{fic} Eager to Please/Lucky to Love, Epilogue 3/4

[hamhocklover]

The look on Dave’s face was priceless. Kurt grinned wide as he committed the look to memory. Oh yes, this was gonna be sweet. He was trying his hardest to hide how nervous he really was. But when Dave shot him looks like that, it just made it so much easier.

“Me? You mean…um, what now?”

Kurt reached between them, finding Dave’s zipper and pulling quickly. He fumbled with Dave’s belt and button and had his pants and boxers around his thighs before Dave could even think about objecting. And really…what were the chances that he would actually object?

But his face…Kurt loved that look. He licked his lower lip, cocking his eyebrow and keeping his voice low and sultry. “Turn around, Dave. Foreplay’s over.”

Kurt turned Dave around forcibly, causing Dave to bend forward and plant his palms on the top of his desk. He gasped at Kurt’s unexpected aggression. There was a sudden wetness between his cheeks as Kurt’s finger probed him roughly. He was so freaking turned on by this. Kurt was seriously gonna fuck him. Now. In his office. At work. With Figgins and Steph and everyone else just outside that door.

He’d never been so fucking hard in his life.

Kurt removed his slicked finger. He’d only bothered with one. He rolled a condom on, feeling generous enough to leave Dave with a little dignity. At least he wouldn’t be left with that squishy feeling Kurt enjoyed so much as he finished his boring Tuesday at work. He lubed up quickly then lined himself up, barely breaching Dave’s hole, holding his hips steady in front of him. “Mmm, you feel good, Dave. You ready for this?”

“My god…Kurt, you--”

Kurt didn’t bother waiting for an answer. He pressed forward quickly, filling Dave, burying himself completely before pulling back and then proceeding to pound into him. It was fast and rough and loud as their skin slapped together, filling the silence of Dave’s office with their obscene noises. Dave grunted and groaned with each thrust. He tried to be quiet but goddamn…Kurt’s urgency and speed were turning him into a sniveling mess. Kurt wasn’t a large man but he was definitely there, hard and thick inside him. Dave ignored the sting and concentrated instead of the absolute splendor of the moment.

It was over almost as soon as it started. Kurt dug his fingers sharply into Dave’s skin, exploding into him with a furious and determined pace. He stilled himself finally, savoring the feel of Dave clenched around him, letting his orgasm wash over him. He released his hold on Dave’s hips, pulling his hand back and slapping Dave’s exposed cheek as hard as he could.

Dave yelped at the unexpected smack. It echoed through the room and Dave found himself even more aroused. But then Kurt was pulling out, tying off his condom and pulling his pants back up. Dave turned around, curious. Was that all?

“Are you, uh…are you done with me now?”

“Uh huh,” Kurt nodded. “I’ll let you get back to whatever it was you were doing. Thanks. See you at home.” He was across the room and unlocking the door before Dave could scramble for his pants.

“Kurt? Hang on a second, damn…”

Kurt turned, his hand still holding the doorknob. “What, Dave? What do you want?” He kept his expression blank and his tone disinterested. He loved fucking with Dave…almost as much as he loved fucking him, it suddenly occurred to him.

Dave was pulling up his pants, fumbling to get his belt latched as he came across the room and met Kurt at the door. “I don’t even…I don’t even get a kiss or a cuddle or anything…? After that?”

Kurt smirked. Dave was such a cute little puppydog sometimes. He reached his hand to the back of Dave’s head, leaned in and kissed him slowly, tenderly where they stood. He reached down between them, cupping Dave’s still throbbing erection in his hands and squeezing firmly. “I know you wanna get off, baby. I know this is killing you…” Kurt whispered into Dave’s hair as he licked and nipped at the curve of his ear. “But I want you hard…and hungry…and ready to fuck the shit out of me when you get home tonight.” He kept stroking Dave’s length as he spoke, “You keep him exactly like he is now and I’ll be waiting for you in our favorite spot up on the roof.”

Dave gasped at the feeling of Kurt’s hand stroking him through his pants. God, why’d he have to fall in love with such an insufferable tease? “I’m coming home early…you better be ready.”

“You know I will be.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was five months later, the middle of April, that Azimio dropped Brittany off at Dave and Kurt’s apartment. “Ok, you two girls have fun…doing whatever you do. I’ll be back to pick you up tomorrow evening, alright, Brit?”

Brittany nodded shyly as her master stood in the doorway. She could feel Santana’s hand on her arm and she itched to touch her back.

“Have you heard from them today?” Azimio asked Santana.

“No, sir. They called yesterday morning and told me you were coming by with Brittany. But I don’t expect to hear from them until they return Sunday evening.”

Azimio shook his head, sighed and turned back down the hallway. It wasn’t like he was expecting daily updates of his best friend’s honeymoon, he just thought maybe…maybe the guy would call and tell him how amazing Maui was or some shit. He walked back to his truck, trying to convince himself that he and Big D were still best friends and his marriage to that little slave-turned-hot twink didn’t mean that they weren’t as tight. So what if he hadn’t seen him like, at all in the past few months. He was Dave’s best man and although the wedding itself went by in a blur, they’d have time to catch up and do manly shit once Dave was back home.

Azimio started his engine and pulled back out of the garage, catching his reflection in his mirror and grumbling. He couldn’t deny it. He missed his friend. And although he’d never admit it, he was jealous of Kurt. He thought back to that day in the facility, standing next to his bro, leaning over and suggesting that he pick the one that he really wanted. Well, as it turned out, Dave had done just that. Dave got the one he wanted and with it…he got what he deserved. The man was finally happy and in love and Azimio knew for a fact that no one, no other dude from Dave’s past came close to loving him as much as Kurt did. Azimio grumbled with himself once more. He forced himself to just stop the fucking pity parade right there. He was happy for Dave. And Kurt. He still had his best friend…even if he did have to share him a little. Kurt was good for Dave, Dave was happy. And Azimio was fine with that.

He’d just have to make sure they hung out more regularly. And he realized Kim was right. They could do things together, the four of them and it wouldn’t be weird. What was it Dave had said to him at the wedding? That he should probably listen to his wife more often. He pulled into his driveway, looked up at his house and sighed…yeah, he could do that.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Brittany and Santana giggled as they ran off towards her room. “What kind of game are we going to play this time?” Brittany asked excitedly.

“You like the games we play, Brit?” Santana asked coyly, taking a step back and sitting on the edge of her bed.

“Yes. I love playing games with you, San. Pretend time is my favorite game ever.”

Santana stared the floor, kicking at the carpet. She huffed and crossed her arms, speaking quietly, “I don’t want to pretend anymore. I’m tired of being the mistress and I’m tired of pretending to be your slave. I want it to be real.” Santana hadn’t planned on saying any of that. Even her tone surprised her.

Brittany was confused. “You don’t want to play games? I thought you liked them.”

“I do…it’s not that. It’s…” Santana picked at her fingernails distractedly, confused by her own feelings. She’d never felt them before and they scared her. Sometimes she wished Kurt had never suggested she try to make Brittany happy or that they never started playing the games that they did. But when she was being honest with herself…she just wished she didn’t have to pretend. “I guess, Brit…I guess I just want to pretend that it’s real.”

Brittany sat down on the bed next to her and stared at the floor too. She crossed her arms and slumped her shoulders like Santana and sighed. “Ok. So…how about we make a new game.”

“What new game?” Santana asked glumly.

“Instead of taking turns being the mistress and the slave…let’s um…” Brittany twisted her lips, thinking hard. Everything they’d done felt really nice. It was exciting…and the risk of getting caught was sometimes the best part. They knew that Dave and Kurt didn’t mind but they liked to pretend that they might be punished sometimes. “Remember when Kurt said that his parents were slaves and they fell in love. I don’t know if they were pretending or if somehow they really felt it but…but they were together and they had a baby and Kurt was able to learn about love from them.”

Santana kicked at the carpet, listening to her.

“Maybe we can pretend we’re both slaves, not a mistress and a slave. Maybe we can pretend that we found out what love was and we found out what real pleasure was and when our masters aren’t around, we can do whatever we want.”

A tiny smile curled the corners of Santana’s lips. “I like the sound of that game,” she said quietly. “We can pretend that our masters are gone on their honeymoon and they left us alone for the whole week and we can…we can pretend that we love each other and we can do anything we want.”

“Anything at all.” Brittany nodded, moving her hand over and covering Santana’s with it. “I love you, Santana.”

Santana snapped her eyes up to Brittany’s, shocked at hearing those words come so easily from Brit’s mouth but then quickly realizing Brittany was already pretending. She smiled, sighing deeply as she squeezed back at Brittany’s hand. “I love you, too, Brit.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Oh my god!” Dave squealed…literally squealed as they came into the stadium.

“You’re going to make that noise several times during today’s little outing, aren’t you?” Kurt snorted, shaking his head.

Dave narrowed his eyes at his husband’s patronizing look. “I’ll try to refrain from making any more girly sounds. I know how much you like to be the one to make them instead.”

Kurt dropped his jaw. “You…” then shut his mouth, thinking better of what he was going to say. This was going to be a great day, despite the cold November air and the mindless sport of crashing helmets. This was for Dave. He should just shut his mouth. And smile.

They continued down the steps to their seats. Dave’s eyes got increasingly larger as they continued down and got nearer to the field. “Holy shit, I can’t believe this. Fifty-yard line, fifth row, right behind the Patriots bench. I’ve never seen a game like this before. God, I don’t even wanna know how much these tickets cost.”

“And you won’t know,” Kurt answered as they stepped into their aisle. He sat happily, his hands on his knees, waiting for Dave to finish looking around at the crowd and the players on the field as they warmed up with passes and stretches. There was a cameraman and a female sports reporter standing right in front of them, taping an interview. His mouth was hanging open and he looked like a little kid in a toy store for the first time. Dave finally sat down, looking over and meeting Kurt’s amused smile. “Happy birthday, Dave. I really hope you like your gift.”

“I fuckin love it, Kurt. This is amazing. I don’t think I’ll ever top this.”

“Um, no. Dave, darling, if you remember…my birthday weekend in Vegas was so much more incredible than this. I mean, three days of nonstop entertainment, incredible meals and elevator and hottub sex compared to a couple hours of sitting in the cold watching men grunt and hurt each other. I hardly think they compare. But hey, if you still feel the need to outdo yourself come next year…I won’t argue with you. I’ll just have to find a way to outdo whatever you come up with.”

“Deal,” Dave answered, leaning in to place a light kiss on his husband’s lips.

Kurt pulled back from the kiss quickly. “Oh, look, Tom Brady’s ass!”

Dave snapped his eyes forward, scanning the sea of tight silver pants looking for the butt in question. It only took his brain a second and a half to catch up with what Kurt had done. His eyes landed on Tom Brady standing right in front of them then looked back at Kurt guiltily. “Not fair,” he replied sheepishly.

“Oh, honey, come on. I just think it’s silly of you to try to deny it. You think he’s cute, so what. He’s got a boyish charm and he’s an amazing athlete and you sometimes wonder what it would be like to have him deep throat your enormous cock. I’m ok with that.”

Dave shook his head, looking down and trying not to laugh. Kurt fumbled with his program, “But tell me something…that one there, Gronkowski…he’s kind cute. If it says he’s a tight end, does that mean he really has a tight end?”

Dave looked back up, meeting Kurt’s eyes and his wide smile. “God, I love you,” he mumbled just before their lips met again.

“Ok, enough of that mushy stuff. This is football. Get in the game!” Kurt was intent on just repeating random phrases he’d heard people say while watching football throughout the next four quarters. Much to Dave’s amusement.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was the middle of the third quarter and Kurt had to pee. He was bored, mostly, but having to pee was his excuse to get up. “Do you want another beer, Dave?”

“I’ll go with you, Kurt. I don’t mind.”

“No, it’s alright. You stay here and stare at the cute butts. Maybe there’ll be another three and out, whatever that is…and I’ll be right back.” Kurt made his way up the steps and found the restroom he’d already visited twice. Beer had a way of going through him and he never understood how Dave could drink so much of it and just sit and be fine. He walked through the entrance to the men’s just as another man was coming out. They barely brushed shoulders and in that split second of eye contact, there was instant recognition.

Kurt continued inside, quickly finding a stall and closing the door. The wave of emotions washing over him was intense. That was him. The man from Dave’s dinner party. The guy with the funny eyebrows that Kurt had pleasured. Kurt struggled for a few minutes to get a grip on what exactly he was feeling. He wasn’t angry. He held no lingering hostility for the man. But he was sure that Dave did and he was suddenly very thankful that Dave was still in his seat. But his feelings? If anything, he understood and…oddly enough, felt bad for him. Dave’s reaction had been needlessly aggressive. Kurt had been a slave. That was his place. Maybe Eyebrows should have asked directly but he was probably accustomed to domestic aides being freely offered by most party hosts. And they are generally. That’s what Kurt had found out, at least, in the time since his emancipation. It really wasn’t that big a deal.

No, Kurt wasn’t upset at seeing the man. He was saddened actually. It wasn’t very often that Kurt was confronted by such a stark reminder of his former life. He and Dave had come so far. In the two years since they been together, happily and blissfully in love, they rarely mentioned or thought about the time before now…when Kurt was his slave.

Kurt didn’t understand it at the time…but Dave had felt more for him than slaveowner’s generally felt. It wasn’t love of course, not yet. But it was respect and admiration and an unyielding need to protect. That was the real reason for the punch and the poor guy getting thrown out. It took a while for Kurt to figure it all out, to feel ok with it and to move on. And now, seeing that man, it brought it all back up. He sighed deeply as he studied his refelction in the mirror, drying his hands and walking out of the restroom and towards a concession stand to buy Dave his beer.

And there he was. Leaning against a pillar in the middle of the milling crowd, his eyes intent on Kurt. Kurt got in line and waited.

“Hi,” Eyebrows spoke up, standing in line behind Kurt. “I’m so sorry but I get the feeling we’ve met before and I can’t place where, exactly.”

Kurt snapped his face around, shock evident in his expression. He didn’t even remember Kurt. Or, didn’t remember exactly who he was and what they’d done. And now that Kurt had a whole two seconds to think about it, that made sense. Kurt looked nothing like he did back then, even if he hadn’t really changed at all. Kurt was a freeperson. And with that change, everything changed. Kurt held the man’s gaze and smiled politely.

“I’m Blaine. Blaine Anderson. We have met before, haven’t we?”

“Yes, Mr. Anderson. We have.”

There was a small smile and a guilty head shake. “I’m sorry, but…I’m trying to place where exactly.”

Kurt turned forward, moving up in line. Did he tell the guy the truth? Or just play coy, brush off the run-in and go back to his husband. The line moved ahead again and Kurt took another step.

“I work at Saint Elizabeth’s,” he persisted. “Is that maybe where we’ve met?” his voice was sincere and kind behind Kurt.

“No,” Kurt shook his head. He turned slightly, catching the dapper smile and charm oozing from the man. Kurt snorted to himself as a thought occurred to him. He’d never seen this side of Blaine Anderson…he was focused on another part of the man’s anatomy. The line moved and Kurt was standing at the counter. He quickly ordered his beer and paid, stepping away as the man behind him ordered as well.

“Hey, hold up,” Eyebrows was calling after him.

Kurt set his beer on a nearby table and waited, not knowing where this might actually lead. He turned back around and was again blinded by the smaller man’s wide smile and eager expression. “If you tell me how we know each other, then maybe…maybe we can talk. Catch up. I’d love to get your number even…”

“Oh my god, you’re hitting on me.” Kurt was flabbergasted. He was so very happy Dave was still in his seat.

“What, what is it?”

“It’s just that you asked my husband out about two and a half years ago.”

“Who are you?” The poor guy was getting frustrated. “How do we know each other? I’m really sorry I can’t remember…but--”

“On your knees, slave, before your master starts to miss me,” Kurt repeated the words he heard echoing so clearly in his mind, zero emotion in his voice, staring blankly at the man.

A confused look passed over the man’s face. And stayed there. He cocked his head to the side, still smiling slightly, trying to understand the words that Kurt had just spoken. A beat, and then another passing and he still was not getting it. And then. He gasped quietly, taking a step back and looking Kurt up and down. “No…”

Kurt snorted, nodding at the man’s lightbulb moment.

“You’re the…the housekeeper,” he spoke in a hushed tone so others wouldn’t hear, “that I took a hit to the face for?”

“You remember that part.”

“I’m sorry…I just…you’re not…you don’t look like…I mean…what happened?”

Kurt shook his head. He did feel sorry for the man, if he was being honest with himself. He had no reason to be bitter. “I won my emancipation. Dave Karofsky, your host, the man you asked out, the man who punched you after I performed oral sex for you, we fell in love and he’s my husband now.” Kurt held up his left hand, wiggling his finger as proof. “Married, happily, for over seven months. Today is his birthday and I bought him tickets to see the game.”

Blaine was stunned, speechless, slack-jawed and unblinking.

“I want you to know, Mr. Anderson, that I forgive you. I still don’t think you meant any harm by what you did and Dave and I will always agree to disagree as to whether you are an insufferable douche. I have the unique perspective of being the only one who can really understand the overpowering and irresistible need for slaves to please their masters...and their master’s dinner guests. But if you came into our home now, and forced yourself on our housekeeper, I’d be just as upset as Dave was back then. So, next time…just ask first.”

He blinked, once. Still stunned and still unmoving.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to take my husband’s beer to him now. Enjoy the rest of the game,” Kurt smiled politely and left the man standing where he was, alone, still unable to reply.

Kurt found his seat, excusing himself as he walked past the four or five people into the aisle. He handed Dave his beer and sat down, taking a long, deep cleansing breath and letting go of all the remnants of resentment and unpleasantness that he felt. He looked over at his husband who was taking a rather large gulp from his draft, and smiled.

“I love you, Dave, so much.”

Dave met Kurt’s eyes immediately, noticing the moisture that was dampening his eyelashes. “Kurt? Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Did something…” he glanced quickly towards the top of the section, in the direction of the concession area that had kept Kurt for so long, “did something happen up there? Why are you crying? What happened?”

Kurt smiled, sniffling though his tears. There was that familiar, uncompromising need Dave had for protecting him. Even when there was nothing to protect him from, Dave was there. “Don’t worry, Dave. Nothing happened up there that you need to be concerned about. Just…I just wanted you to know how much I love you. And...happy birthday.”

Dave furrowed his eyebrows, not sure if he should trust Kurt to tell him the whole story. But he had no choice. He set his beer in his cup holder and turned towards Kurt, taking both hands in his. “I love you too, Kurt. You mean…so much to me. This is the best birthday ever and I…god, I can’t wait to get you home tonight.”

“Oh really,” Kurt smirked back at Dave’s hungry eyes. “You’re suddenly eager to leave your prime Brady ass-viewing location and head home?

“Well, um. As soon as the game’s over,” Dave amended.

“Mm-hmm. And, since it’s your birthday, I guess that means you get to do whatever you want to do tonight…huh? Anything at all.”

Dave nodded, remembering the agreement they made last year at that time. “Anything at all,” Dave repeated.

“Too bad Brady isn’t coming home with us,” Kurt mumbled under his breath as he reached for Dave’s beer. “I’d like to see him try to deep throat that.” He shot a glance towards Dave’s crotch then back to his eyes as he brought the cup of beer to his lips and took a long, satisfying drink.