“O-kay …” Kurt hums, settling lower in his chair, legs spread and a pen in his hand as he considers the next clue, “48 across. Strut one’s stuff. Six letters.”

Kurt does actually try to figure it out himself. Even distracted, he’s pretty good at the crossword puzzle. But it takes literally only a second before his sub’s fingertip against his thigh spells out the word - s … a … s … h … a … y.

“Hmm, good boy,” Kurt moans, sloppily writing the word with his right hand while the fingers of his left bury into Blaine’s curls, urging him up and down over Kurt’s cock. Kurt looks at his own crooked, wobbly handwriting, and smirks. If their roles were reversed and this was Blaine’s handwriting, he’d get a spanking.

Kurt raises an eyebrow. A spanking. That might be a nice addition to this morning ritual. Cock worship, coffee, and the New York Times crossword puzzle are Kurt’s favorite way to start the day. But a spanking is a good idea any time. Blaine can spank Kurt first, and if he does it right, Kurt will return the favor.

“44 across. Another word … mmm, God, pet! Slow down just a little … another word for relax. Six letters.”

Again, Kurt only has to wait a moment before Blaine writes out on his thigh in clear block letters for his Dom to pick up without too much concentration – l … o … o … s … e … n. Blaine doesn’t miss a beat while he writes, swiping his tongue along Kurt’s slit and then continuing his way down with lapping strokes. Kurt doesn’t know if it’s the athlete in Blaine or the musician, but it’s almost as if Kurt’s sub is two separate people – one concentrating on blowing him, the other figuring out the answers. The fact that it is, in fact, one person, that it’s Blaine, fills Kurt with a never ending pride and an unquenchable desire for this all of the time.

Kurt is pretty sure he could spend whole days like this, naked in this very chair with Blaine on his knees, sucking him off, while they burn through every crossword, word jumble, and Sudoku in the paper. Blaine is way too good at this. That mouth of his should come with some sort of warning. Kurt didn’t have to train Blaine how to do this to his liking; he just knew.

“23 across,” Kurt says with a shaky swallow. They’re only about halfway done, but Kurt knows he’s not going to last too much longer. Before they started doing the crossword together like this, Kurt could make it till the end, finish the crossword completely before he gave himself permission to cum. But combining doing the crossword with Blaine’s help with this incredible blow has turned into an exercise in restraint … one that Kurt has discovered he isn’t exactly good at. “Bireme or trireme tool. Three letters.”

That one stumps Blaine, but he doesn’t stop his worship. He doesn’t let one thing slip for the other. The strength of Blaine’s discipline, his integrity, makes Kurt weak.

This they stumbled on by accident. At the start of their relationship, Kurt’s morning ritual consisted of cock worship, coffee, and doing the crossword puzzle alone. But while Blaine was sucking his Dom’s balls into his mouth one by one in that relaxing way that Kurt enjoys, Kurt was muttering over a clue he just couldn’t decipher. Blaine took a chance, and wrote the word on Kurt’s thigh (the way he’s doing now – o … a … r).

It wasn’t Blaine being disobedient. Tapping on Kurt’s thigh with his finger when he’s in distress is Blaine’s safe signal when he has his mouth filled with his Dom’s cock. It’s a way for them to communicate when Blaine can’t speak. And from the slightly apprehensive way he scratched out that first word, Kurt knew Blaine wasn’t trying to act superior. He wanted to help, the way Blaine always does.

It was Blaine being Blaine, and that’s what made it so sexy.

“Bassoon part in t-two pieces,” Kurt stammers, his control slipping as he slides further down in his chair. “Four letters.”

He feels his sub chuckle deep in his chest so that it rings up to the back of his throat as he writes the word r … e … e … d, probably because that one is so easy for him, a giveaway considering he plays the oboe. Or it could be because he managed to make Kurt stutter. Kurt logs that away. He’ll consider what he wants to do with that little sliver of misbehavior later.

“Alright …” Kurt scratches Blaine’s scalp as Blaine takes Kurt completely down his throat. Kurt sits still when Blaine does this, careful not to ruin his boy’s singing career with a stupidly impatient thrust or a wrongly timed buck. “This one’s … fuck! … this one’s a thinker. 13 down. Take a chance. Eleven let---…”

Before Kurt can even finish, Blaine has the word written out on Kurt’s thigh – o … p … p … o … r … t … u … n … i … t … y.

“Fuck!” Kurt groans, fingers winding in Blaine’s hair as he cums. He curls in his chair when it hits him, muscles spasming so that he has to give over and ride the wave. “God!” Kurt pushes his sub off his sensitive cock when he hears Blaine choke. Blaine has rehearsals in a couple of hours. Kurt doesn’t need Blaine coughing up cum in the middle of belting out Midnight Radio. He shoos Blaine back, silently commanding him to a spot a few feet away to kneel quietly while Kurt recovers. “Jesus,” Kurt mutters, carefully tucking back into his pants, “that’s just … your intelligence … it’s just so fucking hot.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Blaine says, sitting back on his heels as he waits to be dismissed. “I’m glad to be of service, Sir,” he adds so as not to sound too vain.

“However,” Kurt adds, watching a slight twinge of fear on Blaine’s lips since Kurt never follows up their morning sessions with anything but praise, “I’m beginning to think that the crossword puzzle might be getting a little too easy for you. Perhaps we should add a level of difficulty. A humbler, perhaps?”

That twitch on Blaine’s lips can’t seem to decide between becoming a smile or a frown as Blaine imagines himself forced to his knees with his balls in a vice clamped behind his thighs.

“Well, I’ll have to give it some thought while you clean up,” Kurt continues. “Go take your shower, pet. You have a big day ahead of you.”

“Yes, Sir.” Blaine rises to his feet. “Thank you, Sir.” He heads slowly towards the bathroom, obviously thinking about the possibility of a humbler in his near future because he walks with his knees locked and ass clenched, taking stiffer steps than usual. Kurt chuckles to himself, privately enjoying this confliction in his submissive, which he’ll let last for a few moments longer before he interrupts Blaine’s shower to give him his final decision.

Take that, Blaine Devon Anderson. Ten points off for chuckling.