5b/?

[shamelessly_mkp]

  

PREVIOUS PART      

Blaine clearly didn’t understand. 

“You can stop now, honey,” Kurt said kindly.

Blaine stopped. Kurt beckoned him closer, and took Blaine’s hands in his own. 

“You always do what I tell you to, Blaine. Have you ever thought about why?”

“I don’t always do what you tell me to. That’s ridiculous.”

Kurt shook his head, affectionately amused. “Alright,” he agreed, “Not always. But whenever it’s important, or whenever it’s … personal, you listen to me.”

“Well, of course I listen to you. You’re my boyfriend.”

“I think it’s more than that.”

Blaine was looking defensive now. Kurt hurried to continue, not wanting this conversation to devolve into a fight like earlier.

“What do you know about BDSM, Blaine?”

“Why?” Blaine asked warily. “That’s got nothing to do with-”

“Just answer the question, Blaine. What do you know about BDSM?”

Blaine hesitated. “Like…whips and chains and stuff?”

Kurt bit his lip trying not to laugh. “Yeah, whips and chains and stuff. That’s not all there is to it, though.”

“Kurt, how on Earth do you know-”

“I told you,” Kurt cut his boyfriend off. “I’ve been doing some reading.”

“On BDSM?”

“Among other things.”

“But. Why?”

Kurt gently tugged on Blaine’s hands, pulling his boyfriend downward. Blaine obediently dropped to his knees, looking up at Kurt in confusion.

“Because I think this is something that you need, even if you haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.”

Blaine opened his mouth, visibly about to protest, but Kurt pressed an imperious finger to his lips. “I’m not done.” 

Blaine’s eyes flashed with frustration, but he stayed quiet.

“I love you,” Kurt said firmly, never breaking eye contact. “And you love me, and both of those things make you mine, and I will take care of you.”

Kurt took another deep breath. “Now. Tell me what you know about BDSM. Besides the whips and chains and stuff.”

Blaine was biting his lip, clearly uncomfortable, but replied nonetheless. “I … I don’t know, Kurt. I thought that was it, basically. I mean, there’s the one person who’s like, a freak, and likes being tied up and hurt and humiliated or something, I don’t even know, and the other guy - or girl; isn’t it like, mostly dominatrixes and stuff? The other person likes hurting people, and gets off on how pathetic the other person is, how much of a disgusting desperate slut they are, how—”

“Stop,” Kurt ordered sharply. Blaine’s mouth snapped shut mid-word. Kurt breathed in, feeling slightly sick to his stomach. That was what Blaine knew about BDSM? That was what he thought about it? No wonder he’d been freaking out so much. To have Kurt even hinting that this should be part of their relationship - that must have fed into all of Blaine’s insecurities; maybe even created new ones.

Kurt had been lucky, in a way. His instinctive dislike for porn had kept him from being exposed to the same sort of things Blaine clearly had. All his previous knowledge about BDSM had come from detective shows, where there was (at least usually) a bit more even-handed treatment, and his google searches for “my boyfriend likes it when I tell him what to do” and “boyfriend likes to sit at my feet” had led him to some informative personal journal entries of various doms and subs. He’d been able to narrow down his focus more to the d/s part of the equation, bypassing the s&m stuff, at least for now.

“That’s not what BDSM is, Blaine. No one’s a freak, no one’s pathetic, no one’s -”

“Of course they are,” Blaine interrupted. “They have to be, to want that kind of thing. What kind of normal person-”

“Blaine!” Kurt’s voice cracked like the whip Blaine had mentioned earlier. “The next time you interrupt me, I swear I will put you over my knee and spank you again, sore ass or no. Understand?”

Blaine shrank back a little, giving a small, hesitant nod.

“Use your words, Blaine,” Kurt commanded.

“I understand,” Blaine said in a small voice.

“Good boy.”

***

Blaine didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. Kurt was talking about contracts now, about negotiation and limits and safewords, and Blaine didn’t understand. 

“It’s about love, honey.”

How could it be about love? It was pain and humiliation and dirty and wrong and this couldn’t be happening, Kurt couldn’t be saying this, suggesting this; it had to be a joke, a nightmare, a fever-induced hallucination; this couldn’t be happening. Kurt couldn’t think Blaine wanted this. Kurt couldn’t want this. Kurt couldn’t want Blaine to want this. Kurt couldn’t love someone who wanted this, couldn’t love someone that pathetic, that needy, that disgustingly perverted -

“Blaine.”

Blaine wrenched his attention back to Kurt. His boyfriend had spoken sharply, cutting through Blaine’s internal turmoil.

“I need you to listen to me,” Kurt repeated. Blaine had to crane his neck back a little to look his boyfriend in the eyes, which ached a little, but he did it because Kurt wanted him to, wanted Blaine to look at him, and Blaine never wanted to disappoint Kurt, not ever. “You like to make people happy. You like making me happy. That’s not a bad thing.”

Well, no, but what did that have to do with it?

“You like being taken care of. That’s not a bad thing either.”

Blaine didn’t need to be taken care of, he wasn’t a child-

“You don’t need to be taken care of, Blaine, but you like it. It’s okay,” his boyfriend added. “I like taking care of you.”

Blaine guessed that was true. He did like it when Kurt picked out his clothes, tied his bowtie. It made him feel all warm inside that Kurt cared enough to make sure Blaine looked good, that he was making Kurt happy by such a little thing as letting Kurt choose for him.

“You like it when I tell you what to do. You like being good for me.”

No- that wasn’t-

“In fact, I think you need to be good for someone,” his boyfriend continued inexorably.

Blaine didn’t want to listen to this anymore.

“You need to be good, need someone to know how good you are. And you need someone to forgive you when you aren’t good, when you fail at something or do something wrong. You need someone to love you and be proud of you no matter what, someone who knows what a good boy you are and tells you so, all the time.”

No. Nononono.

“You’re a good boy, Blaine,” Kurt said, voice gentle now, but it didn’t matter, because each word pierced Blaine like knives. “You’re always so good for me, and I am so proud to have you as my boyfriend. So lucky to have you love me like this. So happy that you’re mine.”

He’s Kurt’s, he is, he’s always known that, but now Kurt knew, Kurt knew how pathetic he was, how easily broken, and just how to break him, and if Kurt grew tired of him, grew bored, got sick of how needy and stupid his stupid needy boyfriend was -

“You’re mine, honey. Always.”

He wanted to be, oh God, he wanted to be.

Suddenly Kurt was on the floor with him, arms wrapping around Blaine and holding him tight. Blaine should have felt trapped - Kurt’s arms were like steel, confining him, preventing movement, caging him in - but instead all he could feel was relief. Kurt had him and he wasn’t going to let him go.

Blaine could just…let go.

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