This Earthly Paradise (8/10)
Title: This Earthly Paradise (8/10)
Media: Fic
Author: GlassParade
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson
Genre: AU, Historical Romance
Spoilers: This is fully AU. No show spoilers, but I do try to keep characterizations somewhat consistent with show canon. Characters who are not from Glee are actual historical figures and the depictions of them are based loosely on those in the BBC miniseries 'Desperate Romantics'.
Word Count: 34,000+
Summary: In Victorian England, Kurt Hummel is a struggling artist and contemporary of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, an organization of painters, poets, and critics who strive to turn the art establishment of England on its very head. His mentor, one Dante Gabriel Rossetti, has grown tired of Kurt's reluctance to grow as an artist, and so enter Blaine Anderson, an artists' model of Bohemian disposition and eye-catching good looks. Can he, using rather unorthodox methods, succeed where Rossetti has not?
Additional Notes: I wanted to write something that was minimally angsty, a bit historical, but not as involved as 'Velvet Petals' or its upcoming sequel. And so I thought I'd spend hiatus on this bit of fluff.
“You want me to do what?”
Blaine continued to patiently hold out the handful of soft rope he had been trying to hand to Kurt for several minutes. His eyes twinkled with amusement at Kurt's consternation. “I would really quite like it if you were to tie me to your bed and have your wicked, wicked way with me,” he informed Kurt, voice ripe with cheerful lascivity. “Please?”
As difficult as Kurt often found it to resist anything Blaine asked of him, this was something he hadn't ever expected, and it was well beyond his comprehension. “I don't understand why.” Slowly, Kurt reached out and plucked one of the lengths of rope from Blaine's hand, running the ends of it between his fingers as if it were Blaine's hair. “You won't be able to do anything. Where's the fun in that?”
“That is the fun.” Blaine's face softened from its impish, teasing grin to something altogether more affectionate. “I told you that I have many tricks up my sleeve. Did you not believe me?”
“Well, of course I did.” Prickly splinters of hemp woven in with the cotton bit a little at his fingers as he touched the rope. Blaine was full of surprises, and each day with him was a new adventure, which was quite nearly the only certainty about him. “But I was not expecting this.”
Blaine's shoulders lifted in an easy shrug. “I daresay there's much you haven't expected from me, lover.” The twinkle in his eyes and lightness of his voice assured Kurt that he was still teasing. “Are you already tired of trying new things?”
Kurt kept toying with the rope. “It's not that. It's that I don't understand it. You want to be helpless. Unable to touch me or yourself or...how is that enjoyable for you?”
Several long, silent moments passed while Blaine studied Kurt's face. Kurt tried not to fidget under the scrutiny. At last, Blaine spoke. “You didn't understand the other night, either, did you? At the Gardens?”
Mutely, Kurt shook his head, gathering his thoughts as he pulled the rope through his fingers. “I was afraid that I had hurt you,” he finally admitted, glancing up at Blaine through the veil of his eyelashes. “You had that red mark on your neck for days afterward.”
“I liked that red mark, Kurt.” Moving swiftly, Blaine came to kneel by the chair in which Kurt sat, reaching his hands out to still the agitated movement of Kurt's fingers. “I liked how I got it, I liked that you were the one who made it, I liked that for two days afterward it burned and stung and reminded me of what we had done.”
Kurt felt his brows knit together in a frown. “You like...pain?”
“I liked that pain,” Blaine corrected. He paused, suddenly looking uncertain for the first time in Kurt's memory. It was a disconcerting look, making him appear young and vulnerable. “Does that...Kurt, does that bother you?”
Biting his lip, Kurt considered the question carefully. “It bothers me to hurt you, to cause you pain,” he answered eventually, choosing his words with care. “It doesn't bother me that you like it. But I still fail to understand it.”
Blaine's face cleared into a thoughtful expression, and he nodded. “I keep forgetting...how new you are to all of this,” he mused, rubbing his thumbs over Kurt's knuckles. “You have been such an equal from the start, so sensual and quick to learn. It is surprisingly easy to forget that not very many months ago, you were a virgin.”
Kurt felt his cheeks burn. “I'm sorry.”
“No. Don't.” Blaine reached up to touch his cheek and gently guided Kurt to meet his gaze. Kurt saw nothing in the amber depths of the eyes he so loved but compassion and a touch of chagrin. “It means nothing but that somehow, I'd never thought we'd have this conversation. That we'd just fall into this as naturally and as passionately as everything else. It seems I hardly know where to begin.”
Oh. “Well,” Kurt began, taking a deep breath as he sorted through the questions in his mind. “You could start with the other night. The...with your cravat. Why did you want me to do that?”
This made Blaine chuckle softly. “Well, lover, I can't be quite certain how it escaped your notice that night, but I find the lack of air to be stimulating, as it were.” He raised an eyebrow and chuckled again at Kurt's blush, running his thumb over a burning cheekbone. “It induces some sort of euphoric state, and makes one's climax that much more...well...more.” A sheepish look crossed his face. “It's difficult to put into words.”
But Kurt thought he understood, at least a bit. It felt good, so Blaine liked it. That made sense. “But the pain? It must have hurt, but you said you liked that it hurt.”
“So do you seem to,” came the cheeky reply. “We mark each other, Kurt, with scratches and bruises in the heat of desire. Surely you've noticed that at such times, certain pain is quite pleasurable. And you do not seem to mind the results in the days that follow either. Do you?”
He had to admit he did not.
Blaine sighed and smiled a bit ruefully. “We don't have to. I just thought...”
His wistful expression gave Kurt pause. On the one hand, he balked at the notion of Blaine being helpless, an unequal participant in their lovemaking.
On the other, Blaine was inviting him to do this. And Kurt wanted to do everything possible with Blaine before their inevitable parting. Apollo And His Lyre was mere days from completion, and then what? Blaine would have no reason to still want to come around. Kurt did not at all believe that his appeal was such that a man like Blaine would want to be around him if he weren't being paid for his time. Yes, he said the most marvelous things, but he was being kind, Kurt was certain. After all, he was merely a poor artist with no family, few assets, a talent he'd allowed until recently to be stifled by his own modesty, and he was newly come yet to sensuality and lovemaking. Who would want to remain in his company unless they were obligated to do so?
Shoving his darkening thoughts aside, Kurt returned to concentrating carefully on Blaine's request. He pictured Blaine, tied up, at his mercy and whim, ready to accept anything Kurt wanted to do with him. Trusting that Kurt would take heed and stop if Blaine felt it was too much. Having faith that Kurt would make sure it was pleasurable for them both. For all these months, Blaine had been his teacher, leading him through his journey of sexual awakening and exploration. Now he was asking for permission to put himself into Kurt's hands, to let Kurt seize the reins for the first time. And Blaine wanted this. He wanted that helplessness, to trust in the fragile cushion of faith, to surrender.
Surely these are not the desires and actions of a man who remains with you out of obligation, whispered a hopeful little voice that Kurt immediately quashed. He'd been let down by hope too often in his young life. He wished only to focus on now, today, on Blaine standing before him. Blaine, the man who had given so much and only now - for the first time, Kurt realized - was asking for something of his own pleasure and benefit. How could Kurt not want to give him all of the joy his new-found knowledge could provide?
Kurt tilted his head up and gazed upon his beloved in silence. “What do you find in this bondage?” he finally asked, pulling the ropes taut in his hands. Tension popped and crackled between them as lightning, heightening the anticipation that seemed always to surround and accompany them now. And on stretched the silence as Kurt waited for a response.
At last it came, simple, real, unadorned. “Freedom.”
Simple, in that it was one word, yet so complex in all that it could mean. Kurt dared not think too closely on it.
Tossing the lengths of rope on the bed, he stood, reaching forward to seize Blaine by the lapels of his shirt, dragging close for a kiss that took the breath of both men away. Blaine's fingers laced up and through Kurt's hair, tangling together at the nape of his neck and pulling, just a little, just enough to cause a delicious ache to curl his toes and send heat rushing down his spine directly to his cock.
At last, Kurt drew slightly back, catching Blaine's full lower lip in his teeth and biting down, enjoying the sucking gasp this earned him in return. “All right,” he mumbled against his lover's mouth, guiding him carefully backwards towards the bed and yanking his shirt open. In a matter of moments the shirt was discarded on the floor and Kurt was running his hands over the dark, fine hair dusted across Blaine's chest, touching his fingers to Blaine's heartbeat and curling his fingernails lightly into the skin, leaving tiny red marks. “We'll...I'll...yes. We'll do this.” He swallowed and shoved Blaine gently back to sit on the bed. It took a long, deep breath before Kurt could find the nerve to command, “Hands around the bars.”
Blaine's eyes gleamed with eager anticipation as he obediently shoved himself back up against the brass bars of the bed, wrapping his fingers around the railings. “I am all yours,” he whispered, voice gone low and dark as the blanket of night that surrounded them, in contrast to the light in his gaze.
Oh, how Kurt so wished that to be true.
Chewing now on his own bottom lip, Kurt surveyed the half-naked man before him, assessing with his artist's eye the best way to do this. “Would you mind quite terribly,” he began hesitantly, only to be interrupted by Blaine sitting up and shaking his head in vehemence.
“Order me.”
Taken aback, Kurt stepped back a pace before regaining equilibrium. “Come again?”
“Order me.” Blaine slipped back off the bed and prowled over to Kurt, glancing up from under his lashes. “Tell me what to do. Don't ask me.”
“I...” Again, the thought of having Blaine completely at his mercy made Kurt's mouth go dry, his knees soft, his cock utterly hard. Tossing his head back, Kurt sucked another desperately needed breath into his nose, feeling it flow down his throat and loosen the tension that had stolen his voice. “I want you to remove my clothing.”
“As you wish.” Bowing his head, Blaine knelt and set himself to the task of removing Kurt's boots, taking great care to line them neatly up side by side at the foot of the bed. Then stockings, folding them together and placing them inside of the nearest boot.
Trousers followed, each button undone slowly and so, so very cautiously, as if Blaine was trying terribly hard not to touch Kurt. And Kurt realized this must be the case, that Blaine would not touch him unless he were asked - no, ordered - to do so. It was Kurt who was was truly in charge, his commands or lack thereof as binding as any ropes.
Would that he could tie Blaine's heart to his own so easily.
Clearing his throat, he reached down and ran his fingers through the downy softness of Blaine's curls. “Blaine,” he murmured, rough as brick and soft as silk, “touch me.”
Blaine looked up, hands stilled in the motion of pulling Kurt's trousers down. “Tell me how,” he replied simply, keeping his eyes locked on Kurt's as he returned to his task. “Tell me what you want. How you want it.”
Oh, sweet God, Kurt thought, biting harder on his lower lip to keep back the groan that threatened to snarl its way out of his chest. He was terrified of this new responsibility, yet aroused as much by Blaine's deference as he ever had been by his easy, confident dominance. He hardly knew where to begin, what to ask, how to put into words what he wanted. His cheeks flushed rosy with the blush that still plagued him and revealed his uncertainty as clearly as an article in a newspaper. “I...I want...” Oh, it was like being a virgin all over again.
“It's all right, Kurt,” Blaine encouraged, smiling with all the warmth and kindness that Kurt so loved. “Please. Tell me anything you want me to do. You can be honest with me.”
But could he be in control? Could he take the lead? That was what was giving Kurt pause, this shift in their dynamic. Blaine had always been willing to please Kurt, that was never a doubt, but never had he been this...subservient about it. It was a shifting ground beneath Kurt's careful feet, something to which he had to adjust.
He focused on Blaine's calm, patient face, on the feel of his hair under Kurt's hand. The touchstone in all of this, of course, was Blaine. Confident, adventurous, joyous Blaine, the same Blaine Kurt liked to wake up next to every morning he possibly could. It was still Blaine there kneeling at his feet, oddly confident even in this subservience, and so trusting, and really, all Kurt had to do was to conquer his own reticence, because Blaine was right there and willing to do anything he wanted if he could just get the words out.
“Plea...no.” Kurt shook his head and took a steadying breath. He was getting a little dizzy from all of his calming efforts! This would never do. He simply had to fling himself into this. Right. Yes. He tightened his grip in Blaine's hair and nodded, just once, sharply. “Blaine, I want you to open your mouth and suck my cock.”
As soon as the word cock had left his lips, Kurt's was extracted from his undergarments and engulfed by Blaine's warm, wet, voraciously sucking mouth. He would never tire of this, ever, it would always remain his most favorite thing of everything he and Blaine did. Kurt went nearly blind with the pleasure of it, his fingers tugging at Blaine's curls and causing, in turn, those delicious muffled moans of delight that sent vibrations up and down his shaft. Nothing, nothing ever could be as marvelous as this.
Except, if Blaine were to be believed, the freedom of bondage. Which reminded Kurt that tonight was not to be about himself.
With regret, Kurt pulled Blaine back, holding in his bereft sigh as the cool air of the studio licked over the damp skin of his hard member. “Continue removing my clothing, then disrobe and return to your position on the bed,” he instructed, tilting his chin up and waiting for Blaine to strip them both naked. Which was now done with considerable alacrity, Kurt noted in amusement as he found himself nude in record time and admiring Blaine's fantastic and now equally unclothed backside as his lover crawled back into the bed.
Well. There was nothing else for it. Hoping his uncertainty wasn't embarrassingly over-obvious, Kurt paced towards the bed and picked up the lengths of rope, twining them around his own wrists while he considered Blaine again, thinking about the things Blaine did that pleased him the best, for he wanted this to be as enjoyable as Blaine was trusting he would make it. “I'm going to tie you down now,” he advised, keeping a careful eye on Blaine and praying he didn't get anything wrong.
Blaine nodded, a tiny, content smile on his lips. “All right.”
“I'd like you be on your knees, facing the head of the bed.” Since this was a night to try new and adventurous things, he'd decided to see what it might be like to take Blaine from behind. It was something they'd done a handful of times before, but never with Kurt taking the lead. In fact, he'd only been in this position at all two or three times before, because he really just liked having Blaine inside of him so very entirely much. It was something of an addiction for him.
And that was when all the pieces truly fell into place for Kurt, the scales falling from his eyes as he realized it. He loved Blaine's confidence and dominance - it was as much a part of their sexual activity as actually being intimate with each other. He loved Blaine's eagerness to share his knowledge, at how bringing Kurt pleasure seemed to in turn heighten his pleasure as well. He liked how Blaine felt on him, in him, around him - all of it was immensely arousing and wonderful.
Well, of course he could do this. No matter how it would hurt later, Kurt loved Blaine and therefore he wanted Blaine to feel just as happy and fulfilled during this night as he himself always did every other night. And if Kurt liked being dominated without even quite knowing that was part of what he enjoyed, then oh, oh yes, he could do this for Blaine, who knew what he wanted and whose enjoyment would be enhanced a thousandfold for it.
Suddenly, reticence fell away and Kurt's singular focus was on making Blaine very, very happy indeed.
“Put your hands through the bars and clasp them,” he began, seeing where he would go with this now. Blaine obeyed immediately, and Kurt slipped in under his arm, snuggling back against his chest and facing the brass bedstead. With care - not too tightly, not too loose - he wound the rope around Blaine's wrists and the bar of the bed that they flanked, binding all together and tying a sturdy knot. “Pull back,” he directed, and Blaine did. The knot didn't loosen. Good. Kurt squirmed and turned around to face Blaine now, placing his hands on either side of his lover's head and kissing him hard, tongue darting to taste the softness of Blaine's mouth, to claim and plunder as thoroughly as Blaine had done to him the first time they had kissed. By the time he pulled away to level his gaze on Blaine's once more, they were both breathing in harsh, rasping gasps, chests rising and falling in tandem against each other, and the knowledge that he could do this to Blaine quite sent Kurt's confidence spiraling to lofty heights.
“I'm going to fuck you now,” he declared, thoroughly pleased at how Blaine bobbed his head in a wordless nod, eyes huge. The epithet felt odd on his tongue, yet he couldn't deny the thrill that shivered down his spine when it was voiced. Kurt felt deliciously naughty and alive all at once. “I'm going to kiss you, and lick you, and touch you and fuck you, do you understand?”
Blaine looked positively dazzled with delight. “O...oh yes.”
Without another word, Kurt leaned in to press their bodies close together and kissed Blaine again, wondering if there was any possible way in the world to get enough of this alone, the smell and the taste and the heat of Blaine, even if they had all the time in the world, would that be long enough?
His fingers twisted into the curls at the base of Blaine's neck and, as Blaine had done to him earlier, Kurt tugged, just a single firm clench and slight pull, to see what would happen.
A heavy groan ripped out of Blaine's throat as he broke their kiss to lean into the pull, his member stiffening against Kurt's thigh, burning hot in its desire. His arms jerked as he tried to react as he usually did when Kurt did this, to wrap Kurt in his arms and tumble him to the bed or floor or table or wherever they happened to be.
But, of course, he couldn't. Blaine's eyes widened and he let out a tiny, embarrassed chuckle. “It has been some time since I've done this,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I have to remember that I can't...”
“Touch me, grab me, or stop me,” Kurt finished, knowing his eyes were alight with mischief as he reached out and clamped his fingers around Blaine's hips, pulling their bodies so close together a breath could not have passed between them. “I can do as I wish as slowly as I like. Oh...”
“Don't let the power go to your head,” cautioned Blaine with amusement, only to ramble off into incoherent muttering as Kurt dipped his head to nibble and suck at Blaine's jaw, scraping his tongue over the stubble there and working down, down, slowly down to his neck, to the lobe of his ear, to the smooth skin of his shoulder.
Kurt loved tasting Blaine, but did not often get the leisure of being able to take his time at doing so, they got so frenzied so quickly. Now his tongue was as his paintbrush, a tool to wield in the art of - not painting, now, but in the exploration of Blaine Anderson.
Guttural moans filled the air of the studio as Kurt's lips trailed wet, open kisses in his wake while he moved from shoulder to Blaine's arm. Kurt had taken such care and time painting the lean, firm muscles of Blaine's body, stroking in light and shadow and outlining their curves and lines. He had felt them under his gripping, desperate fingers a hundred times or more. But now he dipped the tip of his tongue to trace the hills and valleys, bit gently at the swell of Blaine's upper arm, sucked a soft kiss into the crook of his elbow, turned and tripped over the rope bindings to what he could reach of Blaine's hands. The fingers that had brought Kurt to the peaks of ecstasy so many times and in such a delightful variety of ways were given the most attentive treatment, each one he could get to sucked and laved, each line and knuckle teased with Kurt's tongue until Blaine couldn't even moan anymore and his body trembled against Kurt's back.
Then Kurt reversed his mouth's travels, returned back up arm and elbow and bicep and shoulder and neck to Blaine's mouth, smiling as he caught his lover's mouth in a kiss and then began his journey all over again, down the other side.
By the time he came back once more to Blaine's lips, he could see that the prolonged exploration had caused him to nearly come completely apart. Blaine's eyes were so wide and dark, almost none of their usual molten amber could be seen. His lips were swollen from Kurt's kisses, color was high in his cheeks, and his breath came in ragged jerks. Pleading was all over his face, and when Kurt glanced down, he could see his lover's cock was so hard, it strained up and away from Blaine and seemed to be almost reaching for Kurt in desperation. A pearly droplet of his seed had begun to leak from the rosy head and glimmered in the gaslight.
In this moment, Blaine had never been more beautiful and pleasing to look upon. He took Kurt's breath quite entirely away.
“What is it?” It sounded as if it were a struggle for Blaine to get even those words out, and it snapped Kurt out of his reverie.
“You're beautiful,” he whispered simply, taking in the sight before him and burning it into his memory so that when this time was over, he would remember this for as long as he possibly could. One day, he thought, he might try to paint the memory, one day perhaps when it would not bite so deeply to do so. “You'll always be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
“So are you to me,” came the gently amused, slightly ragged reply, making Kurt go very still, his heart twisting with painful slowness in his chest. Kurt's eyes met Blaine's and he felt as though he were drowning in love and desire and need.
Unwilling to extend the tease anymore, Kurt slipped down and out of the circle of Blaine's arms, trailing his fingers over the muscles of Blaine's stomach as he moved to kneel behind him. He couldn't resist slicking a long lick down the line of Blaine's spine as he pressed with his hand to bend him down, delighting in the shuddering groan this elicited. But he, too, was rock hard and suddenly wanted nothing more on this earth than to be buried deep within his lover, fingers gripping tight and denting into soft skin, for their straining moans to color the air in a sensual duet. Feeling unsteady on his feet, Kurt made as quick work as he could of fetching the vial of oil and pouring a golden puddle of it into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up. “Are you all right?” he asked Blaine, worried that he was drawing this out too long, that it wasn't as good for Blaine as it was for himself.
Blaine glanced over his shoulder, a pleading look on his face. “I will be,” he answered hopefully, biting his lip a bit as he watched Kurt spread the oil on his hands. Then he could only gasp as Kurt slipped his fingers along the crevice of his buttocks, touching gently at the soft skin there and pressing oil into his hidden entrance.
Carefully and with delight at every little whimper and gasp he earned, Kurt stretched Blaine open one probing, twisting finger at a time. He felt his member twitch and strain with its desperate need to be inside of Blaine, to be pushing and thrusting into the tight warmth.
At last, he could wait no longer. “Do you feel ready?” he asked urgently, keeping his fingers moving even as he pressed up close to Blaine's side and nibbled along the curve of his neck and shoulder. Please let him say yes, he thought desperately, please, oh please.
“Now...please, Kurt, God, please,” came the broken, welcome response, and Kurt wasted no time pulling his fingers free - to the accompaniment of a long, tormented moan - and lining the head of his aching cock to where Blaine was warm and open and ready to take him in.
He had the strength to sink in slowly, the control to take careful half-strokes to complete the task of opening Blaine even more fully, but it was taking everything Kurt had to not simply thrust his hips forward and let himself be completely engulfed inside of Blaine. He could not begin to understand what self-control Blaine had to possess to continue holding himself still and waiting for Kurt.
When he finally thrust home, Kurt stopped, taking deep breaths once again to steady himself. The incredible power he held in his hands now was nearly as tangible as Blaine's hipbones against his fingers. He had never, not once in his life, felt so responsible for the care and safety and pleasure of another person. His lovely Blaine was so utterly dependent on him in this moment, so trusting that Kurt would see to the enjoyment of them both.
Dear God he never wanted Blaine to leave, wished again that they could be bound together forever as easily as he had tied Blaine to his bed. Kurt swallowed back a whine of despair and reached forward to place his hands on his lover's shoulders, dragging them back with his fingernails scraping down Blaine's back.
“Unggghhhh,” was all Blaine could get out, an utterance so raw and primal that it unraveled the last fragile hold Kurt had on his control, going straight to his cock with a jolt.
Kurt reached forward again, this time sliding his fingers into Blaine's hair, grabbing a handful of curls in a firm grip and pulling as he had before. And again as before, Blaine groaned and threw his head back into the pull, and Kurt could see him biting down on his lower lip as he fought to not buck his hips back against Kurt's cock.
He could take no more.
Releasing his grip, Kurt slipped his hand back to Blaine's hip and held tight, pulling out as slowly as he could, almost completely out of Blaine, letting only the head of his manhood rest just inside. One breath, two, and then he thrust forward hard, letting out his own groan as he filled Blaine up, their cries mingling and bouncing off the walls of the studio. Kurt let his fingernails dig in again to Blaine's skin, carefully, so carefully, not sure where the line was between pleasure and pain and not wanting to cross it.
Before him, Blaine's hands strained against their bonds, his fingers white-knuckled as they gripped at the bars of the bedframe. His dark curls against the cream linen of the pillow covers into which he tried to stifle his moans were a delicious contrast, the red marks on his back where Kurt's fingernails had trailed as bright as any paint on canvas. Kurt leaned forward to cover Blaine completely with the length of his body, his hips keeping their increasingly manic pace as he gasped against the sweat-damp heat of Blaine's back. “Blaine, oh, Blaine, so close,” he heard himself say, fumbling his hands around to catch and squeeze Blaine's member, pulling in time with his frantic strokes into his lover's body.
He lost himself in that moment, in the sensation of pulling and grabbing, of heat and want. Kurt's world narrowed to his cock burying itself over and over in Blaine, of the slight gloss of sticky semen under his palms where they clutched at Blaine, of the tiny grunts and sighs he heard when he lay his cheek against Blaine's back and closed his eyes. This was it, this was all he wanted, this spectacle of sex and desire and freedom in bondage and how Blaine sounded when Kurt drove into him -
Kurt tipped over the edge first, climaxing with not a shout but a low, almost inhuman sounding groan as he pushed his hips forward one last time and spilled deep into Blaine. And there he might have wished to stay forever, but mindful of his responsibility to the man bound beneath him, he pulled out and scrambled down to slip between Blaine's legs, twisting to lay on his back and suck the marvelous, engorged cock hanging there directly into his greedy mouth.
Since this was his favorite thing for Blaine to do to him, Kurt was always gratified when his less expert efforts seemed to make Blaine feel as good as he made Kurt feel. And indeed, the incoherent yelps and gasps coming from over his head seemed to indicate that he was doing well. Full of pride for himself and love for the man he pleasured , Kurt wrapped his hands around Blaine's thighs and gripped hard, pulling Blaine into his mouth and sucking hard, winding his tongue frantically around and into every ridge and curve. He always, always paid special attention to the little ridge dividing firm head from velvety shaft, always delighted in the nearly sobbing moans his care drew from Blaine's throat.
Bursts of salty little drops trickled from the head of Blaine's cock, rolling over Kurt's tongue and down his throat. This and the long breath he heard being sucked in were all the warning Kurt had before Blaine erupted hot into his eager mouth. Satisfaction tingled through Kurt as he sucked all of it down, his fingers dimpling into the backs of Blaine's thighs as his lover's hips jerked and thrust his pulsing member over and over between Kurt's lips, all control over his movements gone.
When at last, Blaine's frantic jerking movements stilled, Kurt pushed himself up the bed until he felt his head collide with the pillows and he was facing Blaine. He tilted his head back and reached to untie his knots as quickly as he could, carefully pulling the rope free and tossing it aside as Blaine collapsed on top of him, sated and breathing in deeply with a lazy smile on his face. In another moment Kurt felt himself grasped in strong arms and rolled over until he was laying atop Blaine, feeling his mouth being claimed and taken in a fierce kiss that left him, once more, entirely without the ability to go on breathing when it at last ended.
“I take it that this...that you...I was all right?” Suddenly he felt himself gone all modest and reticent again, worried and hopeful all at once. Turning his head slightly, Kurt saw red rings of rope burn encircling Blaine's wrists and winced, lifting his hand up to catch carefully at Blaine's and press soft kisses to the bright markings.
Blaine smiled up at him from the pillows. “It was everything I knew that it could be, with you,” he answered, eyes once again the molten amber Kurt liked so well, and full of some emotion he could not identify. “Everything wonderful and free and grand - that's what it was.”
A deep sigh of relief gusted out of Kurt then, and he slumped down to snuggle close. “I was afraid I would hurt you, or that I would take too long and you wouldn't enjoy it -”
“Shh.” Blaine held him close and tipped his chin up so that their eyes could meet. “It was perfect. You were perfect. Thank you. Thank you more than I can say.”
Pulling away, Kurt ducked his head back down and felt himself blush. “I just wanted to make you happy. As happy as you've made me. Because you have, you know.” It was a fight to get the words out around the bashful lump that rose in his throat, but it felt important to say, to make sure Blaine knew that their time together had been wonderful. “You've changed everything for me. In good ways.”
A kiss was pressed to the top of his head. “Knowing you has been the greatest thing I've experienced,” Blaine whispered, and Kurt could hear the affectionate smile in his voice. “I don't want it ever to end.”
Then don't let it, please, Kurt thought hopelessly with another smaller, more wistful sigh. Tilting his head up, he caught Blaine's lips in one last soft, sweet kiss before he rested his head against Blaine's chest and let his beloved's heartbeat lull him into sleep.
...Chapter Nine...
Media: Fic
Author: GlassParade
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson
Genre: AU, Historical Romance
Spoilers: This is fully AU. No show spoilers, but I do try to keep characterizations somewhat consistent with show canon. Characters who are not from Glee are actual historical figures and the depictions of them are based loosely on those in the BBC miniseries 'Desperate Romantics'.
Word Count: 34,000+
Summary: In Victorian England, Kurt Hummel is a struggling artist and contemporary of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, an organization of painters, poets, and critics who strive to turn the art establishment of England on its very head. His mentor, one Dante Gabriel Rossetti, has grown tired of Kurt's reluctance to grow as an artist, and so enter Blaine Anderson, an artists' model of Bohemian disposition and eye-catching good looks. Can he, using rather unorthodox methods, succeed where Rossetti has not?
Additional Notes: I wanted to write something that was minimally angsty, a bit historical, but not as involved as 'Velvet Petals' or its upcoming sequel. And so I thought I'd spend hiatus on this bit of fluff.
“You want me to do what?”
Blaine continued to patiently hold out the handful of soft rope he had been trying to hand to Kurt for several minutes. His eyes twinkled with amusement at Kurt's consternation. “I would really quite like it if you were to tie me to your bed and have your wicked, wicked way with me,” he informed Kurt, voice ripe with cheerful lascivity. “Please?”
As difficult as Kurt often found it to resist anything Blaine asked of him, this was something he hadn't ever expected, and it was well beyond his comprehension. “I don't understand why.” Slowly, Kurt reached out and plucked one of the lengths of rope from Blaine's hand, running the ends of it between his fingers as if it were Blaine's hair. “You won't be able to do anything. Where's the fun in that?”
“That is the fun.” Blaine's face softened from its impish, teasing grin to something altogether more affectionate. “I told you that I have many tricks up my sleeve. Did you not believe me?”
“Well, of course I did.” Prickly splinters of hemp woven in with the cotton bit a little at his fingers as he touched the rope. Blaine was full of surprises, and each day with him was a new adventure, which was quite nearly the only certainty about him. “But I was not expecting this.”
Blaine's shoulders lifted in an easy shrug. “I daresay there's much you haven't expected from me, lover.” The twinkle in his eyes and lightness of his voice assured Kurt that he was still teasing. “Are you already tired of trying new things?”
Kurt kept toying with the rope. “It's not that. It's that I don't understand it. You want to be helpless. Unable to touch me or yourself or...how is that enjoyable for you?”
Several long, silent moments passed while Blaine studied Kurt's face. Kurt tried not to fidget under the scrutiny. At last, Blaine spoke. “You didn't understand the other night, either, did you? At the Gardens?”
Mutely, Kurt shook his head, gathering his thoughts as he pulled the rope through his fingers. “I was afraid that I had hurt you,” he finally admitted, glancing up at Blaine through the veil of his eyelashes. “You had that red mark on your neck for days afterward.”
“I liked that red mark, Kurt.” Moving swiftly, Blaine came to kneel by the chair in which Kurt sat, reaching his hands out to still the agitated movement of Kurt's fingers. “I liked how I got it, I liked that you were the one who made it, I liked that for two days afterward it burned and stung and reminded me of what we had done.”
Kurt felt his brows knit together in a frown. “You like...pain?”
“I liked that pain,” Blaine corrected. He paused, suddenly looking uncertain for the first time in Kurt's memory. It was a disconcerting look, making him appear young and vulnerable. “Does that...Kurt, does that bother you?”
Biting his lip, Kurt considered the question carefully. “It bothers me to hurt you, to cause you pain,” he answered eventually, choosing his words with care. “It doesn't bother me that you like it. But I still fail to understand it.”
Blaine's face cleared into a thoughtful expression, and he nodded. “I keep forgetting...how new you are to all of this,” he mused, rubbing his thumbs over Kurt's knuckles. “You have been such an equal from the start, so sensual and quick to learn. It is surprisingly easy to forget that not very many months ago, you were a virgin.”
Kurt felt his cheeks burn. “I'm sorry.”
“No. Don't.” Blaine reached up to touch his cheek and gently guided Kurt to meet his gaze. Kurt saw nothing in the amber depths of the eyes he so loved but compassion and a touch of chagrin. “It means nothing but that somehow, I'd never thought we'd have this conversation. That we'd just fall into this as naturally and as passionately as everything else. It seems I hardly know where to begin.”
Oh. “Well,” Kurt began, taking a deep breath as he sorted through the questions in his mind. “You could start with the other night. The...with your cravat. Why did you want me to do that?”
This made Blaine chuckle softly. “Well, lover, I can't be quite certain how it escaped your notice that night, but I find the lack of air to be stimulating, as it were.” He raised an eyebrow and chuckled again at Kurt's blush, running his thumb over a burning cheekbone. “It induces some sort of euphoric state, and makes one's climax that much more...well...more.” A sheepish look crossed his face. “It's difficult to put into words.”
But Kurt thought he understood, at least a bit. It felt good, so Blaine liked it. That made sense. “But the pain? It must have hurt, but you said you liked that it hurt.”
“So do you seem to,” came the cheeky reply. “We mark each other, Kurt, with scratches and bruises in the heat of desire. Surely you've noticed that at such times, certain pain is quite pleasurable. And you do not seem to mind the results in the days that follow either. Do you?”
He had to admit he did not.
Blaine sighed and smiled a bit ruefully. “We don't have to. I just thought...”
His wistful expression gave Kurt pause. On the one hand, he balked at the notion of Blaine being helpless, an unequal participant in their lovemaking.
On the other, Blaine was inviting him to do this. And Kurt wanted to do everything possible with Blaine before their inevitable parting. Apollo And His Lyre was mere days from completion, and then what? Blaine would have no reason to still want to come around. Kurt did not at all believe that his appeal was such that a man like Blaine would want to be around him if he weren't being paid for his time. Yes, he said the most marvelous things, but he was being kind, Kurt was certain. After all, he was merely a poor artist with no family, few assets, a talent he'd allowed until recently to be stifled by his own modesty, and he was newly come yet to sensuality and lovemaking. Who would want to remain in his company unless they were obligated to do so?
Shoving his darkening thoughts aside, Kurt returned to concentrating carefully on Blaine's request. He pictured Blaine, tied up, at his mercy and whim, ready to accept anything Kurt wanted to do with him. Trusting that Kurt would take heed and stop if Blaine felt it was too much. Having faith that Kurt would make sure it was pleasurable for them both. For all these months, Blaine had been his teacher, leading him through his journey of sexual awakening and exploration. Now he was asking for permission to put himself into Kurt's hands, to let Kurt seize the reins for the first time. And Blaine wanted this. He wanted that helplessness, to trust in the fragile cushion of faith, to surrender.
Surely these are not the desires and actions of a man who remains with you out of obligation, whispered a hopeful little voice that Kurt immediately quashed. He'd been let down by hope too often in his young life. He wished only to focus on now, today, on Blaine standing before him. Blaine, the man who had given so much and only now - for the first time, Kurt realized - was asking for something of his own pleasure and benefit. How could Kurt not want to give him all of the joy his new-found knowledge could provide?
Kurt tilted his head up and gazed upon his beloved in silence. “What do you find in this bondage?” he finally asked, pulling the ropes taut in his hands. Tension popped and crackled between them as lightning, heightening the anticipation that seemed always to surround and accompany them now. And on stretched the silence as Kurt waited for a response.
At last it came, simple, real, unadorned. “Freedom.”
Simple, in that it was one word, yet so complex in all that it could mean. Kurt dared not think too closely on it.
Tossing the lengths of rope on the bed, he stood, reaching forward to seize Blaine by the lapels of his shirt, dragging close for a kiss that took the breath of both men away. Blaine's fingers laced up and through Kurt's hair, tangling together at the nape of his neck and pulling, just a little, just enough to cause a delicious ache to curl his toes and send heat rushing down his spine directly to his cock.
At last, Kurt drew slightly back, catching Blaine's full lower lip in his teeth and biting down, enjoying the sucking gasp this earned him in return. “All right,” he mumbled against his lover's mouth, guiding him carefully backwards towards the bed and yanking his shirt open. In a matter of moments the shirt was discarded on the floor and Kurt was running his hands over the dark, fine hair dusted across Blaine's chest, touching his fingers to Blaine's heartbeat and curling his fingernails lightly into the skin, leaving tiny red marks. “We'll...I'll...yes. We'll do this.” He swallowed and shoved Blaine gently back to sit on the bed. It took a long, deep breath before Kurt could find the nerve to command, “Hands around the bars.”
Blaine's eyes gleamed with eager anticipation as he obediently shoved himself back up against the brass bars of the bed, wrapping his fingers around the railings. “I am all yours,” he whispered, voice gone low and dark as the blanket of night that surrounded them, in contrast to the light in his gaze.
Oh, how Kurt so wished that to be true.
Chewing now on his own bottom lip, Kurt surveyed the half-naked man before him, assessing with his artist's eye the best way to do this. “Would you mind quite terribly,” he began hesitantly, only to be interrupted by Blaine sitting up and shaking his head in vehemence.
“Order me.”
Taken aback, Kurt stepped back a pace before regaining equilibrium. “Come again?”
“Order me.” Blaine slipped back off the bed and prowled over to Kurt, glancing up from under his lashes. “Tell me what to do. Don't ask me.”
“I...” Again, the thought of having Blaine completely at his mercy made Kurt's mouth go dry, his knees soft, his cock utterly hard. Tossing his head back, Kurt sucked another desperately needed breath into his nose, feeling it flow down his throat and loosen the tension that had stolen his voice. “I want you to remove my clothing.”
“As you wish.” Bowing his head, Blaine knelt and set himself to the task of removing Kurt's boots, taking great care to line them neatly up side by side at the foot of the bed. Then stockings, folding them together and placing them inside of the nearest boot.
Trousers followed, each button undone slowly and so, so very cautiously, as if Blaine was trying terribly hard not to touch Kurt. And Kurt realized this must be the case, that Blaine would not touch him unless he were asked - no, ordered - to do so. It was Kurt who was was truly in charge, his commands or lack thereof as binding as any ropes.
Would that he could tie Blaine's heart to his own so easily.
Clearing his throat, he reached down and ran his fingers through the downy softness of Blaine's curls. “Blaine,” he murmured, rough as brick and soft as silk, “touch me.”
Blaine looked up, hands stilled in the motion of pulling Kurt's trousers down. “Tell me how,” he replied simply, keeping his eyes locked on Kurt's as he returned to his task. “Tell me what you want. How you want it.”
Oh, sweet God, Kurt thought, biting harder on his lower lip to keep back the groan that threatened to snarl its way out of his chest. He was terrified of this new responsibility, yet aroused as much by Blaine's deference as he ever had been by his easy, confident dominance. He hardly knew where to begin, what to ask, how to put into words what he wanted. His cheeks flushed rosy with the blush that still plagued him and revealed his uncertainty as clearly as an article in a newspaper. “I...I want...” Oh, it was like being a virgin all over again.
“It's all right, Kurt,” Blaine encouraged, smiling with all the warmth and kindness that Kurt so loved. “Please. Tell me anything you want me to do. You can be honest with me.”
But could he be in control? Could he take the lead? That was what was giving Kurt pause, this shift in their dynamic. Blaine had always been willing to please Kurt, that was never a doubt, but never had he been this...subservient about it. It was a shifting ground beneath Kurt's careful feet, something to which he had to adjust.
He focused on Blaine's calm, patient face, on the feel of his hair under Kurt's hand. The touchstone in all of this, of course, was Blaine. Confident, adventurous, joyous Blaine, the same Blaine Kurt liked to wake up next to every morning he possibly could. It was still Blaine there kneeling at his feet, oddly confident even in this subservience, and so trusting, and really, all Kurt had to do was to conquer his own reticence, because Blaine was right there and willing to do anything he wanted if he could just get the words out.
“Plea...no.” Kurt shook his head and took a steadying breath. He was getting a little dizzy from all of his calming efforts! This would never do. He simply had to fling himself into this. Right. Yes. He tightened his grip in Blaine's hair and nodded, just once, sharply. “Blaine, I want you to open your mouth and suck my cock.”
As soon as the word cock had left his lips, Kurt's was extracted from his undergarments and engulfed by Blaine's warm, wet, voraciously sucking mouth. He would never tire of this, ever, it would always remain his most favorite thing of everything he and Blaine did. Kurt went nearly blind with the pleasure of it, his fingers tugging at Blaine's curls and causing, in turn, those delicious muffled moans of delight that sent vibrations up and down his shaft. Nothing, nothing ever could be as marvelous as this.
Except, if Blaine were to be believed, the freedom of bondage. Which reminded Kurt that tonight was not to be about himself.
With regret, Kurt pulled Blaine back, holding in his bereft sigh as the cool air of the studio licked over the damp skin of his hard member. “Continue removing my clothing, then disrobe and return to your position on the bed,” he instructed, tilting his chin up and waiting for Blaine to strip them both naked. Which was now done with considerable alacrity, Kurt noted in amusement as he found himself nude in record time and admiring Blaine's fantastic and now equally unclothed backside as his lover crawled back into the bed.
Well. There was nothing else for it. Hoping his uncertainty wasn't embarrassingly over-obvious, Kurt paced towards the bed and picked up the lengths of rope, twining them around his own wrists while he considered Blaine again, thinking about the things Blaine did that pleased him the best, for he wanted this to be as enjoyable as Blaine was trusting he would make it. “I'm going to tie you down now,” he advised, keeping a careful eye on Blaine and praying he didn't get anything wrong.
Blaine nodded, a tiny, content smile on his lips. “All right.”
“I'd like you be on your knees, facing the head of the bed.” Since this was a night to try new and adventurous things, he'd decided to see what it might be like to take Blaine from behind. It was something they'd done a handful of times before, but never with Kurt taking the lead. In fact, he'd only been in this position at all two or three times before, because he really just liked having Blaine inside of him so very entirely much. It was something of an addiction for him.
And that was when all the pieces truly fell into place for Kurt, the scales falling from his eyes as he realized it. He loved Blaine's confidence and dominance - it was as much a part of their sexual activity as actually being intimate with each other. He loved Blaine's eagerness to share his knowledge, at how bringing Kurt pleasure seemed to in turn heighten his pleasure as well. He liked how Blaine felt on him, in him, around him - all of it was immensely arousing and wonderful.
Well, of course he could do this. No matter how it would hurt later, Kurt loved Blaine and therefore he wanted Blaine to feel just as happy and fulfilled during this night as he himself always did every other night. And if Kurt liked being dominated without even quite knowing that was part of what he enjoyed, then oh, oh yes, he could do this for Blaine, who knew what he wanted and whose enjoyment would be enhanced a thousandfold for it.
Suddenly, reticence fell away and Kurt's singular focus was on making Blaine very, very happy indeed.
“Put your hands through the bars and clasp them,” he began, seeing where he would go with this now. Blaine obeyed immediately, and Kurt slipped in under his arm, snuggling back against his chest and facing the brass bedstead. With care - not too tightly, not too loose - he wound the rope around Blaine's wrists and the bar of the bed that they flanked, binding all together and tying a sturdy knot. “Pull back,” he directed, and Blaine did. The knot didn't loosen. Good. Kurt squirmed and turned around to face Blaine now, placing his hands on either side of his lover's head and kissing him hard, tongue darting to taste the softness of Blaine's mouth, to claim and plunder as thoroughly as Blaine had done to him the first time they had kissed. By the time he pulled away to level his gaze on Blaine's once more, they were both breathing in harsh, rasping gasps, chests rising and falling in tandem against each other, and the knowledge that he could do this to Blaine quite sent Kurt's confidence spiraling to lofty heights.
“I'm going to fuck you now,” he declared, thoroughly pleased at how Blaine bobbed his head in a wordless nod, eyes huge. The epithet felt odd on his tongue, yet he couldn't deny the thrill that shivered down his spine when it was voiced. Kurt felt deliciously naughty and alive all at once. “I'm going to kiss you, and lick you, and touch you and fuck you, do you understand?”
Blaine looked positively dazzled with delight. “O...oh yes.”
Without another word, Kurt leaned in to press their bodies close together and kissed Blaine again, wondering if there was any possible way in the world to get enough of this alone, the smell and the taste and the heat of Blaine, even if they had all the time in the world, would that be long enough?
His fingers twisted into the curls at the base of Blaine's neck and, as Blaine had done to him earlier, Kurt tugged, just a single firm clench and slight pull, to see what would happen.
A heavy groan ripped out of Blaine's throat as he broke their kiss to lean into the pull, his member stiffening against Kurt's thigh, burning hot in its desire. His arms jerked as he tried to react as he usually did when Kurt did this, to wrap Kurt in his arms and tumble him to the bed or floor or table or wherever they happened to be.
But, of course, he couldn't. Blaine's eyes widened and he let out a tiny, embarrassed chuckle. “It has been some time since I've done this,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I have to remember that I can't...”
“Touch me, grab me, or stop me,” Kurt finished, knowing his eyes were alight with mischief as he reached out and clamped his fingers around Blaine's hips, pulling their bodies so close together a breath could not have passed between them. “I can do as I wish as slowly as I like. Oh...”
“Don't let the power go to your head,” cautioned Blaine with amusement, only to ramble off into incoherent muttering as Kurt dipped his head to nibble and suck at Blaine's jaw, scraping his tongue over the stubble there and working down, down, slowly down to his neck, to the lobe of his ear, to the smooth skin of his shoulder.
Kurt loved tasting Blaine, but did not often get the leisure of being able to take his time at doing so, they got so frenzied so quickly. Now his tongue was as his paintbrush, a tool to wield in the art of - not painting, now, but in the exploration of Blaine Anderson.
Guttural moans filled the air of the studio as Kurt's lips trailed wet, open kisses in his wake while he moved from shoulder to Blaine's arm. Kurt had taken such care and time painting the lean, firm muscles of Blaine's body, stroking in light and shadow and outlining their curves and lines. He had felt them under his gripping, desperate fingers a hundred times or more. But now he dipped the tip of his tongue to trace the hills and valleys, bit gently at the swell of Blaine's upper arm, sucked a soft kiss into the crook of his elbow, turned and tripped over the rope bindings to what he could reach of Blaine's hands. The fingers that had brought Kurt to the peaks of ecstasy so many times and in such a delightful variety of ways were given the most attentive treatment, each one he could get to sucked and laved, each line and knuckle teased with Kurt's tongue until Blaine couldn't even moan anymore and his body trembled against Kurt's back.
Then Kurt reversed his mouth's travels, returned back up arm and elbow and bicep and shoulder and neck to Blaine's mouth, smiling as he caught his lover's mouth in a kiss and then began his journey all over again, down the other side.
By the time he came back once more to Blaine's lips, he could see that the prolonged exploration had caused him to nearly come completely apart. Blaine's eyes were so wide and dark, almost none of their usual molten amber could be seen. His lips were swollen from Kurt's kisses, color was high in his cheeks, and his breath came in ragged jerks. Pleading was all over his face, and when Kurt glanced down, he could see his lover's cock was so hard, it strained up and away from Blaine and seemed to be almost reaching for Kurt in desperation. A pearly droplet of his seed had begun to leak from the rosy head and glimmered in the gaslight.
In this moment, Blaine had never been more beautiful and pleasing to look upon. He took Kurt's breath quite entirely away.
“What is it?” It sounded as if it were a struggle for Blaine to get even those words out, and it snapped Kurt out of his reverie.
“You're beautiful,” he whispered simply, taking in the sight before him and burning it into his memory so that when this time was over, he would remember this for as long as he possibly could. One day, he thought, he might try to paint the memory, one day perhaps when it would not bite so deeply to do so. “You'll always be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
“So are you to me,” came the gently amused, slightly ragged reply, making Kurt go very still, his heart twisting with painful slowness in his chest. Kurt's eyes met Blaine's and he felt as though he were drowning in love and desire and need.
Unwilling to extend the tease anymore, Kurt slipped down and out of the circle of Blaine's arms, trailing his fingers over the muscles of Blaine's stomach as he moved to kneel behind him. He couldn't resist slicking a long lick down the line of Blaine's spine as he pressed with his hand to bend him down, delighting in the shuddering groan this elicited. But he, too, was rock hard and suddenly wanted nothing more on this earth than to be buried deep within his lover, fingers gripping tight and denting into soft skin, for their straining moans to color the air in a sensual duet. Feeling unsteady on his feet, Kurt made as quick work as he could of fetching the vial of oil and pouring a golden puddle of it into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up. “Are you all right?” he asked Blaine, worried that he was drawing this out too long, that it wasn't as good for Blaine as it was for himself.
Blaine glanced over his shoulder, a pleading look on his face. “I will be,” he answered hopefully, biting his lip a bit as he watched Kurt spread the oil on his hands. Then he could only gasp as Kurt slipped his fingers along the crevice of his buttocks, touching gently at the soft skin there and pressing oil into his hidden entrance.
Carefully and with delight at every little whimper and gasp he earned, Kurt stretched Blaine open one probing, twisting finger at a time. He felt his member twitch and strain with its desperate need to be inside of Blaine, to be pushing and thrusting into the tight warmth.
At last, he could wait no longer. “Do you feel ready?” he asked urgently, keeping his fingers moving even as he pressed up close to Blaine's side and nibbled along the curve of his neck and shoulder. Please let him say yes, he thought desperately, please, oh please.
“Now...please, Kurt, God, please,” came the broken, welcome response, and Kurt wasted no time pulling his fingers free - to the accompaniment of a long, tormented moan - and lining the head of his aching cock to where Blaine was warm and open and ready to take him in.
He had the strength to sink in slowly, the control to take careful half-strokes to complete the task of opening Blaine even more fully, but it was taking everything Kurt had to not simply thrust his hips forward and let himself be completely engulfed inside of Blaine. He could not begin to understand what self-control Blaine had to possess to continue holding himself still and waiting for Kurt.
When he finally thrust home, Kurt stopped, taking deep breaths once again to steady himself. The incredible power he held in his hands now was nearly as tangible as Blaine's hipbones against his fingers. He had never, not once in his life, felt so responsible for the care and safety and pleasure of another person. His lovely Blaine was so utterly dependent on him in this moment, so trusting that Kurt would see to the enjoyment of them both.
Dear God he never wanted Blaine to leave, wished again that they could be bound together forever as easily as he had tied Blaine to his bed. Kurt swallowed back a whine of despair and reached forward to place his hands on his lover's shoulders, dragging them back with his fingernails scraping down Blaine's back.
“Unggghhhh,” was all Blaine could get out, an utterance so raw and primal that it unraveled the last fragile hold Kurt had on his control, going straight to his cock with a jolt.
Kurt reached forward again, this time sliding his fingers into Blaine's hair, grabbing a handful of curls in a firm grip and pulling as he had before. And again as before, Blaine groaned and threw his head back into the pull, and Kurt could see him biting down on his lower lip as he fought to not buck his hips back against Kurt's cock.
He could take no more.
Releasing his grip, Kurt slipped his hand back to Blaine's hip and held tight, pulling out as slowly as he could, almost completely out of Blaine, letting only the head of his manhood rest just inside. One breath, two, and then he thrust forward hard, letting out his own groan as he filled Blaine up, their cries mingling and bouncing off the walls of the studio. Kurt let his fingernails dig in again to Blaine's skin, carefully, so carefully, not sure where the line was between pleasure and pain and not wanting to cross it.
Before him, Blaine's hands strained against their bonds, his fingers white-knuckled as they gripped at the bars of the bedframe. His dark curls against the cream linen of the pillow covers into which he tried to stifle his moans were a delicious contrast, the red marks on his back where Kurt's fingernails had trailed as bright as any paint on canvas. Kurt leaned forward to cover Blaine completely with the length of his body, his hips keeping their increasingly manic pace as he gasped against the sweat-damp heat of Blaine's back. “Blaine, oh, Blaine, so close,” he heard himself say, fumbling his hands around to catch and squeeze Blaine's member, pulling in time with his frantic strokes into his lover's body.
He lost himself in that moment, in the sensation of pulling and grabbing, of heat and want. Kurt's world narrowed to his cock burying itself over and over in Blaine, of the slight gloss of sticky semen under his palms where they clutched at Blaine, of the tiny grunts and sighs he heard when he lay his cheek against Blaine's back and closed his eyes. This was it, this was all he wanted, this spectacle of sex and desire and freedom in bondage and how Blaine sounded when Kurt drove into him -
Kurt tipped over the edge first, climaxing with not a shout but a low, almost inhuman sounding groan as he pushed his hips forward one last time and spilled deep into Blaine. And there he might have wished to stay forever, but mindful of his responsibility to the man bound beneath him, he pulled out and scrambled down to slip between Blaine's legs, twisting to lay on his back and suck the marvelous, engorged cock hanging there directly into his greedy mouth.
Since this was his favorite thing for Blaine to do to him, Kurt was always gratified when his less expert efforts seemed to make Blaine feel as good as he made Kurt feel. And indeed, the incoherent yelps and gasps coming from over his head seemed to indicate that he was doing well. Full of pride for himself and love for the man he pleasured , Kurt wrapped his hands around Blaine's thighs and gripped hard, pulling Blaine into his mouth and sucking hard, winding his tongue frantically around and into every ridge and curve. He always, always paid special attention to the little ridge dividing firm head from velvety shaft, always delighted in the nearly sobbing moans his care drew from Blaine's throat.
Bursts of salty little drops trickled from the head of Blaine's cock, rolling over Kurt's tongue and down his throat. This and the long breath he heard being sucked in were all the warning Kurt had before Blaine erupted hot into his eager mouth. Satisfaction tingled through Kurt as he sucked all of it down, his fingers dimpling into the backs of Blaine's thighs as his lover's hips jerked and thrust his pulsing member over and over between Kurt's lips, all control over his movements gone.
When at last, Blaine's frantic jerking movements stilled, Kurt pushed himself up the bed until he felt his head collide with the pillows and he was facing Blaine. He tilted his head back and reached to untie his knots as quickly as he could, carefully pulling the rope free and tossing it aside as Blaine collapsed on top of him, sated and breathing in deeply with a lazy smile on his face. In another moment Kurt felt himself grasped in strong arms and rolled over until he was laying atop Blaine, feeling his mouth being claimed and taken in a fierce kiss that left him, once more, entirely without the ability to go on breathing when it at last ended.
“I take it that this...that you...I was all right?” Suddenly he felt himself gone all modest and reticent again, worried and hopeful all at once. Turning his head slightly, Kurt saw red rings of rope burn encircling Blaine's wrists and winced, lifting his hand up to catch carefully at Blaine's and press soft kisses to the bright markings.
Blaine smiled up at him from the pillows. “It was everything I knew that it could be, with you,” he answered, eyes once again the molten amber Kurt liked so well, and full of some emotion he could not identify. “Everything wonderful and free and grand - that's what it was.”
A deep sigh of relief gusted out of Kurt then, and he slumped down to snuggle close. “I was afraid I would hurt you, or that I would take too long and you wouldn't enjoy it -”
“Shh.” Blaine held him close and tipped his chin up so that their eyes could meet. “It was perfect. You were perfect. Thank you. Thank you more than I can say.”
Pulling away, Kurt ducked his head back down and felt himself blush. “I just wanted to make you happy. As happy as you've made me. Because you have, you know.” It was a fight to get the words out around the bashful lump that rose in his throat, but it felt important to say, to make sure Blaine knew that their time together had been wonderful. “You've changed everything for me. In good ways.”
A kiss was pressed to the top of his head. “Knowing you has been the greatest thing I've experienced,” Blaine whispered, and Kurt could hear the affectionate smile in his voice. “I don't want it ever to end.”
Then don't let it, please, Kurt thought hopelessly with another smaller, more wistful sigh. Tilting his head up, he caught Blaine's lips in one last soft, sweet kiss before he rested his head against Blaine's chest and let his beloved's heartbeat lull him into sleep.
...Chapter Nine...