Take Me Over
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Take Me Over: Chapter 13


E - Words: 4,586 - Last Updated: Mar 18, 2017
Story: Closed - Chapters: 55/? - Created: Sep 30, 2013 - Updated: Sep 30, 2013
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Author's Notes:

A/N: Warning for bondage, masturbation, fingering, rutting, and a small injury that bleeds. Also, I would like to mention a thank you to my Bokwa teacher, who inspired Kurt Hummel, the aerobic instructor of Blaine's dreams, and my husband, who inspired the bartender of my dreams...

Kurt came home to see Dave, dressed in a suit and tie, pacing the one narrow hall of the house. Dave drew Kurt into his embrace like he hadn't seen Kurt for years. Dave looked deep into Kurt's eyes, and he knew. He saw the change, the distance. Kurt squeezed Dave's arm and smiled, seemingly unaware that Dave's whole world had just begun to fall apart.

Kurt put the finishing touches on a rack of lamb before sticking in the oven when his cell phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and saw the picture he had taken of Blaine, his eyes closed, lips poised in a small, sweet smile. He answered the phone quickly.

"Hey!" Kurt sandwiched the phone between his head and his shoulder while he spoke. "How are you feeling?"

"Great." Blaine towel dried his hair.

"Yeah, well, just don't go jumping in the ocean. I'm pretty sure your back won't thank you."

Blaine didn't want to admit that was where he had just come from, and no, his back wasn't all too happy. But there was one good thing about it. It immediately reminded Blaine of Kurt...and he became incredibly turned on. A little salt in his wounds in exchange for a massive hard on. It seemed like a fair trade off.

"I'll remember that," Blaine said. "Look, you mentioned exercising. Do you happen to know of a gym around here?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow, an expression wasted on Blaine who couldn't see him.

"Well, I don't really know from gyms," Kurt commented. "And I don't live in Carlsbad."

"But, you said you teach a class." Blaine dropped his towel, lay out naked on his bed, closed his eyes and listened to the sing song lilt of his angel's voice.

"Yeah," Kurt confirmed. "Today, as a matter of fact. At the rec center downtown. It's kind of limited, but it has a weight room, and a boxing ring."

"Well, that sounds perfect." Blaine had an overwhelming urge to touch himself while he talked to Kurt, pumping himself slowly while he listened to Kurt breathe. "When are you teaching? I could stop by and exercise, and then pick you up after. We can shower at my hotel..."

Silence.

Then Blaine remembered one of Kurt's intimacy rules.

"Separately, of course," Blaine recovered, though he had really hoped for a steamy shower make out session.

Kurt looked up at the ceiling while he mulled the idea over in his head, smiling and biting his lip. He tried to imagine Blaine, sweating, lifting weights, maybe punching a bag.

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan," Kurt said. "My class starts at 6. It's usually over by 7."

"Great!" Blaine felt pleased with himself. He looked down at his own naked body, and then at the clock which read 4:30. Two and a half hours never seemed so long.


Blaine ended up at the rec center earlier than he had intended. It gave him a chance to finish his workout, and then stop into the dance room and get an idea of the kind of class Kurt taught.

Blaine opened the door slowly, trying not to attract too much attention, but the music in the room was so loud, Blaine was surprised he could still hear himself think. Beyonce's 'Single Ladies' bumped steadily through the speakers, and he could hear Kurt's voice above the din, calling out numbers and instructions.

"Bend and up, up, up!" Kurt screamed, "And hands! I want to see hands! Seriously, girls, what would Ms. B say!?"

Blaine smiled at the sound of Kurt's voice as he came around the corner.

'Ah,' Blaine thought, 'there's my black sw-- oh dear God...'

Blaine was not prepared for the sight that greeted him. Standing in front of a large mirror in a tight black Spandex leotard was Kurt, shaking his hips with the music, moving his arms, sweat running down his face.

Blaine vaguely noticed several women stare at him through the reflection in the mirror. He only had eyes for Kurt. When Kurt bent over Blaine almost stumbled. He had to stop walking so he didn't make too big a fool of himself. He grabbed the barre to steady himself, which shifted on its bolts and made an embarrassingly loud rattling noise. Blaine stared, fixated on Kurt's beautiful ass and thought, 'God, am I lucky.'

A bunch of the women tittered, whispering behind their hands and giggling. Kurt finally noticed Blaine and smiled, winking subtly as he turned back to the sound system and started the song over.

"Okay ladies, last time, and yes, the man in the back of the room is stunning, but let's focus, okay?"

Blaine looked down at this feet and smiled, blushing to his roots.

'Stunning. My black swan thinks I'm stunning.'

Kurt went over the 'Single Ladies' routine one last time with his class. Some of the women kept up with Kurt, most of them couldn't, some just blatantly stared at Blaine, or tried to get his attention. Blaine watched Kurt, possessed by his long legs and his swaying hips.

God, he needed to have this man. He couldn't even get Kurt to kiss him.

As soon as Kurt dismissed class, a group of students swarmed Blaine.

"Are you Blaine Anderson? THE Blaine Anderson?"

Blaine could feel Kurt's eyes watching him with amusement. Usually, Blaine lived for moments like this, when masses of giggly girls and women cornered him, asking for his autograph. But tonight was different. He didn't want anything to take him away from Kurt - his beautiful Kurt, dressed in his tight leotard, only a few feet away.

"No," Blaine said, "I'm not Blaine Anderson. But I get that a lot."

The women seemed disappointed, but not too disappointed. After all, Blaine, star or not, was hotter than the sun.

"Now, now," an older woman said, pushing lightly at the horde who also happened to be blocking the only exit. "The man said he's not Blaine Anderson, and even if he was, it ain't no matter. It's obvious he's Kurt's."

The women sighed with disappointment, some of them glared, but mostly the crowd dispersed.

"Thank you, Mrs. Marcoletti," Kurt called out. The older woman raised a hand in good-bye as she shuffled out the door.

"Hey, beautiful." Blaine kept his hands shoved deep in his pockets since his first instinct was to grab Kurt and kiss him.  Instead, he watched Kurt gather up his things.

"You look incredible," Blaine said, and got a sudden spark of inspiration. "Go dancing with me?"

"What?" Kurt asked with a chuckle. "Dressed like this?"

'Yes, please.'

"No, we'll go back to the hotel and change, but after...will you?"

Kurt stood up and went to shoulder his duffel, but Blaine grabbed it and put it over his own shoulder. Kurt watched the gesture, and smiled.

"Sure, Blaine Anderson. It's a date."

A date. Blaine thought about that word the entire drive back to the hotel. He thought about it while he showered, and even more while Kurt showered. Kurt showering in his bathroom seemed like such an intimate act. He stood by the door and listened to Kurt as he hummed quietly under the spray of the water. Blaine wondered briefly if Kurt would think he was a creeper if he stepped out and caught Blaine eavesdropping on him.

Date Kurt might actually be hotter than dom Kurt, if that was even possible. When he stepped out of the bathroom, he was wearing dark skinny jeans, a black button down shirt of Blaine's, and a pair of almost industrial looking boots. His hair was perfectly styled and away from his face, and Kurt had even put dark eyeliner on that made his already amazing blue eyes pop.

"Well, what do you think?" Kurt asked, giving Blaine a tiny spin.

Blaine would have said amazing, terrific, wonderful...if he hadn't been completely tongue tied.

"Well, thank you," Kurt giggled. "Let's go while the night is young."

Kurt directed Blaine to a night club he went to when they first moved to San Diego. He remembered it being pretty hot as night clubs went, but for a young man with a new family, it didn't seem appropriate and he stopped going.

Kurt bounded in like he owned the place. He stepped up to the bar and ordered a shot of tequila. The bartender - tall, slim, wearing a leather vest and pants - watched Kurt appreciatively as he picked up the shot using only his teeth and threw it back in one go. Blaine almost swallowed his tongue.

"That's quiet a talent you have there," the bartender commented, leaning forward on the bar to look into Kurt's ever changing eyes. Blaine noticed in the spinning strobe light coming off the dance floor that they had gone from blue to grey.

"Definitely," Kurt said, grabbing for Blaine's hand. "My sub here certainly thinks so." With that, he brought Blaine's hand up to his mouth, slipping Blaine's middle finger between his lips. Closing his eyes, he sucked it into his mouth as far as it would go. Both men watched him in awe, but Blaine, on the receiving end of a tongue that wrapped nimbly around his finger and sucked hungrily, nearly passed out. Kurt let the finger slip back out passed his lips, chasing it for a second with his tongue before bouncing away in the direction of the dance floor.

Blaine followed Kurt with his eyes.

"You're a lucky man." The bartender looked at Blaine with admiration. He plucked the shot glass off the bar, holding it up to eye level. "I'm keeping this one. It's been touched by an angel."

'No,' Blaine thought. 'A swan. My black swan.'

Blaine decided not to drink, in case Kurt decided to have another shot. He figured a drunk Kurt might be an interesting Kurt, and Blaine wanted to be sober enough to enjoy it.

Blaine spotted Kurt. Instead of joining him, he just watched him, moving about with reckless abandon, throwing his hands up and spinning. Those hips, those sinful hips and the way they moved - Blaine could watch Kurt move those hips all night long. Blaine wanted to feel them move against his body. Blaine wanted Kurt to dance only for him.

Eyes followed Kurt as he danced. He was completely in his element. Even though many men, and some women, tried to get close to him, Kurt always managed to move away, his body almost feline in its ability to slither out of reach.

Blaine needed to be close to him. He walked toward Kurt, the pull of his body unmistakable. Half way across the floor, Blaine was accosted by a tipsy group of young women. He was caught in their circle on the dance floor and no matter how he tried to escape, they wouldn't let him go. Blaine knew they were talking to him, flirting with him, touching him, but he was trying to search out Kurt. Something in Blaine's head became frantic, and he felt a little lost...trapped.

He was frightened for a moment that Kurt might have left...maybe even left with someone else.

"Hey!" one of the women screeched and moved violently aside as pale, slender hands parted the group, grabbing Blaine by the hips, and nearly carrying him away.

"Bitch!" he heard another of the women call after them, but Blaine didn't care. He was back with his angel, his terrifying black swan, and Kurt was owning him. Kurt had Blaine's hips secured in his hands, pulled tight against his body till there was no room between them. Kurt's shimmering eyes were locked on Blaine's, siphoning his will.

Kurt grabbed Blaine's leg, lifting it up by the knee to the level of his hip, grinding shamelessly against him, revelling in the feeling of Blaine becoming hard. Blaine was a mess. He held onto Kurt's shoulders, running fingertips over Kurt's face, tracing the outline of his lips. Blaine tried to get as close as he could to Kurt, to breathe him in. Kurt smelled like alcohol and sex and every wet dream Blaine had ever had.

Blaine pulled Kurt's face down to his, foreheads pressed together, staring deep into his eyes.

"Kiss me," Blaine said.

"No," Kurt said, a teasing smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

"Why not?" Blaine asked.

"Because," Kurt said, ghosting over Blaine's lips with his own, "I want you to beg me to kiss you."

Kurt's lips continued to travel along the contours of Blaine's mouth, hovering but never quite touching. Blaine tried to steal a kiss, but Kurt was too quick, pulling back just enough to float barely out of reach. Blaine managed to coax Kurt back so that his face lingered close to his.

"Then take me back to my room..." Blaine said, his voice quivering as he spoke, "and make me beg."


Blaine's car flew down the highway in an effort to get them back to the hotel as quickly as possible. Kurt kept quiet as the drove, looking over at Blaine, watching the tension in his shoulders, the way he absentmindedly licked his lips while he drove, the tight grip his hands had on the steering wheel. This man was so close, and Kurt was thinking of all the things he could do to push him over the edge.

The minute they stepped into Blaine's room, Kurt rounded on Blaine, pulling down his leather jacket to his elbows and holding it tight to constrict his arms behind his back. Kurt brought his face as close to Blaine's as he dared, Kurt's lips so close Blaine could almost feel them brush against his.

"I have plans for you, princess," Kurt said, his whisper almost frighteningly soft and calm. He buried his face in the crook of Blaine's neck and inhaled, feeling Blaine's head drop backward. He took in the smells of the nightclub - cigarette smoke and too much perfume from that aggressive group of bitches on the dance floor - all fighting to hide Blaine's signature scent of cedar and cloves from whatever cologne he wore. Kurt sighed. He would never admit it, but he was pretty sure that's what heaven smelled like.

"Get undressed and lie down." Kurt shoved playfully at Blaine's shoulder. Kurt turned and went into the bathroom.

Blaine was excited, more excited than he had been since he started seeing Kurt. Seeing Kurt? Was he really seeing Kurt? He wanted to, oh God, how he wanted Kurt to be his. For now, this arrangement was all he had, and he was going to enjoy this time.

The idea of kissing Kurt was what had him undressing in a flash and lying obediently in bed. So close, those gorgeous lips had been so close, and how many nights had he gone to bed dreaming of kissing those lips?

There was more. The flirty smiles, the chats, the nights sleeping in his arms...and he had yet to have him.

Kurt came out from the bathroom in record time. Usually the anticipation of Kurt was the most torturous - the time he spent getting ready in the bathroom while Blaine waited patiently, trying to will away his erection since Kurt would punish him for that. Here he was, Blaine's black swan, in an outfit that screamed 'Fuck me'. Kurt's black corset, pulled tight against his skin, gave him just the hint of an hourglass figure, and came up in chains that met a choker wrapped  around his neck, studded all around in silver. He had changed out of his jeans into an incredibly tight pair of faux leather pants.

Kurt held up a strange silver cord, a quarter of an inch thick, wrapped in some kind of clear rubber.

"This," Kurt explained, "is something I have that's a little more severe." While Kurt tied Blaine down he continued to explain. "If you tug on this too hard, you're definitely going to feel it." Blaine tugged on it a bit and could tell immediately that the sole purpose of this cord was to keep him immobile. When he tugged even lightly, it dug uncomfortably into his skin.

Blaine swallowed, trying to imagine what Kurt had planned that he would need Blaine completely still for.

Kurt straddled Blaine's hips, his strong thighs keeping him poised just above Blaine's crotch.

"Now..." A devilish smile curled Kurt's lips, "I'm not going to touch you..."

Blaine's breath hitched.

"...and I'm not going to let you come."

Kurt pulled a familiar black leather strap from his pocket. How anything fit in Kurt's pockets he had yet to figure out. Kurt quickly slipped the cock ring over Blaine, and pulled the straps tight.

Blaine hissed a little, but couldn't waste energy caring when whatever exquisite torture Kurt had planned had yet to begin.

Blaine watched as Kurt snaked his hand down the front of his own pants. Blaine followed the movement as Kurt's hand slipped beneath the waist band. Those tight pants left nothing to the imagination. Blaine could see Kurt's hand wrap tightly around his own erection.

Blaine's jaw dropped.

Kurt's eyelids fluttered closed as he rolled his head back and moaned.

"Oh, God," he said, his sultry voice a breathy whisper.

Kurt started moving his hand slowly, while his other hand threaded in his own chestnut hair.

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt moaned.

'No,' Blaine thought. 'Oh God, no.' Here was, trapped, naked, his black swan masturbating above him, moaning deliciously...moaning his name.

Blaine pulled on his restraints, forgetting for a moment the thin wire. He stilled his arms. His hands twitching.

He needed to reach him, needed to touch him.

Kurt's fingers trailed down his face, slipping between his lips while he sucked on his fingers one at a time.

Blaine licked his lips. He pulled again...harder.

"My God, Blaine," Kurt continued. "Can you feel that? Can you feel how hard I am for you?"

Blaine's breathing stuttered. He watched Kurt's fingernails lightly scratch over his perfect pale skin as they traveled over the corset, stopping momentarily to tug at the lacing, as if fighting to peel it open and off of his skin.

Kurt's hips bucked up and down in time to his hand pumping slowly over his own cock. Blaine could barely glimpse the head as Kurt continued up and down, up and down, mimicking that he was riding Blaine.

Blaine pulled again. He felt the cord cut into his skin, but it didn't quite register.

Kurt's fingers continued their journey over his skin.

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt whispered into the dark. "Touch me, Blaine."

Blaine watched in absolute agony as Kurt's fingers found their way down the back of his pants. Blaine felt them brush against his cock through the fabric of Kurt's pants and Blaine knew that Kurt had started fingering himself. Blaine's cock twitched, trying to find friction. Kurt managed to rock just out of reach.

"God, Blaine." Kurt's voice, thick with lust and pleasure, teased Blaine. Every moan of his name from Kurt's lips shot through Blaine, cutting him with the need to engulf Kurt, to rock into him slowly, to make him cum over and over.

If he could manage to make Kurt black out, it would be a dream come true.

Right now, he couldn't even reach him.

Blaine's name became a sadistic chant as it tumbled from Kurt's lips. Blaine saw a small bead of sweat forming over Kurt's temple, dripping slowly down Kurt's face. Kurt wasn't acting. He was going to cum. Blaine could see the ecstacy etched onto Kurt's features. Kurt definitely knew how to take care of himself.

It was killing Blaine.

Blaine shook in the bed, bucking his hips, pulling at his binds. He let out a scream of pure frustration. He thought his heart would explode. He could feel beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, down his arms, down his back, tickling his skin.

This was cruel, and not because he wanted to cum.

He wanted Kurt.

"Blaine," Kurt gasped. He wondered, for a moment, if Blaine had forgotten what he wanted. "Weren't you going to beg me for something?"

Blaine's mind went fuzzy. He couldn't remember. Beg him for something? Anything to make this torture stop. Anything to be close to his Kurt. But what was it? Blaine was overwhelmed. His senses were flooded. He pulled and pulled at the binds on his wrists and he could feel the cord cutting his skin, but he didn't care. He needed Kurt. He needed something.

"Just ask me, Blaine," Kurt's head was rolling from shoulder to shoulder, eyes still closed, lips parted as Kurt continued to moan Blaine's name with abandon. "Oh, God, Blaine. I'm so close."

"Please, Kurt," Blaine begged weakly. "Please, stop. I want..."

"Want what?"

Kurt looked like perfection. Blaine couldn't stand it. He tugged harder and winced at the pain, but he was beyond the pain. Kurt was too far. If Kurt was spanking him or whipping him, at least he would be touching him, but this was too much. Without realizing it, Blaine started crying.

What he wouldn't do to replace Kurt's hand with his own, to worship his flawless skin with his lips.

A kiss!

"Kiss me, Kurt," Blaine begged through his tears.

"You want to kiss me?" Kurt slowed his hand.

"Yes, Kurt," Blaine nearly whined. "Kurt, please, kiss me, please."

Kurt opened his eyes with a triumphant grin, looking smugly over Blaine's face. Kurt's smile fell when he saw the tears in Blaine's eyes, the tracks they took as they spilled down his cheeks. He looked up at Blaine's bound wrists and gasped.

"Oh my God. Blaine!"

Kurt quickly untied Blaine's wrists which were covered with blood.

"Blaine." Kurt ran to the bathroom and returned with a first aid kit. He started dabbing away the blood with a clean gauze, quietly thankful that the marks were ugly, but not deep. He wrapped his wrists in gauze, securing the ends with tape. Finally, he removed the cock ring.

"Jesus, Blaine. You did this..." Kurt shook his head.

"I needed that kiss," Blaine said softly, honestly, looking up to meet Kurt's eyes.

Kurt looked at Blaine's lips, red from where he had bitten them. He leant over Blaine's body slowly, looking deep into his eyes as Blaine watched every move Kurt made. Kurt brushed his lips slowly against Blaine's once...then twice...then he claimed his lips softly, slowly.

It had been a long time since Kurt had kissed anybody, and even then he didn't have much experience. Once his lips touched Blaine's, it seemed like Kurt knew exactly what Blaine needed. He felt Blaine go completely still, felt the moment his eyes fell shut, felt Blaine breathe him in.

Kurt ran his tongue along Blaine's lips. Blaine's lips parted, and Kurt deepened the kiss, caressing Blaine's  tongue, enjoying the taste of his mouth.

Kurt backed away too quickly for Blaine.

"I'm so sorry, Blaine," Kurt whispered against Blaine's lips. "I just...I'm so sorry. From now on, if you want a kiss, all you have to do is ask..."

"Please kiss me, Kurt," Blaine asked sweetly. Kurt laid his body out over Blaine's. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt, running his fingertips up and down Kurt's back, feeling Kurt shiver beneath his touch.

Slowly, Kurt's lips touched Blaine's again, moving against his mouth, taking a moment to nibble Blaine's plush lower lip, delighting in Blaine's moan.

Blaine smiled.

"I could get used to this," he whispered into Kurt's skin.

"Used to what?"

"Kissing you."

"Ah." Kurt smiled. "I think I can, too."

Blaine rolled Kurt onto the bed beside him, and started kissing a trail down Kurt's chin to his neck, sucking lightly. Kurt squirmed beneath Blaine's lips, long dormant nerves lighting on fire, sparking into flame. Blaine's hands traveled down the front of Kurt's corset, down to the waistband of those sinfully tight pants. His hands stilled for a moment when he realized Kurt was still hard.

"Can I?" he whispered into Kurt's ear.

Kurt almost stopped breathing. He could feel the warmth of Blaine's hand radiating down his body, felt it coiling around him in a peculiar way, as if his body was asking Blaine to touch him. It had been so long, so fucking long, since someone had touched him like that.

This wasn't just anyone. This was Blaine. Not Blaine the television star, but just Blaine.

This man that Kurt was falling in love with.

Blaine's hand hovered, just out of the reach of Kurt's now straining cock.

How could Kurt say no.

He didn't trust his own voice to say yes, so he simply nodded.

Blaine's hand slipped easily into Kurt's pants, and for a moment, after Blaine had wrapped his strong, sure fingers around Kurt's length, Blaine held him. Not moving, not stroking, just holding with a firm, constant pressure. Kurt couldn't understand why until it finally registered that the moan he was hearing echo around them was coming from his own mouth.

Blaine's mouth covered his, and he kissed him, slowly slipping his tongue between Kurt's bruised lips. That's when the first move came. Blaine's hand pumped Kurt with long, languid strokes. Blaine luxuriated in the feel of Kurt in his fist, swallowing the gasps and moans that slipped passed Kurt's mouth and into his.

Kurt didn't hear the bottle of lube open. He didn't realize Blaine had coated his fingers until he felt one drag slickly down his crack and circle his entrance. Kurt broke away from Blaine's mouth to look up into his honey-gold eyes.
 
Blaine held his breath. Kurt's eyes looked wild, almost scared. He climbed slowly up onto his knees and pulled off his pants, tossing them over the side. He pushed Blaine onto his back and climbed over him, settling back on Blaine's hips. Blaine stayed still, watching Kurt carefully with almost predatory eyes. Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand, pulling it towards his entrance.

From that moment on, Kurt surrendered his control.

'For once,' he thought. 'Just this once.'

Blaine slipped a finger into Kurt, slowly, achingly slow, passed the tight ring of muscle and into Kurt's heat. Kurt dropped his head to Blaine's shoulder, trying to focus solely on being...being with Blaine...and for a moment, his own happiness.

Not everyone else's feelings. Not the burden of all his responsibilities.

Just Kurt.

Kurt, who was in love with Blaine.

Kurt was confused. Confused by Blaine, and how he felt when he was with him, and what had happened that had turned this from just a regular job into...

More confusion. What was this exactly?

Kurt felt Blaine pull his body closer against him until their hips met, their cocks slotted together, and he started to move.

There was nothing but heat. Every inch of Blaine's body, every touch of Blaine's lips against Kurt's skin, every move of Blaine's hips that forced their cocks to slide together, everything was just fire dancing over Kurt's skin.

Kurt felt himself spiraling through the dark. Too much...all of a sudden it was all too much. Kurt could feel pressure building. He couldn't use his hands. He could barely breathe. Blaine's fingers had discovered all of his deepest secrets, and was using them viciously against him, finding spots that hadn't been touched in years. It seemed so easy, too. Kurt could feel himself light up from the inside. Blaine's tongue seemed in no hurry to leave Kurt's mouth, and though the kisses were long and relaxed, the snap of Blaine's hips and the pace of his fingers massaging deep inside Kurt were relentless.

Kurt's body stopped being his own the moment he kissed Blaine. That scared Kurt.

When Blaine broke their kiss to whisper, "Come for me, Kurt," it all seemed okay. It all seemed right.

For once, Kurt did what Blaine commanded.

Kurt came with Blaine, trembling against him, biting his lips in an effort not to scream.

He didn't want to give Blaine that yet.

Kurt floated for a moment in that space between ecstasy and reality. When his feet retruned back to the ground, he took back control. He cleaned them up, and rewrapped Blaine's brusied wrists. Blaine watched him with a smile on his lips so wide, so full of affection and happiness, it almost hurt Kurt to look at it.

This time, when Kurt crawled into bed with Blaine, he did so with a lingering kiss good-night.


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