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shamelessly_mkpBABY KINKSTERS: SOMEWHERE ONLY WE KNOW (updated at gleedsm as comment!fic)
rating: not yet rated
kinks: d/s, caging/confinement, discipline, communication & negotiation, possibly others
warnings: d/s activities without prior communication or negotiation and therefore dubious consent; subdrop; having a bad trip while in subspace (I have no idea what else to call that); probable characterization fails on my part; abuse of italics
summary:
(set post 3x17) Six weeks. Kurt's leaving for New York in six weeks. He's leaving Blaine in six weeks. He's leaving Blaine alone, in Lima, in that huge, always empty house. Blaine won't have Kurt's house as a refuge anymore. (He's told Blaine not to be silly, that of course he'd always be welcome at his parents' house. His dad's told Blaine that, for crying out loud. He still knows Blaine won't go there, not without Kurt. He'd worry about imposing. As if he could.) Blaine won't have Kurt as a refuge anymore.
Kurt just wants to give him someplace safe. Someplace, like the sappy song Blaine'd once sung to him, that only they know.
Kurt really didn't know how to broach the subject. He couldn't exactly say Blaine, honey, I've noticed how you tend to jam yourself into small spaces like between my bed and the wall when you're upset or I'm worried about you being alone next year, because you don't seem to do so well by yourself, and he definitely couldn't say so, I was thinking about you and I read some stuff on the internet and what are your thoughts on cages?
Yeah. That wasn't happening.
In the end, Kurt did what he always did: Went shopping. Actions spoke louder than words, after all. And if Blaine didn't like it - well, he could always put everything back the way it was.
***
Blaine was noticeably a little confused and more than a little curious, but he agreed to go out and see a movie with Mike so Kurt could get his surprise ready.
("A surprise? It's not my birthday or anything, Kurt."
"I know. This is just - I just want to do this for you. Before I leave."
"Kurt-"
"Please, Blaine.")
That gave Kurt nearly three hours, counting travel time (and Blaine did. not. speed.), and he put all of it to good use. He'd just finished arranging Blaine's clothes in the wardrobe he'd just installed, not able to resist organizing them by color and style, when he heard Blaine's car pull up.
"Kurt?" Blaine's voice called up from the entrance way.
"Up here!" Kurt called back, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from his shirt. He was nervous-of course he was nervous. This is for Blaine, Kurt had to remind himself. Even if this is awkward and weird and -- this is for Blaine.
It wasn't as though he could put everything back the way it had been in the next thirty seconds, anyway. There was no chickening out now. Kurt lifted his chin determinedly just as Blaine knocked on his own doorframe.
"Hey, you," Blaine said affectionately.
Kurt's mouth twitched into a smile of its own accord. "Hey, you," He replied, stepping forward and pulling his adorable, ridiculous boyfriend into a kiss.
Blaine pulled back first. Kurt couldn't help but wish they could kiss just a little bit longer. He was nervous about Blaine's reaction.
"...So," Blaine said teasingly, running his hand down Kurt's chest. "Is this my surprise? You in my bedroom? Because I've got to say, I like it, but I'm not sure why you needed me out of the house for that."
Kurt laughed. "No," He said, "That's not your surprise. Come on." He grabbed Blaine by the hand and tugged him forward. "This," Kurt said, pulling Blaine's closet door open dramatically, "Is your surprise."
Blaine was silent. He looked--shocked. Kurt tried to make out any other emotions, but shock seemed to be the only one making it through.
"I got you a wardrobe," Kurt said, "So all your clothes are in there now, and while I did switch the doors out, I kept the original; it's right over there in the corner; so if you don't like it I can always put it back."
Blaine was silent.
"So," Kurt continued, realizing he was starting to babble a little, but unable to help it - it was nervewracking, showing this to Blaine and not getting any reaction at all, "I got a mattress-well, kind of a mattress, it's certainly soft like a mattress-so you can have someplace soft to sit, or curl up and sleep, and there's a shelf, so you can, well, put things on it, like you do with shelves, and I put in a fold-up one lower down, too, so it'd be out of the way, but if you wanted to keep something to drink in there or something, you'd have a space for that without having to get up--"
Blaine was still silent. Kurt could hear his voice getting higher, as it did whenever he got nervous, but he couldn't stop now. "And the door, I got it specially made; it's a variation on the classic dutch door, so instead of opening in two halves, it opens in thirds, and I installed a handle low down on the inside, so you can shut it yourself, and Blaine would you please just say something?"
When Blaine spoke, it was in a tone of tight control. "This is some kind of joke, right?"
Kurt's heart sank a little. This wasn't going over as well as he'd hoped. Unsure of how to respond, he went with a simple shake of his head.
Blaine shook his head in apparent disbelief. "Why-- Kurt. Why the hell would you -- what is this even for?"
Kurt wet his lips nervously. "It's for you, Blaine."
"What do you mean, for me?"
"I mean -" Kurt paused, trying to think how to phrase it, "I wanted - it's someplace safe, for you. Somewhere just the two of us know about, where you can relax, and just - it's for you. I made it for you."
"Like, you're expecting me to sit in a closet?" Blaine's voice rose in pitch. "Is this some kind of joke about my questioning my sexuality last year?"
"No!" Kurt reached forward to bridge the gap between them, but Blaine pulled away before they could touch. "No," Kurt repeated, curling his hands back into his sides. "This has nothing to do with that. This has to do with us. And my leaving. And I know you don't want to talk about it," Kurt said quickly, forestalling Blaine's protest, "But it's happening. And it's happening soon. And I just. I don't like the thought of you here all by yourself. You must get so lonely."
"So you thought the answer was to build me a fort in my clothes closet?"
Kurt didn't get a chance to reply.
"Do you have any idea how weird that is? I'm seventeen, Kurt, not seven, for God's sake. This is - it's ridiculous. I don't understand how you even came up with it. And I get that you're trying to help me, or whatever, but - seriously? A closet?"
NEXT PART
rating: not yet rated
kinks: d/s, caging/confinement, discipline, communication & negotiation, possibly others
warnings: d/s activities without prior communication or negotiation and therefore dubious consent; subdrop; having a bad trip while in subspace (I have no idea what else to call that); probable characterization fails on my part; abuse of italics
summary:
(set post 3x17) Six weeks. Kurt's leaving for New York in six weeks. He's leaving Blaine in six weeks. He's leaving Blaine alone, in Lima, in that huge, always empty house. Blaine won't have Kurt's house as a refuge anymore. (He's told Blaine not to be silly, that of course he'd always be welcome at his parents' house. His dad's told Blaine that, for crying out loud. He still knows Blaine won't go there, not without Kurt. He'd worry about imposing. As if he could.) Blaine won't have Kurt as a refuge anymore.
Kurt just wants to give him someplace safe. Someplace, like the sappy song Blaine'd once sung to him, that only they know.
Kurt really didn't know how to broach the subject. He couldn't exactly say Blaine, honey, I've noticed how you tend to jam yourself into small spaces like between my bed and the wall when you're upset or I'm worried about you being alone next year, because you don't seem to do so well by yourself, and he definitely couldn't say so, I was thinking about you and I read some stuff on the internet and what are your thoughts on cages?
Yeah. That wasn't happening.
In the end, Kurt did what he always did: Went shopping. Actions spoke louder than words, after all. And if Blaine didn't like it - well, he could always put everything back the way it was.
***
Blaine was noticeably a little confused and more than a little curious, but he agreed to go out and see a movie with Mike so Kurt could get his surprise ready.
("A surprise? It's not my birthday or anything, Kurt."
"I know. This is just - I just want to do this for you. Before I leave."
"Kurt-"
"Please, Blaine.")
That gave Kurt nearly three hours, counting travel time (and Blaine did. not. speed.), and he put all of it to good use. He'd just finished arranging Blaine's clothes in the wardrobe he'd just installed, not able to resist organizing them by color and style, when he heard Blaine's car pull up.
"Kurt?" Blaine's voice called up from the entrance way.
"Up here!" Kurt called back, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from his shirt. He was nervous-of course he was nervous. This is for Blaine, Kurt had to remind himself. Even if this is awkward and weird and -- this is for Blaine.
It wasn't as though he could put everything back the way it had been in the next thirty seconds, anyway. There was no chickening out now. Kurt lifted his chin determinedly just as Blaine knocked on his own doorframe.
"Hey, you," Blaine said affectionately.
Kurt's mouth twitched into a smile of its own accord. "Hey, you," He replied, stepping forward and pulling his adorable, ridiculous boyfriend into a kiss.
Blaine pulled back first. Kurt couldn't help but wish they could kiss just a little bit longer. He was nervous about Blaine's reaction.
"...So," Blaine said teasingly, running his hand down Kurt's chest. "Is this my surprise? You in my bedroom? Because I've got to say, I like it, but I'm not sure why you needed me out of the house for that."
Kurt laughed. "No," He said, "That's not your surprise. Come on." He grabbed Blaine by the hand and tugged him forward. "This," Kurt said, pulling Blaine's closet door open dramatically, "Is your surprise."
Blaine was silent. He looked--shocked. Kurt tried to make out any other emotions, but shock seemed to be the only one making it through.
"I got you a wardrobe," Kurt said, "So all your clothes are in there now, and while I did switch the doors out, I kept the original; it's right over there in the corner; so if you don't like it I can always put it back."
Blaine was silent.
"So," Kurt continued, realizing he was starting to babble a little, but unable to help it - it was nervewracking, showing this to Blaine and not getting any reaction at all, "I got a mattress-well, kind of a mattress, it's certainly soft like a mattress-so you can have someplace soft to sit, or curl up and sleep, and there's a shelf, so you can, well, put things on it, like you do with shelves, and I put in a fold-up one lower down, too, so it'd be out of the way, but if you wanted to keep something to drink in there or something, you'd have a space for that without having to get up--"
Blaine was still silent. Kurt could hear his voice getting higher, as it did whenever he got nervous, but he couldn't stop now. "And the door, I got it specially made; it's a variation on the classic dutch door, so instead of opening in two halves, it opens in thirds, and I installed a handle low down on the inside, so you can shut it yourself, and Blaine would you please just say something?"
When Blaine spoke, it was in a tone of tight control. "This is some kind of joke, right?"
Kurt's heart sank a little. This wasn't going over as well as he'd hoped. Unsure of how to respond, he went with a simple shake of his head.
Blaine shook his head in apparent disbelief. "Why-- Kurt. Why the hell would you -- what is this even for?"
Kurt wet his lips nervously. "It's for you, Blaine."
"What do you mean, for me?"
"I mean -" Kurt paused, trying to think how to phrase it, "I wanted - it's someplace safe, for you. Somewhere just the two of us know about, where you can relax, and just - it's for you. I made it for you."
"Like, you're expecting me to sit in a closet?" Blaine's voice rose in pitch. "Is this some kind of joke about my questioning my sexuality last year?"
"No!" Kurt reached forward to bridge the gap between them, but Blaine pulled away before they could touch. "No," Kurt repeated, curling his hands back into his sides. "This has nothing to do with that. This has to do with us. And my leaving. And I know you don't want to talk about it," Kurt said quickly, forestalling Blaine's protest, "But it's happening. And it's happening soon. And I just. I don't like the thought of you here all by yourself. You must get so lonely."
"So you thought the answer was to build me a fort in my clothes closet?"
Kurt didn't get a chance to reply.
"Do you have any idea how weird that is? I'm seventeen, Kurt, not seven, for God's sake. This is - it's ridiculous. I don't understand how you even came up with it. And I get that you're trying to help me, or whatever, but - seriously? A closet?"
"Well, I thought about getting an actual cage, but I figured the closet would be less conspicuous," Kurt quipped, immediately regretting his flippant reply. The incredulity in Blaine's expression was quickly being replaced by anger.
"A cage? This is meant to be some kind of, of, stand-in for a cage? And you thought I'd like that? Jeez, Kurt, it's great to know my boyfriend has such a wonderful opinion of me, that he thinks I'm some kind of freak-"
"Hey!" Kurt interjected. "I don't think you're some kind of freak. Stop putting words in my mouth, Blaine, and listen to me."
Blaine was shaking his head before Kurt reached the end of his sentence. "No, I think we're done here, okay? I think - I think you should go."
Kurt grabbed Blaine's wrist, hoping Blaine wouldn't try to twist out of his grip, because then Kurt would have to let him go, but Kurt just needed him to listen.
"Blaine. Please."
It was the please that got to him, Kurt knew. Blaine had never been able to say no to Kurt, not about anything serious. It had both elated and worried Kurt by turns, and had in fact been part of the impetus behind his recent google searches.
The defeated slump of Blaine's shoulders almost made Kurt want to give up, to play it off as some kind of joke and just put Blaine's room back the way it originally was. Remembering all of the times Blaine had contentedly sat on the floor at Kurt's feet, ignoring the nearby seats; all of the times Kurt had found him curled up in a tight corner or wedged between things; all of the times Blaine had deliberately (and Kurt knew it was deliberate) mistied his daily bowtie, just so Kurt would fix it for him - remembering these made his resolve harden. Blaine needed this, even if he wouldn't admit it. He needed something, and this was the only thing Kurt could think of. He couldn't stay in Lima. He couldn't take Blaine with him, as much as he'd love to. He had to find away to take care of Blaine without actually being there. He had to give Blaine a refuge to go to. He couldn't just leave Blaine in Lima, with his distant parents and huge empty house, with the hostile hallways of McKinley and the drama of New Directions, without someplace safe to go.
And if Blaine wouldn't use Kurt's house, not without Kurt there, well. Kurt had had to improvise.
"I don't think you're a freak," Kurt repeated, more gently. "I know it's ... different, but we've always been different, haven't we?"
Blaine snorted. "I think there's a difference between whatever the hell "this" is and being gay, Kurt."
"Shh," Kurt hushed him. "Just let me talk, okay?"
Blaine sighed, but nodded acquiescence.
Kurt wet his lips, trying to decide how to say what he needed to. "I just think this might be good for you," he finally settled on. "I know you're pretty much always the life of the party, Blaine, but I've also seen you when you're quiet and you curl yourself up in the smallest place you can find. Just listen to me," He forestalled Blaine's protest. "This is - it's someplace only we know, okay? Like the song. It's somewhere just for you, for when everything gets to be too much, and don't you dare take that like I mean you're weak or something stupid like that, Blaine, because we all have times when everything gets to be too much, okay?"
Blaine's expression had softened during Kurt's monologue, so he no longer looked so angry, but he still looked less than happy. "That's sweet, Kurt, but I don't think -"
"Just try it," Kurt cut him off, belatedly realizing he probably should have phrased that as a question. "Please," he added, seeing the refusal on Blaine's features. "For me." Seeing the hesitance give way a little in the face of Blaine's need to make Kurt happy, Kurt pressed onwards. "I'm going to go downstairs and make us a nice, home-cooked meal. That was the second part of the surprise. Just...try it while I'm cooking, okay? I'll come get you when dinner's ready, and if I was wrong, if it was terrible or just stupidly tedious, or whatever you think it's going to be like, then we can eat dinner and I'll help you put everything back the way it was. Just try it for me."
Blaine sighed. "Fine," he said, sitting down in the closet, "But this is ridiculous. I feel ridiculous. What am I even supposed to do in here, Kurt?"
Kurt's heart couldn't help but skip a beat. Even disgruntled as Blaine was, Kurt could already see the tension starting to melt away from Blaine's shoulders as he settled backwards into the corner of the closet. It was beautiful, the way Blaine started to soften - Blaine acted so naturally all of the time that Kurt sometimes forgot just how much of a facade he put on, until they were alone again and Blaine finally let it drop.
"Just-" Kurt shrugged. "Relax."
Blaine looked skeptical. "Fine," he said with a clearly humoring-the-insane-boyfriend sigh. "Just until you're done with dinner, alright? And then you'll drop this and we can put it back."
"If that's what you want," Kurt said, bending down to drop a quick kiss on Blaine's lip. "This is for you, Blaine. Just for you."
Blaine rolled his eyes, but relaxed further, slumping down against the wall of the closet. "So go get started on dinner already," he said in a tone of mock complaint. "I'm starving here!"
***
Blaine was bored. He'd only been sitting there for what couldn't have been more than a few minutes (even if it felt like FOREVER), and he was bored. This was ridiculous.
What was Kurt thinking?
Blaine banged his head back against the wall in frustration. He loved his boyfriend, he really did, and he appreciated everything Kurt did for him, but really. This was just WEIRD.
He sighed. No matter how ridiculous it was, or humiliating, Kurt had asked him to give this thing a chance, so he would. Closing his eyes, Blaine tried to just relax. Maybe he'd take a nap? It WAS pretty comfortable in here - Kurt'd clearly gone to a lot of trouble to fix it up nicely. Blaine had to appreciate that, even if he was still kind of angry that Kurt had gone behind his back and taken it upon himself to just CHANGE Blaine's room, like he had the RIGHT - Right. Giving it a try. Remembering it's the thought that counts.
Sigh.
Blaine wished he was sitting at his desk instead, just so he could properly HEADDESK, but he contented himself with a mental FACEPALM. His life right now? A total FML.
Closing his eyes, Blaine tried to clear his head. Ruminating on the sheer weirdness of this and his boyfriend's unclear motivations (okay, that was unfair - Kurt's motivations were clearly good and out of love and whatever) wasn't really the way to relax. He had told Kurt he'd try it. Whatever "it" was. And Blaine wasn't going to break his word.
But seriously. What the hell? How did Kurt even come up with something like this? Talking about cages, like their life was some weird, kinky porno-and if that was the first type of porn Kurt had ever seen, Blaine so understood why he'd run and hid from it. That shit freaked Blaine out. He'd watched one video all the way through once - a man tied up by another man and ... tortured was the only word Blaine could think of to describe it, although not everything the other guy had done had been painful. The one tied up was clearly getting off on it, which was just - how could someone get off on being tied up and hurt? Like, whatever floats your boat, to each their own, but that's just WEIRD. And the guy doing the hurting - how messed up is that? Getting off on someone else's pain - it must be like having sex with one of those guys who had tormented him back at his first high school.
It had made Blaine really uncomfortable. Sure, he'd gotten hard - the men were attractive, after all - and he'd gotten off - he's a teenage boy, of course he got off - but throughout, there'd been this slightly sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach.
That couldn't have been what Kurt meant. Not Kurt, his sweet, loving boyfriend. Kurt might have hurt him in the past, but never intentionally, and Blaine knew Kurt never would hurt him intentionally.
(He buried the thought that maybe that would change when Kurt when to New York, maybe he'd meet someone else, someone more exciting than Blaine, more attractive, taller, better - No. Kurt wouldn't do that. They were going to be fine.)
Blaine tried instead to focus on the softness of the mattress underneath him (was that memory foam? How had Kurt managed that?), the soothing coolness of the wall at his back. From downstairs, he could faintly hear Kurt puttering around in the kitchen, making dinner.
For them.
Blaine's body relaxed, almost without him even noticing. He ended up shifting down, lying on his back with his hands behind his head and looking at the ceiling of his closet.
He'd never really looked at it before. It was ... nice. For some reason, some person at some point had decided to paint the closet ceiling the same shade of green that decorated the rest of Blaine's room. It was bizarre, because that same person had apparently decided to paint the rest of the closet a creamy off white, but Blaine liked it. The contrast was ... soothing.
"A cage? This is meant to be some kind of, of, stand-in for a cage? And you thought I'd like that? Jeez, Kurt, it's great to know my boyfriend has such a wonderful opinion of me, that he thinks I'm some kind of freak-"
"Hey!" Kurt interjected. "I don't think you're some kind of freak. Stop putting words in my mouth, Blaine, and listen to me."
Blaine was shaking his head before Kurt reached the end of his sentence. "No, I think we're done here, okay? I think - I think you should go."
Kurt grabbed Blaine's wrist, hoping Blaine wouldn't try to twist out of his grip, because then Kurt would have to let him go, but Kurt just needed him to listen.
"Blaine. Please."
It was the please that got to him, Kurt knew. Blaine had never been able to say no to Kurt, not about anything serious. It had both elated and worried Kurt by turns, and had in fact been part of the impetus behind his recent google searches.
The defeated slump of Blaine's shoulders almost made Kurt want to give up, to play it off as some kind of joke and just put Blaine's room back the way it originally was. Remembering all of the times Blaine had contentedly sat on the floor at Kurt's feet, ignoring the nearby seats; all of the times Kurt had found him curled up in a tight corner or wedged between things; all of the times Blaine had deliberately (and Kurt knew it was deliberate) mistied his daily bowtie, just so Kurt would fix it for him - remembering these made his resolve harden. Blaine needed this, even if he wouldn't admit it. He needed something, and this was the only thing Kurt could think of. He couldn't stay in Lima. He couldn't take Blaine with him, as much as he'd love to. He had to find away to take care of Blaine without actually being there. He had to give Blaine a refuge to go to. He couldn't just leave Blaine in Lima, with his distant parents and huge empty house, with the hostile hallways of McKinley and the drama of New Directions, without someplace safe to go.
And if Blaine wouldn't use Kurt's house, not without Kurt there, well. Kurt had had to improvise.
"I don't think you're a freak," Kurt repeated, more gently. "I know it's ... different, but we've always been different, haven't we?"
Blaine snorted. "I think there's a difference between whatever the hell "this" is and being gay, Kurt."
"Shh," Kurt hushed him. "Just let me talk, okay?"
Blaine sighed, but nodded acquiescence.
Kurt wet his lips, trying to decide how to say what he needed to. "I just think this might be good for you," he finally settled on. "I know you're pretty much always the life of the party, Blaine, but I've also seen you when you're quiet and you curl yourself up in the smallest place you can find. Just listen to me," He forestalled Blaine's protest. "This is - it's someplace only we know, okay? Like the song. It's somewhere just for you, for when everything gets to be too much, and don't you dare take that like I mean you're weak or something stupid like that, Blaine, because we all have times when everything gets to be too much, okay?"
Blaine's expression had softened during Kurt's monologue, so he no longer looked so angry, but he still looked less than happy. "That's sweet, Kurt, but I don't think -"
"Just try it," Kurt cut him off, belatedly realizing he probably should have phrased that as a question. "Please," he added, seeing the refusal on Blaine's features. "For me." Seeing the hesitance give way a little in the face of Blaine's need to make Kurt happy, Kurt pressed onwards. "I'm going to go downstairs and make us a nice, home-cooked meal. That was the second part of the surprise. Just...try it while I'm cooking, okay? I'll come get you when dinner's ready, and if I was wrong, if it was terrible or just stupidly tedious, or whatever you think it's going to be like, then we can eat dinner and I'll help you put everything back the way it was. Just try it for me."
Blaine sighed. "Fine," he said, sitting down in the closet, "But this is ridiculous. I feel ridiculous. What am I even supposed to do in here, Kurt?"
Kurt's heart couldn't help but skip a beat. Even disgruntled as Blaine was, Kurt could already see the tension starting to melt away from Blaine's shoulders as he settled backwards into the corner of the closet. It was beautiful, the way Blaine started to soften - Blaine acted so naturally all of the time that Kurt sometimes forgot just how much of a facade he put on, until they were alone again and Blaine finally let it drop.
"Just-" Kurt shrugged. "Relax."
Blaine looked skeptical. "Fine," he said with a clearly humoring-the-insane-boyfriend sigh. "Just until you're done with dinner, alright? And then you'll drop this and we can put it back."
"If that's what you want," Kurt said, bending down to drop a quick kiss on Blaine's lip. "This is for you, Blaine. Just for you."
Blaine rolled his eyes, but relaxed further, slumping down against the wall of the closet. "So go get started on dinner already," he said in a tone of mock complaint. "I'm starving here!"
***
Blaine was bored. He'd only been sitting there for what couldn't have been more than a few minutes (even if it felt like FOREVER), and he was bored. This was ridiculous.
What was Kurt thinking?
Blaine banged his head back against the wall in frustration. He loved his boyfriend, he really did, and he appreciated everything Kurt did for him, but really. This was just WEIRD.
He sighed. No matter how ridiculous it was, or humiliating, Kurt had asked him to give this thing a chance, so he would. Closing his eyes, Blaine tried to just relax. Maybe he'd take a nap? It WAS pretty comfortable in here - Kurt'd clearly gone to a lot of trouble to fix it up nicely. Blaine had to appreciate that, even if he was still kind of angry that Kurt had gone behind his back and taken it upon himself to just CHANGE Blaine's room, like he had the RIGHT - Right. Giving it a try. Remembering it's the thought that counts.
Sigh.
Blaine wished he was sitting at his desk instead, just so he could properly HEADDESK, but he contented himself with a mental FACEPALM. His life right now? A total FML.
Closing his eyes, Blaine tried to clear his head. Ruminating on the sheer weirdness of this and his boyfriend's unclear motivations (okay, that was unfair - Kurt's motivations were clearly good and out of love and whatever) wasn't really the way to relax. He had told Kurt he'd try it. Whatever "it" was. And Blaine wasn't going to break his word.
But seriously. What the hell? How did Kurt even come up with something like this? Talking about cages, like their life was some weird, kinky porno-and if that was the first type of porn Kurt had ever seen, Blaine so understood why he'd run and hid from it. That shit freaked Blaine out. He'd watched one video all the way through once - a man tied up by another man and ... tortured was the only word Blaine could think of to describe it, although not everything the other guy had done had been painful. The one tied up was clearly getting off on it, which was just - how could someone get off on being tied up and hurt? Like, whatever floats your boat, to each their own, but that's just WEIRD. And the guy doing the hurting - how messed up is that? Getting off on someone else's pain - it must be like having sex with one of those guys who had tormented him back at his first high school.
It had made Blaine really uncomfortable. Sure, he'd gotten hard - the men were attractive, after all - and he'd gotten off - he's a teenage boy, of course he got off - but throughout, there'd been this slightly sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach.
That couldn't have been what Kurt meant. Not Kurt, his sweet, loving boyfriend. Kurt might have hurt him in the past, but never intentionally, and Blaine knew Kurt never would hurt him intentionally.
(He buried the thought that maybe that would change when Kurt when to New York, maybe he'd meet someone else, someone more exciting than Blaine, more attractive, taller, better - No. Kurt wouldn't do that. They were going to be fine.)
Blaine tried instead to focus on the softness of the mattress underneath him (was that memory foam? How had Kurt managed that?), the soothing coolness of the wall at his back. From downstairs, he could faintly hear Kurt puttering around in the kitchen, making dinner.
For them.
Blaine's body relaxed, almost without him even noticing. He ended up shifting down, lying on his back with his hands behind his head and looking at the ceiling of his closet.
He'd never really looked at it before. It was ... nice. For some reason, some person at some point had decided to paint the closet ceiling the same shade of green that decorated the rest of Blaine's room. It was bizarre, because that same person had apparently decided to paint the rest of the closet a creamy off white, but Blaine liked it. The contrast was ... soothing.
NEXT PART
