patterns and slowly, too slowly, gained inch my inch. When Blaine had succeeded in having all of Kurt, he moved his tongue in an up and down, up and down zig-zag pattern. He moaned around Kurt, and the young lord sunk down onto the floor into a somewhat sitting position. Blaine was now crouching over him, sending jolts of pleasure through him. Kurt wasn’t even bothering to keep pace; he was too wrapped up in how good it felt. He came without warning even to him, but Blaine swallowed effortlessly, making Kurt peak higher than he ever had before. 

He sat there, slumped against his bed, stated and completely spent, but he could hear Blaine rummaging around behind him. When Kurt finally stood up, the valet was fully dressed in amazingly un-ripped clothing (Kurt’s pajamas however were not as lucky.) and holding out a red suit to Kurt with a dazzling smile.

“Well, don’t just stand there sir, it’s time to seize the day.”

“I thought that’s what we’ve been doing.”