They didn't talk about Dildo Incident again. But it was always there, in the back of Kurt's mind. And sometimes, usually when he was with Blaine, in the front. Glaring at him with its capital-letter importance. Because how could he ignore the things Blaine had hinted at, the things both of them had outright said? But on the other hand, it just didn't feel right to open up a conversation about kinky sex when they were watching a movie or studying in the library or after a raucous glee club practice. Really, the time to discuss sex was when they were having sex, but then when they were finally alone and naked, the having always seemed to take precedence over the discussing.

Also, Kurt really thought it was Blaine's responsibility to bring it up. And Blaine clearly thought the opposite. Which left them, at a kind of stalemate. Not a bad stalemate. It wasn't like they weren't doing all kinds of exciting, breathtaking things with each other. Kurt loved their sex, whatever shape it took. It was just that every once in a while, out of the blue, Blaine's words would pop into his head – beg you . . . belong to you . . . take what you tell me to take – and when they did something twisted deep in his core, a kind of longing he'd never felt before. But it was ephemeral and unshapen; there was never a thing that he could say he wanted to do or try. He tried to put the longing into words, but for one of the few times in Kurt's life, words wouldn't cooperate.

And he and Blaine had always been more about action anyhow.

“How many more?” Blaine's voice had the whining edge of exasperation.

“One less than when you asked me that question two minutes ago. Let me finish, Blaine.” Kurt kept his eyes firmly on his trig book open on his desk in front of him, ignoring Blaine's fidgety bouncing on the bed behind him.

“I think when two people, two boyfriends, get together to study, and one of them finishes, the least the other can do is stop studying too, so they can be not studying together.”

Kurt sighed and abandoned his trig problems to swing his chair around facing the bed and the boy reclining on it. “I have carefully planned everything I have to do tonight,” he said, ticking items off on his fingers as he spoke. “Trig homework, you, dinner, Project Runway, assembling my outfit for my glee solo tomorrow.”

Blaine propped himself up on one elbow and batted his eyes, trying to look alluring and, Kurt had to admit, not exactly failing. “There's no one else home. And I have to leave by six. It makes much more sense for you to do me now, and put off the homework until after Project Runway.”

“Which will then cut into my very important outfit-planning time.”

“So your outfit planning gets more of your time than I do? I think you need to reevaluate your priorities.”

“I don't know who you think you've been dating all this time, but it's a solo, Blaine. One of the very few I've miraculously be been able to tear out of Rachel's hands. And yours.” He raised an eyebrow pointedly in Blaine's direction. Blaine pouted back. “I've told you before, actual performance is at most seventy-five percent of the overall effect. Style is crucial.”

Blaine's lips moved along with Kurt's words, parroting the statement. Kurt glared at him and spun back to his desk. “You can mock me,” he said, “but you know as well as I do that if I'm not in the right outfit, I won't be able to perform at my peak.”

“I'm not mocking you,” Blaine said from behind him, his voice suddenly deeper than usual – Blaine's version of seductive. “I just wish you'd come over here and perform at your peak for me.”

Blaine's version of seductive had an immediate effect on Kurt's body, if not on his brain. He viciously squashed the hopeful stirring. “Four more problems, Blaine. Distract yourself. Find a book to read or something.”

Blaine sighed dramatically, but rolled off the bed and began to putter around the room, turning his attention, for the moment at least, to Kurt's shelves full of knick-knacks and mementos. Kurt turned his own attention back to his inverse tangents. He made it all the way through one problem before Blaine decided to take matters into his own hands. Hands which fell unexpectedly on Kurt's shoulders and began to massage.

“Three more. Three more problems. Can you just . . . Oh. Oh God that's good . . .”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Kurt had never realized a hum could sound that self-satisfied. Blaine had characteristically zeroed in on his Achilles heel. Long fingers, fingers strengthened by years of piano practice – and God bless whoever had decided to start little Blaine on those music lessons – pulled and pushed with absolute precision, attacking with knowledge born of experience all the places where Kurt hid his tension. No one could resist those hands. They could accomplish in minutes what it would take hours of yoga to achieve. It felt much too good; Kurt had no choice but to surrender. He closed his eyes and moaned as his muscles began to warm and stretch under Blaine's sure fingers.

This had been the most surprising thing about having Blaine for a boyfriend. More surprising than the companionship or the romance or even, if Kurt was being honest, the sex. Blaine loved to care for him. And Kurt, who had never really had anyone care for him, not like this, since his mom had died, discovered that it was so much better than his normal strict self-reliance. Blaine brought him tissues if he sniffled, folded his collar back in place if it twisted during a dance practice. He made Kurt's favorite cookies and was always willing to play for him to practice, and he did this with the practiced ease of a professional massage therapist, whenever Kurt seemed even the slightest bit tense. Kurt knew he had to put a stop to it – just three more problems and he could give Blaine his full attention – but it wouldn't hurt to just enjoy it for a minute or two, right? After all, it always seemed to make Blaine so happy.

But Blaine was way ahead of him and just when Kurt was about to pull the plug he spun Kurt around and with a move that was much more graceful than it should have been, straddled the chair and landed on Kurt's lap, looking distinctly proud of himself.

“That was amazing. Thank you,” Kurt said, partly because it was and partly because he knew how the praise would make Blaine's eyes sparkle. He wasn't disappointed.

“Now don't you think I deserve a reward for taking such good care of you?” Eyelashes batted shamelessly over those sparkling eyes and fingers twined behind Kurt's neck.

But Kurt was not going to be that easily distracted. “Three problems. Then I'm all yours.”

Blaine pouted, though his eyes were still smiling, and he rocked forward, pressing himself against Kurt's abs so there wouldn't be any question about the level of his arousal. “This is your fault. All those sounds you were making got me hard. You can't just leave me hanging now!”

Kurt grabbed his hips and pushed him gently but firmly backward. “I can and I will. I didn't tell you to give me a massage. I told you to read.”

“And I decided I wanted to do something more fun. Maybe I need to do that again.” Blaine considered for a moment, then his fingers attacked the button of Kurt's fly. He pushed it through the hole and was scrabbling for the zipper tab before Kurt managed to stop him.

“I said, no!” Kurt pulled Blaine's hands away, twisting them behind Blaine's back and holding tight, so there was no chance of escape.

But Blaine didn't try to escape. Instead he went still, his eyes stretching wide and his lips falling open in surprise before they pulled wide into an even bigger grin. Kurt stared at him. Blaine was pinned; he couldn't move. So why did he look like he'd unquestionably won?

“Be good,” Kurt told him. He tried to sound commanding but he was pretty sure it came out more pleading than anything.

Blaine smile didn't falter at all. He leaned closer. “What if I don't want to be good?” he offered.

It was Kurt's turn to gape a little. Blaine was still smiling, but there was more, he looked so . . . avid, was the only word that came to mind. And a little breathless. Like he was taking a step he hadn't really meant to, fueled by Kurt's words and tight hold on his wrists. And Kurt wanted to play along, of course he did, but he also needed to finish the trig or his whole schedule would be thrown off and who knew what impact that might have on his performance tomorrow? Meanwhile Blaine was looking at him with so much expectation and hope that Kurt couldn't bear to disappoint him.

Then inspiration struck.

“Be good, or I'll have no choice but to . . . punish you,” he said at last, and he could feel himself blushing as he pushed out the last two words. Blaine didn't seem to mind, though. He inhaled sharply, which was enough to assure Kurt that he was more than okay with this turn of events.

Golden eyes blazing he moved in like he planned to kiss Kurt, but turned aside at the last moment, so that his lips brushed Kurt's ear. “What if I want to be punished?” he whispered, and somewhere between the words themselves and the hot breath tickling Kurt's ear as Blaine said them, Kurt's own cock decided to screw self-control and just join the party.

Blaine straightened, and Kurt watched him carefully but saw only arousal and excitement. “Then I guess you can go stand in the corner and watch me until I decide you've learned your lesson.” This time his attempt to sound strict succeeded.

Blaine pouted again, but it was obvious he was getting exactly what he wanted. When Kurt released his hands he kept them where they'd been, clasped against the small of his back. Without taking his eyes off Kurt he stood up and walked slowly backwards and kept going, away from the desk. He moved, slowly, provocatively, until he met the wall then slid between it and Kurt's dressing table to wedge himself in the corner. And there he stood, hands still clasped, rocking his hips forward and back just so there could be no doubt about how this was affecting him.

Going back to his homework was one of the hardest things Kurt ever had to do, especially when Blaine gave a quiet but thoroughly wanton whimper as Kurt turned away. But he forced himself to do it. And he forced himself to work carefully through those last three problems, to give them his full attention and ignore the fact that the numbers had to shove aside the memory of Blaine on the bed whispering his dildo fantasy in order to make their way to the page. He didn't look up, not once, though he could feel twin spots of heat on the back of his neck where Blaine's eyes were fixed. And indeed, when the final answer was neatly (and hopefully correctly) written, and Kurt finally turned back around, Blaine still waited, watching Kurt and gently thrusting into the air.

He'd had some vague idea about continuing the punishment theme, but with Blaine looking at him like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to eat Kurt alive or to be the one getting devoured, Kurt decided there were much more pressing things to do. Like get his mouth on Blaine's as soon as humanly possible. He crossed the room in two long strides and practically crushed Blaine back against the wall, and Blaine had just enough time to murmur “Thank God,” before he met Kurt with equal fervor. Their mouths pressed together and their tongues twined in the middle like old friends meeting after years apart. Their hands tore blindly at each other's clothes, fighting through buttons and zippers, clumsy with haste to reach bare flesh.

“You were so hot,” Blaine managed between kisses, “with the hands and the punishment, oh my God Kurt . . .”

“What about you? “Maybe I don't want to be good?'”

“It worked for you, didn't it?” Blaine grinned under Kurt's mouth.

Kurt spun Blaine away from the wall and pushed him toward the bed, shoving how own jeans down as he went. Blaine did the same, and he'd barely managed to right himself before Kurt pounced. They fell in a tangle, laughing and kissing. Blaine's hands were trapped between their chests, and although his attempts to free them made his body wriggle against Kurt's in the most enticing manner, Kurt didn't want him to be uncomfortable so he pushed up just enough to catch Blaine's hands and pull them free. Then, well, Kurt wasn't sure if it was the sheer momentum of their bodies or some unconscious design on one of their parts, but Blaine's hands kept going, all the way above his head, with Kurt's entwined with them, pushing them down against the mattress.

“Ooh. There you go again,” Blaine breathed, and he was smiling, and his smile was beautiful and his cock was hard against Kurt's so Kurt kissed him again, tasting his excitement in the trembling of his lips and the needy thrust of his tongue. He could kiss Blaine forever, but they didn't have forever, and their cocks rutting against each other felt amazing but he didn't have quite enough leverage, stretched out as he was, to find the rhythm they needed. And a little lube would be perfect, just enough to facilitate the slide. He let go of Blaine's hands and reached for the drawer where he kept his sexy stuff.

“Hey, no, where are you going? I liked that.” Blaine wiggled his fingers, just so there wouldn't be any confusion about specifically what he liked.

Kurt fished the lube out of the drawer and shoved it closed. “I like it too, but if I'm holding your hands down I can't really do anything else.”

The idea hit Blaine first. Kurt saw something dawn in his eyes, then darken them, then his lips pulled into an almost pucker as he stared expectantly at Kurt. Who had no idea what he was expecting. Until he wiggled his fingers again, above his head, where his wrists were still crossed as if they'd been bound in place. When Kurt still didn't seem to understand he rubbed his wrists against each other, a strange motion that sort of looked like he was pulling against . . .

“Oh!” Kurt exclaimed as the light bulb went on, blindingly bright, and then, “Oh?”

“Only if you want to,” Blaine said and eyes belied the calm in his voice.

“Do you want to?” Kurt stared at Blaine, trying to gauge exactly where this was going.

“Well I really liked it, when you were holding me. And it's not like we haven't talked about this before.”

“We have?” Kurt felt like his brain had turned to molasses. Blaine was asking to be tied up. He was quite sure Blaine had never asked to be tied up before.

“Sure, the other day, with the dildo? You said you'd tie me up.”

“Blaine, you were giving me a blow job. I can't be responsible for anything I said.”

“Then you don't want to tie me up?”

“No!” Kurt jumped to correct him. Then, realizing how that could sound, “I mean, yes. I mean,” he took a deep breath to try to salvage at least some of his control, “I'm willing to try it if you are.”

Blaine nodded. “I am. I really am.” This time his eyes and his voice matched in intensity.

“Okay,” Kurt nodded hard, then kissed Blaine swiftly, just to reassure them both that this was good. “What should we . . . I mean, I don't have any rope or . . .”

“Kurt. You have the most extensive scarf collection in the state of Ohio.”

“Right.” Kurt nodded a little frantically. “You're right.” He hopped off the bed and pulled open the bottom drawer of his dresser, where he kept his least important scarves. From the bed Blaine wolf-whistled when Kurt bent over to rummage in it.

“Idiot,” Kurt tossed back at him. He stared into the drawer. How was he supposed to decide what scarf was appropriate for tying up his boyfriend for the first time? He had no experience with this. How was he expected to know what would be comfortable? Safe?

“Just pick one Kurt. I can hear you freaking out from over here.”

“Fine.” He plunged his hand in and grabbed at random, coming up with a wide strip of acid green silk. It didn't occur to him until he was halfway back to the bed that it was a spectacularly unsexy color. By then, going back would have been silly. Besides, Blaine was sitting up and Kurt could see his chest rising and falling with his sharp breathing and he didn't look like he cared one bit what color the scarf was. He only seemed to care that it was, and in Kurt's hands coming toward him.

Kurt climbed onto the bed and sat on his knees facing Blaine. He let the scarf fall to the comforter between them. Blaine watched him, expectantly, but didn't move and didn't speak.

“Are you really sure about this?” Kurt said, when he couldn't bear the quiet. His grasp on the conversation wasn't exactly perfect and he had to be certain he wasn't pushing Blaine into anything he didn't want.

“So sure,” Blaine said without hesitation. “Really. But if you think it's too much . . .”

“No. It's not too much. It's just, new, you know.”

“Totally.” Blaine smiled at Kurt. “But think of all the things you'll be able to do with me when I'm at your mercy.” He picked up the scarf and held it out to Kurt, still smiling.

Kurt took the scarf. “We can stop at any time. You can say . . . red. That's the safe word. Like stop lights. Or just ‘untie me.' You can just ask and you know I'll –”

Blaine pressed a hand over Kurt's mouth. It was warm and steady, and that, more than anything, reassured him that Blaine really wanted this.

“You're babbling now. Just do it.”

He took his hand away and crossed his wrists, in front this time, holding them out for Kurt. Kurt kissed him again, extra-gently, then began to wind the bright silk around Blaine's wrists. He felt oddly detached as he did it, like he was outside himself watching the fabric loop in green figure eights against Blaine's skin. When he'd finished and tied the ends in a neat bow knot, he looked up he found Blaine watching not his own wrists but Kurt, with a fixed intensity. Something new took shape in the space between them, in the way Blaine looked at him and, Kurt was sure, in the way he was looking back. They'd stumbled into a new place, unexplored but fascinating, and for a moment each waited for the other to take the first step deeper into the unknown.

“I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do now,” Kurt confessed.

In response, Blaine shifted until he could lay back on the pillows again, lifted his bound hands over his head, and spread his legs wide on either side of Kurt. “Whatever you want,” he said, like an invitation. “That's the point.”

But what came to Kurt's mind with Blaine displaying himself so easily for Kurt's enjoyment, wasn't his own desires but Blaine's words. The one's he'd confided to Kurt before, spread out in much the same way, with a neon blue dildo on the bed beside him.

I think about your voice – how it sounds when you tell me I'm beautiful.

“You look incredible like that. It's possibly the hottest thing I've ever seen. Which is a pretty big deal because I didn't think anything could be hotter than just you, naked,” Kurt said, and he breathed a sigh of relief when Blaine's smile deepened and he wriggled a little, making his cock bounce against his belly.

I think about how it feels when you kiss me right here.

Kurt leaned forward, aiming at first for Blaine's neck. But the parted lips just above it, flushed red with arousal, were irresistible so he detoured to nibble at them first. He could feel Blaine's body relaxing under him, their combined weight pushing him deeper into the mattress. He returned Kurt's kiss eagerly at first, but as his sighs and moans became more drawn out his lips softened too, falling open to Kurt's exploration and taking more than he gave.

Kurt kissed Blaine until his fingers were flexing and clenching in his bonds and his hips pumped, helplessly beyond his control. Only then did he move on, licking at the thin skin of Blaine's neck, sucking the point of his Adam's apple, and working the spot under his ear that made Blaine cry out and bite at his swollen bottom lip.

If Blaine was in heaven, Kurt was in, well, heaven with free couture and infinite sheet music. Tying Blaine's hands seemed to heighten everything. The tiniest brushes of fingers or tongue made him squirm and gasp; more purposeful caresses drew cries and shudders. It was already the most erotic thing Kurt had ever seen or done and he still hadn't gotten below Blaine's neck.

Blaine's voice was still in his head, egging him on. I think about your tongue on my nipples . . .

He bent lower now and dragged his tongue over Blaine's left nipple, flicking as the tip passed the already hard point of it. Blaine shouted, and his chest pushed up off the bed, begging for more. So Kurt obliged, sealing his lips around it for one long, hard suck.

Sound failed Blaine, but his body spoke louder than ever, shaking against Kurt as the sensation built and deepened. His hips went wild, pushing his damp cock against Kurt's in thrust after thrust. When Kurt finally broke off, Blaine opened his eyes and stared at Kurt, looking for all the world like a wild creature, caught, tied and tortured with pleasure.

“Oh my God, Kurt. I've never felt anything like that. Please don't stop. Never stop. Please. Please.”

Kurt giggled, feeling a little high and dizzy with success. He bent to Blaine's right nipple and began to work it as well, teasing this time with little nips and licks, while his fingers toyed with the over-sensitive left.

Kurt enjoyed nipple play, but Blaine was wild for it and he writhed under Kurt, rubbing their cocks together in abrupt slides that had no rhythm to them at all but still managed to be effective. Kurt could already feel his orgasm starting to build, but it wasn't quite enough. It wasn't what he wanted.

“Stop, stay still,” he said, lifting his head from Blaine's chest.

Blaine stared at him with an unfocused softness in his eyes. “I don't know if I can,” he gasped.

“Blaine.” Kurt tried to put more authority in his voice, as if it was a command. “Stay still.”

Like a little miracle Blaine obeyed, falling back onto the mattress, not moving a muscle. Kurt wanted to sing; Blaine's compliance made him feel, powerful, yes, but that wasn't exactly the right way to say it. Strong. Strong for both of them. The bondage put everything in his hands. Blaine couldn't seek out what he wanted. Anything he felt – any pleasure he experienced – was because Kurt was able to give it to him. He lay gasping and watching Kurt with pleading eyes, like Kurt was the god of orgasms and Blaine was praying with all his might to win his god's favor.

Well if Kurt was going to be a god he wanted to be a benevolent one. So he grabbed the lube, squeezed a little bit onto his hand, and slicked his own cock just enough. Then he lowered himself back down onto Blaine and began to slide.

“Oh, oh God, yes. Thank you.” Bondage apparently brought out the babbler in Blaine. He moaned and gasped, thank you'd and please'd, as Kurt thrust their cocks against each other in beautiful strokes of heat and slickness.

“Don't move,” Kurt reminded Blaine when his hips lifted off the bed. “Let me do it.”

“Anything. Anything. Just don't stop.”

Kurt had no intention of stopping. He rocked faster, harder, but no matter how it built Blaine obeyed him and stayed still, head thrown back on the pillow, letting Kurt set the pace. Blaine's obedience just pushed Kurt higher, and as Blaine's cries pitched up Kurt could tell it was killing him not to thrust back but he didn't, he held fast and that made Kurt's own pleasure peak with almost unbearable intensity. Orgasm struck him hard, barreling through his balls and the small of his back, pushing out to spill on Blaine's hot flesh, and with a cry Blaine followed him, still not moving, trusting Kurt to keep pushing against him to guide him, shuddering, through his own pleasure. Blaine came with a sound Kurt had never heard him make before.

After what seemed like forever, Kurt fell on top of Blaine, spent, but when he started to roll away and take some of his weight off the gasping body under him Blaine's legs wrapped tight around his and held him firmly in place. “Stay,” Blaine said between panting breaths, “I like it.”

Kurt stayed. He held Blaine down until every little tremor stilled and his breath slowed to a normal pace of inhale and exhale. He could feel the exact moment that Blaine needed him off and he moved before Blaine could ask, exulting in his awareness even as he grimaced at the squelch as their come-stuck bodies separated. He pushed onto his knees between Blaine's legs and reached for the ends of the bowknot securing Blaine's wrists.

Blaine still looked a little dazed, but when his hands were free he sat up and cupped Kurt's cheek. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Shouldn't I be asking you that?”

Blaine shrugged. “We both went someplace new. I was just the one who got tied up. But that doesn't mean you don't need as much TLC as me.”

The words seemed to unlock something inside Kurt and he fell into Blaine's arms, trembling a little as Blaine held him and stroked along his spine, up and down, kissing Kurt's shoulder, his neck, anything he could reach.

“I'm not freaking out,” Kurt told him, but he didn't move because Blaine's arms made him feel safe and he liked feeling safe.

“I know,” Blaine murmured. “You're processing. I did kind of spring that on you.”

“But I liked it. I really did. And you were perfect.”

Blaine pushed back enough to look at Kurt, flashing him the patented Blaine shining heart eyes. “You were everything. And later we can debrief and examine and draw conclusions but right now I only have you till six o'clock and I just want to lay here and cuddle, if that's okay with you.

“Perfectly okay. See, aren't you glad I finished my trig? Now I can cuddle with a clear conscience.”

“Yes. You were right. You're always right,” Blaine allowed as he laid back down and pulled Kurt with him. They were both messy but Kurt was determined to ignore it and give Blaine what he wanted. He pillowed his head on Blaine's chest and caressed down Blaine's arm to hold his hand.

“I do have one regret,” he said, planting a little kiss on Blaine's chest next to his reddened nipple.

“Regret?”

“I had to pick the ugliest scarf I own to tie you up with. Now it has sentimental value and I can't ever get rid of it.”

He felt more than saw Blaine turn his head and study the strip of glaring green. “I love that that scarf. It's my favorite scarf in the history of scarves.”

“Stop it,” Kurt laughed.

“I'm serious. In fact, I think that should be the official Bondage Scarf –”

“We're not calling it that.”

“– and you can wear it to school and every time I look at you all I'll be able to think about is –”

Kurt shut Blaine up with an emphatic kiss. Because there was no way he was wearing that hideous scarf no matter what it reminded Blaine of. But Blaine kept talking around the kisses.

“– being helpless and naked and at your mercy –”

Although the color of the scarf, terrible as it was, would complement the tiny leaves on his brown cardigan.

“– you having your way with me and making me beg –”

And his new eggshell Hugo Boss dress shirt that looked perfect with the cardigan.

“– you have no idea what that would do to me all day –”

But pants. He didn't have a single pair of pants that would go with the shirt and the sweater and that scarf. So that was that.

“– by the time school was out I'd be so desperate I'd probably try to rip your clothes off in the car.” Blaine, apparently done for now, rolled them over so that he was on top of Kurt and kissed him properly, but as much as Kurt loved having Blaine's tongue in his mouth, there was really only one thought in his head.

He was going to need to buy some new pants.