Velvet Petals, Piercing Thorns - Joyeux Noël
Title: Velvet Petals, Piercing Thorns - Joyeux Noël
Media: Fic
Author: a_glass_parade
Beta: mothergoddamn and aubreyli
Rating: Rated NC-17
Pairing: Kurt and Blaine
Genre: Romance, AU, Historical Fiction
Warnings: This is so very, very fluffy. Foodplay, mild control games - nothing major.
Spoilers: None for Glee, some possible spoiling if you've not read all of "Velvet Petals, Piercing Thorns".
Word Count: 5,000+
Summary: It's Christmas time in France at the Beaufort château outside of Brittany. After the traumatic events of "Velvet Petals, Piercing Thorns", Blaine is in a state of depression and Kurt wants to do his very best to try and make him happy for Christmas.
Additional Notes: This was written as a Christmas present based on a prompt from firstbreaths, who wanted a nice fluffy smutty story about the Kurt and Blaine from the "Velvet Petals" 'verse. I took it and turned it into a Christmas tale. A thousand baskets of thanks and fuzzy kittens for Aubrey, who encouraged me to let loose my repressed inner smutmonger!
If you haven't "Velvet Petals, Piercing Thorns" before, you can start HERE to read it on LJ or HERE to read it on AO3. Mind you, it's quite long, lay in a cushion and some snacks.
“Wesley, I require your assistance.” Kurt snagged the Dalton House Steward by his velvet-clad elbow and steered him into a nearby parlor, ignoring his raised eyebrows of affront. “Please,” he added hastily, thinking that perhaps it would be a good idea to not entirely antagonize Wes when he needed his help.
At the added pleasantry, Wes relaxed slightly, tugging his arm away. “Certainly, Kurt,” was his polite reply. “How may I be of service?”
“It's Blaine,” Kurt began, twisting his fingers together and sighing. “He's...sad. Christmas is nearly here. And that should be a joyous occasion since we're together and in France and it certainly looks quite picturesque out.” He gestured to the window, where snow was gently falling to the ground, illuminated by the moon. “But we've lost so much in what happened this year, and we're away from Dalton - he misses his aunt and everyone. He's not happy.”
“I was afraid of this.” Wes tapped a finger on his chin, thinking. “I take it you'd like to enlist my not-inconsiderable skills to organize something to cheer him up?”
“Exactly, yes,” Kurt replied in relief, reaching out and wringing Wes' hand with gratitude. The Steward had known Blaine so much longer than he himself had, he was really the most ideal choice to assist Kurt.
Actually, he was the only choice. Apart from the three of them, the only other occupants of the Beaufort château were its regular staff, who spoke very little English and had only rarely seen Blaine throughout his life. They would be important in the execution of whatever plan that he and Wes concocted, but unhelpful in the conception.
Kurt realized that Wes was waiting patiently for him to elaborate.”Right. Um. I wondered what things might cheer him up. Shall we decorate as you would have done at Dalton? Are there sweets he particularly likes?”
Wes kept on tapping at his chin. “Decorating is good start. We've trees a-plenty, and I'm sure the châtelaine can tell me if there are gold ribbons and things to use to make garland. Oh, and there's holly bushes out on the grounds somewhere, we can send the groundskeepers to gather it.”
“Oh, this is all excellent.” Kurt bounced up and down, clapping his hands in delight. “And I can go into town and find him a present. My French has gotten just good enough that I think I can manage that.” He was cheered himself just by the making of plans. Kurt had always enjoyed the holidays, and it made him sad that his beloved was not looking forward to them.
“Very well. I shall consult with Josette. Perhaps you'd like to plan a menu? I can help you with communicating it to the kitchen staff.” Wes patted Kurt's arm in reassurance. “It's good that you thought of this. We're going to get Blaine's spirits up, you'll see.”
Kurt couldn't help but beam a joyous smile at the other man. “It's going to be marvelous.”
But a fortnight later, things were far from being as marvelous as Kurt would have liked.
The château was perfect. Golden ribbons mingled clusters of shiny green holly leaves and red holly berries to create luxurious, festive garlands that festooned chandeliers, shelves, mantlepieces and occasionally larger pieces of furniture such as armoires and canopy beds. When Kurt and Wes had tired of stringing garland, they'd created wreaths to hang on every door they could find. A tree as tall as the main salon in which it was placed had been hung with glass baubles that sparkled in the candlelight there. On every table sat bowls of sweets created by the Beauforts' hard working kitchen staff, anything ranging from chocolate bonbons to sweet sugared almonds. And Mother Nature was still cooperating by continuing to dust the château and its surrounding land with gleaming white snow.
It was perfect, a perfect winter holiday, and all Blaine had said was, “This looks lovely, Kurt,” before locking himself away into the room he'd commandeered as a study, set to brood as he'd done each day for the last several weeks. He hadn't even smiled at the beautifully bedecked tree, nor had he partaken of any of the sweets.
Kurt looked around at the cheerful holiday scene around him and sighed, now feeling almost as sad as Blaine, but determined to find some way, any way to make his beloved smile again at this most joyous time of the year.
“What...exactly...are you doing?”
Kurt looked up from the gingerbread dough he was working on and smiled at Wes, using his forearm to wipe away a streak of flour he'd gotten on his forehead. “I'm making a gingerbread castle! There was a German kitchen servant at Raglan Castle who made a gingerbread house once when I was young. I thought it would help put Blaine more into the holiday spirit.”
Wes tilted his head and surveyed the partially completed structure before his eyes. “A castle?”
“Yes. Anyone can make a gingerbread house, I decided I'd just...go a bit larger.” Kurt waved his hand at his half-built, vaguely castle-shaped pastry building. “I'll decorate it with frosting and some of the sugared almonds and when we're done looking at it, we can eat it.”
“I admire your effort,” Wes replied diplomatically, his mouth twitching as he fought not to laugh. The purported castle really more closely resembled a dilapidated stable, but he didn't care to hurt Kurt's feelings. It was simply very clear that his talents truly were more in the realm of music and fashion than in the construction of confectionery châteaux. “Had you intended to ask Josette for assistance?”
“Oh, goodness no,” Kurt assured him, returning to his dough working. “I think I know how to build a castle.”
Wes decided not contradict him on this point. “You've made rather a lot of marchpane,” he noted, eyeing the remarkably large bowl of almond paste. “Whatever for?”
“Well, it's to be a large castle,” Kurt explained, beginning to roll out a large square of gingerbread dough. “I've to mortar this all together, that's what that's for. And I made a bit extra for Josette, I think she's going to make Christmas cakes, after a fashion?”
“Oh, lovely.” This pleased Wes. He'd always liked the heavily brandied fruitcake. “Best to keep that bowl away from Blaine, though. He does love his marchpane.”
“Does he?” Kurt looked over at the bowl, eyes wide.
“He does,” came Blaine's voice from the doorway, startling both his friend and his lover alike. They leaped and whirled to face him as he sauntered into the kitchen, the first smile Kurt had seen in weeks playing on his lips. “I came to see if the midday meal would be ready soon, but I'd be happy to just have some of that instead.”
“You'll do no such thing,” Kurt fussed, slapping his beloved's fingers away from the bowl of marchpane. “That's not a proper meal and besides, all of this has a purpose. There's not a bit to spare.”
“Not a single bit?” A pout turned down Blaine's lower lip as he turned big, hopeful hazel eyes on Kurt and laced his fingers together, pleading adorably. “Not one solitary fingerful for a hardworking nobleman in his own home?”
“It's your cousin's home,” Kurt pointed out, but relented as Blaine contrived to look even more pathetic. He swiped a long, slender finger through the bowl and held it out to Blaine, shaking his head as the young man sought to scrape it off with his own finger. “Ah, ah. Open up.”
“Ooh,” Blaine breathed before obediently opening his mouth and allowing Kurt to deposit the sweet almond paste into it. Gently, he closed his lips around his Kurt's finger and used his tongue to thoroughly clean it off, sucking down every bit of the treat before releasing Kurt, who was staring at him with wide blue eyes and spots of pink high on his cheeks.
“Well, I think that's quite enough sweetness for me this holiday season,” Wes announced, ostentatiously turning to go. “I'll leave you two to it, then.”
Blaine shook himself as if waking up and then kissed Kurt quickly on the cheek before turning to join his Steward. “Actually, wait, Wesley, I'll grab a bit of bread and we can talk about next month's expenditures...”
As they disappeared through the kitchen doorway, Kurt gazed speculatively at the bowl of marchpane on the table next to him, a germ of an idea beginning to take shape in his fertile, flexible mind.
Perhaps in the end, the best plan to cheer Blaine up would require no one's skills except Kurt's own.
“Kurt, I can't see.”
“That's the point of the blindfold, silly.” Kurt guided Blaine through the halls of the château, their slippered feet swishing gently over the stone floors. “Do you not trust me to get you to our destination in one piece?”
“Of course! I just wish I knew where we were going.” Blaine held tight to Kurt's arm with one hand, using the other to stretch out before him in hopes of touching something that would give him a clue. Kurt reached over and pushed the seeking arm down, ignoring Blaine's disgruntled huff.
“We're nearly there,” he soothed, pressing a kiss to the other man's jaw, dancing the tip of his tongue over the stubble there to elicit a whimper. “You'll like it. At least, I hope you will.”
“I'm sure I will - why are we stopping?” Blaine's voice wavered with uncertainty that belied his words as Kurt gently steered him to a halt.
“Because we're here - no, don't take that off, I'll tell you when you can take it off.” Raising his hand, Kurt stopped Blaine from untying his blindfold before turning to open the door of their shared chamber and guiding Blaine through it. “Here, stand here, and don't move until I say. Do you promise?”
Blaine nodded. “Of course I promise.”
“Good.” Kurt backed away, dropping his hands away from Blaine and glancing around the room. He'd festooned it with candles, golden ribbons and holly just as he'd done throughout the rest of the château. An expertly laid fire crackled merrily away in the fireplace, filling the room with warmth and the pleasant sharpness of pine smoke. It looked quite festive and inviting, warm and cheery. He hoped it did the proper magic...along with his last final touch.
Reaching for the knot at his waist, Kurt untied it and allowed his deep blue silk robe to slither down off of his shoulders, its only sound a whispery suserration as it puddled on the thick rug at his feet. Carefully, he stepped back towards the bed, draped with soft velvet and fur throws, piled high with pillows - an even cozier nest than that in which they would usually slumber. The bedside table had been covered with a crisp white linen cloth and was set with a single holly-red candle and a small silver bowl full of marchpane, all that was left after constructing his gingerbread castle and the châtelaine's Christmas cakes.
When he'd arranged himself suitably atop the bedcovers, Kurt cleared his throat. “You may remove the blindfold now, Blaine.”
Blaine did so with a quickness, casting his glance about to take in the room. “We're in our room?” His gaze fell upon Kurt, and he licked his lips, lust twisting his mouth up into a greedy smirk. “Oh, and you are quite naked.”
As he rushed to the bed, however, Kurt held a hand out to stop him. “No, no no no. Stop.” Blaine did, frowning in confusion. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course -” Blaine started forward again, now actively pulling his clothing off, only to be stopped again with a shake of Kurt's head. “Kurt, what?”
“You must trust that I will allow you to achieve release tonight, no matter how long it takes. Do you?”
“Yes, please, of course, whatever it will take to allow me to get my hands on you.” Blaine yanked off his breeches and burrowed into the bed with Kurt, diving to press his lips to the soft dip of skin just beneath his lover's ear, hands grabbing at his hips to pull them tight together. When Kurt wrestled his hands up between them to push him away, however, Blaine actually groaned. “Why, why are you doing this? You are naked.”
Kurt simply shook his head. “If you'll hand me that bowl there on the bedside table?”
“Bowl...?” Blaine turned over in confusion, slapping Kurt's hand away when he snuggled up and began mouthing at Blaine's shoulder. “No. If I can't touch you, you can't t - why do you have a bowl of marchpane in here?”
“Just hand it over.” Kurt's tone, while fond, left no room for argument, and so Blaine picked up the bowl and carefully turned back over to hand it to his lover. Pushing himself to sit upright against the head of the bed, Kurt accepted the bowl, dipping a finger into it and holding it out to Blaine. “Lick it.”
“Why are - oh. Oh.” Blaine's eyes lit up as he caught on, lurching forward to suck the confection off of Kurt's finger as he'd done just the other day, but more slowly, sensually, dragging his tongue up from knuckle to tip and keeping the digit firmly pressed between his lush lips as he sucked every granule and drop of marchpane from it. He kept his eyes on Kurt, who felt the color rise in his cheeks even as the heat of arousal began to unfurl in the pit of his stomach.
Licking candy from one's finger, he thought rather unsteadily, should not be this enticing. His breath had begun to hitch in his chest already, his finger trembling in Blaine's mouth. He pulled it free and dipped it back into the bowl to remove another dollop. This, he used to paint a messy little heart on his chest, just over where his actual heart would be. He lay back on the pillows. “Now this. But continue slowly, mind. Remember, I won't let you go without release.”
He did not have to ask twice, as Blaine eagerly dipped his head to let his tongue dart out and lap at the sugary treat, carefully and lovingly sucking at the pale skin. When he let his tongue drag flat across Kurt's nipple, causing it to pucker and a groan to tumble from Kurt's lips, Blaine smiled. “Just making sure I get all of it,” he assured Kurt, eyes wide and free of guile. Kurt narrowed his eyes and allowed an overly sweet smile to turn his lips up at the corners. Two could play at that game.
“Oh, you shall indeed get all of it,” he assured Blaine right back, scooping up another fingerful and sticking it directly into Blaine's mouth only a moment before leaning up and pursuing the bite of sweetness with his own lips, sliding his tongue inside and sucking back each and every tasty bit of it off of Blaine's tongue. The kiss deepened as Kurt tangled one fist into Blaine's curls, opening his mouth and bucking his hips upward, their erect cocks bumping together and making them both groan at the sensation. Too much, too soon, he thought, panting as he pushed Blaine away. “No. Slow.”
“Please, Kurt,” Blaine begged, leaning in to resume the kiss. But Kurt pushed him back again, reaching for the bowl. He was enjoying this too much to stop any time soon, loved the feeling of denying himself and Blaine alike. Anticipation whirled through his brain, the heightened desire from the tease making him feel as though a thousand lightning strikes in miniature were dancing across his skin, everywhere that Blaine touched, everywhere that Kurt wanted Blaine to touch. And lick. And suck. And - oh.
Blaine was waiting with only lightly restrained patience for Kurt's next move. Kurt moved the bowl away before Blaine could take the initiative. That would have defeated the purpose of this night. “Now here,” he instructed softly, painting several stripes of the almond paste down his torso. “One at a time. Slowly.”
A hiss of air escaped through Blaine's teeth as he ground them together, gazing longingly at Kurt's rosy, erect member. But he complied, his warm tongue laving over each stripe, as slowly as he could manage. With each completed stroke of his tongue, Kurt's skin tingled, and though it felt as though his cock could grow no harder, it did, and he wondered how indeed either of them would make it through his next idea.
Slowly, Kurt turned over, presenting his backside to Blaine. When he glanced back over his shoulder, he saw Blaine's eyes going dark and fiery at the goods on offer - but he very obediently did not touch. “Good,” Kurt whispered, cocking a flirtatious eyebrow. “Now...I cannot reach my back.”
“No,” Blaine rasped, his fists curled tight with his obvious effort to not reach out and simply grab Kurt's buttocks.
“So you shall have to be both artist and patron,” Kurt teased, pushing his arse ever so slightly into the air and enjoying the whimper that slipped through Blaine's gritted teeth. “You must apply the marchpane wherever you like, but not below my waist.”
“You try my patience,” came the answering growl, but it was not without the tell-tale breathiness that revealed Blaine's true pleasure at the endurance game. Kurt reached and slid the bowl back over the bedcovers, watching as Blaine picked it up in his unsteady hands. Trusting his lover to continue to comply with his instructions, Kurt rested his cheek on the pillow and closed his eyes, waiting with carefully concealed eagerness for Blaine's touch.
Fingers first scraped gently at the nape of his neck, leaving sugary stripes that trailed down to the soft skin where neck met shoulder on either side. This was followed by swirls as intricate as filigree tracing with restraint down Kurt's back, light feather touches dappling dots of marchpane down his spine, and a final pair of flourishes just a hairsbreadth above his waistline, applied with Blaine's thumbs as his hands curved along Kurt's sides. Each touch trembled with heat and restraint, making Kurt suck his bottom lip into his mouth to keep from letting out even a sliver of a gasp.
But no amount of self-control had ever allowed him to hold back his moans whenever Blaine's mouth closed warm and wet on the skin of his back, and that did not change even this night when his goal was ultimate control. As soon as Blaine's lips and tongue set to work clearing the almond paste away, licks of flame raged up Kurt's spine and spread under his skin, extending to the toes he pointed and flexed with each stroke, to his fingers that curled so tightly into the bedcovers, his knuckles went white. He knew he himself could not last much longer, confirmed it when he felt his cock rutting against the sleek fur beneath his body. God only knew how Blaine was holding back.
When the last swirl was neatly licked away, Kurt turned over onto his back to face Blaine, who trembled with the effort of restraint, his member fair bursting as it seemed to reach out, seeking release. Kurt took pity on himself and his poor, obedient lover at last. “All right. Here, next,” he whispered, slowly swirling a goodly amount of marchpane over the rosy head of his cock before setting the bowl back down on the bedside table. “You know what to do.”
Blaine did indeed, as this was one of his favorite activities. He all but dove down in his eagerness to get at Kurt's cock with his well-practiced mouth. Gasping, Kurt curled his fingers back into the bedcovers as Blaine's tongue moved with delicate sureness to lick away all of the marchpane, leaving behind clean, smooth, warm skin that he immediately covered with his mouth to begin sucking.
“Ah, my God, Blaine,” Kurt stammered as his lover's talented mouth and hands worked their magic. He couldn't help but throw his head back and press his lips together to hold back a shuddering groan of need when Blaine's tongue dragged up the shaft of his member, dipping its very tongue-tip into the slit at the top where Kurt had begun to leak in his arousal, collecting every droplet there.
Blaine merely hummed a bit, sending vibrations through the shaft of Kurt's cock and rendering him entirely wordless and mindless in his ecstasy. His tongue moved nimbly as his head bobbed, leaving no inch of skin untasted, his hands pressing down on Kurt's thighs as he worked. He had made clear from their first nights together that he particularly loved this, that he loved the warmth of the velvety skin on his tongue, the taste of the liquid he coaxed from the shaft, the moans and whimpers Kurt couldn't keep back as his lover's mouth encouraged him to climax. Kurt was, of course, not about to discourage him, even if the act was even more handily unraveling the threads of his fragile control. His breath began to move raggedly out of his lungs, harsh breaths almost cutting as they stuttered out of his throat.
Just before he lost his head completely, Kurt grabbed Blaine's shoulders and dragged him up and off his cock, pulling his lover up for a long kiss even as he was protesting. “Sshh, Blaine - I want...” Kurt fumbled down at the bedside table and pulled out a small pottery vial of oil, slipping it into Blaine's hand. “Please.”
With a deep kiss and one more cheekily swiped mouthful of marchpane, Blaine took the vial and moved down between Kurt's thighs again, pressing more kisses in a slow, sweet path all the way down and ending with one last one to the base of Kurt's shaft where it met the tender skin of his balls, making Kurt shudder in anticipation. “Up,” came the murmured request, Blaine's hand pushing until Kurt pulled his legs up and back, allowing Blaine to breathe warm air across the dark entrance then revealed.
With care, Blaine warmed the oil in his hands before painting it across the skin of Kurt's opening, massaging and softening the skin before gently beginning to insert his finger at a pace even more slow than when he'd licked the candy paste from Kurt's abdomen. Normally, Blaine would have been eager and panting, one hand on his own cock even as he prepared Kurt to receive it, but he seemed to have been affected by Kurt's insistence on moving slowly, for he twisted his finger in and out for a deliciously long time, making Kurt's toes curl and his head roll across the pillows. Only soft wordless moans could escape brokenly from Kurt's mouth, his cock straining hard and ready against his stomach. The controller had suddenly become controlled by his own lust - but Kurt kept just enough presence of mind to vow to turn the tables back on Blaine as soon as he could.
“Two, now,” came the whisper as his thighs were spread further apart, Blaine pulling his finger out only to replace it with two more freshly oiled ones, slightly crooked just enough to brush across the spot inside of him that made Kurt cry out and arch his back, gripping his legs more tightly against his body. Stroke after stroke teased the tender inner skin, fingers teasing across the little place where intense sensation had Kurt nearly biting through his lip as he worked to hold himself together. It didn't take long for Blaine's careful work with his clever fingers to allow for one more, and then before Kurt knew it, Blaine was up on his knees, cock in hand and ready to enter.
“Oh, wait, no,” Kurt blurted, his mind clearing as he pushed himself up to his own knees and grabbed a surprised Blaine by the shoulders. “No, no, I have a plan.”
“Kurt, I -” But Blaine was cut off when Kurt pushed him down onto the bed and straddled his waist, leaning to pin his hands over his head. He swallowed hard as the realization hit him, his fingers flexing and making the muscles of his wrists tense in Kurt's grip. “Oh. I see.”
“Good.” Kurt freed one hand to reach around behind him and line Blaine's cock up with his entrance, holding it still as he sank back down upon it. He braced himself as he continued to shift down and back, pressing Blaine's wrists down into the pillows even as he held his lower body down with his hips. “Ah...yes...there...” Kurt breathed, fixing his gaze on the face of his lover so that when the time came, he could watch every moment of Blaine falling to pieces.
Hips arched up, the fine bones pressing into the soft backs of Kurt's thighs. It was all the movement Blaine could manage, pinned as he was beneath Kurt. “Please,” he begged, trying to push higher, to get deeper inside. “Please.”
“We're going slowly,” Kurt reminded him sweetly, pulling up and away even as he longed to push all the way down himself. He leaned down carefully, claiming a kiss from his lover that still tasted of almond-sugar paste. Inspired, he reached over for more of the sweet treat, painting it over Blaine's lips, sucking it away until they were rosy red and swollen, glistening with Kurt's kiss as breath moved unevenly between them. “Patience. I promised. Don't you trust me?”
“I don't...trust...me.” Blaine's eyes were wide and dark, his fingers curled into fists over his head. “I want you...too much. Always too much.”
“I love you,” Kurt whispered against his lips before sitting back up and slowly pushing himself back down on Blaine's member, reveling in the fullness and stretch of it as he came completely down to rest, Blaine fully sheathed within his body. They both heaved sighs of pure pleasure and took a moment to enjoy being so closely intertwined, as close as two people could ever get.
It was a feeling that never got old for them, and they both sincerely hoped it never would.
Kurt began to move first, rising with agonizing slowness to until Blaine's cock was nearly fully out of his body, forcing himself to slip with equal slowness back down to feel the fill and the stretch again. They were both now beyond talking, the prelude having all but melted their minds and rendered them incapable of anything more than experiencing the sensations of filling and being filled, the heat and tension and delicious, painful, amazing need they had for each other.
Brushing his sugar-sticky fingers between Blaine's lips, Kurt whimpered when Blaine's tongue curled around them, sucking and pulling all of the candy paste off. He pushed and rode, his fingers in Blaine's mouth, Blaine's cock inside of him, an endless loop of sweet pleasure connecting them and fanning the flames of desire.
And Kurt could not keep the steady pace for long. He wanted too much, and Blaine was writhing helplessly beneath him, his face open and pleading with his own out of control desperation. Slow, leisurely lovemaking gave way to frantic lust, broken cries and gutteral, primal moans jolted from each of them when one's skin slipped hot and slick against the other's. Kurt tried so hard to pull himself back, to make it last, but it was hopeless. Ripping his hands away from Blaine's wrists, he gave up trying to restrain himself, coming to his enfeebled senses and giving over to their mutual burning erotic need.
Blaine newly freed hands grabbed immediately at Kurt's hips and pressed bruises into the flesh there as Kurt took Blaine into himself over and over, pushing himself down, a filthy moan stumbling from his mouth when his cock was seized in Blaine's hand, being stroked in the same rhythm that Kurt was using to thrust himself recklessly down onto Blaine's own member. The last vestiges of sense seized Kurt and had him lean back just slightly, just to get at the right angle and -
He erupted, his seed splashing hot over his chest just as Blaine released his cock and grabbed for his hips again, holding tight as Kurt pushed down and pressed his hands hard onto Blaine's chest. A strangled howl of triumph tore from Blaine as he himself spilled in release before shared tremors rocked them both, leaving them devoid of sense and speech. Their cries echoed around the room for what seemed an eternity as they began to come down from their high.
Kurt reluctantly disengaged, laying alongside to wind his arms down and around his beloved to hold him close. He felt Blaine's hand come up and stroke at his hair. “I love you, too,” he murmured, his other arm draping over Kurt's back. “What was the occasion?”
“Christmas,” Kurt mumbled in a sweet, sleepy whisper, turning his head so that he could kiss Blaine before settling his ear back over Blaine's steadily beating heart. The lengthy teasing coupled with the intensity of the resulting lovemaking seemed to have culminated in a boneless, warm exhaustion that was carrying them swiftly into slumber. “I wanted you to have a happy Christmas after everything that's happened.”
“Well done, then,” Blaine breathed, pressing a sweet kiss to Kurt's forehead before they both drifted off into sleep. “Happy Christmas to you as well, lover.”
Media: Fic
Author: a_glass_parade
Beta: mothergoddamn and aubreyli
Rating: Rated NC-17
Pairing: Kurt and Blaine
Genre: Romance, AU, Historical Fiction
Warnings: This is so very, very fluffy. Foodplay, mild control games - nothing major.
Spoilers: None for Glee, some possible spoiling if you've not read all of "Velvet Petals, Piercing Thorns".
Word Count: 5,000+
Summary: It's Christmas time in France at the Beaufort château outside of Brittany. After the traumatic events of "Velvet Petals, Piercing Thorns", Blaine is in a state of depression and Kurt wants to do his very best to try and make him happy for Christmas.
Additional Notes: This was written as a Christmas present based on a prompt from firstbreaths, who wanted a nice fluffy smutty story about the Kurt and Blaine from the "Velvet Petals" 'verse. I took it and turned it into a Christmas tale. A thousand baskets of thanks and fuzzy kittens for Aubrey, who encouraged me to let loose my repressed inner smutmonger!
If you haven't "Velvet Petals, Piercing Thorns" before, you can start HERE to read it on LJ or HERE to read it on AO3. Mind you, it's quite long, lay in a cushion and some snacks.
“Wesley, I require your assistance.” Kurt snagged the Dalton House Steward by his velvet-clad elbow and steered him into a nearby parlor, ignoring his raised eyebrows of affront. “Please,” he added hastily, thinking that perhaps it would be a good idea to not entirely antagonize Wes when he needed his help.
At the added pleasantry, Wes relaxed slightly, tugging his arm away. “Certainly, Kurt,” was his polite reply. “How may I be of service?”
“It's Blaine,” Kurt began, twisting his fingers together and sighing. “He's...sad. Christmas is nearly here. And that should be a joyous occasion since we're together and in France and it certainly looks quite picturesque out.” He gestured to the window, where snow was gently falling to the ground, illuminated by the moon. “But we've lost so much in what happened this year, and we're away from Dalton - he misses his aunt and everyone. He's not happy.”
“I was afraid of this.” Wes tapped a finger on his chin, thinking. “I take it you'd like to enlist my not-inconsiderable skills to organize something to cheer him up?”
“Exactly, yes,” Kurt replied in relief, reaching out and wringing Wes' hand with gratitude. The Steward had known Blaine so much longer than he himself had, he was really the most ideal choice to assist Kurt.
Actually, he was the only choice. Apart from the three of them, the only other occupants of the Beaufort château were its regular staff, who spoke very little English and had only rarely seen Blaine throughout his life. They would be important in the execution of whatever plan that he and Wes concocted, but unhelpful in the conception.
Kurt realized that Wes was waiting patiently for him to elaborate.”Right. Um. I wondered what things might cheer him up. Shall we decorate as you would have done at Dalton? Are there sweets he particularly likes?”
Wes kept on tapping at his chin. “Decorating is good start. We've trees a-plenty, and I'm sure the châtelaine can tell me if there are gold ribbons and things to use to make garland. Oh, and there's holly bushes out on the grounds somewhere, we can send the groundskeepers to gather it.”
“Oh, this is all excellent.” Kurt bounced up and down, clapping his hands in delight. “And I can go into town and find him a present. My French has gotten just good enough that I think I can manage that.” He was cheered himself just by the making of plans. Kurt had always enjoyed the holidays, and it made him sad that his beloved was not looking forward to them.
“Very well. I shall consult with Josette. Perhaps you'd like to plan a menu? I can help you with communicating it to the kitchen staff.” Wes patted Kurt's arm in reassurance. “It's good that you thought of this. We're going to get Blaine's spirits up, you'll see.”
Kurt couldn't help but beam a joyous smile at the other man. “It's going to be marvelous.”
But a fortnight later, things were far from being as marvelous as Kurt would have liked.
The château was perfect. Golden ribbons mingled clusters of shiny green holly leaves and red holly berries to create luxurious, festive garlands that festooned chandeliers, shelves, mantlepieces and occasionally larger pieces of furniture such as armoires and canopy beds. When Kurt and Wes had tired of stringing garland, they'd created wreaths to hang on every door they could find. A tree as tall as the main salon in which it was placed had been hung with glass baubles that sparkled in the candlelight there. On every table sat bowls of sweets created by the Beauforts' hard working kitchen staff, anything ranging from chocolate bonbons to sweet sugared almonds. And Mother Nature was still cooperating by continuing to dust the château and its surrounding land with gleaming white snow.
It was perfect, a perfect winter holiday, and all Blaine had said was, “This looks lovely, Kurt,” before locking himself away into the room he'd commandeered as a study, set to brood as he'd done each day for the last several weeks. He hadn't even smiled at the beautifully bedecked tree, nor had he partaken of any of the sweets.
Kurt looked around at the cheerful holiday scene around him and sighed, now feeling almost as sad as Blaine, but determined to find some way, any way to make his beloved smile again at this most joyous time of the year.
“What...exactly...are you doing?”
Kurt looked up from the gingerbread dough he was working on and smiled at Wes, using his forearm to wipe away a streak of flour he'd gotten on his forehead. “I'm making a gingerbread castle! There was a German kitchen servant at Raglan Castle who made a gingerbread house once when I was young. I thought it would help put Blaine more into the holiday spirit.”
Wes tilted his head and surveyed the partially completed structure before his eyes. “A castle?”
“Yes. Anyone can make a gingerbread house, I decided I'd just...go a bit larger.” Kurt waved his hand at his half-built, vaguely castle-shaped pastry building. “I'll decorate it with frosting and some of the sugared almonds and when we're done looking at it, we can eat it.”
“I admire your effort,” Wes replied diplomatically, his mouth twitching as he fought not to laugh. The purported castle really more closely resembled a dilapidated stable, but he didn't care to hurt Kurt's feelings. It was simply very clear that his talents truly were more in the realm of music and fashion than in the construction of confectionery châteaux. “Had you intended to ask Josette for assistance?”
“Oh, goodness no,” Kurt assured him, returning to his dough working. “I think I know how to build a castle.”
Wes decided not contradict him on this point. “You've made rather a lot of marchpane,” he noted, eyeing the remarkably large bowl of almond paste. “Whatever for?”
“Well, it's to be a large castle,” Kurt explained, beginning to roll out a large square of gingerbread dough. “I've to mortar this all together, that's what that's for. And I made a bit extra for Josette, I think she's going to make Christmas cakes, after a fashion?”
“Oh, lovely.” This pleased Wes. He'd always liked the heavily brandied fruitcake. “Best to keep that bowl away from Blaine, though. He does love his marchpane.”
“Does he?” Kurt looked over at the bowl, eyes wide.
“He does,” came Blaine's voice from the doorway, startling both his friend and his lover alike. They leaped and whirled to face him as he sauntered into the kitchen, the first smile Kurt had seen in weeks playing on his lips. “I came to see if the midday meal would be ready soon, but I'd be happy to just have some of that instead.”
“You'll do no such thing,” Kurt fussed, slapping his beloved's fingers away from the bowl of marchpane. “That's not a proper meal and besides, all of this has a purpose. There's not a bit to spare.”
“Not a single bit?” A pout turned down Blaine's lower lip as he turned big, hopeful hazel eyes on Kurt and laced his fingers together, pleading adorably. “Not one solitary fingerful for a hardworking nobleman in his own home?”
“It's your cousin's home,” Kurt pointed out, but relented as Blaine contrived to look even more pathetic. He swiped a long, slender finger through the bowl and held it out to Blaine, shaking his head as the young man sought to scrape it off with his own finger. “Ah, ah. Open up.”
“Ooh,” Blaine breathed before obediently opening his mouth and allowing Kurt to deposit the sweet almond paste into it. Gently, he closed his lips around his Kurt's finger and used his tongue to thoroughly clean it off, sucking down every bit of the treat before releasing Kurt, who was staring at him with wide blue eyes and spots of pink high on his cheeks.
“Well, I think that's quite enough sweetness for me this holiday season,” Wes announced, ostentatiously turning to go. “I'll leave you two to it, then.”
Blaine shook himself as if waking up and then kissed Kurt quickly on the cheek before turning to join his Steward. “Actually, wait, Wesley, I'll grab a bit of bread and we can talk about next month's expenditures...”
As they disappeared through the kitchen doorway, Kurt gazed speculatively at the bowl of marchpane on the table next to him, a germ of an idea beginning to take shape in his fertile, flexible mind.
Perhaps in the end, the best plan to cheer Blaine up would require no one's skills except Kurt's own.
“Kurt, I can't see.”
“That's the point of the blindfold, silly.” Kurt guided Blaine through the halls of the château, their slippered feet swishing gently over the stone floors. “Do you not trust me to get you to our destination in one piece?”
“Of course! I just wish I knew where we were going.” Blaine held tight to Kurt's arm with one hand, using the other to stretch out before him in hopes of touching something that would give him a clue. Kurt reached over and pushed the seeking arm down, ignoring Blaine's disgruntled huff.
“We're nearly there,” he soothed, pressing a kiss to the other man's jaw, dancing the tip of his tongue over the stubble there to elicit a whimper. “You'll like it. At least, I hope you will.”
“I'm sure I will - why are we stopping?” Blaine's voice wavered with uncertainty that belied his words as Kurt gently steered him to a halt.
“Because we're here - no, don't take that off, I'll tell you when you can take it off.” Raising his hand, Kurt stopped Blaine from untying his blindfold before turning to open the door of their shared chamber and guiding Blaine through it. “Here, stand here, and don't move until I say. Do you promise?”
Blaine nodded. “Of course I promise.”
“Good.” Kurt backed away, dropping his hands away from Blaine and glancing around the room. He'd festooned it with candles, golden ribbons and holly just as he'd done throughout the rest of the château. An expertly laid fire crackled merrily away in the fireplace, filling the room with warmth and the pleasant sharpness of pine smoke. It looked quite festive and inviting, warm and cheery. He hoped it did the proper magic...along with his last final touch.
Reaching for the knot at his waist, Kurt untied it and allowed his deep blue silk robe to slither down off of his shoulders, its only sound a whispery suserration as it puddled on the thick rug at his feet. Carefully, he stepped back towards the bed, draped with soft velvet and fur throws, piled high with pillows - an even cozier nest than that in which they would usually slumber. The bedside table had been covered with a crisp white linen cloth and was set with a single holly-red candle and a small silver bowl full of marchpane, all that was left after constructing his gingerbread castle and the châtelaine's Christmas cakes.
When he'd arranged himself suitably atop the bedcovers, Kurt cleared his throat. “You may remove the blindfold now, Blaine.”
Blaine did so with a quickness, casting his glance about to take in the room. “We're in our room?” His gaze fell upon Kurt, and he licked his lips, lust twisting his mouth up into a greedy smirk. “Oh, and you are quite naked.”
As he rushed to the bed, however, Kurt held a hand out to stop him. “No, no no no. Stop.” Blaine did, frowning in confusion. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course -” Blaine started forward again, now actively pulling his clothing off, only to be stopped again with a shake of Kurt's head. “Kurt, what?”
“You must trust that I will allow you to achieve release tonight, no matter how long it takes. Do you?”
“Yes, please, of course, whatever it will take to allow me to get my hands on you.” Blaine yanked off his breeches and burrowed into the bed with Kurt, diving to press his lips to the soft dip of skin just beneath his lover's ear, hands grabbing at his hips to pull them tight together. When Kurt wrestled his hands up between them to push him away, however, Blaine actually groaned. “Why, why are you doing this? You are naked.”
Kurt simply shook his head. “If you'll hand me that bowl there on the bedside table?”
“Bowl...?” Blaine turned over in confusion, slapping Kurt's hand away when he snuggled up and began mouthing at Blaine's shoulder. “No. If I can't touch you, you can't t - why do you have a bowl of marchpane in here?”
“Just hand it over.” Kurt's tone, while fond, left no room for argument, and so Blaine picked up the bowl and carefully turned back over to hand it to his lover. Pushing himself to sit upright against the head of the bed, Kurt accepted the bowl, dipping a finger into it and holding it out to Blaine. “Lick it.”
“Why are - oh. Oh.” Blaine's eyes lit up as he caught on, lurching forward to suck the confection off of Kurt's finger as he'd done just the other day, but more slowly, sensually, dragging his tongue up from knuckle to tip and keeping the digit firmly pressed between his lush lips as he sucked every granule and drop of marchpane from it. He kept his eyes on Kurt, who felt the color rise in his cheeks even as the heat of arousal began to unfurl in the pit of his stomach.
Licking candy from one's finger, he thought rather unsteadily, should not be this enticing. His breath had begun to hitch in his chest already, his finger trembling in Blaine's mouth. He pulled it free and dipped it back into the bowl to remove another dollop. This, he used to paint a messy little heart on his chest, just over where his actual heart would be. He lay back on the pillows. “Now this. But continue slowly, mind. Remember, I won't let you go without release.”
He did not have to ask twice, as Blaine eagerly dipped his head to let his tongue dart out and lap at the sugary treat, carefully and lovingly sucking at the pale skin. When he let his tongue drag flat across Kurt's nipple, causing it to pucker and a groan to tumble from Kurt's lips, Blaine smiled. “Just making sure I get all of it,” he assured Kurt, eyes wide and free of guile. Kurt narrowed his eyes and allowed an overly sweet smile to turn his lips up at the corners. Two could play at that game.
“Oh, you shall indeed get all of it,” he assured Blaine right back, scooping up another fingerful and sticking it directly into Blaine's mouth only a moment before leaning up and pursuing the bite of sweetness with his own lips, sliding his tongue inside and sucking back each and every tasty bit of it off of Blaine's tongue. The kiss deepened as Kurt tangled one fist into Blaine's curls, opening his mouth and bucking his hips upward, their erect cocks bumping together and making them both groan at the sensation. Too much, too soon, he thought, panting as he pushed Blaine away. “No. Slow.”
“Please, Kurt,” Blaine begged, leaning in to resume the kiss. But Kurt pushed him back again, reaching for the bowl. He was enjoying this too much to stop any time soon, loved the feeling of denying himself and Blaine alike. Anticipation whirled through his brain, the heightened desire from the tease making him feel as though a thousand lightning strikes in miniature were dancing across his skin, everywhere that Blaine touched, everywhere that Kurt wanted Blaine to touch. And lick. And suck. And - oh.
Blaine was waiting with only lightly restrained patience for Kurt's next move. Kurt moved the bowl away before Blaine could take the initiative. That would have defeated the purpose of this night. “Now here,” he instructed softly, painting several stripes of the almond paste down his torso. “One at a time. Slowly.”
A hiss of air escaped through Blaine's teeth as he ground them together, gazing longingly at Kurt's rosy, erect member. But he complied, his warm tongue laving over each stripe, as slowly as he could manage. With each completed stroke of his tongue, Kurt's skin tingled, and though it felt as though his cock could grow no harder, it did, and he wondered how indeed either of them would make it through his next idea.
Slowly, Kurt turned over, presenting his backside to Blaine. When he glanced back over his shoulder, he saw Blaine's eyes going dark and fiery at the goods on offer - but he very obediently did not touch. “Good,” Kurt whispered, cocking a flirtatious eyebrow. “Now...I cannot reach my back.”
“No,” Blaine rasped, his fists curled tight with his obvious effort to not reach out and simply grab Kurt's buttocks.
“So you shall have to be both artist and patron,” Kurt teased, pushing his arse ever so slightly into the air and enjoying the whimper that slipped through Blaine's gritted teeth. “You must apply the marchpane wherever you like, but not below my waist.”
“You try my patience,” came the answering growl, but it was not without the tell-tale breathiness that revealed Blaine's true pleasure at the endurance game. Kurt reached and slid the bowl back over the bedcovers, watching as Blaine picked it up in his unsteady hands. Trusting his lover to continue to comply with his instructions, Kurt rested his cheek on the pillow and closed his eyes, waiting with carefully concealed eagerness for Blaine's touch.
Fingers first scraped gently at the nape of his neck, leaving sugary stripes that trailed down to the soft skin where neck met shoulder on either side. This was followed by swirls as intricate as filigree tracing with restraint down Kurt's back, light feather touches dappling dots of marchpane down his spine, and a final pair of flourishes just a hairsbreadth above his waistline, applied with Blaine's thumbs as his hands curved along Kurt's sides. Each touch trembled with heat and restraint, making Kurt suck his bottom lip into his mouth to keep from letting out even a sliver of a gasp.
But no amount of self-control had ever allowed him to hold back his moans whenever Blaine's mouth closed warm and wet on the skin of his back, and that did not change even this night when his goal was ultimate control. As soon as Blaine's lips and tongue set to work clearing the almond paste away, licks of flame raged up Kurt's spine and spread under his skin, extending to the toes he pointed and flexed with each stroke, to his fingers that curled so tightly into the bedcovers, his knuckles went white. He knew he himself could not last much longer, confirmed it when he felt his cock rutting against the sleek fur beneath his body. God only knew how Blaine was holding back.
When the last swirl was neatly licked away, Kurt turned over onto his back to face Blaine, who trembled with the effort of restraint, his member fair bursting as it seemed to reach out, seeking release. Kurt took pity on himself and his poor, obedient lover at last. “All right. Here, next,” he whispered, slowly swirling a goodly amount of marchpane over the rosy head of his cock before setting the bowl back down on the bedside table. “You know what to do.”
Blaine did indeed, as this was one of his favorite activities. He all but dove down in his eagerness to get at Kurt's cock with his well-practiced mouth. Gasping, Kurt curled his fingers back into the bedcovers as Blaine's tongue moved with delicate sureness to lick away all of the marchpane, leaving behind clean, smooth, warm skin that he immediately covered with his mouth to begin sucking.
“Ah, my God, Blaine,” Kurt stammered as his lover's talented mouth and hands worked their magic. He couldn't help but throw his head back and press his lips together to hold back a shuddering groan of need when Blaine's tongue dragged up the shaft of his member, dipping its very tongue-tip into the slit at the top where Kurt had begun to leak in his arousal, collecting every droplet there.
Blaine merely hummed a bit, sending vibrations through the shaft of Kurt's cock and rendering him entirely wordless and mindless in his ecstasy. His tongue moved nimbly as his head bobbed, leaving no inch of skin untasted, his hands pressing down on Kurt's thighs as he worked. He had made clear from their first nights together that he particularly loved this, that he loved the warmth of the velvety skin on his tongue, the taste of the liquid he coaxed from the shaft, the moans and whimpers Kurt couldn't keep back as his lover's mouth encouraged him to climax. Kurt was, of course, not about to discourage him, even if the act was even more handily unraveling the threads of his fragile control. His breath began to move raggedly out of his lungs, harsh breaths almost cutting as they stuttered out of his throat.
Just before he lost his head completely, Kurt grabbed Blaine's shoulders and dragged him up and off his cock, pulling his lover up for a long kiss even as he was protesting. “Sshh, Blaine - I want...” Kurt fumbled down at the bedside table and pulled out a small pottery vial of oil, slipping it into Blaine's hand. “Please.”
With a deep kiss and one more cheekily swiped mouthful of marchpane, Blaine took the vial and moved down between Kurt's thighs again, pressing more kisses in a slow, sweet path all the way down and ending with one last one to the base of Kurt's shaft where it met the tender skin of his balls, making Kurt shudder in anticipation. “Up,” came the murmured request, Blaine's hand pushing until Kurt pulled his legs up and back, allowing Blaine to breathe warm air across the dark entrance then revealed.
With care, Blaine warmed the oil in his hands before painting it across the skin of Kurt's opening, massaging and softening the skin before gently beginning to insert his finger at a pace even more slow than when he'd licked the candy paste from Kurt's abdomen. Normally, Blaine would have been eager and panting, one hand on his own cock even as he prepared Kurt to receive it, but he seemed to have been affected by Kurt's insistence on moving slowly, for he twisted his finger in and out for a deliciously long time, making Kurt's toes curl and his head roll across the pillows. Only soft wordless moans could escape brokenly from Kurt's mouth, his cock straining hard and ready against his stomach. The controller had suddenly become controlled by his own lust - but Kurt kept just enough presence of mind to vow to turn the tables back on Blaine as soon as he could.
“Two, now,” came the whisper as his thighs were spread further apart, Blaine pulling his finger out only to replace it with two more freshly oiled ones, slightly crooked just enough to brush across the spot inside of him that made Kurt cry out and arch his back, gripping his legs more tightly against his body. Stroke after stroke teased the tender inner skin, fingers teasing across the little place where intense sensation had Kurt nearly biting through his lip as he worked to hold himself together. It didn't take long for Blaine's careful work with his clever fingers to allow for one more, and then before Kurt knew it, Blaine was up on his knees, cock in hand and ready to enter.
“Oh, wait, no,” Kurt blurted, his mind clearing as he pushed himself up to his own knees and grabbed a surprised Blaine by the shoulders. “No, no, I have a plan.”
“Kurt, I -” But Blaine was cut off when Kurt pushed him down onto the bed and straddled his waist, leaning to pin his hands over his head. He swallowed hard as the realization hit him, his fingers flexing and making the muscles of his wrists tense in Kurt's grip. “Oh. I see.”
“Good.” Kurt freed one hand to reach around behind him and line Blaine's cock up with his entrance, holding it still as he sank back down upon it. He braced himself as he continued to shift down and back, pressing Blaine's wrists down into the pillows even as he held his lower body down with his hips. “Ah...yes...there...” Kurt breathed, fixing his gaze on the face of his lover so that when the time came, he could watch every moment of Blaine falling to pieces.
Hips arched up, the fine bones pressing into the soft backs of Kurt's thighs. It was all the movement Blaine could manage, pinned as he was beneath Kurt. “Please,” he begged, trying to push higher, to get deeper inside. “Please.”
“We're going slowly,” Kurt reminded him sweetly, pulling up and away even as he longed to push all the way down himself. He leaned down carefully, claiming a kiss from his lover that still tasted of almond-sugar paste. Inspired, he reached over for more of the sweet treat, painting it over Blaine's lips, sucking it away until they were rosy red and swollen, glistening with Kurt's kiss as breath moved unevenly between them. “Patience. I promised. Don't you trust me?”
“I don't...trust...me.” Blaine's eyes were wide and dark, his fingers curled into fists over his head. “I want you...too much. Always too much.”
“I love you,” Kurt whispered against his lips before sitting back up and slowly pushing himself back down on Blaine's member, reveling in the fullness and stretch of it as he came completely down to rest, Blaine fully sheathed within his body. They both heaved sighs of pure pleasure and took a moment to enjoy being so closely intertwined, as close as two people could ever get.
It was a feeling that never got old for them, and they both sincerely hoped it never would.
Kurt began to move first, rising with agonizing slowness to until Blaine's cock was nearly fully out of his body, forcing himself to slip with equal slowness back down to feel the fill and the stretch again. They were both now beyond talking, the prelude having all but melted their minds and rendered them incapable of anything more than experiencing the sensations of filling and being filled, the heat and tension and delicious, painful, amazing need they had for each other.
Brushing his sugar-sticky fingers between Blaine's lips, Kurt whimpered when Blaine's tongue curled around them, sucking and pulling all of the candy paste off. He pushed and rode, his fingers in Blaine's mouth, Blaine's cock inside of him, an endless loop of sweet pleasure connecting them and fanning the flames of desire.
And Kurt could not keep the steady pace for long. He wanted too much, and Blaine was writhing helplessly beneath him, his face open and pleading with his own out of control desperation. Slow, leisurely lovemaking gave way to frantic lust, broken cries and gutteral, primal moans jolted from each of them when one's skin slipped hot and slick against the other's. Kurt tried so hard to pull himself back, to make it last, but it was hopeless. Ripping his hands away from Blaine's wrists, he gave up trying to restrain himself, coming to his enfeebled senses and giving over to their mutual burning erotic need.
Blaine newly freed hands grabbed immediately at Kurt's hips and pressed bruises into the flesh there as Kurt took Blaine into himself over and over, pushing himself down, a filthy moan stumbling from his mouth when his cock was seized in Blaine's hand, being stroked in the same rhythm that Kurt was using to thrust himself recklessly down onto Blaine's own member. The last vestiges of sense seized Kurt and had him lean back just slightly, just to get at the right angle and -
He erupted, his seed splashing hot over his chest just as Blaine released his cock and grabbed for his hips again, holding tight as Kurt pushed down and pressed his hands hard onto Blaine's chest. A strangled howl of triumph tore from Blaine as he himself spilled in release before shared tremors rocked them both, leaving them devoid of sense and speech. Their cries echoed around the room for what seemed an eternity as they began to come down from their high.
Kurt reluctantly disengaged, laying alongside to wind his arms down and around his beloved to hold him close. He felt Blaine's hand come up and stroke at his hair. “I love you, too,” he murmured, his other arm draping over Kurt's back. “What was the occasion?”
“Christmas,” Kurt mumbled in a sweet, sleepy whisper, turning his head so that he could kiss Blaine before settling his ear back over Blaine's steadily beating heart. The lengthy teasing coupled with the intensity of the resulting lovemaking seemed to have culminated in a boneless, warm exhaustion that was carrying them swiftly into slumber. “I wanted you to have a happy Christmas after everything that's happened.”
“Well done, then,” Blaine breathed, pressing a sweet kiss to Kurt's forehead before they both drifted off into sleep. “Happy Christmas to you as well, lover.”