Kurt tugs on the cerulean ribbon, coercing it into a crisp bow around the white box, humming to himself as excitement pools in the center of his chest and the wind whistles through the trees outside.

Tonight will be fun he thinks as he bends up from beside the bed, gathering the ribbon spool and scissors in one hand while picking up the box in the other.  He glances around the bedroom, checking to be sure that everything he wants is where it should be and makes his way down the hall, past pictures of Blaine’s family and friends to the office. He deposits the scissors in their place in Blaine’s desk drawer and glances around the room, eyes landing on Blaine’s desk calendar.  October 17th.  In less than a year he has found someone with whom he shares everything, who he relies on, and who, he hopes, he will be with forever.

Kurt can’t stop the smile from creeping over his face as he thinks back on the decisions that have led him here.  Coming home for Thanksgiving last year, spending his 30th birthday at home with his oldest friends, trusting Santana to show them a good time at Eclectic, sticking with Blaine during the first month that was so hard being apart when they were first learning each other, and then moving home.  After two months of barely living in his rented Lima apartment he had moved in with Blaine without regret and he had never looked back.  He belonged where Blaine was, and that was it.

They had spent the last eight months learning how to live within each other space, breathing each others’ everyday in and letting their joined life spread out and around them, secure and safe together as one.  They learned each other as lovers, each exploring the way the other became undone, over and under and around, drinking in each others’ skin.  They pushed and pulled the boundaries of one another until each man could delicately unlatch the other’s desires with but a carefully worded whisper or a gently crafted touch.  

Monogamy, it seemed, suited them both.

“Kurt?  Are you coming?” comes Blaine’s voice from downstairs.

“I’ll be right down - go ahead to the car, okay?” he yelled back.  This was perfect.  Blaine would be out of the house so he could just leave his present right where he wanted it to be when they got back from the club.  Kurt turned from the desk, eyes alight with mischief, and prepared to enjoy his evening as he descended the stairs.

***
The club is bustling as it always is on Sunday nights when the walls are swathed in white linen and the chef is serving up prime rib.  The piano player tonight is Brad, a long time friend of Blaine's, and his melodies are a perfect backdrop for the gentle murmur of the assembled guests.

Tonight they are celebrating Kurt.  Artie, Brit, Santana, Finn, Harmony, Elora, Burt, and Carole all sit at the table, laughing and celebrating.  The surface is littered with dishes; appetizers, main, and desserts all having been consumed, as well as vases full of orchids to celebrate the successful run of Kurt’s first show AND the purchase of his next one.  Kurt has not been idle while living here and his hard work has paid off.  He is rapidly becoming a well-known playwright and Blaine could not be more proud.

The theme of the dinner had been Santana’s idea. She called it “fun and games” and informed everyone that they HAD to participate.  Elora found this delightful and took over the white board that Santana had provided with a flourish and they started with Hangman, everyone laughing and picking on each other if and when their little stick figure was hung while munching on appetizers and laughing.  After that they had moved on to truth or dare, with Elora scheming to get her dad to run up to the stage and give Brad a kiss on the cheek.  Luckily Brad had been used to their shenanigans for years and just kept right on playing as Blaine and Kurt collapsed with giggles at their table.

Now, though, everyone is stuffed and Santana has called for the last game of the evening - telephone.  Kurt laughs, his smile making his eyes shine and Blaine’s tear up because he is so in love with this man and everything he is and he knows that all the choices he has made in the last 11 months have led him to this moment.

They begin with phrases, each pulled from a plastic dish that Santana has provided; starting at a different person every time.  Finn whispers in his wife’s ear, who then whispers to Elora and the message travels all the way back to Artie who turns to Kurt’s brother and questions, “Fuzzy Wuzzy was a Woman?”  Finn’s eyes squint and his laugh bounces around the friendly circle as he says, “bear.  BEAR.  Who changed it to woman?  It was you, wasn’t it San?”

“Oh, you know I can never resist a woman,” she replies, smirk playing at the corners of her mouth as Brit leans over to lovingly kiss her cheek.

Everyone smiles as Blaine pulls the last sheet of paper from the container.  He turns to Brit, his expression unreadable to Kurt, who is sitting on his other side, and whispers in her ear.  Her eyes widen and she turns to Santana who smiles grandly before passing on the message to Artie.  Artie looks to Kurt and beams before whispering to Finn, who nods knowingly before passing on the message to Harmony.  Elora is next, who giggles and whispers into her grandfather’s ear.  Burt looks to Blaine with such fondness and love that now Kurt has started to wonder what he will hear from Carole to cause such a commotion as Carole leans in to his ear to whisper softly.  Her words make Kurt still and turn to Blaine quickly, his who body thrumming with a question...just one question that will change his whole life.

Blaine is no longer sitting beside him.  Instead he is down on the floor...on...on one knee, actually, and he is waiting with a small black box.  The cover of the box is open and inside there is a small silver gleam, diamonds embedded in platinum that are reflecting the dimmed lights of the club.  

Blaine’s amber eyes glow, looking into Kurt and searching, hoping for the answer he so desperately wants as his teeth slightly worry at his bottom lip.  

Softly he finds his voice.

“Well Kurt, what was the message?”

Kurt exhales, realizing that he had forgotten to breathe, and he smiles widely even as his voice shakes in answer.

“Will...” Kurt begins, clutching his sides as he hugs himself in excitement, “...will you marry me?”

Blaine chuckles, low and deep as he replies, “Yes, that’s what the question was.  The thing I want to now is...will you?  Marry me, Kurt?”

Kurt quickly drops down to his knees beside Blaine and holds him close, arms encircling Blaine’s waist, dropping his chin to Blaine’s shoulder to murmur in his lover’s ear,”Yes.  All the yes that ever was.  I am yours.  You know that.”


He pulled back from Blaine and was inundated by the soft emotions radiating from his handsome features. His face held the perfect mixture of elation and adoration before Kurt felt his chin pulled gently forward and his lips being kissed as a fiance for the first time and he can hear his family whistling and cheering behind them.  

***

“Kurt, what is this?”

Kurt had taken his time getting out of the car. He was looking at his ring, the way it shone under the interior car lights. And the garage lights. And the mud room lights. It was beautiful in any light, really.

At Blaine's voice, though, he jerked his head up, remembering his careful planning from earlier in the night. Well shit, he thought, I can't believe that I completely forgot about that.

Blaine was standing at their kitchen table, stripping himself of his coat jacket, and looking curiously at the white box with its blue bow shimmering. He moved to touch it and Kurt stopped him with his voice.

“Blaine, wait,” he said, quickly moving to the table and putting his hands over Blaine's. Blaine eyed him curiously and waited for an explanation. Kurt lifted his ringed hand and slowly stroked Blaine's jawline and he leaned into the touch, placing soft, gentle kisses to Kurt's palm.

“It seems that you had your plans for the evening, “Kurt breathed, staring pointedly at the ring resting on Blaine's cheek, “And I...I had mine. I truly believe you will like what's in that box, considering our...conversations in the past few months. But-”

Blaine didn't wait for Kurt to finish his thought before quickly removing the package from its bindings and swiftly lifting the lid, Kurt scrabbling at his hands and laughing aloud.

Blaine stared into the box, a grin slowly stealing over his features, and then flicked his eyes to Kurt's as his partner continued.

“Oh my GOD, Blaine! As I was saying, BUT...you might want something more sweet and...delicate between us tonight...and...well, I don't want to say loving because this...these...are still a way of loving me. Loving me loving you.” Kurt finished, color rising to his cheeks, his fingers slightly trembling with nervousness.

Blaine's eyes never left Kurt's as he lifted Kurt's hand and gently pressed the fingertips of it to his own lips, once, twice, before trailing them down the sharp angles of his chest and stomach and stopping to rest on the bulge in his elegantly tailored pants.

Kurt felt his eyes widen before settling his smile into an amused smirk as he gently squeezed that which was now his to forever touch.

“So what I'm getting from this is that I picked a good present for you.” he said, still gently sliding his hand over Blaine through his trousers.

Blaine's eyes clothes briefly, exhaling loudly through his nose, before replying. “I'll see you upstairs in fifteen minutes? I'm going to have a shower and, you know, prepare some things.  You too?”

Kurt licked his lips and replied, “Of course. Till then.”

Blaine grabbed the box and sprinted upstairs as Kurt laughed to himself at his eagerness.

Perfect present, he thought as he made his way toward the downstairs bathroom, stripping of his socks as he went.

***

Kurt exhaled, both nervous and excited, as he pushed open the door to the bedroom he shared with Blaine. Soon after he had moved in they had relocated to the master bedroom as Kurt had reorganized and redecorated, choosing new pieces of furniture and drawing attention to the room's centerpiece: the old-fashioned looking mahogany and iron bed. Kurt had taken time and care to choose this particular bed as it included both wood and metal accents.  Strung between the posts at both the head and the end of the bed were multiple spindles of wood and bars of iron.  It was both breathtaking and overwhelming to behold but neither man had found it to be too much for them.  Kurt was quite proud of it, actually, and he found that it would suit his needs quite well on this night.

The lights were low as he entered, smile stretching his features. His eyes rest on the bed, whose ebony sheets had been turned down by his own hand hours before, a small bottle of warming lubricant sitting at the end like an invitation.

Not that I’ll need a lot of it after that shower... Kurt thought to himself before he was cut off mid-thought by gentle yet firm hands on his hips, holding him securely from behind.

“Did you find your shower satisfactory?” Blaine whispered, tongue brushing the soft flesh of Kurt’s ear.

“Yes,” Kurt replied into the growing tension of the room.  He focused his senses on the empty space between their bodies, shared heat meeting and multiplying exponentially between them.  Kurt felt himself begin to harden as he anticipated Blaine’s next move; breath shortening, skin ablaze.

“Do you feel prepared for this, Kurt?” Blaine asked, his lips now sliding over Kurt’s shoulders, languidly leaving a molten trail across his back.  Everywhere his lips landed, Kurt felt his body respond with wantwantwanttouchmeohgodplease.  Instead of this, though, he replied, “In more ways than one.”

Blaine chuckled darkly against his back, his fingers finally trailing up Kurt’s ribs, teasing, torturing.  He could feel the weight of his present in Blaine’s right hand as it wandered; the cool sting of metal as Blaine made his way up and over Kurt’s shoulder blades before reaching in front of Kurt and delicately twining the thin - oh, so very thin - leather collar around his neck and fastening it around Kurt’s neck.  The simple band’s lone attachment - a silver brushed steel ring about an inch in diameter - hung between his clavicles, inviting Blaine to touch.  Kurt shivered as he felt Blaine drag his fingertips to the front of his body, squarely placing one hand on the center of his chest the other curling fingers around and through the steel, pulling gently.

When Blaine spoke again he was in Kurt’s ear, achingly hot.

“Mine.” he breathed as Kurt shuddered, his knees betraying him.

***

Since the incident on the couch Kurt and Blaine had made love multiple times, had sex just as much, and fucked for sure.  Kurt had started to categorize their sexual relationship as such because he found that in a monogamous relationship the sex changed from encounter to encounter, depending upon the mood and the desires each man had at the time.  The experience on the couch had sat with both Blaine and Kurt for a few months before either of them had stated that it was incredibly alluring to be owned and taken (Kurt) and to be the taker and possessor (Blaine).  

They realized that they had both been worried in turn that the other would believe it was a dominance thing or perhaps an interest that the other might not share.  When Kurt had finally broached the subject in July, Blaine had exhaled in relief and adamantly wanted to try it again.

And of course they did, talking each other through it and peeling back another layer of their relationship; their love for one another.  Finding new facets of each others’ sexuality together as one.

***

Blaine led Kurt to the bed by the ring and used it to push him down to a sitting position in front of him.  Kurt looked up, lips parted, need etched on his upturned face.  

“Such a beautiful mouth,” Blaine murmured, tugging twice on the ring in question.  Kurt groaned in his throat and surged forward, taking Blaine into his throat as he shuddered and grasped the ring tethering them together.  Kurt moaned low at Blaine’s tugs, the collar forcing the rhythm Blaine needed. He watches Kurt take him over and over, faster and deeper, Kurt’s breathing keeping time with his hips; little groans and sighs escaping through his parted lips as they followed the same course over and over, driving Blaine to the brink.  

“Fuck Kuuuurt,” Blaine whined, high and breathless as he pulled Kurt back and away, hips bucking, grasping the base of his cock with his free hand to still the pleasure threatening to envelope him.

Kurt watched him from below his lashes, color high on his elegant cheekbones, bloodred lips swollen with use and groaned low in his throat, erection straining to be touched.  He reached down to abate some of the pressure but Blaine was on him, using both hands to pull him roughly up the bed, close to the headboard, climbing over him.  Kurt found himself with a face full of Blaine’s chest and he used this as an excuse to attack the nipples there, licking, teasing, nipping at the sensitive skin, nosing his way across the tiny hairs that bordered them.  

Blaine groaned, grinding his cock into Kurt’s thigh, as he pulled Kurt’s wrists together and bound them in the simple wrist restraints that had been nestled in the box with Kurt’s collar.  Black and thin, with metal connectors in the middle that attached to a ring clipped securely to the bar of their bed.  Soon enough Kurt found himself stretched out below Blaine, hips bucking, cock buried deep in Blaine’s eager mouth while his hand stretched up Kurt’s body, tugging with just enough pressure at Kurt’s neck with each swallow of his throat.  

Kurt, blind with need, is immobile from the chest up and being held down, owned, steeped in Blaine’s possession.  He whined and bucked his hips, begging to be free, to touch Blaine, guide him, make him move faster, slower, any way that was his to choose.  

“I need to touch you Blaine...I neeeeed...Blaine, please...fuck, fuck, oh my GOD...yes, fuck, no... suck me...fuuuck...”

He lifted his hips from the bed, aching for more, for release, but Blaine just chuckled low in his throat and pushed him back down, sliding Kurt’s cock between his lips slowly with torturous drag, watching Kurt fall apart beneath him.

Blaine pulled off, Kurt muttering darkly about “fucking cockteases...” above him and retrieved the lube from the foot of the bed.  

“Turn over,” Blaine growls, tugging the collar as Kurt maneuvers his body, using his elbows to drag his body closer to the rungs of the headboard, pushing until he is up on his forearms and knees, hands still trapped, ass exposed and cock hot and hard between his legs.  He is shaking, trembling with crushing, consuming appetency.  But fuck does he need Blaine’s cock...and Blaine is above him, twisting and turning the collar until the ring is resting on the nape of Kurt’s neck; whispering his delicious dirty desires into his ear as he pushes his fingers into Kurt.

Blaine works him open quickly, finding that Kurt had indeed prepared for this, moving from one to three fingers in but a few moments, Kurt keening, arching into the touch, the brush of Blaine’s fingertips deep inside making him impossibly harder.  The room is filled with the sound of Kurt’s begging, aching to be fucked, to be owned by his lover, fiance, best friend.

“Do you want me,” Blaine whispers, breath ragged and voice barely controlled, “No...do you NEED me inside you?  Taking what’s MINE?”

“Yes, Blaine, fuck, anything, please...just...oh my god, just fuck me,” Kurt gasps, broken and needy.

With that Blaine pulls his hands quickly from Kurt and pushes inside him, giving no time for warning, no time for adjustment or temperance.  The was full-blown fucking, taking, an affirmation of the hunger they share each and every day for each other, between glances at meetings and touches during dinner; mixed with whispered ‘I love you’s’ and gentle kisses goodnight.  This was their desire laid bare and it was exquisite and astounding, rocking and barely able to breath in the face of its beauty. It made Blaine’s eyes prickle and his heart pound faster, beating out the staccato of Kurt’s name over and over, bleeding out into his veins.  This is what pure blinding love feels like.  This, oh this.

Blaine pulled Kurt up, needing to feel skin-to-skin, his cock wrapped in the tight white-hot heat of Kurt, hips barely moving, hitting Kurt’s core over and over, his moans echoing through the room, begging to come.  Blaine quickens his pace, inspired, arms circling Kurt’s waist, reaching forward and taking the ring between his teeth, metal tinging out the beat of his cock as he buries himself over and over, his name hitting the walls as Kurt chants it, begging for release.

He moves his hand swiftly to Kurt’s cock, pumping once, twice, and Kurt yells out, boiling over and onto their sheets and Blaine hears and climbs higher, closer, removing his mouth from the ring at Kurt’s neck, repeating, “mine, mine, so fucking mine”  over and over as Kurt comes down and just moans, face buried in the sheets, allowing himself to be fucked wide open as Blaine comes, Kurt’s name stretched thin through the halls and down the stairs.

Blaine shakes over Kurt, overwhelming emotion overtaking him as he unlatches and unhooks his fiance from their bed, his fingers smoothing and stroking at the reddened skin there.  Kurt twists in his grip, bringing his fingers up to delicately unlatch the collar, dropping it to the floor as Blaine reaches for the soft, moistened washcloths that are already beside them on the stand, reverently sliding, stroking, cleaning Kurt of anything that would make him uncomfortable before turning attention to himself as well.

Kurt snuggles down deep into Blaine, pulling the covers close as their heartbeats slow and their breathing evens.

“Blaine?” he murmurs, one more thing to say before sleep steals away with their consciousness for the night.

“Mmm?” comes the sleepy reply, Blaine already so close to the edge of his dreams.

Kurt pokes him, willing his eyes to open, the last piece of his puzzle needing to be placed.

Blaine opens his eyes, warm and deep with love, and whispers, “What my love?  What do you need?”

“Shhh...just one more thing,” Kurt replies, smiling, sated, “Open the drawer and get what’s there for me, okay?”

Blaine’s eyes narrow, smile pulling on the corners of his mouth as he moves, twisting his body to open the bedside table drawer.

He gasps.

A dark band of tungsten, etched with tiny specks of amber, sits alone in the drawer.

He picks it up, turning to face Kurt, whose face is luminous in the pale light.

“Yes, I will marry you,” says Kurt, as Blaine slips on the ring and brings his hands to Kurt’s face, his lips to cherish that which is his.