Spin Me High, Watch Me As I Glide (A Peasant's Honour Pt 2)
Author: daltoneering
Rating: R
Word Count: 4276
Summary: As the Ceremony of the Butchered Horse continues, Blaine finds himself in a situation he'd never thought he'd be in - not that he has any complaints. Unfortunately, social ranking and servant duties come between him and his impossible reality. Sequel to Take Me In, Turn Me Inside Out.
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Soft skin pressed against soft skin, heat from their bodies melting together, hands drifting over planes and curves and sinking into hair, lips sliding and slipping against each other as their tongues flick and twist and dance.
Blaine lets out a soft moan as Kurt touches his lips to his chin and jawbone and neck, shifting and sliding his leg up around his waist, pressing them closer together. Kurt’s hand trails up his bare chest from his hip, fluttering across his nipples and shoulder and coming to rest cupping his face. He uses it to tilt Blaine’s head to the side, granting him access to his neck where he continues to suck and nibble and lick. Blaine is certain there’s a bruise forming and he has absolutely no idea how he’s going to explain it Bayne. He gasps as Kurt nips sharply, twisting around to capture his lips again, hands skimming the milky expanse of Kurt’s back.
Kurt groans, hand tightening around Blaine’s waist, and flips them over. They wobble slightly, precariously close to the edge of the heap of cushions and blankets, but manage to right themselves, and Blaine presses down eagerly against Kurt again.
He can feel Kurt’s hardness pressed against his through his soft leather pants, and grins against Kurt’s mouth as he rolls his hips down. Kurt lets out a loud gasp, one hand sliding down Blaine’s back and gripping his ass, pushing them together again and rolling his hips up to meet him.
“Nngh, Kurt,” mutters Blaine, moving his mouth down to lick and suck at Kurt’s delicious collarbone. Kurt writhes underneath him, legs twisting up around Blaine’s thigh and hip as he continues to thrust.
“Don’t - don’t stop doing that,” pants Kurt, tipping his head back as Blaine sucks a deep hickey into his clavicle.
Blaine continues the roll and thrust of his hips, feeling himself teeter closer and closer to the edge. Underneath him, Kurt’s hips are stuttering, his grip on his ass and in his hair tightens, and then he’s crying out, head falling backwards in ecstasy, Blaine’s name on his lips.
Blaine pauses in his thrusting, still so tantalizingly close, in awe as Kurt comes. The beautiful sight of his gaping mouth and tightly squeezed eyes are almost enough to send him over too, and he tips his hips forward a couple more times before bright white obscures his vision and he groans loudly against Kurt’s chest, his orgasm shooting through him and alighting every nerve.
He comes to a couple of minutes later, breathing hard as he nuzzles into Kurt’s chest. He can feel hands moving gently through his hair, and blearily blinks his eyes open. Kurt is gazing down at him, at contented smile on his lips. Blaine smiles back and presses a kiss to Kurt’s chest.
He shifts, grimacing at the sticky unpleasantness in his underthings, and stands up. The tent Kurt had pulled him into shortly after they had started kissing isn’t very high here by the wall, and even he has to duck a little as he finds his tunic and shrugs it back on. Kurt rolls over on the pile of cushions they had been lucky to find already amassed in the tent - probably left over from the events of the day, when the nobility had wanted to sit comfortably to watch - and sighs happily.
“I feel gross,” he says, getting up and picking up his tunic from where he had neatly folded it on the floor. “But that was amazing. Thank you, Blaine.” He leans in to kiss him, and Blaine responds eagerly, grasping his elbows and pulling them closer together.
Kurt lets out a soft laugh. “Whoa there,” he says. “Let’s not get carried away again. I don’t want to make my pants even worse.”
“Sorry.”
“Blaine, there is absolutely no reason for you to apologise, so stop.” Kurt finishes buttoning up his tunic along the diagonal collar and slips into his doublet. “Can you lace me up?”
Blaine steps behind Kurt, pulling the laces of the doublet - dark blue silk with gold embroidery - tight as Kurt wriggles his shoulders. He’s still unsure about everything that had just happened and exactly what Kurt wants with him. It had been great, certainly, and he definitely wouldn’t mind doing it again, but why so suddenly and so much?
Kurt turns around when he’s done and lays his arms on Blaine’s shoulders, a small smile twitching at his lips. Blaine blinks up at him through his eyelashes, then settles his hands on Kurt’s waist. Kurt’s smile grows, and he leans forward to kiss him again. When he pulls away, he keeps his eyes closed, and gently leans his forehead against Blaine’s.
“Kurt,” starts Blaine quietly. Kurt hums, and Blaine takes it as a sign to continue. “Why… what are we doing?”
Kurt pulls back, eyes opening and a concerned expression shrouding his face. “What do you mean?” he asks.
“I mean, we just… started kissing. And then it progressed to that. And now you’re here still, and I’m really confused, because we only met today and you’re the prince and I’m just a servant and I don’t even know if this is just a random hook-up so that you can release your urges or whatever or whether it actually means something and I want it to mean something because I’ve never kissed anyone before let alone done - done that with them and I really liked it but -“
He’s silenced by a gentle kiss from Kurt. “Blaine, shh,” murmurs Kurt as he pulls away. “It’s not just some random - you’re not - this means a lot to me too, okay?”
Blaine looks between Kurt’s eyes, only just distinguishably blue in the soft light from the lantern at the entrance to the tent, and nods. Kurt smiles and takes his hands in his, twisting their fingers together.
“You were my first kiss, too,” he admits quietly, still looking down at their intertwined hands. “And I know that there’s a big gap in social ranking between us, certainly, but I really like you, and I don’t care about that.” He looks up, meeting Blaine’s gaze. “And I want us to be able to see each other again.”
Blaine nods quickly, relieved by Kurt’s admittance, and brings his hand up to stroke Kurt’s cheek gently. “So do I,” he says shyly.
Kurt smiles and leans forward to press their lips together again. The kiss stretches out, their hands wrapping around each other again as it becomes more passionate and heated. Kurt begins walking them backwards until Blaine is pressed against the centre pole of the tent, and slots a leg between his thighs.
Things are just starting to get interesting when there’s a shout from outside, and Kurt pulls back quickly. “Shit,” he whispers, “they’re wondering where I’ve gone.” He immediately starts fiddling with his hair, and Blaine helps, straightening out his doublet and tightening the belt they had just started to loosen.
“Prince Kurt!” comes another cry, closer. “Your Majesty!”
Kurt kisses Blaine quickly once more, hisses “I’ll see you soon,” and then he’s gone.
Blaine leans his head back against the pole, belt hanging open, tunic rumpled, and his erection causing an impressive bulge in his pants. He sinks down slowly to the floor, drops his hands to his sides, and grins so hard his cheeks hurt.
*
It’s another three days until they see each other properly again.
Blaine has been busy, as the Ceremony lasts a week, and the tournament just as long. He wakes up before dawn each morning and goes to bed late into the night, once the field has been cleared and the horses have been tended to and the servants can finally eat their evening meal. Bayne keeps him on his toes, not giving him anymore free time after that first evening off, and Blaine finds himself growing more and more frustrated.
He sees Kurt, of course, every now and then - he’s even served him at the banquet table. Whenever their eyes meet he has to look away to avoid turning an embarrassing shade of crimson, but he never misses the secret smirk that settles on Kurt’s face when he sees him. Kurt seems to enjoy teasing him, accidentally spilling his wine so that Blaine has to refill it, demanding extra helpings of whatever Blaine is serving, glancing over at him from his seat at the front of the King’s tent during the joust.
Kurt still hasn’t competed, but Blaine remembers seeing him practising his swordsmanship, and he’s eager to see him against an opponent. He decides to bring it up next time they’re together.
It actually happens in one of the ways Blaine was least expecting. He’s sitting in the servants’ hall, exhausted, hunched over his supper (dry bread with a piece of lean left over from the Hog Roast earlier in the day). Beside him, Rachel is bickering with Santana, a chamber maid, about one of Lord Castelnaudary’s knights, Sir Weston. Rachel keeps on about how attractive he is, and how strong, whereas Santana is trying to convince her that he looks like an idiot and isn’t worth it and that she should stick with Sir Hudson. Blaine decides not to comment on how hypocritical her advice is, knowing both about her secret relationship with Lady Morris’ favourite lady-in-waiting Brittany and that she was seen leaving Sir Evans’ rooms at an early hour of the morning the previous night.
He scrapes up the last of the meagre sauce with his remaining crust of bread and pushes his plate towards the middle of the table, leaning forward and resting his head on his arms, attempting to block out Rachel and Santana’s conversation. He hears a door open, and presuming it’s just another one of the servants coming in after a long day’s duty, doesn’t look up. He does notice, however, how the girls’ argument has ceased, their voices brought down to secretive, gossiping whispers.
Blaine sits up and looks over to the door. His heart must miss a couple of beats.
Kurt is quietly talking to a very anxious-looking Bayne, resplendent in his purple and emerald and dark red clothing, completely at contrast to everything else in the room. Blaine can’t hear their conversation, but he sees Bayne look nervously over the room a couple of times, wringing his hands, nodding.
Eventually Kurt steps back - Blaine cringes as he sees his beautiful, shiny black boots sink into the mat of hay and reeds that covers the floor - and Bayne looks around anxiously again before hurrying over to their table.
“Is everything okay?” asks Rachel eagerly, always the first to speak. “Does the prince need anything? His clothes pressing? More food? Someone to clean his room?” She drops her voice. “A lovely lady to warm his bed?”
Blaine has to hide a smirk.
“No, no,” says Bayne, flapping his hand at her to shut her up. Rachel looks like she’s about to add something, but receives a well-practised bitch-glare from Santana and closes her mouth.
Bayne turns to Blaine. “His Highness says he was preparing his horse for a moonlit ride, but there was a problem with the saddle, and it needs fixing.” Blaine sees the brief look of confusion at “moonlit ride” - it’s true, it’s not something he would expect a prince to do either. “He was asking whether we had a boy who would be willing to go and fix it and then ride out with him in case there are any more problems.”
Blaine nods. “I can go,” he says, trying to keep his eyes from flickering over to Kurt, who he can feel is watching him, in his excitement.
“Thank you, Blaine,” says Bayne, using a strange tone that could almost be affection, if it weren’t Bayne. Blaine wonders if it’s because Kurt is in earshot. “I would send Artie or Rory, I know they have more stable knowledge than you do, but they’re still out clearing up from the feast.”
“That’s fine,” says Blaine. “Absolutely. I’ll, er, just go and get my cloak.”
“Hurry!” barks Bayne after him as he jogs over to the stairs.
Once he’s alone in his room, Blaine can’t resist squealing a little and bouncing happily as he unhooks his cloak from the peg on the wall. It’s only wool, not particularly warm, but it’ll do the job - and besides, he hopes to have something or someone else warming him up for at least part of tonight.
He’s back downstairs quickly. Kurt is still waiting by the door, looking particularly regal and very out of place in his fur-lined cloak. Bayne nods at him as Blaine saunters meekly over to Kurt, keeping his eyes downcast.
Kurt turns and opens the door without acknowledging him. Blaine follows him through, acting the shy and obedient servant as he struggles to keep up with Kurt’s quick pace. The castle is still busy, other servants hurrying past them and bowing to Kurt, and Blaine knows how important it is to keep up appearances, so he keeps his head down and follows the back of Kurt’s calves.
The stables aren’t far from the servants’ hall, so they don’t have a long way to go. Kurt checks there’s no one else inside before entering and letting the door swing shut behind him.
There are a couple of seconds where the darkness filling the room is laced with silence, then Blaine lets out a needy but contented gasp as Kurt pushes him up against the wall, pinning his wrists up and attacking his mouth. Blaine responds eagerly, opening up under Kurt’s tongue and kissing him back with just as much effort.
Their tongues play back and forth for a few minutes before Kurt pulls back, panting.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he says.
Blaine smiles wickedly. “I’ve missed you too.”
Kurt releases his hands and turns around, fumbling as he makes his way past the stalls to the dim lantern at the other end of the stables. “I wasn’t just making up an excuse to come and see you, you know,” he calls, unhooking the lantern from the wall and returning towards him. “I do actually want to go on a moonlit ride. And there is something wrong with my saddle. And you are coming with me.”
Blaine grins as Kurt lights one of the bracketed torches by the door, and the stables are filled with the soft glow of the orange light. A horse nickers as Kurt puts the lantern down.
“Let me fix your saddle,” says Blaine. “The sooner we go out, the longer we can stay out, the better.”
Kurt nods. “This way,” he says.
He leads Blaine to the biggest stall, right at the end, where a gleaming chestnut mare is curiously watching them as she munches on the hay hanging from the wall. “This is Pumpkin,” says Kurt as he opens the door to the stall and fondly runs a hand over her rump. “Say hello to Blaine, Pumpkin.”
Blaine smiles at the name and reaches over to pat her neck. Pumpkin whinnies and nudges his hand with her nose.
“She wants you to give her an apple,” laughs Kurt.
Blaine shrugs, showing Pumpkin his empty hands. “Sorry, Pumpkin,” he says. “I don’t have any apples.”
Pumpkin nickers and turns back to her hay.
Kurt pats her one last time, his features flooded with affection, before turning back to Blaine. He steps out of the stall and picks up the saddle that had been sitting on the floor beside it. “I’m not entirely sure what’s wrong,” says Kurt, holding it out, “but the girth keeps coming loose. Could you, er…?”
“Yeah, I’ll take a look.” Blaine takes the saddle from him and flips it over, fiddling with the brass buckles that attach the girth to the actual saddle. It’s nice to work with one that’s such high quality as Kurt’s.
He soon finds the problem; one of the buckles had come loose and the tongue kept slipping out of the holes in the strap. He fixes it with the tools hanging by the many trunks of tack that Lord Morris keeps in here, and tests it.
“That should be working again,” he says, handing the saddle back to Kurt, who has been sitting on a small stool watching him. Kurt thanks him with a brief peck and slips into Pumpkin’s stall again to tack her up.
Once Pumpkin is fully ready, Kurt leads her out into the aisle between the two rows of stalls and swings himself up onto his back. Blaine swallows, hard; Kurt looks extremely good and - well, sexy, perched up there, smirking down at him slightly.
“Well,” says Kurt, “are you coming or not?”
Blaine grins, and grabs onto Kurt’s hand so that he can pull him up behind him. He settles down on the back of the saddle, wrapping his arms snugly around Kurt’s waist. Kurt twists round to smile at him. “Ready?” he asks. Blaine nods.
Kurt taps Pumpkin to a quick walk and leans forward to push open the door that leads out to the fields. Once they’re out of the stables, he turns round to push it shut again behind them, then urges Pumpkin to a canter, and they’re off.
They ride for a while before Kurt shows any sign of slowing. Blaine wraps his arms tighter around the narrow body in front of him and tries to ignore how his crotch is pressed up against Kurt’s ass with every second beat.
They do eventually stop, a couple of miles from the castle, beside a river that gleams silver in the moonlight. Blaine slides off first, stumbling a little as his feet touch the ground, and watches as Kurt positively mocks him as he swings down as gracefully as if he had been doing it all his life - which, to be fair, he probably has. Kurt’s eyes flicker down to Blaine’s crotch, donning an interested smirk, but Blaine simply raises his eyebrows at him. It is painfully obvious that Kurt is affected in much the same way.
Blaine shrugs off his cloak and lays it out on the sandy grass by the river shore. Kurt lets Pumpkin wander off towards a pool further downstream and settles beside him on the cloak.
Blaine feels Kurt intertwine their fingers and glances across at him, smiling softly. Kurt looks just as beautiful in the moonlight as he did last time they were together like this, his skin almost glowing. Blaine leans across and gently places a kiss on his lips.
He feels Kurt smile and brings up a hand to twine it in thick, chestnut hair. Kurt’s mouth moves slowly under his as he wraps his arm around Blaine’s shoulder to lie down with him.
This time, it’s much slower, much more romantic. Perhaps because now Blaine knows that this isn’t just something trivial to Kurt, that it means something to him too, even if they haven’t been together or even known each other long enough to figure out what that is. Blaine can feel it, though, tugging at his heartstrings as Kurt lays him out and presses soft kisses down his chest, and he knows it’s not long until he’ll have fallen completely.
And when Blaine falls, he falls hard.
Kurt is soft and gentle and so, so lovely, his skin glinting in the moonlight, his eyes shining bright silvery-blue, hands caressing Blaine’s skin, taking him apart and putting him back together again. He trails over the strings that do up Blaine’s pants, and Blaine nods, gasping when Kurt begins to pull them apart and down and then he’s exposed, and vulnerable, but he doesn’t care in the least because it’s Kurt and he’s slowly beginning to realise that he would do anything for the wonderful boy, this wonderful man.
Kurt takes him in hand gently, kissing softly at the skin around his navel, stroking slowly and surely. Blaine sighs and grunts and then lets out a loud cry of ecstasy when Kurt sinks his mouth down around him.
It’s warm and wet and it feels so good, and he threads his fingers in Kurt’s hair, looking down at him through half-lidded eyes as he bobs and licks and sucks. Blaine wants to ask him where he learnt to do such amazing things with his mouth, but he doesn’t think he has quite the presence of mind to form complete sentences at the moment. Kurt keeps glancing at him darkly every time he sinks his head down, and Blaine feels himself draw tenser as he approaches the edge. He’s mumbling, incoherent even to himself, fingers digging into Kurt’s scalp as he barely guides him back and forward, up and down. He’s nearly there, can feel his balls draw up tight, and then Kurt pulls off, grins up at him through his eyelashes, and says, “You taste amazing, you know.”
And that’s what does it, he’s coming, thick white ropes shooting onto Kurt’s face before he sinks his mouth down again, drawing it out of him with long, heady sucks, and Blaine is coming so hard that he thinks he passes out for a couple of seconds.
As he floats back down to normality, he feels Kurt stretched out alongside him, and is suddenly struck by the thought that Kurt hasn’t gotten off yet - but then he manages to summon enough energy to open his eyes and look down, and Kurt’s pants show no sign of an erection.
“I came just after you did,” murmurs Kurt in his ear. “In my pants again. Obviously being with you is not doing my clothes any good.”
Blaine chuckles softly, rolling over and tucking his face into the crook of Kurt’s neck. Kurt leans over him to grasp the edge of his cloak, then pulls it up over them both, wrapping them up in a cocoon of warmth. Blaine snuggles closer to him.
“Just a few minutes,” whispers Kurt, “then we should head back. I don’t want to worry my father.”
Blaine tries to nod, but he’s too sleepy already, and instead just tightens his grip around Kurt’s waist and lets himself drift off.
*
When he wakes up, Kurt is gone, and he’s bundled up in both their cloaks.
He sits up blearily. It’s still night, but the moon has set, which means that they probably overslept and should have been back ages ago.
Rubbing his eyes, he notices the neatly folded pile of clothes by the river, and then hears the soft sound of splashing water. Sitting up further, he can see Kurt diligently washing himself, waist-deep in the water.
Blaine wriggles out of the cloaks, notices he’s still almost fully naked, shrugs, and pulls off his pants and stockings. He folds them up by his tunic before hurrying to the river’s edge, shivering.
He wades in slowly - the water is cold, and he’s still a little sensitive from before. Kurt obviously hasn’t seen or heard him yet, as he remains facing the opposite bank, scooping up water and rubbing it over his skin. Blaine stops when he’s just behind him, then falls forward, grabbing Kurt around the waist and pulling him down into the water with him. Kurt shrieks and splutters, lashing out weakly as he flounders. Blaine laughs, swimming away from Kurt, who is yelling at him good-naturedly. Blaine feels a tug on his feet and then Kurt is dragging him back towards him, ducking his head under briefly then pulling him out of the water again for a very wet kiss.
Blaine laughs, and kisses Kurt’s nose. “I think you’re properly clean now,” he says, rubbing their noses together. Kurt flicks his shoulder and stands up properly.
“You’re right,” he says, and sighs. “It’s really late, we should properly head back. I don’t want my father to worry.”
“Okay.”
Kurt gets out before him, a deep red blush spilling down his shoulders and back as Blaine takes the opportunity to admire Kurt’s very fine and very bare ass. But then Kurt’s quickly pulling on his underwear and Blaine loses his excellent view.
They dress quickly, wrapping their cloaks around each other, then Kurt goes to fetch Pumpkin from where she had wandered off downstream. He returns leading her, and motions Blaine to get up first. Blaine frowns a little, confused, but then Kurt slides up behind him and tucks his head over his shoulder and he understands.
The ride back to the castle is silent, as Kurt keeps his arms wrapped tightly around Blaine, mouth pressed gently against his neck as he rides. They stop near the gates to the stables so that Blaine can dismount and make his way back to the servants’ hall without raising any suspicions. Kurt gets off with him, folding him up in the tight embrace of a hug before kissing him passionately. Blaine kisses back, chasing his lips when they break apart, but Kurt places a finger on his mouth, smiling softly, and kisses his forehead before mounting again and giving Blaine a last smile.
“Wait!” calls out Blaine quietly, just as Pumpkin begins to walk off. Kurt stops her and twists around in the saddle. “When can I see you again?”
“Soon,” replies Kurt. “I promise, it’ll be soon.” He presses his fingers to his lips and waves them at Blaine, then disappears into the night. Blaine watches him go, a fond smile on his lips, something enormous and amazing spreading out from his heart and filling his limbs. Then he turns back to the servants’ hall.
*
From his window seat in the northwest wing of the castle, King Burt sees everything.
Rating: R
Word Count: 4276
Summary: As the Ceremony of the Butchered Horse continues, Blaine finds himself in a situation he'd never thought he'd be in - not that he has any complaints. Unfortunately, social ranking and servant duties come between him and his impossible reality. Sequel to Take Me In, Turn Me Inside Out.
Read on AO3 | Tumblr
Soft skin pressed against soft skin, heat from their bodies melting together, hands drifting over planes and curves and sinking into hair, lips sliding and slipping against each other as their tongues flick and twist and dance.
Blaine lets out a soft moan as Kurt touches his lips to his chin and jawbone and neck, shifting and sliding his leg up around his waist, pressing them closer together. Kurt’s hand trails up his bare chest from his hip, fluttering across his nipples and shoulder and coming to rest cupping his face. He uses it to tilt Blaine’s head to the side, granting him access to his neck where he continues to suck and nibble and lick. Blaine is certain there’s a bruise forming and he has absolutely no idea how he’s going to explain it Bayne. He gasps as Kurt nips sharply, twisting around to capture his lips again, hands skimming the milky expanse of Kurt’s back.
Kurt groans, hand tightening around Blaine’s waist, and flips them over. They wobble slightly, precariously close to the edge of the heap of cushions and blankets, but manage to right themselves, and Blaine presses down eagerly against Kurt again.
He can feel Kurt’s hardness pressed against his through his soft leather pants, and grins against Kurt’s mouth as he rolls his hips down. Kurt lets out a loud gasp, one hand sliding down Blaine’s back and gripping his ass, pushing them together again and rolling his hips up to meet him.
“Nngh, Kurt,” mutters Blaine, moving his mouth down to lick and suck at Kurt’s delicious collarbone. Kurt writhes underneath him, legs twisting up around Blaine’s thigh and hip as he continues to thrust.
“Don’t - don’t stop doing that,” pants Kurt, tipping his head back as Blaine sucks a deep hickey into his clavicle.
Blaine continues the roll and thrust of his hips, feeling himself teeter closer and closer to the edge. Underneath him, Kurt’s hips are stuttering, his grip on his ass and in his hair tightens, and then he’s crying out, head falling backwards in ecstasy, Blaine’s name on his lips.
Blaine pauses in his thrusting, still so tantalizingly close, in awe as Kurt comes. The beautiful sight of his gaping mouth and tightly squeezed eyes are almost enough to send him over too, and he tips his hips forward a couple more times before bright white obscures his vision and he groans loudly against Kurt’s chest, his orgasm shooting through him and alighting every nerve.
He comes to a couple of minutes later, breathing hard as he nuzzles into Kurt’s chest. He can feel hands moving gently through his hair, and blearily blinks his eyes open. Kurt is gazing down at him, at contented smile on his lips. Blaine smiles back and presses a kiss to Kurt’s chest.
He shifts, grimacing at the sticky unpleasantness in his underthings, and stands up. The tent Kurt had pulled him into shortly after they had started kissing isn’t very high here by the wall, and even he has to duck a little as he finds his tunic and shrugs it back on. Kurt rolls over on the pile of cushions they had been lucky to find already amassed in the tent - probably left over from the events of the day, when the nobility had wanted to sit comfortably to watch - and sighs happily.
“I feel gross,” he says, getting up and picking up his tunic from where he had neatly folded it on the floor. “But that was amazing. Thank you, Blaine.” He leans in to kiss him, and Blaine responds eagerly, grasping his elbows and pulling them closer together.
Kurt lets out a soft laugh. “Whoa there,” he says. “Let’s not get carried away again. I don’t want to make my pants even worse.”
“Sorry.”
“Blaine, there is absolutely no reason for you to apologise, so stop.” Kurt finishes buttoning up his tunic along the diagonal collar and slips into his doublet. “Can you lace me up?”
Blaine steps behind Kurt, pulling the laces of the doublet - dark blue silk with gold embroidery - tight as Kurt wriggles his shoulders. He’s still unsure about everything that had just happened and exactly what Kurt wants with him. It had been great, certainly, and he definitely wouldn’t mind doing it again, but why so suddenly and so much?
Kurt turns around when he’s done and lays his arms on Blaine’s shoulders, a small smile twitching at his lips. Blaine blinks up at him through his eyelashes, then settles his hands on Kurt’s waist. Kurt’s smile grows, and he leans forward to kiss him again. When he pulls away, he keeps his eyes closed, and gently leans his forehead against Blaine’s.
“Kurt,” starts Blaine quietly. Kurt hums, and Blaine takes it as a sign to continue. “Why… what are we doing?”
Kurt pulls back, eyes opening and a concerned expression shrouding his face. “What do you mean?” he asks.
“I mean, we just… started kissing. And then it progressed to that. And now you’re here still, and I’m really confused, because we only met today and you’re the prince and I’m just a servant and I don’t even know if this is just a random hook-up so that you can release your urges or whatever or whether it actually means something and I want it to mean something because I’ve never kissed anyone before let alone done - done that with them and I really liked it but -“
He’s silenced by a gentle kiss from Kurt. “Blaine, shh,” murmurs Kurt as he pulls away. “It’s not just some random - you’re not - this means a lot to me too, okay?”
Blaine looks between Kurt’s eyes, only just distinguishably blue in the soft light from the lantern at the entrance to the tent, and nods. Kurt smiles and takes his hands in his, twisting their fingers together.
“You were my first kiss, too,” he admits quietly, still looking down at their intertwined hands. “And I know that there’s a big gap in social ranking between us, certainly, but I really like you, and I don’t care about that.” He looks up, meeting Blaine’s gaze. “And I want us to be able to see each other again.”
Blaine nods quickly, relieved by Kurt’s admittance, and brings his hand up to stroke Kurt’s cheek gently. “So do I,” he says shyly.
Kurt smiles and leans forward to press their lips together again. The kiss stretches out, their hands wrapping around each other again as it becomes more passionate and heated. Kurt begins walking them backwards until Blaine is pressed against the centre pole of the tent, and slots a leg between his thighs.
Things are just starting to get interesting when there’s a shout from outside, and Kurt pulls back quickly. “Shit,” he whispers, “they’re wondering where I’ve gone.” He immediately starts fiddling with his hair, and Blaine helps, straightening out his doublet and tightening the belt they had just started to loosen.
“Prince Kurt!” comes another cry, closer. “Your Majesty!”
Kurt kisses Blaine quickly once more, hisses “I’ll see you soon,” and then he’s gone.
Blaine leans his head back against the pole, belt hanging open, tunic rumpled, and his erection causing an impressive bulge in his pants. He sinks down slowly to the floor, drops his hands to his sides, and grins so hard his cheeks hurt.
*
It’s another three days until they see each other properly again.
Blaine has been busy, as the Ceremony lasts a week, and the tournament just as long. He wakes up before dawn each morning and goes to bed late into the night, once the field has been cleared and the horses have been tended to and the servants can finally eat their evening meal. Bayne keeps him on his toes, not giving him anymore free time after that first evening off, and Blaine finds himself growing more and more frustrated.
He sees Kurt, of course, every now and then - he’s even served him at the banquet table. Whenever their eyes meet he has to look away to avoid turning an embarrassing shade of crimson, but he never misses the secret smirk that settles on Kurt’s face when he sees him. Kurt seems to enjoy teasing him, accidentally spilling his wine so that Blaine has to refill it, demanding extra helpings of whatever Blaine is serving, glancing over at him from his seat at the front of the King’s tent during the joust.
Kurt still hasn’t competed, but Blaine remembers seeing him practising his swordsmanship, and he’s eager to see him against an opponent. He decides to bring it up next time they’re together.
It actually happens in one of the ways Blaine was least expecting. He’s sitting in the servants’ hall, exhausted, hunched over his supper (dry bread with a piece of lean left over from the Hog Roast earlier in the day). Beside him, Rachel is bickering with Santana, a chamber maid, about one of Lord Castelnaudary’s knights, Sir Weston. Rachel keeps on about how attractive he is, and how strong, whereas Santana is trying to convince her that he looks like an idiot and isn’t worth it and that she should stick with Sir Hudson. Blaine decides not to comment on how hypocritical her advice is, knowing both about her secret relationship with Lady Morris’ favourite lady-in-waiting Brittany and that she was seen leaving Sir Evans’ rooms at an early hour of the morning the previous night.
He scrapes up the last of the meagre sauce with his remaining crust of bread and pushes his plate towards the middle of the table, leaning forward and resting his head on his arms, attempting to block out Rachel and Santana’s conversation. He hears a door open, and presuming it’s just another one of the servants coming in after a long day’s duty, doesn’t look up. He does notice, however, how the girls’ argument has ceased, their voices brought down to secretive, gossiping whispers.
Blaine sits up and looks over to the door. His heart must miss a couple of beats.
Kurt is quietly talking to a very anxious-looking Bayne, resplendent in his purple and emerald and dark red clothing, completely at contrast to everything else in the room. Blaine can’t hear their conversation, but he sees Bayne look nervously over the room a couple of times, wringing his hands, nodding.
Eventually Kurt steps back - Blaine cringes as he sees his beautiful, shiny black boots sink into the mat of hay and reeds that covers the floor - and Bayne looks around anxiously again before hurrying over to their table.
“Is everything okay?” asks Rachel eagerly, always the first to speak. “Does the prince need anything? His clothes pressing? More food? Someone to clean his room?” She drops her voice. “A lovely lady to warm his bed?”
Blaine has to hide a smirk.
“No, no,” says Bayne, flapping his hand at her to shut her up. Rachel looks like she’s about to add something, but receives a well-practised bitch-glare from Santana and closes her mouth.
Bayne turns to Blaine. “His Highness says he was preparing his horse for a moonlit ride, but there was a problem with the saddle, and it needs fixing.” Blaine sees the brief look of confusion at “moonlit ride” - it’s true, it’s not something he would expect a prince to do either. “He was asking whether we had a boy who would be willing to go and fix it and then ride out with him in case there are any more problems.”
Blaine nods. “I can go,” he says, trying to keep his eyes from flickering over to Kurt, who he can feel is watching him, in his excitement.
“Thank you, Blaine,” says Bayne, using a strange tone that could almost be affection, if it weren’t Bayne. Blaine wonders if it’s because Kurt is in earshot. “I would send Artie or Rory, I know they have more stable knowledge than you do, but they’re still out clearing up from the feast.”
“That’s fine,” says Blaine. “Absolutely. I’ll, er, just go and get my cloak.”
“Hurry!” barks Bayne after him as he jogs over to the stairs.
Once he’s alone in his room, Blaine can’t resist squealing a little and bouncing happily as he unhooks his cloak from the peg on the wall. It’s only wool, not particularly warm, but it’ll do the job - and besides, he hopes to have something or someone else warming him up for at least part of tonight.
He’s back downstairs quickly. Kurt is still waiting by the door, looking particularly regal and very out of place in his fur-lined cloak. Bayne nods at him as Blaine saunters meekly over to Kurt, keeping his eyes downcast.
Kurt turns and opens the door without acknowledging him. Blaine follows him through, acting the shy and obedient servant as he struggles to keep up with Kurt’s quick pace. The castle is still busy, other servants hurrying past them and bowing to Kurt, and Blaine knows how important it is to keep up appearances, so he keeps his head down and follows the back of Kurt’s calves.
The stables aren’t far from the servants’ hall, so they don’t have a long way to go. Kurt checks there’s no one else inside before entering and letting the door swing shut behind him.
There are a couple of seconds where the darkness filling the room is laced with silence, then Blaine lets out a needy but contented gasp as Kurt pushes him up against the wall, pinning his wrists up and attacking his mouth. Blaine responds eagerly, opening up under Kurt’s tongue and kissing him back with just as much effort.
Their tongues play back and forth for a few minutes before Kurt pulls back, panting.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he says.
Blaine smiles wickedly. “I’ve missed you too.”
Kurt releases his hands and turns around, fumbling as he makes his way past the stalls to the dim lantern at the other end of the stables. “I wasn’t just making up an excuse to come and see you, you know,” he calls, unhooking the lantern from the wall and returning towards him. “I do actually want to go on a moonlit ride. And there is something wrong with my saddle. And you are coming with me.”
Blaine grins as Kurt lights one of the bracketed torches by the door, and the stables are filled with the soft glow of the orange light. A horse nickers as Kurt puts the lantern down.
“Let me fix your saddle,” says Blaine. “The sooner we go out, the longer we can stay out, the better.”
Kurt nods. “This way,” he says.
He leads Blaine to the biggest stall, right at the end, where a gleaming chestnut mare is curiously watching them as she munches on the hay hanging from the wall. “This is Pumpkin,” says Kurt as he opens the door to the stall and fondly runs a hand over her rump. “Say hello to Blaine, Pumpkin.”
Blaine smiles at the name and reaches over to pat her neck. Pumpkin whinnies and nudges his hand with her nose.
“She wants you to give her an apple,” laughs Kurt.
Blaine shrugs, showing Pumpkin his empty hands. “Sorry, Pumpkin,” he says. “I don’t have any apples.”
Pumpkin nickers and turns back to her hay.
Kurt pats her one last time, his features flooded with affection, before turning back to Blaine. He steps out of the stall and picks up the saddle that had been sitting on the floor beside it. “I’m not entirely sure what’s wrong,” says Kurt, holding it out, “but the girth keeps coming loose. Could you, er…?”
“Yeah, I’ll take a look.” Blaine takes the saddle from him and flips it over, fiddling with the brass buckles that attach the girth to the actual saddle. It’s nice to work with one that’s such high quality as Kurt’s.
He soon finds the problem; one of the buckles had come loose and the tongue kept slipping out of the holes in the strap. He fixes it with the tools hanging by the many trunks of tack that Lord Morris keeps in here, and tests it.
“That should be working again,” he says, handing the saddle back to Kurt, who has been sitting on a small stool watching him. Kurt thanks him with a brief peck and slips into Pumpkin’s stall again to tack her up.
Once Pumpkin is fully ready, Kurt leads her out into the aisle between the two rows of stalls and swings himself up onto his back. Blaine swallows, hard; Kurt looks extremely good and - well, sexy, perched up there, smirking down at him slightly.
“Well,” says Kurt, “are you coming or not?”
Blaine grins, and grabs onto Kurt’s hand so that he can pull him up behind him. He settles down on the back of the saddle, wrapping his arms snugly around Kurt’s waist. Kurt twists round to smile at him. “Ready?” he asks. Blaine nods.
Kurt taps Pumpkin to a quick walk and leans forward to push open the door that leads out to the fields. Once they’re out of the stables, he turns round to push it shut again behind them, then urges Pumpkin to a canter, and they’re off.
They ride for a while before Kurt shows any sign of slowing. Blaine wraps his arms tighter around the narrow body in front of him and tries to ignore how his crotch is pressed up against Kurt’s ass with every second beat.
They do eventually stop, a couple of miles from the castle, beside a river that gleams silver in the moonlight. Blaine slides off first, stumbling a little as his feet touch the ground, and watches as Kurt positively mocks him as he swings down as gracefully as if he had been doing it all his life - which, to be fair, he probably has. Kurt’s eyes flicker down to Blaine’s crotch, donning an interested smirk, but Blaine simply raises his eyebrows at him. It is painfully obvious that Kurt is affected in much the same way.
Blaine shrugs off his cloak and lays it out on the sandy grass by the river shore. Kurt lets Pumpkin wander off towards a pool further downstream and settles beside him on the cloak.
Blaine feels Kurt intertwine their fingers and glances across at him, smiling softly. Kurt looks just as beautiful in the moonlight as he did last time they were together like this, his skin almost glowing. Blaine leans across and gently places a kiss on his lips.
He feels Kurt smile and brings up a hand to twine it in thick, chestnut hair. Kurt’s mouth moves slowly under his as he wraps his arm around Blaine’s shoulder to lie down with him.
This time, it’s much slower, much more romantic. Perhaps because now Blaine knows that this isn’t just something trivial to Kurt, that it means something to him too, even if they haven’t been together or even known each other long enough to figure out what that is. Blaine can feel it, though, tugging at his heartstrings as Kurt lays him out and presses soft kisses down his chest, and he knows it’s not long until he’ll have fallen completely.
And when Blaine falls, he falls hard.
Kurt is soft and gentle and so, so lovely, his skin glinting in the moonlight, his eyes shining bright silvery-blue, hands caressing Blaine’s skin, taking him apart and putting him back together again. He trails over the strings that do up Blaine’s pants, and Blaine nods, gasping when Kurt begins to pull them apart and down and then he’s exposed, and vulnerable, but he doesn’t care in the least because it’s Kurt and he’s slowly beginning to realise that he would do anything for the wonderful boy, this wonderful man.
Kurt takes him in hand gently, kissing softly at the skin around his navel, stroking slowly and surely. Blaine sighs and grunts and then lets out a loud cry of ecstasy when Kurt sinks his mouth down around him.
It’s warm and wet and it feels so good, and he threads his fingers in Kurt’s hair, looking down at him through half-lidded eyes as he bobs and licks and sucks. Blaine wants to ask him where he learnt to do such amazing things with his mouth, but he doesn’t think he has quite the presence of mind to form complete sentences at the moment. Kurt keeps glancing at him darkly every time he sinks his head down, and Blaine feels himself draw tenser as he approaches the edge. He’s mumbling, incoherent even to himself, fingers digging into Kurt’s scalp as he barely guides him back and forward, up and down. He’s nearly there, can feel his balls draw up tight, and then Kurt pulls off, grins up at him through his eyelashes, and says, “You taste amazing, you know.”
And that’s what does it, he’s coming, thick white ropes shooting onto Kurt’s face before he sinks his mouth down again, drawing it out of him with long, heady sucks, and Blaine is coming so hard that he thinks he passes out for a couple of seconds.
As he floats back down to normality, he feels Kurt stretched out alongside him, and is suddenly struck by the thought that Kurt hasn’t gotten off yet - but then he manages to summon enough energy to open his eyes and look down, and Kurt’s pants show no sign of an erection.
“I came just after you did,” murmurs Kurt in his ear. “In my pants again. Obviously being with you is not doing my clothes any good.”
Blaine chuckles softly, rolling over and tucking his face into the crook of Kurt’s neck. Kurt leans over him to grasp the edge of his cloak, then pulls it up over them both, wrapping them up in a cocoon of warmth. Blaine snuggles closer to him.
“Just a few minutes,” whispers Kurt, “then we should head back. I don’t want to worry my father.”
Blaine tries to nod, but he’s too sleepy already, and instead just tightens his grip around Kurt’s waist and lets himself drift off.
*
When he wakes up, Kurt is gone, and he’s bundled up in both their cloaks.
He sits up blearily. It’s still night, but the moon has set, which means that they probably overslept and should have been back ages ago.
Rubbing his eyes, he notices the neatly folded pile of clothes by the river, and then hears the soft sound of splashing water. Sitting up further, he can see Kurt diligently washing himself, waist-deep in the water.
Blaine wriggles out of the cloaks, notices he’s still almost fully naked, shrugs, and pulls off his pants and stockings. He folds them up by his tunic before hurrying to the river’s edge, shivering.
He wades in slowly - the water is cold, and he’s still a little sensitive from before. Kurt obviously hasn’t seen or heard him yet, as he remains facing the opposite bank, scooping up water and rubbing it over his skin. Blaine stops when he’s just behind him, then falls forward, grabbing Kurt around the waist and pulling him down into the water with him. Kurt shrieks and splutters, lashing out weakly as he flounders. Blaine laughs, swimming away from Kurt, who is yelling at him good-naturedly. Blaine feels a tug on his feet and then Kurt is dragging him back towards him, ducking his head under briefly then pulling him out of the water again for a very wet kiss.
Blaine laughs, and kisses Kurt’s nose. “I think you’re properly clean now,” he says, rubbing their noses together. Kurt flicks his shoulder and stands up properly.
“You’re right,” he says, and sighs. “It’s really late, we should properly head back. I don’t want my father to worry.”
“Okay.”
Kurt gets out before him, a deep red blush spilling down his shoulders and back as Blaine takes the opportunity to admire Kurt’s very fine and very bare ass. But then Kurt’s quickly pulling on his underwear and Blaine loses his excellent view.
They dress quickly, wrapping their cloaks around each other, then Kurt goes to fetch Pumpkin from where she had wandered off downstream. He returns leading her, and motions Blaine to get up first. Blaine frowns a little, confused, but then Kurt slides up behind him and tucks his head over his shoulder and he understands.
The ride back to the castle is silent, as Kurt keeps his arms wrapped tightly around Blaine, mouth pressed gently against his neck as he rides. They stop near the gates to the stables so that Blaine can dismount and make his way back to the servants’ hall without raising any suspicions. Kurt gets off with him, folding him up in the tight embrace of a hug before kissing him passionately. Blaine kisses back, chasing his lips when they break apart, but Kurt places a finger on his mouth, smiling softly, and kisses his forehead before mounting again and giving Blaine a last smile.
“Wait!” calls out Blaine quietly, just as Pumpkin begins to walk off. Kurt stops her and twists around in the saddle. “When can I see you again?”
“Soon,” replies Kurt. “I promise, it’ll be soon.” He presses his fingers to his lips and waves them at Blaine, then disappears into the night. Blaine watches him go, a fond smile on his lips, something enormous and amazing spreading out from his heart and filling his limbs. Then he turns back to the servants’ hall.
*
From his window seat in the northwest wing of the castle, King Burt sees everything.