Before today, Kurt had never really paid much attention to his front door. It was just a door, much like every other door on the block, dark wood, decorative, bas-relief panels, and little windows near the top. But standing in front of the door that morning with Blaine’s sweaty hand clutched in his, the concept of “threshold” had never been so clear to him. On this side of the door he and Blaine were still safely anonymous. There was no one who could judge them or make assumptions. As far as anyone else was concerned Kurt was just a recently-marked kid struggling to adjust to his new dom emotions and hormones and Blaine was just a hot substitute teacher who would never consider doing anything improper with one of his students.

But once they passed through that door everything changed. Inside Kurt’s house they would no longer be their own little secret. People would know. Just two people, but the most important two people outside of Kurt & Blaine themselves. Kurt felt like they were about to walk into a spotlight to be judged. Once they crossed that threshold there was no going back.

“I know this was my idea, but we can still change our minds about it,” he said, staring at the door like he was waiting for it to tell him what to do.

Blaine pulled at his hand to make Kurt look at him. “What are you afraid of? Specifically,” he asked.

Kurt scanned Blaine’s face, but though he definitely looked nervous, he didn’t seem like he was about to bolt. “I’m worried that if my dad gets upset or judges you because of the age thing you’ll . . . back off. Try to pull away from me again.”

Kurt was kind of happy to see how offended Blaine looked at that. “I’m not going to pull away, okay?” he said, shaking his head. “God, not after yesterday. Yesterday I accepted your punishment and your control and this morning I accepted this,” he let go of Kurt’s hand so he could hold up his arm encircled by Kurt’s black cuff. “What does this mean?” he said in a teasing voice.

Kurt smiled sheepishly as Blaine parroted his own words back at him. “It means you’re mine.”

“I’m yours. And being yours is already making me happier than I’ve ever been. It doesn’t matter what your dad says. I mean, it matters, because he’s your dad but no matter what he says, I’m not going to run. We’re us now. Whatever happens, we handle it together.”

Kurt smiled for real this time. Oh, yes, Blaine was so getting the world’s most amazing orgasm as soon as they got home. He smiled even wider at the thought of Blaine’s apartment as “home.” “Okay,” he said with a deep breath. “Let’s do this.” He took Blaine’s hand back in his and opened the door before he could change his mind.

There wasn’t anyone in the living room, and Kurt could hear muted voices coming from the kitchen as he and Blaine took off their jackets and hung them on the tree in the corner. When the door closed with a bang his dad’s voice called out, “Kurt? Is that you? Get in here and tell your stepmother that I’m not going to drop dead if she uses real eggs in the French toast!”

Kurt’s heart was racing but he pulled Blaine resolutely toward the bright kitchen.

“I eat rabbit pellets for breakfast every other day of the week, I don’t think it’s too much to ask for one real meal,” Burt was telling his wife. “KUR . . . Oh.” He had turned to yell again but was cut off by the sight of Kurt and Blaine standing side-by-side in the doorway. Despite his reassuring words at the door, Kurt could feel Blaine stiffen under his dad’s gaze.

When Burt cut off Carole turned too, a loaf of bread in her hand. “Oh. Hello,” she said lightly.

Kurt tried to smile. “Dad, Carole, this is Blaine.”

His dad’s gaze took in their faces, then swept down to where their hands were joined, Blaine’s black-cuffed right one in Kurt’s left. Kurt pulled Blaine a few steps into the room, giving his dad what he hoped was a “please just let me explain before you spontaneously combust” look.

Carole looked from the boys to Burt then put the loaf of bread she was holding down on the counter and crossed the room, grabbing a tea towel to wipe her hands. “It’s very nice to meet you, Blaine,” she said, holding out her hand.

Kurt clutched at Blaine; he was suddenly afraid that something terrible would happen if they let go of each other. But Blaine was much too well-mannered to ignore Carole’s proffered handshake. “Thank you, Mrs. Hummel,” he said as he took it.

“Oh, it’s Hudson, honey. I didn’t change my name.”

Blaine shot Kurt a reproving look, as if he felt Kurt should have informed him of this in advance. But when Carole dropped his hand he clutched blindly back for Kurt’s.
Burt was still staring silently at their wrists, and clouds were building in his expression that Kurt knew meant trouble. Carole intervened again. “So how do you know Kurt, Blaine?”

Kurt and Blaine began to speak at the same time.

“Well, I . . .”

“Blaine was . . .”

But Burt’s voice drowned them both out. “Kurt. Can I see you in the living room?”

Blaine shot Kurt a panicked look but Carole gave him her biggest, most genuine smile. “Go ahead, Kurt. Blaine can help me put the casserole together and then we’ll bring you both some coffee.”

Kurt smiled gratefully at her and followed his dad, who’d pushed past him to make his way to the front room. They’d barely moved out of earshot when Burt turned on him.

“What the hell are you doing, Kurt?”

Kurt winced at the volume of Burt’s voice. “Dad! They’ll hear you.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass who hears me and believe me you’ve got much bigger things to worry about! Talk.”

“Maybe you’d better sit down . . .” Kurt began.

“I am not going to sit down. And I’m getting a little tired of everyone in this family treating me like I’ve got one foot in the grave! You need to explain yourself right now.”

“Okay, I know he’s older . . .”

Burt gasped out a kind of bitter laugh. “Yeah, that’s the second thing we’re going to talk about.”

“Second?”

“He’s got a black cuff, Kurt. What the hell are you doing messing around with a claimed sub?!”

Kurt was genuinely stunned by that. And when he got over stunned he felt even more hurt. It hadn’t even occurred to his dad that maybe the cuff was his? “Do you seriously think I would do something like that? It’s my cuff, Dad. I claimed him. He’s my soulmate.”

Burt sat down.

He stared up at Kurt with such an expression of astonishment that Kurt’s hurt was now giving way to anger. “Come on, Dad. I thought you were the one person who actually believed that I’m a dom.”

Burt’s expression cleared and he pointed a finger at his son. “Hey. Don’t do that. You know that’s not what this is about.”

“I can see it on your face. You can’t believe I actually claimed a sub.”

“Are you kidding me?” Burt’s voice rose and Kurt tried to shush him again. The last thing he needed was for Blaine to hear any of this. “You think I don’t want you to be happy? But I’m not gonna lie to you, Kurt. And I’m not gonna pretend to be thrilled that your soulmate is . . . how old is he anyway?”

“Blaine is twenty-seven.”

Burt sighed and rubbed a hand across his forehead. “And how did you meet Blaine?”

This was even harder to admit. “He’s substituting for my history teacher.”

Burt pinned Kurt with a significant look. “The one who got fired for fooling around with that Karofsky kid?”

Really, he’d been stupid to think that he’d be able to make his dad understand. And if he couldn’t expect his own family to be on their side then what could they expect from the rest of the world? Kurt shook his head and started to pace toward the kitchen. “Okay, this was a mistake. I thought that you of all people would be able to put your prejudice aside and just be happy for me. But I guess I was wrong. So Blaine and I are just going to . . .”

“Kurt!” Burt’s voice stopped Kurt in his tracks and he turned back to his dad. “Put your butt on that sofa and quit putting words in my mouth.” He watched silently while Kurt considered, then went to sit on the end of the sofa. When he spoke again his voice was back to a normal volume.

“Look, you got dealt a crappy hand, Kurt. You lost your mom, you had to deal with being gay in that cesspool of a school, and when you got marked as a dom I thought you finally caught a break.” Burt leaned forward to emphasize his words. “I was so happy for you. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a sub, but I know you Kurt. You were born a dom. And I was so relieved that fate or the universe or whatever saw you for who you are and not the box people try to put you in.” He took a slow breath. “But this, Kurt? You know what people are gonna think. What they’re gonna say. It feels to me like you’re going from the frying pan to the fire and sue me; I just want being with your soulmate to be a joy for you.”

Kurt scooted forward himself. He wanted so much to make his father understand. “But it is a joy, Dad. Blaine is amazing. If you look, you’ll see that.”

“And how does he feel about this? Submitting to you?”

Much as he wanted to paint a perfect picture, Kurt had promised himself he’d be honest with his dad. “He was freaked out at first,” he admitted. “Obviously, the age thing and I don’t think he thought I’d be able to dominate him. But last night I . . . well, we had kind of a breakthrough. Last night.”

“So the whole Rachel thing was a lie, then.”

Kurt bit his lip. “I didn’t want to lie to you. But things got really – intense – and I couldn’t leave him. I was being responsible,” he insisted.

Burt shook his head. “To your sub, maybe, but what about your family?”

Kurt shrugged a little. “My sub comes first now.”

“You could have told us the truth.”

“Come on, Dad. What would you have said if I told you I was spending the night with a guy you’d never met, soulmate or not? I needed to be taking care of Blaine, not arguing with you.”

Kurt could see his dad struggling with all of this. He could tell the dom in Burt wanted to be proud of his son for doing what had to be done, but the dad in him wanted to berate him for being irresponsible. He sat up straight and tried his best to look like a dom doing what was best for his sub instead of a teenager in trouble for breaking curfew.

Burt eyed him for a minute and then went straight for the big guns. “And what about sex? He’s got to be more – experienced – than you.”

Meeting his dad dom to dom was hard when he started blushing. “Of course he is, but we worked all that out.”

“How, exactly, did you work it out?” Burt asked.

“Oh my God, Dad, I’m not giving you details. I’m the dom. I decide what we do.”

“And he doesn’t pressure you?”

Kurt dropped his head in his hands and couldn’t hold back a noise of frustration.

“Okay,” Burt said, “I get it. You’re the dom.”

When Kurt looked up again, his dad didn’t look angry or frustrated any more. He looked sad. “God Kurt, you’re sixteen. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

Kurt shrugged again. “It doesn’t matter if I’m ready or not. I’ve got it. But everyone keeps telling me you meet your soulmate when the time is right, so I must be more ready than we think.”

Burt just shook his head and sighed. “Well, I’m sure as hell not ready.”

“Is it safe to come in?” Carole poked her head out the kitchen door, looking like she was trying to assess the damage. Burt waved her forward.

“Come on. I might as well get to know my son’s new highest priority.”

Carole entered, carrying the good silver sugar bowl and creamer and followed by Blaine, bearing a tray with four cups of steaming coffee. He looked much more relaxed, and Kurt smiled gratefully at Carole. He held out his hand to Blaine who set the tray on the coffee table and settled next to him on the sofa. They exchanged a look, both evaluating the other for wounds, and Blaine must have found Kurt as undamaged as Kurt found him because he smiled and squeezed Kurt’s hand.

“Blaine is very handy in the kitchen,” Carole said as she settled herself on the other armchair. “You’d better watch your back, Kurt. He might give you a run for your money.”

Burt and Blaine snorted simultaneously and Kurt felt like he’d never loved Carole more than at that moment. There was silence while everyone fixed their coffee, then Burt and Blaine both spoke at once.

“Mr. Hummel, I . . .”

“So Blaine . . .”

Blaine sat back and lowered his eyes. Kurt knew he was doing it in deference to his dad, but he found he didn’t much like Blaine showing submission to someone else, even his father.

“So Kurt tells me you’ve had some trouble submitting to him.”

“Dad!” Kurt all but yelled. He was a dom in a soulmate claim but still his dad could mortify him with a sentence.

“That’s true, Sir.” Blaine didn’t seem fazed at all. “I’m sure you can imagine how difficult it was for me to find out my soulmate was a student. I underestimated him pretty severely.” Blaine blushed a little, and Kurt did too remembering how he’d punished Blaine that morning for that underestimation. Burt’s sharp gaze moved back and forth between them because, of course his dad would never miss something like that.

“And now?” he asked.

“Now I know that fate was right. I need him. I can’t be without him. And I get that this is kind of . . . different and whatever rules you want to make I’ll obey, of course. I just need him.”

Kurt disliked hearing Blaine promise to obey his dad even more than he’d disliked the show of submission.

“Okay,” Burt nodded, “well the first thing is – I’m gonna need to see your mark.”

Blaine nodded and began to unfasten the silver buckle.

“No,” Kurt said sharply.

Blaine turned a confused look on Kurt. He held his arm out tentatively, obviously assuming that Kurt meant he’d undo the cuff. Kurt ignored it. “He’s not showing you his mark,” he told his dad calmly.

“Kurt, he’s twenty-seven and your teacher. You’re asking me to take an awful lot on faith here.”

“It’s okay, Kurt. I really don’t . . .”

“I said no,” Kurt told Blaine and immediately Blaine’s hands fell back into his lap and he lowered his eyes to look at them. Kurt hoped that while he was noticing things his dad wouldn’t miss Blaine’s perfect and immediate submission.

“It’s not a big deal, Kurt,” Burt reasoned. “If someone had needed to see my mark to prove – my claim or whatever, I’d have been happy to do it.”

“That’s different, Dad.”

“How is it different?”

Kurt couldn’t believe they were back to this. “God, do I have to rent a billboard?! You’re a dom. I’m the dom here, Dad. You could have shown your mark to a thousand people it still wouldn’t be the same. How many people would you have let Mom show her mark to?”

Burt didn’t seem to have an answer for this, he just stared at his son. Carole reached over and rubbed his arm gently.

“If people at school find out, God knows who I’ll have to let see Blaine’s mark. Principal Figgins, probably, and maybe people from the School Board or something. I’m not going to make him show it to my own father. I’ve seen it. You have to trust me. If you need to see a mark I’ll show you mine.”

They all sat in silence then, Kurt and Burt kind of staring each other down, and Kurt had the feeling Burt was evaluating this new person he was seeing in his son. Then he felt Blaine’s fingers touch his knee and he turned to look at his sub. Blaine’s eyes flickered down to his hand on Kurt’s knee and back again and Kurt realized with a flush of pride that Blaine was asking permission to speak. He was making a show of his submission for Burt’s sake. Kurt had to hold back a smug grin as he said “Go ahead.”

Blaine turned to Burt. “Mr. Hummel, when I first realized that Kurt was the Kurt Hummel on my wrist, I was just as upset as I’m sure you are. I completely freaked out. The first time we talked, to be honest, I was the one acting like a teenager and Kurt – it was like he’d been doing it forever. He had me on my knees inside five minutes.”

Kurt stared at Blaine. Was that how it had happened? Because all he remembered was feeling completely helpless. Then really angry. And then the kissing.

“I’ve only known him four days but I can already see that Kurt is the most kind, compassionate, caring person . . .”

“I know that,” Burt interrupted.

“But if you push him too hard he can come down like the hand of God.”

Burt couldn’t help chuckling at that. “Yep, I know that, too.”

“Sir, if Kurt allowed it I’d happily show you my mark. And I was the one who asked if we could keep our relationship secret at school, but if he really wanted me to I’d come out to everyone. I’d be scared, but I’d do it.” He held up his right arm and pushed his sleeve back so that the entirety of the black cuff was visible. “When I accepted this, I accepted that he’s in charge. I trust him to decide what’s best for us. And, even if I wanted to try to control him, I couldn’t. You raised quite a dominant, you know.”

“Well, we agree on that.” Kurt could see that his father was reevaluating Blaine. He thought he could see some cracks in Burt’s mask of disapproval.

A chime sounded from the kitchen and Carole jumped up immediately. “That’ll be the French toast, so I suggest we take this to the kitchen and take some time to actually get to know Blaine before we make too many judgments.” She gave Burt a pointed look and squeezed his shoulder as she made her way out of the room with complete confidence that the men would all follow her.

“And she’s supposed to be the sub,” Burt harrumphed.

Kurt couldn’t help smiling. Yep, the cracks were definitely showing. He stood up at the same time as his dad and tugged Blaine upright too. “Come on. I told you you don’t want to miss Carole’s French toast casserole.”

And true to her word, as they ate Carole quizzed Blaine about his family and ambitions, pointing out interesting items for Burt’s notice. She exclaimed over his academic achievements and tut-tutted about his many years of waiting to meet Kurt, bounced with excitement at learning who Blaine’s brother was and almost fainted when he promised to bring him over the next time Cooper came home for a visit. And somewhere between all that she managed to negotiate a treaty that would allow Kurt to spend his weekend nights with Blaine, as long as they promised they’d both come for Friday family dinners and that Kurt would be home by nine o’clock on Sunday.

The family dinners were actually the biggest sticking point, because Finn would be there and if there was anyone less capable of keeping a secret than Finn, Kurt had yet to meet them. He was pretty sure even Brittany could be trusted further than his stepbrother. But Carole promised to put the fear of God into him if he mentioned a word, even to Rachel, and Kurt figured that at the very least maybe he could get some good blackmail material from Finn’s computer to keep him in line.

Blaine was the epitome of deferent sub throughout the meal, answering every question put to him, offering platters and bowls and pitchers to Kurt, never interrupting and always shutting up the minute anyone talked over him. As grateful as Kurt was for it, he thought that Blaine had better get over it if it was going to become part of the Hudson/Hummel household.

Things went so well that Blaine felt comfortable enough to stay with Burt and Carole while Kurt went up to his room to change out of yesterday’s clothes. When he came back down Burt was waiting by the door and he could hear Carole in the kitchen giving Blaine instructions for reheating the leftover casserole she was packing up.

“I should probably be worried about those two getting so close, shouldn’t I?” he said with a rueful smile. “Now between the two of you I’m never going to hear the end of how great he is.”

Kurt smiled back and turned to grab their jackets from the coat tree. When he turned back his dad’s face was serious again.

“I can see it, you know,” Burt said.

“What?”

“You’ve changed. You’re not the same kid you were at dinner Friday night. In two days you grew up on me.”

“I kind of had to,” Kurt said.

“I know. I just . . .” Burt struggled for the right words. “Look, I know I’m not gay, but I am a dom, and if you ever need any help or have any trouble . . . well, I want you to know you can come to me. And I promise not to make any cracks about I told you so or whatever. I just want you to be happy, Kurt.”

“I am happy Dad,” Kurt said, pulling Burt into a hug, “And thank you.”

Burt wrapped his arms around his son, and if he held on longer than was strictly necessary, well, Kurt wasn’t going to complain about it.

Blaine and Carole came back then, smiling and chatting like old friends, and Kurt was sure Blaine’s eyes darkened in appreciation when he took in the form-fitting black turtleneck Kurt had chosen for the day. Yeah, they definitely needed to get home fast. They rushed through goodbyes and it was nice to meet yous (although Kurt took the time to enjoy the sight of his father shaking hands with his sub) and both of them breathed a sigh of relief when the front door closed behind them.

“We lived,” Blaine said.

“We lived,” Kurt repeated.

Kurt was so full of relief and happiness that he wanted to just push Blaine up against the car and kiss the crap out of him, but the passenger side was facing the house and he was sure his dad would be watching so he settled for a surreptitious caress of Blaine’s ass as he bent to secure Carole’s Tupperware container on the floor in front of his seat. Blaine picked up his mood right away and settled into his seat with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“So was I good?” he asked pointedly.

“You were so good. You were a very, very good boy today.” Kurt could see the desire flare in Blaine’s eyes. He practically ran around to the driver’s side and climbed in, with a little wave in the direction of the house. He was sure he saw a curtain flutter in response.

When they got into the apartment Blaine only lasted long enough to get the leftover casserole in the refrigerator before falling to his knees with such force that Kurt could hear the smack when they hit the floor. He turned from stripping off his jacket to find Blaine looking up at him with an expression that was already a little unfocused.

“You know I don’t expect you to kneel every time we walk through the door, right?” he said.

Blaine smiled and said in a quiet, soft voice, “Well, to be fair, yesterday I thought I was going to lose you and today you’re going to let me come after two days of teasing me. I’m sure on a normal day I’ll manage to resist the urge.” When Kurt didn’t answer, he held up his cuffed arm.

Kurt shook his head. “No way. I’ve been waiting all day to see you naked in that.” He remembered what Finn had said about orders. “I’m coming into the bedroom in two minutes and I expect to find you naked on your knees. And no clothes thrown around – put them where they belong.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Blaine wasn’t teasing him – Kurt could see he was already too far gone for that. The “Sir” had just come out and Kurt couldn’t deny that it sent a shiver through his body. “Go,” he commanded.

Blaine went.

With one eye on the clock above the piano Kurt went to the kitchen, found a glass and poured some water. He sipped it slowly for what seemed like the longest two minutes of his life, then set it on the counter and made his way to the bedroom. The sight that greeted him took his breath away.

It was just Blaine, of course, but really there was no such thing as “just” Blaine. Because Blaine was everything. And naked Blaine – kneeling on the floor in that submissive pose, sculpted body exposed and quivering ever so slightly, cock upright and twitching gently, right wrist encased in Kurt’s black leather – was like everything cubed.

He wanted to tell Blaine all that he was feeling. How he couldn’t believe that this was his life. How he’d never in a million years imagined that he would ever share his life with anyone so overwhelmingly beautiful, outside and in. How the sight of Blaine kneeling and naked and yearning for him, wearing nothing but the symbol of Kurt’s ownership, made him feel like he’d won the lottery, a Tony award, and free access to the Marc Jacob sample room all at the same time. How he was hard as a rock in his jeans and they hadn’t even touched each other yet.

But when he opened his mouth all that came out was “Oh my God.”

Blaine looked up, smiled, and held out his arm. “Now?” he asked.

“Now,” Kurt repeated. He unbuckled the black cuff and removed it, setting it on the night stand before offering his own wrist to Blaine. After he opened it, Blaine let his thumb caress gently over his name on Kurt’s wrist before handing the cuff to Kurt to place next to his by the bed.

But then it was awkward. The thought of just stripping off his own clothes while Blaine watched felt like too much. But he couldn’t exactly do this in jeans and a turtleneck, and he was too hard to stay in pants much longer. He could tell Blaine to undress him, but this was supposed to be a reward for Blaine. He didn’t want to make him work for it.

So Kurt fell back on his tried and true anti-awkwardness strategy. He knelt in front of Blaine, threaded his fingers through the dark curls behind his ear, pulled him close and kissed him hard and deep. Blaine submitted to the kiss, mouth open, tongue passive, hands still on his thighs. But a tiny whimper escaped from the back of his throat and his cock jumped so forcefully that Kurt felt it bump against his own belly.

“Get up on the bed,” he said as he pulled away from Blaine’s chasing lips. Blaine obeyed immediately, and on his way around to the other side Kurt stripped off his sweater and undershirt and deposited them on the dresser. He climbed onto the bed and kissed Blaine again and this time Blaine couldn’t seem to stop himself from trailing his hands up and down Kurt’s chest, fingers catching on Kurt’s nipples and making him gasp.

“Lie down,” Kurt whispered against Blaine’s lips.

They settled on their sides, still connected at the mouth, and Blaine immediately curled his body around Kurt’s like a drowning man clinging to a buoy. He threw one leg over Kurt’s hips and his hand slid along Kurt’s backbone as they continued to fall deeper into the soft, gentle heat of each other’s mouths.

And with Blaine in his arms, pumping his long-denied cock against the rough fabric or Kurt’s jeans, he couldn’t help wondering what would happen if he told Blaine he’d changed his mind. That he was going to make him wait one more day. He wouldn’t, of course, not now, but the mental picture of Blaine struggling to control his disappointment and desperation in perfect submission was enough to make Kurt grind back against Blaine even harder.

Blaine’s lips broke from Kurt’s and he threw his head back under the intensity of the press of harsh denim against his over-sensitive erection. “Kurt . . .” he gasped.

Kurt took advantage of the position to mouth down Blaine’s neck, sucking at the point of his Adam’s apple then further down to kiss the hollow at the base of Blaine’s throat.

“Kurt . . . please . . .” Blaine begged, and his fingers slid to the front of Kurt’s body to tug at the waistband of his pants. “I want to feel you . . .”

“Okay.”

Blaine had Kurt’s pants open in record time, moving to pull them down while Kurt wriggled his way out. Underwear followed and as soon as it cleared Kurt’s feet and fell forgotten to the floor with his jeans Blaine was back at his side, body curling tightly around his again and this time when he pressed in his cock met Kurt’s and even dry they thrust together in perfect, perfect rhythm. They were kissing again, and between the intimate slide of their tongues, the press of their hips, Blaine’s fingers gripping his ass to pull him closer, and Blaine’s breathy, needy moans against his lips, Kurt wanted to abandon all his plans and just grind mindlessly until they both came like this, wrapped around each other in a gasping, quivering heap.

But he had plans, damn it. He’d made a promise. He pulled his mouth away from Blaine’s (and it took superhuman effort to resist Blaine’s sharp cry of protest) and pressed a firm hand to Blaine’s chest. “Wait. Stop.”

Blaine froze, chest heaving and body trembling. “What’s wrong,” he asked.

Kurt smiled. “Nothing’s wrong, silly. But I promised you something and I don’t want this to end before I can deliver.”

Blaine’s eyes widened and a deep shudder shook his frame. With a little push from Kurt’s hand he fell onto his back on the mattress.

Kurt spread Blaine’s legs and knelt between them. Blaine’s golden eyes had gone almost completely black and he looked at Kurt like he was an angel sent to take Blaine to paradise.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” Kurt asked. “I mean, you can come, but not in my mouth. I’m really not ready for that.”

Blaine nodded. “I’ll tell you if I’m too close, I promise.”

Kurt took a breath and just stared at Blaine’s cock. He had no idea what he was doing, but he knew what Blaine had done to him had felt good, so he wet his lips and bent forward, pressing them to the base of Blaine’s shaft and dragging them, just his moist lips, up along Blaine’s length and over the head, then back down again. Blaine sucked in a ragged breath and exhaled a long moan.

“Fuck, Kurt. Oh my God . . .”

On the second trip Kurt pushed his tongue out to join his lips sliding up and over and back down again. The taste was amazing, he’d never really been able to imagine how someone’s cock could taste any different from their elbow or their chin or any other part of their body, but the warmth and strength and softness made his head spin. He kept the licking rhythm going for a while, enjoying Blaine’s moaning and cursing and the way his hips bucked gently upward despite his best efforts to control them.

Finally, Kurt raised his head to look at Blaine, whose eyes were closed now, head thrown back on the pillow, mouth slightly open. Kurt had heard people talk about the throes of ecstasy and he was pretty sure that was it. Blaine looked so completely vulnerable and the need to take care of him and fulfill him was so strong Kurt thought he could taste it right alongside the taste of Blaine’s flesh.

“You have to keep your butt on the bed now,” he said. Blaine could only nod frantically.

Kurt lowered his head again and this time let his mouth slide around the head of Blaine’s cock and slowly down the shaft, gripping it with his lips as he went, and he could have sworn he felt it get harder, like it was pushing back against the pressure of Kurt’s lips. He couldn’t take it very far – he’d have to work on that – but Blaine didn’t seem to mind if the noises he was making were anything to go by. Kurt sucked gently and slid his mouth up and down.

“Oh fuck, Kurt . . . I’m close . . . I need to come . . .”

Kurt pulled his mouth up and off and Blaine thrust violently into the air but he didn’t come and for this one time Kurt didn’t want to do anything to help him over. He stroked Blaine’s thigh gently and when his ass finally settled back on the bed he asked, “Can you take it one more time? Because I really want to do that some more.”

“I . . . I think so,” Blaine stammered.

So Kurt went back to work, taking Blaine’s cock back in his mouth, sucking, dragging, and letting his tongue dance around the head and under the ridge until Blaine was crying out sharply on each exhale, his body rigid with the force of his need.

“Please let me come . . . please God . . . I can’t . . . fuck . . .”

Kurt finally took pity on him, slipping off his cock and moving up the bed to pull Blaine back onto his side, wrapped around him in their original position. Blaine was still wet from Kurt’s mouth and the moisture was just enough to make the friction perfect. He began to rock against Kurt immediately and Kurt pushed back, whispering in Blaine’s ear, “Come for me now, whenever you can,” before capturing Blaine’s lips again in another demanding kiss.

Blaine’s hands grappled again at his ass, fingers slipping into the crack and Kurt could feel his own orgasm building, tensing his balls, even as Blaine began to chant, “So close . . . so close Kurt . . .” He wrapped his arms tighter around his sub, pushing into him as frantically as Blaine was pushing back, legs and cocks and tongues tangled up in each other and straining for release.

And then Blaine went perfectly still against Kurt’s thrusting body, for just a moment all his muscles relaxed and a sigh of “Kurt . . .” slipped past his lips. Then with a sharp cry he tensed, curling tight against Kurt’s body again and Kurt could feel him coming, shuddering, panting, crying out his pleasure, hands tightening on Kurt’s ass and it was that, Blaine’s desperate grip on his ass pulling Kurt even harder against his spasming cock, and the warm splash of semen against his overheated flesh, that finally sent Kurt over the edge as well and then they both were crying out, coming violently in each other’s arms.

When Kurt came back to his senses Blaine was still trembling through aftershocks of pleasure. He stroked down Blaine’s spine, trying to soothe him, planting little kisses on his lips until finally Blaine opened his eyes to look at Kurt and, God. If that look wasn’t love Kurt was very, very mistaken about what love would look like.

“Was that good?” Kurt asked gently.

“You have no idea.” Blaine nestled his head on Kurt’s chest, still gasping, settling in with that weighty press that Kurt was coming to associate with perfect contentment.

“Thank you . . . God.” Blaine whispered against his chest. “I waited . . . so long.”

Kurt chuckled. “I hate to burst your bubble, but I don’t really think two days is all that long.”

He felt Blaine’s head shake against his skin. “Not to come,” Blaine panted. “For you. Waited so long for you.”

They were dirty and sweaty and sticky with come that was almost certainly making its way down onto the bedding. Kurt couldn’t have cared less. At that moment, there was no mess in the universe that could have made him let go of Blaine.