Jan. 5, 2012, 4:18 p.m.
Caged Bird Singing: 04- Revelation
E - Words: 2,263 - Last Updated: Jan 05, 2012 Story: Closed - Chapters: 13/? - Created: Dec 12, 2011 - Updated: Jan 05, 2012 1,400 0 0 0 0
“You know, once my mother left dishes over night to soak, and when she went to do them in the morning, she found a drowned mouse.” Blaine came up behind him and coaxed his hands gently out of the soapy water, covering them with a dishtowel.
“My house is devoid of rodents. I promise.” He kissed his shoulder quickly, and then moved away. “Dry off and then come on over.” He said, grabbing something off the table. Kurt smiled, rolling his eyes a little, but folded the dishtowel over the bar on the stove after his hands were dry, and went to Blaine. It hit him with sudden force that although he felt completely at ease here, everything felt different. Like he was living in a house that he’d never seen.
He didn’t tell Blaine this. Instead, he walked over to him, and Blaine twinkled a smile at him.
“Good boy.” He said, with the tiniest lift of his eyebrow- the faintest suggestion of power that made Kurt swoon. He put his hands on Kurt’s hips and used the leverage to draw him in closer, kiss him firmly. “You still up for a quiet night?” Kurt grinned at the thought.
“Yes.” He answered, and Blaine smiled, and kissed him once more, before whispering a command.
“Open.” Kurt obeyed, dropping his jaw as wide as was comfortable, and Blaine licked into his mouth, left to right, making him jump- but he held the position. Blaine watched, and smiled as he lifted the ball gag and fitted it gently into his mouth.
“You are amazing, you know that?” He asked conversationally, securing his the gag into place and then licking into Kurt’s mouth again- this time, his tongue only passed along the rubber.
Kurt felt an eyebrow lift in a typical ‘really, bitch?’ look.
“Oh, calm down, honey.” Blaine said, running his fingers over the sarcastic brow lift, and chuckling. “Settle your forehead. I know you like it. And in case you forgot, I can call you amazing whenever I damn well please.” He laced his fingers into Kurt’s and pulled him into a room with a couch, which he sat on, pulling Kurt down with him, and a throw blanket over the two of them as Kurt snuggled into his chest.
He handed Kurt something- a book. And he flipped one of his own open, and started to read with one hand, the other stroking Kurt’s hair absentmindedly.
Kurt opened the book of his own, enjoying Blaine’s touch, and read a few pages. The plot was generic, the first chapter boring, so at length, he put the book on the floor and laid his head on Blaine’s chest, closing his eyes, and focusing on his lover’s light touch.
And this time, when Kurt opened his eyes to the darkness of his empty apartment, the sheets were dry and clean, and he thought briefly that this scared him more than if he’d had another dream in which Blaine ravished him. He rolled over and sank back into his pillows.
***
There was a knock at the door.
Kurt squeezed his eyes shut. Rays of sunlight had been stabbing at them for the past few minutes, but he’d tried to stay in the warmth of sleep. But he had to get up as the knocking got more insistent. He stretched and checked- yes, he was dressed, and ran a hand through his hair as he dragged himself through his apartment, and squinted through the peephole. Tina was wiggling her fingers, waving from the other side of the door. He smiled softly, and opened the door.
Tina barreled through it, and swung her arms around Kurt’s neck, hugging him tight. Kurt chuckled, surprised, and reached around to shut the door, before returning the hug.
“What’s this about?”
“You better have some champagne, bitch.” Tina said, sounding overjoyed.
“Honey, its eleven am on a Saturday.” He said, taking her wrists and unlocking them from around his neck and held them between them. “Why on earth-?” At that moment, Tina wiggled her left hand.
A ring sparkled there.
“Oh my god!” Kurt said, laughing in shock.
“I know!” Tina was practically vibrating with excitement.
“Okay, okay. I’m getting alcohol and you are telling me everything.” Kurt used the leverage on her hands to steer her towards the sofa. She nodded, excited, and Kurt hurried to the kitchen, opening his fridge and finding no champagne. He grabbed two wine coolers and joined her on the couch again, and she grabbed one and laughed.
“Classy.” She popped her wine cooler- hers was ‘Loco-Lime’- and sipped at it. She made a face. “This is disgusting.”
“So is “Radical Razzberry.” Kurt said, laughing. “This reminds me of the Trainwreck Extravaganza. Remember?” Tina joined his laughter, and put her drink on the ground. “Okay. Enough reminiscing. Spill.” He said, watching his friend, who seemed to glow. Tina spoke eagerly, illustrating with her hands.
“So during the night, he must have snuck the ring on, and this morning he woke me up with crepes and strawberries and this compote and chocolate. I thought there was nothing unusual about it, because he always likes to spring little surprises on me. I should have seen it coming in retrospect, because it so much fancier- normally he does normal napkins, but there were red cloth ones this time, and a rose, and everything. But I didn’t notice at all, and he was laughing at me and feeding me strawberries and waiting for me to get it. And after a while he just grabbed my hand and kissed the ring on it. And I gasped, and was stuttering and I couldn’t believe it and then he made the cutest little speech and of course I said yes. And it was so perfect, Kurt. He’s so perfect!” Kurt nodded and awwed in all the right places, sipping at his raspberry concoction. He pictured the man- tall, with sandy caramel hair, wide green eyes, and an honest face. He remembered how he had been annoyed by Leon the first time they’d met. To be fair, he was annoyed by most doms- and then he had seen the way he kissed Tina’s hair whenever he got the opportunity, the way he situated himself at all times so that she was comfortable.
“Tina?” He asked, quiet.
“Yeah, honey?”
“Does he… does he worship you?” Kurt asked, feeling very, very small. Tina grinned and nodded happily.
“Of course he does.” Kurt smiled softly.
“I guess that’s good enough for me.” He bit his lip, a little, thinking about it. “Can I ask you…?”
“Anything, Kurt.”
“What does your collar say?” Tina looked at him curiously.
“You don’t know? You’ve never looked?” Kurt gave her a look that read ‘you-know-how-I-am’ and she nodded, fishing it out from under the collar of her sweater. “It’s kind of a joke about my sweet tooth.” Kurt nodded, and looked at the collar.
It was what looked to be a silver band running around her neck, engraved with two words in elegant script.
Sweet Girl.
“That’s…. that’s beautiful.” Tina cocked her head and wrinkled her nose.
“You… you changed your tune.” She looked at him, seeming happy but confused.
“Maybe I’m just hearing a different melody.” He mused.
“Anything to do with a certain actor? I know he can carry a tune.” She said, wiggling her eyebrows and leaning in.
“No, honey, it’s your day.” Kurt waived her away, and she grinned at him.
“Good. Because I want to ask you to be my best man.” Kurt awwed again, and leaned over to hug the girl, who seemed healthy and whole and warm in his arms.
He laughed and nodded against her shoulder before asking questions about dates and color schemes. She wanted a winter wedding, and soon. Leon had dithered about the date, but had seen it made her happy, and consented, giving the great idea of mint green for a color scheme and maybe doing it sometime in early March when snow would still be on the ground, and Kurt was surprised when he agreed.
So maybe the melody was different. Or maybe he was getting better reception.
***
Dear Dad-
It’s been a long, cold September. I know you’re thinking it’s just me being dramatic, but it really has been. Unseasonably cold. Pea coat weather, as we in the industry say. So thank Carol for me, for sending along the pies, even though they’ll go straight to my hips. I want to know more than anything what she uses to cut the sweetness of the pecan. I’ve met gourmets who don’t do it better than she does.
So the big news around here is that Tina is getting married! To Leon! Isn’t that sweet? I’m proudly her best man. It makes me feel a bit old, though (I know, preaching to the choir, yeah?), what with people getting married. Like I should be doing something permanent with my life. Like I should be making big, rest of my life kinds of decisions. And even in this I’m worry about wanting that too much, about making decisions to soon just because I want to make decisions. I mean, as old as I feel, I’m just 25. So what does that mean about the choices I make?
I’m not making much sense now, I realize. Full disclosure, then. I met a boy. He’s beautiful, and he’s sweet, and he wants me. And I was nothing but cold to him, whereas with Maxwell, I had on this… fa�ade. I just… I can’t trust him. Not yet. Not after all- well, y’know. But I want to trust him. I feel that thing they talk about in movies where you meet something and you just know.
I know what you’re going to say. Talk to Carol. Maybe I will.
Maybe this would be good for me, though. Maybe this is what I need. It’s just hard when I don’t even know what “this” is.
I’ve been very busy- it’s getting to be time for the fall award shows and everyone wants consultations. I’m sure you’re similarly busy at the tire shop, eh? If maybe for different reasons? I should tell you that I was able to change the oil on one of our limos in a pinch the other day, and thought of you. Not to mention any time that I dig into one of those pies.
See you soon, Papa.
-Kurt.
He pressed send, and then closed his laptop, scrubbing his face with his hands and getting up, turning off the light in his living room and going into the his bedroom. He tried to count the days it had been since Blaine had kissed him and offered him everything, it hadn’t been very long ago. Today was Wednesday, and Blaine had been skyping with Tina the past few days. He had explained his reasoning in an email.
‘I’ll miss you keeping me in style- okay, I’ll miss you more than anything. But I don’t want to pressure you. And I think if we continued the video chats I might not be able to prevent myself from flat out begging you to be mine. So, in one last attempt for dignity, I can work with Tee until you have an answer for me.’
Blaine had been calling her Tee since the first time he’d had to come to the office to be dressed for a special event.
Now Kurt heard his voice, joking with Tina, from the other side of her laptop, and wanting unreasonably to see his face.
At some point in every conversation, Tina would look from Kurt to Blaine, and shake her head a little bit.
“You boys are both pining.” She would say.
Kurt shook himself out of his reverie, and stripped down, getting ready to put on his pajamas- and then he caught sight of himself in the mirror.
He was the same as he’d always been- slim, tall, and too pale for his own good- he turned to face himself now, wearing only discreet black briefs, in the full length mirror propped up next to his closet.
How was he ever going to be a good sub if he wasn’t comfortable looking at himself in this way? He couldn’t be beautiful marred with goosebumps, afraid, couldn’t be beautiful showing the faintest of scars from lashings that were years and years healed over. Couldn’t be beautiful for Blaine at all.
He slid onto his knees, and let out a shaking breath.
But Blaine had loved him even when Kurt was a total bitch to him. Blaine never seemed to care how grumpy he was for their morning conversations, or if he shoved him into place while he was dressing him. Blaine seemed to enjoy Kurt when he was feeling particularly rambunctious.
So maybe he didn’t need to be beautiful. Maybe he just had to be this.
He laid his hands on his thighs, palms facing up, and imagined them trussed. He looked into his own eyes in the mirror, and then looked away again.
Maybe being this wasn’t so bad.
He could almost feel the rope, almost enjoy Blaine near him, and the fact that all he needed to do was please him, and he would be taken care of. He wouldn’t have to worry about work, or about Maxwell, or about home where he could see his father’s worry that he was cold and distant and soulless, so hell bent on being his own person that he didn’t belong anywhere.
He shivered, and felt the blood rushing down to his legs, bent under him, and flexed his feet to keep them from falling asleep. He was going to have to get used to this.
As soon as that thought occurred to him, he was up and getting dressed. He needed to get to Blaine.