Velvet Petals, Piercing Thorns - Chapter Twenty, Part Two
Title: Velvet Petals, Piercing Thorns - Chapter Twenty (Prologue+20/23)
Media: Fic
Author: a_glass_parade
Beta: mothergoddamn
Rating: Rated R to NC-17
Pairing: Klaine endgame, bumps along the way.
Genre: Romance, AU, Historical Fiction
Warnings: This is essentially a romance novel set in a violent time. There will be, throughout the story, sexual liaisons, murder, torture, bondage, sexual blackmail, and political incorrectness.
Spoilers: While events and references from both seasons of Glee may be adapted and worked into the story occasionally, it's otherwise fully AU.
Word Count: Story: 116,000+ This Chapter: 6000+
Summary: England, 1484-85: The forces of Lancaster see Edward Blaine Anderson, Viscount Dalton, as key to their plans to retake and hold the throne of England. Allies of the House of York have come to the same conclusion and want to stop that from happening. Their secret weapon will be Kurt Hummel, stableman's son and reluctant spy.
Additional Notes: This is written in the vein of your typical historical romance novel with all the historical liberties taken that you'd expect. I do try to be as historically accurate as is feasible, though. There are some historical and some original characters that interact with the characters we know.
If you haven't read any of this before, you can start HERE to read it on LJ or HERE to read it on AO3.
“See something you like, Blaine?” But rather than the playful tone that should have delivered the line, Kurt's voice was bitter and distant, touched with frost and fire alike. It bit at Blaine's conscience and heart with the sharpness of a snake's fangs. To hide his embarrassment and anger, Blaine turned away to make a production of placing the pitcher back on the floor.
In his moments of calm, Blaine knew well that Kurt had been used for his sinister purpose. Over the last two days, he had at last read all of the letters and it was clear that the other man had been most unwilling to cooperate, even his action in retaining the letters as evidence being an act of defiance against the selfish men who had threatened his father and forced him to act against his nature. In fact it was the letter retention itself, rather than the contents of them, that told Blaine more than anything of Kurt's intentions. He had clearly hoped to prove his relative innocence if caught or if he found the strength to reveal himself.
And of course, Blaine knew well, Kurt would have never, ever wanted to bring harm to Amelia.
But he so nearly had, his protective heart seethed, and it was this coupled with how close he'd come to disrupting the Lancastrian efforts to take the throne that had kept the fires of Blaine's anger burning. The conflicts between his temper and his desperate love for Kurt had kept him awake ever since he'd imprisoned the man, the madness of all of it making him sometimes feel as if he were drowning.
“Blaine...” The dry, plaintive whisper, all trace of arrogance gone now, snapped Blaine out of the looping chaos of his thoughts and drained away his ire. He leaned forward, straining to hear. “Blaine, what will you do with me?”
Since he knew in his heart that Kurt had been nothing but honest with him since everything had blown up, Blaine could only return that honesty now. “I don't know.” He met Kurt's heartbreakingly sorrowful gaze head on, taking a deep breath. “Not yet.”
Kurt nodded, biting at his lip. “You can't keep me here forever.”
“But I have to know where you are for the next several months,” Blaine admitted. “You must see that, even if you don't know entirely why you are here.”
Alarm widened Kurt's eyes, streaked through his voice and cracked it as he spoke. “You would hold me in this cell for months?” Tension rolled off of Kurt in waves, filled the tower thick enough to lay its acrid taste on Blaine's tongue. He hated himself for causing it.
“What would you have me do? I cannot take you to Crawford. I don't entirely trust you not to run back to Huntingdon, even if only to try and save your father - if they catch you...” He shook his head and swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. There was something Kurt did not yet know, that Blaine dreaded to tell him. “Yet I cannot have you disappearing and...Kurt, please. As much as anything else, I do this for your own safety."
“I can take care of my--”
Blaine spoke up and over the heated insistence, desperate to convey to Kurt how dire the situation had become. “Kurt, Noah Puckerman was killed in his bed the same night that I found out about all of this.”
At this, Kurt's knees appeared to buckle beneath him, and only flinging out his hands to grab at the iron bars of his prison kept him from collapsing completely to the ground. “Oh, my God.”
“That was how you and your St. James passed letters back and forth, wasn't it? Through Noah.” Blaine shook his head. “So simple, yet in hindsight so obvious, now. All of those letters to your father...”
“Those were real,” Kurt replied, his eyes fixed on his hands. “I sent a letter to St. James every time I sent one to my father.” He sucked in a breath. “Oh, Rachel, poor Rachel. Poor Noah.”
“Whoever did it didn't touch Rachel, so she and the baby are fine. She's staying with the town laundress at the moment, though I'm going to see that she gets safe passage back to her family in Portugal soon - she wants to be with them.” Everyone was trying to talk the pregnant woman out of the strenuous sea journey, but in her understandable hysteria - and general stubborn nature, Blaine thought but never once said aloud - she refused to listen. She wanted to be as far away from where she'd woken up in a pool of her husband's blood as possible, and he couldn't really blame her.
“Whoever did it - I know who did it,” Kurt snapped, uncharacteristic venom coloring his voice. “Now there's even more reason for you to let me have at St. James, Blaine! After all he's done, I owe him a painful death!”
His lover's destructive need to fling himself headlong into danger finally managed to unhinge Blaine. “Damn it, Kurt, why won't you listen to me? I will not take the chance of losing you at the hands of a madman!”
The unexpected words erupted out of him with a force so stunning that it wasn't until the echoes had died away that he realized he had bolted forward and seized Kurt's hands where they were wrapped around the cell bars.
They were touching for the first time in two days, tempers and emotions flagging high between them. And Kurt was standing there half naked, water still gleaming in damp spots here and there on his skin, dispelling all rational thought and leaving Blaine with an impossible decision: which did he want to do first, lick and suck at each spot and work his way down, or proceed directly to unlacing Kurt's hose?
Or perhaps simply start with a kiss and go from there?
As if entranced, Blaine moved to yank the key to the cell out of his pocket, unlocking the cell to throw the door open and stride right up to Kurt, pushing him up against the wall. When Kurt gasped in surprise, Blaine took the opportunity to lean up and claim his mouth in a primal kiss.
One hand he clasped to the back of his lover's neck, the other reaching between them to palm Kurt's cock under the hose. When groans of pleasure tumbled out of Kurt's mouth at the erotic contact, Blaine greedily swallowed them down. He vaguely felt Kurt's hands grabbing at his arms, trying to pull him closer despite the physical impossibility of it.
He broke off the kiss to whisper hot into Kurt's ear. “I need you to know, Kurt, that you drive me completely mad.”
“The sentiment is mutual,” Kurt rasped, pulling back to reveal eyes with pupils so wide, only the smallest ring of the dark blue that signaled his desire was visible. He threaded both hands through Blaine's curls and dragged him forward to return the searing kiss with interest, biting down a little more sharply than usual, pulling Blaine's hair a little harder, urgency and a lurking sense of dominance waiting for its chance tasting of darkness in Blaine's mouth.
He suddenly felt as if this might get out of hand, the intensity between them sparking higher than it ever had before. Too, he felt that he welcomed it, that it was the only kind of release that could snap the tension that had been between them in these last days. When Kurt licked his way down to nip at Blaine's ear, pointed and lingering, he felt he was almost ready to burst.
So it was both surprise and gratitude that Blaine felt when Kurt whipped them around so that it was Blaine against the wall, and then with another twist he was flipped around to face it, his palms slapping into the stone to protect him from the impact.
“Do you ever,” Kurt growled into his ear, “feel the need to let someone else take the lead, Blaine?”
He turned his head to the side just enough for Kurt to see his smirk. “Are you offering?”
In the next instant, any desire he had to continue his backtalk disappeared in a gasp when Kurt's fingers made their way up under his doublet and shirt, pushing the fabric up until he could pinch and twist Blaine's nipples with a new sharpness that shot straight to his groin.
“I was thinking,” came the low reply, “that I'd just go ahead and take it.”
Blaine felt his head roll back onto Kurt's shoulder as his lover made quick work of the fastenings on his doublet, discarding it and bringing his hands back to dispose of the shirt beneath with equal efficiency. He felt chilled for a moment, just a brief hitch in time until Kurt's chest pressed warm up against his back, deft hands unlacing his hose and thrusting in together to alternate firm squeezes around his cock.
As the waves of pleasure broke over him, Blaine's knees felt as though they'd give way. Clutching blindly at the wall, the sound of metal on stone stirred a memory, an idea - he blinked away the fog of desire to see that they were up against the wall with the shackles for difficult prisoners. In a flash he was reaching for them, the heavy iron clanking as he wound their icy heft around his wrists and gripped tight to hold himself up.
“Jesus Christ,” Kurt breathed, backing away for a moment and leaving Blaine bereft. “I can't...I have to have you now, Blaine - if you could see -”
“But I didn't bring anything,” he groaned, resting his forehead against the stone.
A throaty chuckle made him glance back over his shoulder. Kurt was in the corner rummaging through his beltpouch. “You didn't take anything off of me when you locked me in here,” he replied, pulling a slender vial from the little bag. “And I've been carrying this around...”
Confusion made Blaine furrow his brow. “Whatever for? We've almost always been where we had access to what we needed...”
“Because I liked to take it out and sniff at it sometimes,” was the surprising response. “The scent of it...it reminds me of you.” The sweet aroma of almonds wafted to Blaine's nose as Kurt slipped the vial into his hand where it was wrapped around the chains. “A moment, if you will.”
He felt his hose lowered to his knees, and a rustling a moment later let him know that Kurt did the same. The vial was removed from his fingers. “I'm sorry, Blaine, I can't wait long enough to get your boots off,” he heard while warm, slick oil was rubbed into the cleft between his buttocks, relaxing and lubricating the entrance there. “I need you...”
“I want you to have me,” Blaine assured him, his voice only hitching slightly with need. His erection was pressed close to the cool stone wall, straining and already leaking with his desire. He couldn't keep back a gasp as Kurt's finger slipped inside of him, moving so gently against his inner walls. “Kurt...”
“Not much longer,” Kurt soothed, his own angelic tones rough around the edges. “Two, now.”
Another finger slid in, pulling up a whimper that felt like it had had to travel from his feet in order to make it out. It had been so long since he'd been on the receiving end of such attention, and he'd gotten so used to taking the lead role in bed with Kurt...he had almost forgotten the pleasure of the intrusion, the sweet slight pain and pressure of the stretch.
A third oil-slick finger had him catching his lower lip between his teeth and groaning. “Kurt, please, now,” he ground out, pushing back against his lover's hand, forcing the fingers deeper. “Now, now, I can't, I need...”
“I've got you,” came the assurance as Kurt's free hand slipped between his body and the wall to tug at his cock, slow, languid pulls that would have brought Blaine to his knees if the chains hadn't continued to hold him up. The rough iron was biting into his wrists, but he didn't care, the sting kept him just aware, just able to not lose himself completely into the haze of lust that threatened to engulf him with one of Kurt's hands on his cock and the other buried deep within him.
Even with that control, Blaine was nearly at his end when Kurt's hands came away and finally, finally he felt the head of Kurt's member pressing slow and warm at his entrance. Gripping the chains tight, Blaine raised himself up just a little before sinking back down, taking Kurt into himself a tiny, agonizing bit at a time.
“Eager, are we?” Kurt's laugh was smoky, his breath hot on the back of Blaine's neck. “Didn't I tell you I've got you, Blaine?”
“Please...”
Inch by inch, Kurt pressed his way inside of Blaine and then stood there, hands on Blaine's hips while he filled him to his limit and let him grow accustomed to the long-forgotten feeling.
A huffed breath finally let Blaine know that Kurt was almost as undone by their role-reversal as was he. “This is...”
“Amazing,” Blaine strangled out, his fingers tightening around the chains until they went cold from the blood restriction. “Kurt, move.”
“I don't want to,” Kurt groaned back. “I won't last, Blaine - the sight of you - the feel - I'm too close already.”
He lifted himself up by the chains again, just a bit, feeling Kurt slipping backwards within him - and then Blaine shoved back down onto Kurt's cock, an incoherent shout of satisfaction ripping out of him as he did. Behind him, Kurt groaned hard and dug his fingertips into Blaine's hips, bracing him in place while he began to thrust in and out, slow pulls out and sharp snaps of his pelvis.
The steady pace couldn't last long with the two of them so close, and Kurt's movements rapidly began taking on an arrhythmic quality, whines and moans spilling out of his mouth as he shoved harder. “Close -” he muttered, and Blaine could hear his teeth clenched together - “- so close, too close -”
Blaine sunk his teeth into his own arm to stifle his own sounds of pleasure, the guttural low growls threatening to become shouts that would attract too much attention. Even so, when Kurt reached back around with his slippery fingers to begin stroking Blaine's erection to climax, he had to let go and throw his head back, leaning again on Kurt's shoulder as his body was rocked by his lover's thrusts, unable to keep back a single long cry of release as he went over, his seed bursting from his cock and painting the stone wall in sticky streaks.
As if the strangled howl had been a signal, Kurt climaxed then, the heat of his desire spilling high into Blaine in spurts, his own high pitched gasps of pleasure muffled in the skin of Blaine's sweat-slicked shoulder.
The night's silence descended as they came down, Blaine sagging in his bonds to lean back against Kurt, to feel his slowing heartbeat against his back and hear his ragged breathing in his ear. The welcome sensations lulled him into a half-doze despite his shoulders suddenly beginning to protest their unusual position.
So limp with relief and languid pleasure was he that Blaine hardly noticed when Kurt gently withdrew, moving to fetch the cloth and pitcher of water so that he could clean the both of them up. It was with tenderness that Kurt resituated their hose and slowly, carefully, with kisses to each stiff finger and scraped wrist, extracted Blaine from the iron shackles wrapped around his arms. Blaine felt the love in every gesture and motion and knew then that any lingering doubts he had were gone.
He would defend this man against anything, anyone. It was the only reward for a heart that anyone could see was nothing but fierce and loyal to those he loved, even as they hurt him and disbelieved him. How could Blaine do anything less?
“I love you, Blaine,” Kurt murmured, pressing his lips to Blaine's in a sweet kiss before helping him back into his shirt. Blaine allowed himself to be guided down to the floor of the cell, where Kurt curled up around him and wrapped them both in the blanket from the cot. “I love you so much, and I'm so sorry for everything that's happened.”
Blaine shook his head, snuggling closer and breathing in the smell of Kurt, of sweat and sex and sharp summer air coming through the window opening. “We'll figure it out, Kurt...we'll have to.” He lifted Kurt's hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of it before shifting up to take Kurt's lips in another one. “I love you, too, Kurt. I love you, and I'm sorry, and I forgive you. I will make sure everything is going to be all right for you and everyone else, even your father.”
“Well, isn't this sweet,” drawled a languid, syrupy voice laced with poison - a voice that didn't belong to Kurt, that was coming from the top of the stairway. Both men snapped their eyes open to gaze in shock at the sight of a tall, broad-shouldered man in unrelieved black velvet standing there, chestnut curls tumbling over his stone-cold blue eyes.
A derisive smirk twisted his mouth up on one side as he watched them taking in the sight of him, watched the horror and realization dawn on them when he dragged Amelia out of the shadows behind him and pressed her back up against his chest, holding her still as he traced the tip of his dagger over the pale skin of her throat.
“Jesse St. James at your service,” he announced, knotting his gloved hand into a large clump of Amelia's curls, making her cry out in pain. “I found this pretty thing up much too late wandering the corridors and I thought I'd bring her up here to see if anyone knew where she belonged.”
...Chapter Twenty One...
Media: Fic
Author: a_glass_parade
Beta: mothergoddamn
Rating: Rated R to NC-17
Pairing: Klaine endgame, bumps along the way.
Genre: Romance, AU, Historical Fiction
Warnings: This is essentially a romance novel set in a violent time. There will be, throughout the story, sexual liaisons, murder, torture, bondage, sexual blackmail, and political incorrectness.
Spoilers: While events and references from both seasons of Glee may be adapted and worked into the story occasionally, it's otherwise fully AU.
Word Count: Story: 116,000+ This Chapter: 6000+
Summary: England, 1484-85: The forces of Lancaster see Edward Blaine Anderson, Viscount Dalton, as key to their plans to retake and hold the throne of England. Allies of the House of York have come to the same conclusion and want to stop that from happening. Their secret weapon will be Kurt Hummel, stableman's son and reluctant spy.
Additional Notes: This is written in the vein of your typical historical romance novel with all the historical liberties taken that you'd expect. I do try to be as historically accurate as is feasible, though. There are some historical and some original characters that interact with the characters we know.
If you haven't read any of this before, you can start HERE to read it on LJ or HERE to read it on AO3.
“See something you like, Blaine?” But rather than the playful tone that should have delivered the line, Kurt's voice was bitter and distant, touched with frost and fire alike. It bit at Blaine's conscience and heart with the sharpness of a snake's fangs. To hide his embarrassment and anger, Blaine turned away to make a production of placing the pitcher back on the floor.
In his moments of calm, Blaine knew well that Kurt had been used for his sinister purpose. Over the last two days, he had at last read all of the letters and it was clear that the other man had been most unwilling to cooperate, even his action in retaining the letters as evidence being an act of defiance against the selfish men who had threatened his father and forced him to act against his nature. In fact it was the letter retention itself, rather than the contents of them, that told Blaine more than anything of Kurt's intentions. He had clearly hoped to prove his relative innocence if caught or if he found the strength to reveal himself.
And of course, Blaine knew well, Kurt would have never, ever wanted to bring harm to Amelia.
But he so nearly had, his protective heart seethed, and it was this coupled with how close he'd come to disrupting the Lancastrian efforts to take the throne that had kept the fires of Blaine's anger burning. The conflicts between his temper and his desperate love for Kurt had kept him awake ever since he'd imprisoned the man, the madness of all of it making him sometimes feel as if he were drowning.
“Blaine...” The dry, plaintive whisper, all trace of arrogance gone now, snapped Blaine out of the looping chaos of his thoughts and drained away his ire. He leaned forward, straining to hear. “Blaine, what will you do with me?”
Since he knew in his heart that Kurt had been nothing but honest with him since everything had blown up, Blaine could only return that honesty now. “I don't know.” He met Kurt's heartbreakingly sorrowful gaze head on, taking a deep breath. “Not yet.”
Kurt nodded, biting at his lip. “You can't keep me here forever.”
“But I have to know where you are for the next several months,” Blaine admitted. “You must see that, even if you don't know entirely why you are here.”
Alarm widened Kurt's eyes, streaked through his voice and cracked it as he spoke. “You would hold me in this cell for months?” Tension rolled off of Kurt in waves, filled the tower thick enough to lay its acrid taste on Blaine's tongue. He hated himself for causing it.
“What would you have me do? I cannot take you to Crawford. I don't entirely trust you not to run back to Huntingdon, even if only to try and save your father - if they catch you...” He shook his head and swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. There was something Kurt did not yet know, that Blaine dreaded to tell him. “Yet I cannot have you disappearing and...Kurt, please. As much as anything else, I do this for your own safety."
“I can take care of my--”
Blaine spoke up and over the heated insistence, desperate to convey to Kurt how dire the situation had become. “Kurt, Noah Puckerman was killed in his bed the same night that I found out about all of this.”
At this, Kurt's knees appeared to buckle beneath him, and only flinging out his hands to grab at the iron bars of his prison kept him from collapsing completely to the ground. “Oh, my God.”
“That was how you and your St. James passed letters back and forth, wasn't it? Through Noah.” Blaine shook his head. “So simple, yet in hindsight so obvious, now. All of those letters to your father...”
“Those were real,” Kurt replied, his eyes fixed on his hands. “I sent a letter to St. James every time I sent one to my father.” He sucked in a breath. “Oh, Rachel, poor Rachel. Poor Noah.”
“Whoever did it didn't touch Rachel, so she and the baby are fine. She's staying with the town laundress at the moment, though I'm going to see that she gets safe passage back to her family in Portugal soon - she wants to be with them.” Everyone was trying to talk the pregnant woman out of the strenuous sea journey, but in her understandable hysteria - and general stubborn nature, Blaine thought but never once said aloud - she refused to listen. She wanted to be as far away from where she'd woken up in a pool of her husband's blood as possible, and he couldn't really blame her.
“Whoever did it - I know who did it,” Kurt snapped, uncharacteristic venom coloring his voice. “Now there's even more reason for you to let me have at St. James, Blaine! After all he's done, I owe him a painful death!”
His lover's destructive need to fling himself headlong into danger finally managed to unhinge Blaine. “Damn it, Kurt, why won't you listen to me? I will not take the chance of losing you at the hands of a madman!”
The unexpected words erupted out of him with a force so stunning that it wasn't until the echoes had died away that he realized he had bolted forward and seized Kurt's hands where they were wrapped around the cell bars.
They were touching for the first time in two days, tempers and emotions flagging high between them. And Kurt was standing there half naked, water still gleaming in damp spots here and there on his skin, dispelling all rational thought and leaving Blaine with an impossible decision: which did he want to do first, lick and suck at each spot and work his way down, or proceed directly to unlacing Kurt's hose?
Or perhaps simply start with a kiss and go from there?
As if entranced, Blaine moved to yank the key to the cell out of his pocket, unlocking the cell to throw the door open and stride right up to Kurt, pushing him up against the wall. When Kurt gasped in surprise, Blaine took the opportunity to lean up and claim his mouth in a primal kiss.
One hand he clasped to the back of his lover's neck, the other reaching between them to palm Kurt's cock under the hose. When groans of pleasure tumbled out of Kurt's mouth at the erotic contact, Blaine greedily swallowed them down. He vaguely felt Kurt's hands grabbing at his arms, trying to pull him closer despite the physical impossibility of it.
He broke off the kiss to whisper hot into Kurt's ear. “I need you to know, Kurt, that you drive me completely mad.”
“The sentiment is mutual,” Kurt rasped, pulling back to reveal eyes with pupils so wide, only the smallest ring of the dark blue that signaled his desire was visible. He threaded both hands through Blaine's curls and dragged him forward to return the searing kiss with interest, biting down a little more sharply than usual, pulling Blaine's hair a little harder, urgency and a lurking sense of dominance waiting for its chance tasting of darkness in Blaine's mouth.
He suddenly felt as if this might get out of hand, the intensity between them sparking higher than it ever had before. Too, he felt that he welcomed it, that it was the only kind of release that could snap the tension that had been between them in these last days. When Kurt licked his way down to nip at Blaine's ear, pointed and lingering, he felt he was almost ready to burst.
So it was both surprise and gratitude that Blaine felt when Kurt whipped them around so that it was Blaine against the wall, and then with another twist he was flipped around to face it, his palms slapping into the stone to protect him from the impact.
“Do you ever,” Kurt growled into his ear, “feel the need to let someone else take the lead, Blaine?”
He turned his head to the side just enough for Kurt to see his smirk. “Are you offering?”
In the next instant, any desire he had to continue his backtalk disappeared in a gasp when Kurt's fingers made their way up under his doublet and shirt, pushing the fabric up until he could pinch and twist Blaine's nipples with a new sharpness that shot straight to his groin.
“I was thinking,” came the low reply, “that I'd just go ahead and take it.”
Blaine felt his head roll back onto Kurt's shoulder as his lover made quick work of the fastenings on his doublet, discarding it and bringing his hands back to dispose of the shirt beneath with equal efficiency. He felt chilled for a moment, just a brief hitch in time until Kurt's chest pressed warm up against his back, deft hands unlacing his hose and thrusting in together to alternate firm squeezes around his cock.
As the waves of pleasure broke over him, Blaine's knees felt as though they'd give way. Clutching blindly at the wall, the sound of metal on stone stirred a memory, an idea - he blinked away the fog of desire to see that they were up against the wall with the shackles for difficult prisoners. In a flash he was reaching for them, the heavy iron clanking as he wound their icy heft around his wrists and gripped tight to hold himself up.
“Jesus Christ,” Kurt breathed, backing away for a moment and leaving Blaine bereft. “I can't...I have to have you now, Blaine - if you could see -”
“But I didn't bring anything,” he groaned, resting his forehead against the stone.
A throaty chuckle made him glance back over his shoulder. Kurt was in the corner rummaging through his beltpouch. “You didn't take anything off of me when you locked me in here,” he replied, pulling a slender vial from the little bag. “And I've been carrying this around...”
Confusion made Blaine furrow his brow. “Whatever for? We've almost always been where we had access to what we needed...”
“Because I liked to take it out and sniff at it sometimes,” was the surprising response. “The scent of it...it reminds me of you.” The sweet aroma of almonds wafted to Blaine's nose as Kurt slipped the vial into his hand where it was wrapped around the chains. “A moment, if you will.”
He felt his hose lowered to his knees, and a rustling a moment later let him know that Kurt did the same. The vial was removed from his fingers. “I'm sorry, Blaine, I can't wait long enough to get your boots off,” he heard while warm, slick oil was rubbed into the cleft between his buttocks, relaxing and lubricating the entrance there. “I need you...”
“I want you to have me,” Blaine assured him, his voice only hitching slightly with need. His erection was pressed close to the cool stone wall, straining and already leaking with his desire. He couldn't keep back a gasp as Kurt's finger slipped inside of him, moving so gently against his inner walls. “Kurt...”
“Not much longer,” Kurt soothed, his own angelic tones rough around the edges. “Two, now.”
Another finger slid in, pulling up a whimper that felt like it had had to travel from his feet in order to make it out. It had been so long since he'd been on the receiving end of such attention, and he'd gotten so used to taking the lead role in bed with Kurt...he had almost forgotten the pleasure of the intrusion, the sweet slight pain and pressure of the stretch.
A third oil-slick finger had him catching his lower lip between his teeth and groaning. “Kurt, please, now,” he ground out, pushing back against his lover's hand, forcing the fingers deeper. “Now, now, I can't, I need...”
“I've got you,” came the assurance as Kurt's free hand slipped between his body and the wall to tug at his cock, slow, languid pulls that would have brought Blaine to his knees if the chains hadn't continued to hold him up. The rough iron was biting into his wrists, but he didn't care, the sting kept him just aware, just able to not lose himself completely into the haze of lust that threatened to engulf him with one of Kurt's hands on his cock and the other buried deep within him.
Even with that control, Blaine was nearly at his end when Kurt's hands came away and finally, finally he felt the head of Kurt's member pressing slow and warm at his entrance. Gripping the chains tight, Blaine raised himself up just a little before sinking back down, taking Kurt into himself a tiny, agonizing bit at a time.
“Eager, are we?” Kurt's laugh was smoky, his breath hot on the back of Blaine's neck. “Didn't I tell you I've got you, Blaine?”
“Please...”
Inch by inch, Kurt pressed his way inside of Blaine and then stood there, hands on Blaine's hips while he filled him to his limit and let him grow accustomed to the long-forgotten feeling.
A huffed breath finally let Blaine know that Kurt was almost as undone by their role-reversal as was he. “This is...”
“Amazing,” Blaine strangled out, his fingers tightening around the chains until they went cold from the blood restriction. “Kurt, move.”
“I don't want to,” Kurt groaned back. “I won't last, Blaine - the sight of you - the feel - I'm too close already.”
He lifted himself up by the chains again, just a bit, feeling Kurt slipping backwards within him - and then Blaine shoved back down onto Kurt's cock, an incoherent shout of satisfaction ripping out of him as he did. Behind him, Kurt groaned hard and dug his fingertips into Blaine's hips, bracing him in place while he began to thrust in and out, slow pulls out and sharp snaps of his pelvis.
The steady pace couldn't last long with the two of them so close, and Kurt's movements rapidly began taking on an arrhythmic quality, whines and moans spilling out of his mouth as he shoved harder. “Close -” he muttered, and Blaine could hear his teeth clenched together - “- so close, too close -”
Blaine sunk his teeth into his own arm to stifle his own sounds of pleasure, the guttural low growls threatening to become shouts that would attract too much attention. Even so, when Kurt reached back around with his slippery fingers to begin stroking Blaine's erection to climax, he had to let go and throw his head back, leaning again on Kurt's shoulder as his body was rocked by his lover's thrusts, unable to keep back a single long cry of release as he went over, his seed bursting from his cock and painting the stone wall in sticky streaks.
As if the strangled howl had been a signal, Kurt climaxed then, the heat of his desire spilling high into Blaine in spurts, his own high pitched gasps of pleasure muffled in the skin of Blaine's sweat-slicked shoulder.
The night's silence descended as they came down, Blaine sagging in his bonds to lean back against Kurt, to feel his slowing heartbeat against his back and hear his ragged breathing in his ear. The welcome sensations lulled him into a half-doze despite his shoulders suddenly beginning to protest their unusual position.
So limp with relief and languid pleasure was he that Blaine hardly noticed when Kurt gently withdrew, moving to fetch the cloth and pitcher of water so that he could clean the both of them up. It was with tenderness that Kurt resituated their hose and slowly, carefully, with kisses to each stiff finger and scraped wrist, extracted Blaine from the iron shackles wrapped around his arms. Blaine felt the love in every gesture and motion and knew then that any lingering doubts he had were gone.
He would defend this man against anything, anyone. It was the only reward for a heart that anyone could see was nothing but fierce and loyal to those he loved, even as they hurt him and disbelieved him. How could Blaine do anything less?
“I love you, Blaine,” Kurt murmured, pressing his lips to Blaine's in a sweet kiss before helping him back into his shirt. Blaine allowed himself to be guided down to the floor of the cell, where Kurt curled up around him and wrapped them both in the blanket from the cot. “I love you so much, and I'm so sorry for everything that's happened.”
Blaine shook his head, snuggling closer and breathing in the smell of Kurt, of sweat and sex and sharp summer air coming through the window opening. “We'll figure it out, Kurt...we'll have to.” He lifted Kurt's hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of it before shifting up to take Kurt's lips in another one. “I love you, too, Kurt. I love you, and I'm sorry, and I forgive you. I will make sure everything is going to be all right for you and everyone else, even your father.”
“Well, isn't this sweet,” drawled a languid, syrupy voice laced with poison - a voice that didn't belong to Kurt, that was coming from the top of the stairway. Both men snapped their eyes open to gaze in shock at the sight of a tall, broad-shouldered man in unrelieved black velvet standing there, chestnut curls tumbling over his stone-cold blue eyes.
A derisive smirk twisted his mouth up on one side as he watched them taking in the sight of him, watched the horror and realization dawn on them when he dragged Amelia out of the shadows behind him and pressed her back up against his chest, holding her still as he traced the tip of his dagger over the pale skin of her throat.
“Jesse St. James at your service,” he announced, knotting his gloved hand into a large clump of Amelia's curls, making her cry out in pain. “I found this pretty thing up much too late wandering the corridors and I thought I'd bring her up here to see if anyone knew where she belonged.”
...Chapter Twenty One...