8/?

[shamelessly_mkp]

Reluctantly, Kurt tore himself away from Blaine, who protested but he didn’t move his hands, ohmygod — how was Kurt this lucky? 

His brain helpfully supplied a soundtrack of Julie Andrews and whats-his-name-whatever singing (name of song about somewhere in my youth or childhood / I must have done something good) and Kurt forcibly dismissed it. So not the time.

Rummaging in his hope chest, Kurt realized he’d forgotten something and popped his head up just long enough to order Blaine to take his shirt off. “And leave the bowtie,” he added a moment later.

Blaine sat up to obey and holy crap, he totally just went to his knees for this with no prompting fuck this had better work, it had to because jesus fucking christ Blaine needed it.

Finally, finally! Kurt found what he’d been looking for. He’d thought it very clever at the time to hide it beneath his collection of tiaras, but that clearly wasn’t going to be a good hiding place, because what’s the point if he couldn’t get at it quickly?

Kurt shut the chest and joined Blaine on the bed. Blaine was still kneeling; he hadn’t laid back down, and his shirt was carefully folded next to him. 

He was still wearing his bowtie.

A little worse for wear, to be sure - bowties are really not designed with the purpose of being able to worm your shirt collar out from under them, but that wasn’t the point. 

He was still wearing his bowtie.

Kurt had tied that bowtie himself not thirty minutes ago, when Blaine came to the Hudmel door with it knotted and askew. 

Kurt had put it there.

Kurt couldn’t help but shut his eyes for a moment, trying to resist the urge to just pin Blaine down and rub against him until they both came because fuck, Blaine was his and Kurt didn’t think he’d ever been this turned on in his life.

But he had a mission, a plan - he was the man with the plan, how about that - and by god he would go through with it or die trying.

“Put your hands out,” Kurt said, keeping his own behind his back, so as not to ruin the surprise. 

Blaine did, and he was even offering them palm up, exactly the way Kurt wanted them, held up in supplication. 

Kurt couldn’t have bitten back the pleased sound he made at that, even if he’d wanted to. Blaine’s nervous face brightened at having done something right, and he sucked in a surprised, ragged breath as Kurt finally showed him what he’d been hiding.

It was a pair of cuffs. Not high end, because holy crap, who knew a set of leather cuffs could cost more than a pair of leather pants? but nice enough. Pleather, so they looked the part, black and sleek and dangerous, with a soft lining. Kurt had tried them himself to make sure they were comfortable.

And they locked. Not that Kurt planned on locking them, but he’d thought it worth the extra money just to have the option available.

Kurt studied Blaine’s face carefully. He didn’t want to spook him. “This okay?”

Blaine opened his mouth to speak, but ended up shaking his head instead.

Kurt’s heart sank. So much for proving himself. “So they’re not okay, then.”

Blaine shook his head again, harder and more desperately.

Kurt wasn’t quite sure how to take that. 

“Use your words, Blaine,” he gently reminded his boyfriend. “Is it okay for me to use these on you - yes or no?”

Blaine took a deep breath, clearly trying to make himself speak, but choked on it several times. Kurt waited patiently, and was finally rewarded with a hoarse yes.

Kurt smiled in relief, and his smile had Blaine smiling too, albeit in a more strained manner. Carefully, Kurt wrapped first one, then the other, of Blaine’s wrists in the cuffs, making sure the grip was firm and secure, but not so tight it would interfere with Blaine’s circulation. (He…might have had the clerk show him how to do that.)

Blaine was shaking and every time Kurt wrapped a wrist tight, buckled it shut, Kurt could hear a low, choked off moan coming from Blaine’s throat, but Blaine never moved from where Kurt had placed him, never pulled away or shifted his weight. 

Kurt couldn’t help but run a possessive hand down Blaine’s front. Blaine shivered, but didn’t pull away, wrists still offered upwards like a prayer. 

“So obedient,” Kurt murmured. Blaine made a sharp, almost despairing sound, but still didn’t move. 

“Lie down,” Kurt said quietly, gently pushing Blaine backward. It must have hurt, going straight from his knees to flat on his back, but Blaine didn’t complain at the stretch of it, just obediently arced his body backwards until he was lying down, head on the pillows, once more. His hands automatically went back over his head, where Kurt had had them pinned before, and Kurt kissed him for that, as a reward.

“You’re being so good for me,” Kurt praised him, giving into his urge to run his hands over Blaine’s chest, tugging a nipple on his way. Blaine didn’t manage to cut off his moan at that, and Kurt’s smile turned to almost a smirk. “Oh, honey,” he promised, reaching up to clip the cuffs together, “I’m going to do so much more than that.”

***

Blaine was shaking, he knew, but he couldn’t help it.  His body didn’t feel like it belonged to him; it was separate, distant, and yet so close, so real - he could feel everything, every cool whisper of air across his skin, every inch of soft cloth against his back.  Kurt’s hands were on him and they were hot and heavy, burning their way into him, marking him down to the bone, anchoring him to the earth itself and Blaine had never felt so weightless in his life.  He was floating away and sinking down and everything centered around the sweet, terrible ache in his wrists and he knew he was making terrible, shamefully desperate needy sounds but he couldn’t help it.  

He was desperate, was needy, needed Kurt and everything Kurt was willing to give him; he was greedy for it, shameless, selfish, and Kurt, Kurt was so good and kind and loved him and would give him anything he asked for-

Kurt was still talking to him, but the words all melted together and Blaine didn’t bother trying to figure out what his boyfriend was saying, just wrapped himself in the beautiful sound of Kurt’s voice, the comforting lilt of its rise and fall.  It didn’t matter.  Kurt was there.  Kurt would take care of everything.

Kurt would take care of him.