Get back in my life, come knock on my door
What I'm looking for, I think you should know
You started a fire, put me to the floor
Please don't resist anymore
I'll never leave you alone

-Get Back in My Life by Maroon 5-

"Monique...Monique...s'il vous plait...Monique! Oh my God! Monique, stop talking and listen!"

This had been going on all morning.

Last night, Kurt and Blaine had stood by the window, kissing. Just kissing softly, yet passionately. Blaine was incapable of feeling bad about his treatment of Kurt, but he always wanted Kurt to know how much he loved him. Blaine had held him close and whispered to him.

"Try to understand, beautiful. I love you more than anything. Anything. I need you, Kurt. Without you...without you I can barely breathe. I'm pale. I'm weak. You are my strength. I love you, so very much. You must be here with me."

Kurt melted at the sound of Blaine's voice, coupled with his warm kisses. The kisses led to love making. Gentle, soft, and loving. No matter what, sex between them was always perfect. Perfect for the situation they found themselves in. Whether rough and brutal, or soft and sweet, the sex was always perfect.

Kurt woke up at 6:00 am. His mind was racing with things to do. He had to plan how he was going to leave Paris, without returning to Paris. He sat down with his iPad and started making lists. A list of the projects he was currently working on and what needed to be done. A list for the VIP fashion show. A list of his belongings in Paris. He would have to ask Etienne to pack his things and ship them. He would have to call Daveed and say goodbye. Kurt didn't want to just leave him wondering what had happened to him. That would be mean. He would make that call while Blaine was at work.

After making his lists, Kurt made the mistake of calling his co-worker, Pierre. There were somethings that would need to be taken care of immediately, and Kurt didn't want Pierre to be blindsided when he walked in on Monday. Despite telling Pierre not to tell anyone else that he wasn't returning, Pierre had hung up with Kurt and immediately called two other people. Within minutes, Kurt's cell phone was ringing and his email inbox was filling up. He'd been on the phone all morning trying to explain why he wasn't returning and begging everyone not to say anything to the head designer. He wanted to tell her himself.

Blaine lay in bed, leaning against the headboard, listening to Kurt's half French, half English conversations. He closed his eyes. He really didn't give a shit about anybody in France, whose life would be inconvenienced by Kurt's sudden departure. But, he hated to see Kurt struggling to figure it all out. He could tell he was getting stressed as he started fretting about Etienne finding and packing all of his things. Especially his clothes. Etienne was straight and all male. He would probably throw everything in a box, slap on some tape and send it on its way.

Kurt had been fussing on the phone with Monique for the past 15 minutes. From what Blaine could tell, she was freaking out over the VIP fashion show.

"Monique, I will send you a list of everything I planned to do, what's already done and what needs to be done, as well as who to contact for the food and flowers. I already took care of the alcohol. Finding the models will be easy. I was halfway done with that. Monique...please calm down and stop yelling!"

Blaine opened his eyes and looked at Kurt. He knew Kurt was talented and capable, but seriously? He'd only been in Paris for two months. How had he become so indispensable so fast? All these people sounded like idiots.

Kurt hung up the phone and sighed. He put the phone on vibrate, left it on the table and climbed into bed with Blaine. He snuggled up next to him. Blaine wrapped him in his arms.

"Would it help you if we go to Paris in three weeks to get your things? I'll be finished with the internship in three weeks. We could turn it into a vacation."

"I guess."

Blaine frowned. Kurt sounded sad. Tired and sad. Suddenly, Kurt sat up.

"How about I go back for three weeks? That will give me time to pack all my things, resign properly and say goodbye to everyone. I'll be back just as you are finishing up. Then we can go on a real vacation without having to worry about my stuff. I'll already be moved in."

Blaine narrowed his eyes as they darkened. Kurt gone for three more weeks?

"I don't know Kurt..."

"Please Blaine? It makes perfect sense. This way, I'll be able to handle leaving, the right way. I don't want to give Parsons a bad name. They have a relationship with this design house. I hate to make Parsons look bad. It's bad enough that I'm leaving after two months. At least this way, I can give notice and help line up things for whoever is going to take over my assignments."

Blaine sat there thinking.

The darkness started swirling around. No! No! No!

Three weeks.

Could he stand three more weeks?

Kurt climbed on top of him, straddling him.

"Please Blaine? It would make everything so much easier."

"Why can't you just wait until I'm done and then we will go together?"

"I could...but I really want my things. I need my clothes. I only brought a few outfits with me. What will I wear for three weeks?"

"You can go shopping."

Kurt paused. The idea of shopping was tempting. But he had so many wonderful outfits in Paris. Things he had bought and not worn yet. He wanted his clothes.

Besides, this was silly. It was only three weeks.

"How about two weeks? I don't need a full three weeks. I can pack everything, give notice and be back in two weeks. I'll be here for your final week of work."

Okay. Two weeks. Blaine could handle two weeks.

"Okay. Two weeks. You come home for good in two weeks."

Kurt clapped his hands, squealed happily, and moved to scramble out of bed. Blaine grabbed his arm.

"Uh uh. You need to thank your master for being so generous."

Kurt settled back on top of Blaine. He leaned over and kissed him softly before moving to his neck and whispering in his ear.

"How would you like me to thank you, master?"

"By impaling yourself on my cock."

Kurt pulled back to look at Blaine. Blaine's eyes were black and burning.

"Do you mean chair sex?" Kurt's body shuddered at the mere mention. They hadn't had chair sex that weekend because of Kurt's seven hour plane ride. No way he would be able to sit that long after chair sex.

"No. You will impale yourself right here. In bed."

Oh. Okay. This was still intense, but nowhere near as intense and fierce as doing it in a chair.

Blaine pulled Kurt's head to him and kissed him hard and demanding. "Impale yourself Kurt. Impale yourself on my cock and thank me for being so kind."

Kurt remained straddled on Blaine's lap, but he backed up and raised himself to his knees. Blaine positioned his cock and Kurt slowly lowered himself down. Holy, holy, holy hell. Kurt hissed and dug his nails into Blaine's shoulders. When he was halfway down, Blaine arched his hips and shifted himself hard, up into Kurt's ass. Kurt screamed and made the mistake of falling back, catching himself with his hands. Blaine took advantage of the position and thrust himself further into Kurt. Kurt screamed again. He was about to push himself forward when Blaine stopped him.

"No. Stay just like that." Blaine released the control, locking Kurt in place. Kurt groaned as he felt it wrap around him. Blaine started rapidly arching his hips up, fucking into Kurt. Kurt was breathing hard and gasping. With every thrust, Blaine was hitting his prostate perfectly. After a few minutes, Blaine pulled in the control and allowed Kurt to lean forward, Blaine's cock still lodged inside him. Kurt groaned in relief until Blaine dug his fingers into his hips.

"Move up and then come back down. Slowly."

Ohhh...

Kurt slid up Blaine's cock, and then came back down. He grunted and dug his nails into Blaine's shoulders, drawing blood.

"Again."

Kurt slid up again and came back down. Oh, fuck.

"Again Kurt. Harder and faster."

Okay. Why did he think this would be easier than chair sex? Kurt started moving up and down, grunting loudly as he came down. Oh, so hard and intense, yet wonderful. Once he was bouncing at a smooth pace, Blaine spoke.

"Thank me."

Kurt struggled to speak. "Wh-what?"

"Thank me for letting you go back to Paris."

Kurt closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on forming actual words and not just sounds.

"Th-th-thank you...oh...master. Thank...you for...oh shit...letting me go...ohhh...back...to...Paris."

"Again."

"Th-thank you...oh!"

Blaine shifted his hips up to meet Kurt, causing Kurt to lose focus and groan from the sudden change. Everything felt fiercer.

"That one doesn't count. You have to say the entire sentence ten time before you can stop."

It took Kurt 20 minutes to get the entire sentence out, seven times. He caught a break when Blaine couldn't stand it anymore and came, shooting hot cum up Kurt's sore ass. Kurt yelled in agony. He had been tricked. This entire thing was just as bad as chair sex. Blaine slid his body down between Kurt's legs, until Kurt was sitting on Blaine's chest. Blaine took Kurt's dick into his mouth and started sucking. Kurt eagerly fucked Blaine's mouth, grateful for the release. He came hard and then slid back down, laying his head on Blaine's chest. Blaine wrapped his arms around him.

"Two weeks. Two more weeks and then you are all mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. The past two months have been hell, Kurt. Pure hell. No more separations. Do you hear me, Kur ? Do you understand? No more. None. You are to stay here, with me. You will take care of me. And, I don't want you looking for a job until October. Maybe not until after the first of the year. I'm sick of this shit. I need you. I love you and I need you. Just let me take care of you and you take care of me. That's what you are supposed to do. I need you, Kurt. I need you."

Kurt remained silent. He was exhausted. He wasn't about to argue. He would go to Paris, take care of things and return home to Blaine. Where he belonged.

Of course, he wasn't going to wait until the first of the year to find a job. They could argue about that later.

That evening, they sat in the airport waiting for Kurt's departure. Blaine was nervous and on edge. Maybe he was making a mistake. Fuck everyone in Paris. He should make Kurt stay. But Kurt looked happy and relaxed. He felt better about not finishing the internship, now that he was going to resign properly. He had a check from Blaine, made out to Etienne for six months worth of full rent. Kurt wanted to be overly generous as a way of saying thank you and I'm sorry. Blaine was fine with that. Whatever it took to get Kurt back home.

When it was time for Kurt to leave, Blaine kissed him passionately. Damn. Why was Kurt always leaving him?

"I'll be back in two weeks. You can last two weeks, right?"

"Barely."

Kurt caressed his cheek. Blaine's skin was darker than it was three days ago. Not back to normal, but better. Kurt pressed his body against Blaine's and smiled as he felt Blaine's instant erection.

"When I return, you can fuck me for days until your color and strength are restored. You can tie me to your bed and just take me. Over and over and over..."

Blaine moaned and pulled Kurt tightly to him as he devoured him with a kiss. "Stop before I don't let you leave."

When it was time for Kurt to board, Blaine placed his hand on Kurt's chest. They stared into each others eyes. This time, Kurt started.

"Who are you?"

"I am your master."

"Who am I?"

"You are my slave. My beautiful, beautiful slave."

"Always."

"Always."

"I love you."

"I love you."

X-X-X-X-X

That evening, Blaine sat on his bed reading through the rest of his NYU law school packet. He was finally feeling excited about starting. Kurt would be home. Two weeks. Blaine smiled. Everything would be good. Kurt would take care of him while he studied and busted his ass to do well. He was determined to graduate at the top his class and pass the bar on the first attempt. He still wanted to work at HWV, but he no longer wanted to place all his eggs in one basket. He had started looking into a few other firms. HWV was the best, but Blaine wasn't sure it was the safest. He didn't trust Mike Huntel. Somehow Mike knew about Blaine's powers. On the one hand, this could be good. It would be easier to use them if he had cover from Mike. But at the same time, it was dangerous. Mike had already asked for something big. What if he asked again? Blaine didn't want to feel beholden. The darkness was his power to use as he saw fit. He wasn't pimping it out to Mike.

His cell phone rang. Jace.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Silence.

"I wanted to thank Kurt for an excellent meal last night. And for the amazing entertainment."

"You could have left."

"I did."

"Yeah, but how long did you stay for?"

"The entire thing. I must say Blaine, you really are fucking incredible in bed. No wonder Kurt is so devoted to you. It has nothing to do with enslavement. It's all about what you can do with your cock."

Blaine was silent. Jace kept going.

"And Kurt. Wow. Damn. There are just no words to describe Kurt. The sounds he makes are simply delicious. And he is so fucking beautiful. So beautiful. You really are lucky, Blaine. I would love to have Kurt as a slave."

The darkness swirled around. Blaine kept his voice steady. "Well, you can't have him. He's mine. He belongs to me and I am an only child. I don't share."

"Of course you don't. I get it. Has he left?"

"Yes, but he will be back in two weeks."

"That's a quick turnaround visit."

"It's not for a visit. He's coming home to stay."

"I thought he was supposed to be gone for a year."

"He was. I decided two months was long enough."

"Oh. Well that's good. I'm sure you're happy. I don't know how you've gone without him for this long."

"Neither do I."

When they got off the phone, Jace's eyes turned black and he thought hard.

Two weeks.

Kurt would be home in two weeks.

Blaine would be unprotected for only two more weeks.

If Jace was going to do this, he had to act fast.

Monday morning, Jessica Lincoln sat in Mike Huntel's office, looking nervously between Mike and the district attorney, Daniel Michelsen. Why were they here? This was her case. Why did Dan want Mike present?

She crossed her long legs and looked at the district attorney. "Okay Dan. What is this all about?"

"It has just come to my attention that our key witness in the murder of Stephanie Wilcox, has changed her story. She suddenly doesn't remember seeing Andrew Montiel in the park that day. As a matter of fact, she has no idea who shot Stephanie. She didn't see anything."

Jessica's face instantly brightened. This was excellent. Dan's entire case rested on the eyewitness.

"Well, considering that you have no murder weapon, and no additional evidence linking my client to this murder, I assume you will be dropping the charges."

Dan didn't say anything. He was looking at Mike. Mike stared back at him, intently.

"I find it very strange that the witness changed her story, just a few weeks before its time to go to trial."

Jessica looked between Mike and Dan. What was going on?

"Well Dan, witnesses change their minds all the time. You know eyewitness testimony is highly unreliable."

Dan finally turned to look at Jessica. "I think this witness had help changing her mind."

Jessica narrowed her eyes and frowned at Dan. "Are you accusing me of something?"

"We received a tip that someone was seen talking to the witness, a few days before she changed her story."

"People talk to people all the time. What's your point?"

Dan turned back to Mike. Dan actually liked Mike. He respected him. Respected how he had built Huntel, Wellington and VanSant into a powerhouse, legal machine. Only the best attorneys. Only the most attractive, blond women. Only good-looking men. The firm could double for a modeling agency. If he hadn't decided to go into public service, he would enjoy working for Mike. Mike was a brilliant attorney, a keen strategist and rich. He knew how to make money and he was generous with it. HWV paid its attorneys more than any other firm in the city. And they won cases. Dan was sure Mike had pulled dirty stunts in the past, but this...this was going a bit far, even for Mike. This was a straight forward murder case. Yes, the client was a Montiel, but still. Witness tampering?

Mike stared back at Dan. Mike had purposely kept Jessica in the dark, so that she would be able to honestly and appropriately respond.

"Dan, are you accusing us of something?"

Dan stood up. "No. Not yet. Consider this a warning. I know you did something. I don't know what or how. But I know you did something. When I find out what...I will bring your entire firm up on ethics violations and witness tampering charges. I will bring your firm to its knees, Mike. Take my word for it. You will go down for this one."

Jessica was fuming, but Mike remained perfectly calm.

"I can assure you Dan, that no one employed by this firm played a role in witness tampering. That is not how we do things at Huntel, Wellington and VanSant, and frankly, I am highly offended at the suggestion."

Dan waved his hand as he walked to the door.

"Whatever Mike. We both know you are full of shit. I just don't understand why you would stoop so low for a murderer. A jackass, evil, son-of-a-bitch like Andrew Montiel. Stephanie Wilcox was a lovely young woman. She didn't deserve what happened to her, just because she got mixed up with an asshole from the other side of the tracks. You are on the wrong side of this one, Mike. The wrong side. You should have gone for a plea deal instead of getting greedy for the Montiel money."

"As if you would have accepted a plea deal in this case!" Jessica was furious. She didn't like being accused of playing dirty.

"Furthermore, how dare you question my..."

Mike put his hand up to stop her.

"Thanks for stopping by to deliver the news personally, Dan. Jessica will have the appropriate papers on your desk in the morning."

Dan looked between the two of them. "The charges are dropped for now, but I reserve the right to refile in the future. Eventually you or Andrew will fuck up. And when you do, I'm taking all of you down."

Dan walked out.

Jessica turned to Mike. "What the hell is going on!"

Mike looked at her calmly. "What's going on is that you just kept your client out of jail, which is your job, and earned this firm a hell of a payday, and the eternal gratitude from one of the city's wealthiest families. Go draw up the paperwork, have it couriered over to Dan's office, send the Montiel's a huge bill and take the rest of the day off."

Jessica looked at him. What had he done?

"Fine. Thanks Mike."

"Good work, Jessica. Thank you."

Mike pushed a button on his phone. "Allison? Are you wearing panties? Take them off and come into my office."

Blaine returned to work on Tuesday. He had spent Monday preparing for Kurt's return. He cleaned out his closet for the coming onslaught of Kurt's extensive wardrobe. As he looked around the loft, he wondered if it was time to move. He'd been there four years. Maybe he should look for a bigger place. A place with more closet space and a bathroom with a bathtub. He really needed to have a bathtub for Kurt to soak in after chair sex. A bigger kitchen would be nice too. Blaine lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. No, he would wait. They still had the wedding to pay for. Now that Kurt was coming home, Blaine wanted to move the wedding up. He wanted to get married as soon as possible. It was time to lock everything down. Kurt would be possessed, owned and married to him. No more separations. He wanted to feel strong and powerful again. He was tired of feeling weak. And, he was tired of being alone.

His phone rang. Jace.

"Hey."

"Hey, what are you doing for your birthday on Friday?"

His birthday. Blaine had forgotten about his birthday. He would be 22.

"No plans."

"Awesome. Plan to spend the night with me on Friday."

"What?"

"Don't worry. It's all perfectly innocent. We can have dinner and drinks here and then go that new club downtown. I think it's called, Hot. We'll meet some of the crew there and celebrate your birthday."

"So, why should I plan on spending the night?"

"I thought you might want to celebrate by getting drunk."

"I rarely get drunk."

"Birthday seems like a perfect excuse."

Blaine didn't say anything.

"Look Blaine. I saw you and Kurt. It's obvious you're crazy about him. You love him. I get it. You are not available for...anything. I'm not going to try anything."

"Jace...what exactly did you want to happen between us? I mean, we're both masters. Exactly who was going to fuck who?"

Jace was quiet for a minute. "I was going to let you fuck me. I'd love to have you fuck me, Blaine. I always guessed you would be amazing in bed and seeing you with Kurt, confirmed it. I was willing to let you fuck me."

Blaine almost dropped the phone. He was ticked off with his body for reacting immediately to Jace's admission. He was hard as a rock.

Jace's voice was quiet. "If you didn't have Kurt...wouldn't you want to fuck me, Blaine? Wouldn't you want to climb on top of me and fuck me until I called you master?"

Jace was pushing every response button within Blaine.

Blaine was silent. Jace kept going.

"I would have let you, Blaine. I would have let you fuck me until I screamed. But, I know you love Kurt and it's not going to happen, so don't worry. Seeing you and Kurt together has made me decide to focus on finding a slave. I want what you have."

Blaine didn't say anything.

"So, are we on for Friday?"

"Yes. But, I'm not spending the night. I can just come home."

"Okay. I'll see you Friday."

Kurt sat across from a very sad looking Daveed. They were having dinner and Kurt had just told him he was leaving.

"I do not understand, Kurt. I thought you were here for a year."

"I was supposed to be, but I miss Blaine too much. And he misses me and he needs me. I'm going home. I belong at home. With him."

"No! You belong in Paris. You belong with the beautiful, fashionable people. You belong here." With me.

"Daveed, I'm not going to North Dakota. I'm going to New York City. We are quite beautiful and fashionable in New York City."

"No place is like Paris."

"That's true. I love Paris. But, I love Blaine more."

They sat in silence. Finally, Daveed stood up and turned on his iPod. Music filled the room. He walked over to Kurt and held out his hand. "Dance with me."

Kurt took his hand and allowed him to wrap his arms around his waist and pull him close. Daveed always smelled so good. They swayed back and forth to the music.

"Let me make love to you, Kurt."

"No. I can't."

"Why not? I won't tell your New York lover."

"Blaine is my fiancee, not my lover."

Daveed sighed. "You need more lovers Kurt. You are too young to get married."

They swayed for awhile. Kurt relaxed in Daveed's arms, pretending he was Blaine. The song ended and Daveed pulled back. He looked into Kurt's eyes.

"You are leaving. Allow me to kiss you."

"Daveed, I..."

Daveed crashed his mouth into Kurt's. Kurt melted. Daveed's kiss was forceful, but full of sweet love and desire. Daveed deepened the kiss and Kurt allowed him. It felt so nice. He missed Blaine.

They stayed like that for awhile. Just kissing. Daveed ran his hands all over Kurt's body. Kurt allowed him. He felt like he owed him this goodbye. And, it felt so nice.

Daveed looked into Kurt's eyes, pleading. "Please Kurt. Let me love you. I am a wonderful lover. I promise you. You won't be disappointed. I will worship your body."

"I'm sorry Daveed. I can't. I just can't."

Kurt pulled away and quickly left.

Yes, he needed to go home. Missing Blaine was going to get him into trouble.

Jessica tapped her foot, impatiently as she waited for Andrew to come out. She really didn't like him. She thought he was a smarmy, spoiled bastard who hated women. However, it wasn't his fault. His mother was a bitch.

The door finally opened and Andrew walked out. He was tall with brown hair and bright green eyes. He was very good-looking, but a rude, spoiled, jerk. He leered at Jessica.

"About time you got me out of there. I probably have lice."

"You are a lice, you little asshole. How about saying thank you?"

Andrew was indignant. "Why should I thank you? My father's money is your thank you."

Jessica stopped at the desk to sign a few papers and to have Andrew sign a few.

Once they were outside she turned to him.

"Alright. You are free to go. Try not to kill anyone else."

"Hey, I didn't kill that bitch!"

Jessica looked at him with disgust. Would Mike fire her if she ground his balls into the pavement with her 4 inch heels?

"Fine. Whatever. Goodbye."

"Wait!"

Jessica sighed. "Yes?"

"Would you like to have a drink sometime?"

Was he serious?

"No. Never." Jessica turned and stepped into the firm's Lincoln Town car.

Andrew watched it pull away. Stupid bitch. He was done with women. Women were too much trouble. Maybe he would try guys. Maybe he would try being bi for a while. Wouldn't daddy love that.

At that moment, his family's Bentley pulled up to the curb. Clarissa jumped out.

"Oh, Drew! My baby!"

Andrew shrank at the sound of her voice. He wanted to disappear. Maybe jail wasn't so bad.

"How are you, sweetie? Oh, momma was so worried about you!"

Sure.

"Let's get you home."

Great.

As the car rolled along, Clarissa chatted nonstop. "You look too skinny. That fucking law firm. You would think they could have gotten you out of there sooner. Lawyers are such bastards."

"Did you bring my phone?"

Clarissa handed him his iPhone.

He scrolled through all the congratulations texts until he arrived on one from his buddy, David.

D - Back in town Friday. Let's celebrate your release. Heard club Hot is opening. Wanna go?

A - Sure. Sounds good.

Friday, Friday, it's all going down on Friday...