The fantasy suddenly fills Blaine’s mind the moment Kurt slips the shiny gold chain around his neck.

Blaine sucks in a thin, noisy breath through his nostrils, pulse pounding in his ears as the necklace digs tight, tight, tighter into his throat.

“Does that feel good?” Kurt whispers in his ear. Blaine can only manage a helpless, tight-lipped groan as Kurt’s hand trails down his belly to -- 

“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice dissolves his erotic daydream into a million tiny, scattered pieces. “Are you okay? Your face is all red.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” Blaine touches the cool, heavy metal resting on his too-warm skin. He lets his fingers lightly trail up to his Adam’s apple before he drops his arm to his side. “Come on. Let’s go get our groove on, baby!”

Kurt rolls his eyes, but reaches for Blaine’s hand as they walk out of the locker room to the auditorium.

***

Blaine can’t fully shake his vision, though -- not when the chain keeps bouncing against his neck while they dance on stage to “Stayin’ Alive.” Not when he can feel Kurt’s presence behind him while they perform. He tries to focus on anything else -- hitting the right notes, the right steps along with the rest of the group -- but it’s useless.

Kurt slides up against Blaine’s back, licking a stripe along the flesh of his earlobe. He feels Kurt slip a single finger between his skin and the gold, and then twist, twist...

Blaine’s cock begins to twitch as his imagination revs into overdrive.  There’s nothing he can do to stop from slowly hardening against the scratchy fabric of his bell bottoms -- not enough to draw embarrassing attention, but enough to make the white polyester tighten uncomfortably over his crotch when he thrusts his hips in time with the choreography.

By the time the group finishes the song, Blaine’s chest is heaving -- though he’s not sure if it’s from the exertion of dancing, or the image of Kurt cutting off his breath with the necklace that sits heavy as lead at the base of his throat.

That’s when Blaine knows. He wants -- no, needs -- to make his fantasy come alive.

Tonight.

***

“Seriously, though. I don’t know how you don’t like disco.”

“It’s so cheesy, Blaine.”

“Oh, right. This coming from the guy who made me go see Bring It On: The Musical.”

Kurt whirls around to face Blaine, gracefully sliding his white suit jacket off his shoulders and down his arms at the same time. “I told you. It was a wistful reminder of all that could have been had I stayed on the Cheerios.”

“Right.” Blaine struts across the locker room floor and wraps his palms around Kurt’s waist. The fabric of their matching suits rustles together as Blaine pulls Kurt’s body flush against his own. “There’s gotta be something you like about Saturday Night Fever.”

“Well, John Travola is dreamy. Just like you.” Blaine’s heart beats a little faster when Kurt runs a single fingertip along the V of black fabric peeking out from under his vest. “And we both know I appreciate a good vintage suit. Even if some of the accessories are a little...tacky.” Kurt taps his finger against the gold chain still hanging from Blaine’s neck.

Blaine couldn’t have asked for a more perfect intro.

“I kinda like the necklace, actually,” he says, his voice cracking under the pressure of pent-up need. Oh god, I want this so bad. His fervor pushes past his fear, encouraging him to spill his secret fetish. “So...I had an idea. Something...something new I want to try.”

Kurt arches a questioning eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Don’t freak out, okay? It’s just a...just a fantasy?”

One corner of Kurt’s mouth twitches with an impish smile. “Fantasy?” He drags out the word, his voice dropping to a low volume. “Do tell.”

“I want you to--” Blaine stops short, his desires suddenly difficult to speak aloud. He clears his throat, mustering all his courage to try again. “Um. I want you to. To use the necklace to c-choke me. While you...while we...”

He trails off when the tiny smile evaporates from Kurt’s face. Kurt’s eyes widen, round as the pretty blue and white saucers in Blaine’s mother’s china cabinet. “You...oh.”

Kurt’s hushed words echo softly against the locker room’s cinderblock walls. Blaine quickly backpedals, his mind suddenly shifting to damage control mode. “I--I’m sorry. I mean, it’s...we don’t have...I just, I kept imagining it, and--”

Kurt shakes his head, cutting off Blaine’s spluttering apologies. “It’s -- it’s okay, Blaine. Really. I just...” Kurt keeps staring at him curiously, as if he’s seeing Blaine in a whole new light. “Oh,” he says again, on an exhale, seemingly at a loss for any other word or thought.

But...he doesn’t look completely repulsed by the idea.

“Is it weird?” Blaine asks tentatively, still treading lightly. “ It’s weird, isn’t it?”

“No.” Kurt’s voice is a quiet, airy breath. “You really wanna do that? You want me to do that to you?”

Blaine nods. “Yeah. I really do.” He gulps, suddenly struck by the fact that his fantasy might possibly become a reality. “Really.”

“Okay.” Kurt chews on his bottom lip, letting his eyes drop from Blaine’s face to his throat. Blaine can feel the heat build inside him again, burning hot, as Kurt’s gaze lingers over his necklace. When Kurt drags his eyes back up, they’re sparkling with intrigue. “Let’s change out of these suits. And then I’ll bring you home?”

***

They’ve never done anything like this before. In the five months since their first sweet, tentative time together, the kinkiest thing they’ve tried is leaving the lights on during sex. And that took them three tries before they could both get through the act without keeping their eyes squeezed shut the entire time. 

“Shouldn’t we have, like, a safe word or something?” Kurt’s back to worrying his lower lip; the motion matches the concerned tone of his voice.

Blaine grins as he locks his bedroom door behind them, shutting out his dark, silent house and enclosing them in privacy. “How about disco?”

The suggestion earns him a half-hearted eyeroll. “Disco. Of course.” Kurt laughs -- a high-pitched, nervous burst of sound.

“Hey.” Blaine meets him in the center of the room, reaching out to place two comforting hands on his arms. “I trust you, you know.”

Kurt nods; he’s still a little shaky, but seemingly more sure than before. “Okay. Just...if it hurts, or you’re afraid--”

“Disco,” Blaine repeats in a steady voice, his gaze level with Kurt’s. “I’ll tell you.”

“Okay.” Kurt stares at him for another beat, then takes a hesitant step forward, erasing the last of the space between them. “But first, I get to do what I want to do.”

“And what’s that?”

Kurt reaches up to Blaine’s neck and snaps open the first tiny button of his polo. “I want to undress you.” Another button falls loose under Kurt’s deft fingers. “Slowly.” The last button goes, along with any semblance of doubt Blaine had about his fantasy. “Until you’re wearing nothing but that necklace.”

“Mmmmm.” A hum slips from Blaine’s lips as Kurt ducks down to place a kiss there, in the hollow just above the golden chain. “Whatever you wa--ohhh...”

His words dissolve when he feels Kurt’s tongue flick into the hollow, wet and liquid hot. It strokes upward once, then again, as if Kurt’s licking his favorite ice cream out of the bottom of a bowl. Kurt lavishes the tiny valley with attention as he tugs Blaine’s shirt up, untucking it from Blaine’s tight denim waistband. Blaine shivers when he feels Kurt’s cool hands slide up his sides to grip the bare skin of his trim waist.

“Kurt...god.” Blaine lifts a hand and presses his palm into the soft hair at the back of Kurt’s head, holding him securely in place against his skin. Kurt’s mouth is relentless -- licking a broad, damp stripe up Blaine’s throat, then lightly scraping back down the curve with his teeth, a little rougher with each pass. A groan tears from Blaine’s chest when Kurt sucks in the hollow again, so hard Blaine’s mind briefly wanders to which bow tie he’ll have to choose in the morning to cover up the purple mark.

Further down his body, Kurt’s hands keep up their constant friction up and down his sides. Each stroke upward sneaks a fraction higher until his shirt bunches under his armpits. Blaine lifts his arms in response, suddenly desperate to shed the layers that separate his skin from Kurt’s.

A brief whine buzzes in Blaine’s throat when Kurt pulls his mouth away to tug off Blaine’s polo and undershirt in one smooth move. The moment the shirts clear his line of vision, Blaine inhales sharply. Kurt’s eyes are a rich, ocean blue, smoldering with arousal in the shadowy room.

“Turn around,” Kurt instructs, his voice light but commanding.

Slowly, Blaine turns his back to Kurt; the weight of his necklace feels heavier than ever against his quickly chilling skin. He hears a tinny clang of metal, then a zipper quickly sliding down. The light thud of Kurt’s clothes dropping to the floor sends a tremble racing up Blaine’s naked back. This is really happening.

His shivers are swiftly snuffed when Kurt’s smooth, bare chest presses against his spine. Kurt’s arms come up to wrap around Blaine’s waist, cocooning him in a loose embrace. His palms splay across Blaine’s belly, moving in aimless circles as his searing lips connect with the back of Blaine’s neck.

Kurt’s tongue slicks upward to Blaine’s hairline and back down again, repeating the same ceaseless motions he’d performed over Blaine’s throat moments ago. Lick up, scratch down, again and again. Hot, wet suction over the knobby bone at the top of Blaine’s spine. Each movement drives Blaine closer to gasping madness. His head droops down, offering Kurt access to every square inch of skin, and his groans echo off his chest.

Through his foggy arousal, Blaine feels the warm, soft stroke of one of Kurt’s hands disappear from his stomach. Moments later, a single finger drags against his gold chain where it rests against the back of his neck. And then, a swift, sharp tug.

All the breath instantly flees from Blaine’s body. He’s caught, rigid, as the chain digs deep into his throat, where air and blood and life flow just under his skin. Simultaneously, his stomach drops to the floor and his cock jerks up.

Holy shit oh god oh god --

“Just testing,” Kurt whispers as he loosens his grasp on the necklace. “How was that?”

Blaine nods frantically. “G-good. Yes. God.” His last word is barely more than an exhale.

Kurt chuckles in his ear. “Sounds like you really liked that.”

“Yeah,” Blaine rasps; his voice is rough with want. He swallows audibly, try to tamp down his adrenaline but only managing to get it lodged in his throat.

Kurt pecks light, tender kisses along the side of Blaine’s neck, trailing from his ear down to the necklace. “Thank you for trusting me, Blaine,” he whispers into Blaine’s skin.

“I trust you with my life, Kurt,” Blaine murmurs, then barks out a sharp laugh. “Literally, I guess.”

He feels Kurt hum a quiet laugh against his skin, his belly quivering against the small of Blaine’s back. Fingers trail down the dusting of hair below Blaine’s belly button until they settle over his fly.

Then their sweet whispers are over.

Blazing heat runs like a waterfall of molten lava under Blaine’s skin, pooling low in his belly, as he watches Kurt blindly unfasten his button and zipper.  As he pushes Blaine’s jeans over his hips, Kurt’s mouth slides down Blaine’s spine until he’s crouching low; his hot breath puffs against the small of Blaine’s back. Kurt clutches Blaine’s shins for balance as he mouths at the waistband of Blaine’s briefs, just above his ass crack.

Kurt’s grip isn’t anywhere near the necklace anymore, but Blaine can barely breathe as his tongue dips under the elastic and down the delicate crevice between his cheeks.

“K-kuuuuu...” Blaine can’t even make out the entire syllable of Kurt’s name -- it’s just a guttural sound that dissolves into a moan.

He feels the edge of Kurt’s teeth scrape along his skin as Kurt bites the elastic and tugs. Two fingers worm their way under his waistband, and then Kurt yanks his briefs down to to meet his jeans, still pooled around his ankles.

Blaine pries his eyelids open -- he’s not even sure when he’d squeezed them shut -- and sees his cock standing straight out in front of him, purple and pulsing. It begs for the touch of Kurt’s velvety grip, of his talented lips -- the ones that have locked themselves on the plump round of Blaine’s ass.

They could do it right here, Blaine realizes. Just like this: standing in the center of his dimly lit bedroom, his knees quaking as Kurt jerks on his necklace from behind and pumps his cock with his other hand, with Blaine bracing himself against Kurt’s bare stomach as he falls, falls...

Blaine quickly pops his bubble of fantasy to fend off the orgasm that threatens to wash over him simply from his own imagination.

“P-p-pl-lease,” he gasps, reaching down and squeezing the base of his cock as his other hand finds Kurt’s. “I’m so close.”

Kurt pauses, then rises from his crouch on the floor. He places both hands on Blaine’s shoulders and begins to walk them toward the bed, guiding Blaine’s feet out of the entrapment of his jeans and briefs along the way. Each time they take a step, Blaine can feel the gentle bump of Kurt’s hard, hot cock, still locked in his briefs.

When they reach the edge of his bed, Blaine dives headfirst onto the cool, soft sheets. As he rolls onto his back, his necklace snakes against his skin, coming to lie flat across the base of his throat. He looks up at Kurt, who’s kicking his own briefs off his leg to the floor. Blaine’s mouth waters as he stares at Kurt’s cock, flushed and level with his face for just a moment before Kurt slides gracefully onto the bed beside him. He lies flush against Blaine’s side and rubs a gentle touch down Blaine’s arm.

Blaine knows Kurt’s giving him a moment to calm down. He needs it; his sex drive is racing, roaring away, down a thrilling, uncharted course.

“Lie on your side,” Kurt says quietly as he leans back and reaches into Blaine’s bedside drawer. Blaine obeys, turning his back to Kurt and propping himself up on his right arm. He stares at the dark green wall and waits, trembling, as he listens to Kurt prowl through his drawer for supplies.

It’s only another moment before Kurt’s pushing, pushing against the back of Blaine’s thighs until his knees nearly bump against his chest. He’s spread wide and exposed to the room’s cool air -- to Kurt’s gaze, his touch, his passion.

A wet, slick finger grazes his hole, probing lightly before snaking lower to stroke over the smooth, sensitive stretch of skin behind his balls. Blaine buries his face in his knees, moaning against his knee cap when Kurt’s finger finally breeches the guarded ring of muscle. 

“So tight,” Kurt whispers into his ear as his finger slowly plunges deeper. They’re both silent, save for the groans that keep tumbling from Blaine’s mouth, as Kurt’s finger drags out, then in again. Out, in. Out, in. On the next thrust inward, a second finger joins the single one, doubling Blaine’s pleasure and the pace of his racing heart.

“Now,” Blaine gasps, hoping through a horny haze that Kurt will finally, finally give him what he’s desperate for.

He does.

The harsh dig of metal into his skin instantly steals Blaine’s breath away. He sucks a noisy inhale through his nose as he feels the tip of Kurt’s sheathed cock poke clumsily against his hole. Kurt slides in slowly, but deeply, until Blaine feels them joined completely.

“Tighter,” Blaine groans, the sound rubbing raw against his airless throat.

“God, Blaine,” Kurt pants in his ear, his own arousal clear in his voice. The pressure against Blaine’s neck constricts further, deeper, sharper.

Blaine’s chest is empty of air but full of want. More, more, more. The thought races through his mind as Kurt brings his palm around to cover Blaine’s cock. Fuck me harder.

His pulse throbs in his cheeks; lighting bolts of exhilaration shoot down his chest to his crotch. He leans his head back, finding the heated hollow of Kurt’s neck and reveling in the aching pleasure of the chain digging deeper into his taut skin.

Blaine’s mouth hangs open, wheezing dry, shallow breaths as he takes it all: the cut of pressure against his throat, the slip of Kurt’s fist over his erection, the pound of Kurt’s cock in and out of his ass. Pleasure points pop and ping through his body. He trembles uncontrollably -- needing air, needing release.

He feels Kurt kiss at the chain that’s embedded in his skin. “Come on, baby. I’m waiting for you.”

It’s all Blaine needs to hear before he’s coming, coming everywhere, spurting over Kurt’s hand and gasping needy little breaths into the air. Behind him, Kurt cries out his own release as he comes inside him, his thrusts growing shallower and shallower.

The piercing grip around Blaine’s throat slowly recedes. Instinctively, he gulps air; the sound comes out as a deathly wheeze. He’s blind, deaf, dumb to the world as he fills his body with breath again; he doesn’t even realize that Kurt has left the warmth of his bed to trash his condom until he sidles back against Blaine’s body.

Blaine isn’t sure how long they lay there, wallowing in the afterglow of sex, of the sensation of Kurt curled against his back with his cool breath light on his shoulder.

“How was that?” Kurt finally asks. His soft voice sounds cautious.

“That was...” Blaine sighs a deep breath; the lingering ghost of sensation is still rough around his neck, a phantom pinch against his skin. “The best ever.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” It had never taken this long for the daze of pleasure to lift from Blaine’s body. “Do you...want to try it?”

“No.” But Kurt’s still fingering, then gently pulling at the necklace. Blaine turns around to catch him eyeing the chain intently.

“What?” Blaine asks.

“Do you think...” Kurt trails off, pursing his lips and biting them. “Do you think,” he tries again a moment later, and when he lifts his gaze Blaine sees it sparkling with curiosity, just like in the locker room that afternoon when Blaine first revealed his fantasy, “the chains would hold if you...if you tied them around my wrists?”

Blaine’s eyes twitch wider. Whenever he thinks he has Kurt figured out, the boy still manages to surprise him.

“I don’t know,” he answers, slowly drawing out the words as he reaches up to unclasp the necklace from his neck. Keeping his eyes locked on Kurt’s, Blaine winds the chain around his index finger and tugs lightly, testing its strength. “But I think we should find out.”

THE END