“Kurt?”

“Hmmmm?”

Blaine stopped halfway through untying his bow tie and leaned across the couch to rest his head on Kurt's shoulder. “You looked amazing tonight.”

Kurt shifted and pulled Blaine back against his chest. “I had to go all out. It's not every night I attend my soulmate's Broadway debut.”

“Off-Broadway.”

“Broadway, off-Broadway, what really matters is the smoke that came out of Rachel's ears when she realized you got there before she did.”

Blaine laughed. He finished with his tie and unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket, but he was too comfortable in Kurt's arms to move enough to take either of them off.

“It was just dumb luck, really. And it's only a little part.”

“You were wonderful,” Kurt said.

“Were you really okay with it?”

Kurt's silence was all the answer Blaine needed. He twisted around to stare into Kurt's eyes. They were stormy gray in the low light.

“It's a play, Kurt. You know . . . I know you know you're the only person in the world I'll ever want to get on my knees for. You've acted enough to know that it's all just pretend.”

Kurt didn't respond. His fingers worried at the loose ends of Blaine's tie.

Blaine knew what to do. He pushed himself up off the couch, ignoring Kurt's “Where are you going?” He made his way into the bedroom and pulled open the bottom drawer of their big oak dresser. When he got back to the living room he dropped the purple satin pouch and its clanking contents in Kurt's lap.

“What's that for?” Kurt asked.

“Put it on me.”

“Blaine . . .” There was a note of reproach in Kurt's voice, but Blaine could see the color of his eyes starting to shift; the clouds were already whisping away.

“I want you to. Lock me up.” Blaine picked the pouch up again and pressed it into Kurt's hand, then straddled Kurt's lap and wrapped his arms around his neck. “Lock me up for the whole run. And then you'll know how much I'm aching for you – only you – even when I'm up there on my knees.”

“It's a three month run, Blaine.” Kurt's protest was so obviously token Blaine had to suppress a laugh. The azure taking over his eyes completely betrayed him.

“You've been wanting to push me longer, I know you have. And whenever you feel like you need to . . .” Blaine sought carefully for the right phrasing, “. . . remind us both of who owns me, you can take it off and torture me until balance is restored once more.”

“What if it shows? Your costumes . . .”

“Please. Half the subs in the show are already in chastity. I'm sure they all assume I am too. After all, I belong to a very demanding dominant.”

Blaine could feel Kurt's cock thickening against his own. He rolled his hips across Kurt's lap and bent down to trace Kurt's ear with his tongue. “Imagine,” he whispered, “how much better all my sobbing and begging and oh please masters are going to make you feel.”

A hand tangled in Blaine's hair and tugged him away from where he was nibbling Kurt's neck. Kurt stared at him with eyes that were so close to the right color.

“I'm starting to feel better already.”

“And don't forget, if everything goes well there's always the chance that they could extend.”

Blaine had just enough time, before he was dropped to the side and pressed into the couch by eager hands that fumbled at his fly, to see Kurt's eyes flash the exact perfect shade of heart-melting blue that meant balance had indeed been restored once more.