2/?

[shamelessly_mkp]

 PREVIOUS PART
 
Kurt looked at his finished masterpiece with pride. It was an excellent meal, if he said so himself. Now, time to check on Blaine.

He hesitated at the foot of the stairs, but gamely made his way upward. The worst that could happen was that Blaine still didn't like it, right? He'd already gotten angry, and gotten over it, so it was going to be fine. Just fine.

Kurt paused upon entering Blaine's room. Maybe more than fine, actually. Blaine had moved since Kurt had first left; he was now flat on his back, chest gently rising and falling. Kurt hated to disturb him, he looked so peaceful, but a deal was a deal.

"Blaine, honey?"

Blaine made a soft sound of assent, but didn't move. Brow furrowed, Kurt made his way over to the closet and knelt next to his boyfriend. "Dinner's ready."

Blaine slowly opened his eyes and blinked lethargically. He looked confused.

"It's time to go downstairs and eat," Kurt elaborated.

Blaine's forehead wrinkled, and he shook his head slowly. "Why - not hungry."

Kurt frowned. "You haven't eaten since lunch time," he pointed out.

Blaine just shook his head again, turning and rubbing it against the mattress. "s'soft."

Kurt was a little worried at the distance in Blaine's voice. He wasn't quite slurring his words, but he just - he seemed out of it. Not in a bad way, he looked - content, in a way Kurt so rarely saw, but - was this what that website had meant by subspace? Didn't that take time and effort? 

As Kurt thought, he absentmindedly started petting Blaine's hair. Blaine automatically rolled over toward Kurt, pressing his face against Kurt's thigh. He reminded Kurt in that moment of nothing so much as a cat, asking to be petted. If he'd had the right vocal cords, Kurt was pretty sure Blaine would be purring right now.

He put his worries aside. They could deal with all that later. Right now, he had Blaine to take care of. And as much as Blaine might want to stay where he was, he really did need to eat. Kurt didn't want to break him out of whatever headspace he was in, though. He looked so peaceful. Kurt couldn't bear the thought of being the one to take that away from him.

Absentmindedly worrying at the side of his mouth with his tongue, Kurt came to a decision. Gently, he tried to maneuver Blaine's head from his lap back to the ground, but Blaine resisted. "I'll be right back," Kurt reassured him, but Blaine shook his head against Kurt's thigh and started clinging on for good measure. 

"Don' want you to go."

Kurt almost melted right then and there. Blaine was adorable like this, so loose and open and wanting in a way Kurt had only ever seen when they were in bed - and even then, only close to or post orgasm.

But Blaine really did need to eat. Kurt was hungry, too. 

After a few more unsuccessful attempts at persuading Blaine to stop his limpet impression and let Kurt go downstairs, Kurt decided it was time to bring out the big guns. So to speak.

He called Blaine by his name, sharply enough to get Blaine to actually look at him. "I'm going downstairs," Kurt said firmly and clearly. "I'm going to get some food for us, and then I'm coming right back. You're going to stay here and wait for me. Understand?"

Blaine nodded slowly. "You're coming back," he repeated, clearly needing reassurance on this point.

"As soon as I get some food together," Kurt assured him. 

"Could come with you," Blaine said, looking torn between the allure of the closet and the need to be close to Kurt.

"You could," Kurt agreed, looking at Blaine again. Blaine really didn't look like he was up to going anywhere, though. "But you're not going to."

Blaine's brow furrowed, but before he could say anything, Kurt continued: "You're going to stay here, like -" he paused to gulp nervously (god, what if he was wrong) "like a good boy," he finished, voice breaking a little on the end.

The look on Blaine's face then was something Kurt would never in a million years forget - like he'd gotten something wonderful and fantastic that he'd never even known he wanted. The shy smile slowly spreading ear to ear just served to convince Kurt further that he had been right to do this for Blaine.

"Good boy," he repeated, more certain of himself now. This time, Blaine let Kurt shift him gently back to the mattress, still looking up at Kurt in astonished adoration all the while. "I'll be right back," Kurt promised.

Blaine nodded. "Be here."

Kurt smiled, an uncontrollable grin taking over his features. "Yes, you will."

In the end, Kurt decided on cheese and crackers, with some apple slices for variety. Light, easy to eat, and still fairly nutritious. Halfway up the stairs, he detoured back to grab bottles of water out of the fridge. No sense in feeding Blaine just to watch him dehydrate.

Blaine wouldn't take any initiative, but was compliant enough when Kurt pressed food on him. It almost reminded Kurt of a baby bird, being fed by its mother (although in this scenario, Kurt supposed he was the mama bird, which was kind of weird, and somewhat incestuous, and maybe this analogy wasn't the best one). Blaine would obediently open his mouth for anything Kurt held to his lips, but didn't seem to want to get anything himself.

Kurt shrugged internally. It was a little strange, to have Blaine eating so tamely from his fingertips, but at least he was eating, and Kurt couldn't really deny the stir of possessive pride at being trusted like this.

It was a heady feeling, and Kurt wanted more. In all of his planning, he'd only ever thought of what Blaine needed, of giving Blaine what he didn't seem able to admit he wanted. 

It had never really occurred to him that it was something he might want too.

That thought preoccupied Kurt for the rest of the night. He felt a bit guilty for being so distracted, but honestly, Blaine didn't even seem to notice. So long as Kurt was touching him in some way, he seemed to be happy. Time passed faster than Kurt realized, and before he knew it, he was about to break curfew if he didn't get going right then.

Kurt didn't want to leave Blaine, but after talking to him for a few minutes, his boyfriend was at least sitting up under his own power, and was coherent enough that (once he realized what time it was) he was encouraging Kurt to leave himself.

"You're okay?" Kurt checked again. 

Blaine nodded. His movements were still slow and deliberate, but the haze had lifted from his eyes, at least. "Go," he pushed gently at kurt's shoulder. "It's late -I'm just going to go to sleep, anyway. Go," he repeated. "I don't want you to get in trouble with your dad."

Kurt still had a nagging feeling that he shouldn't be leaving, but his dad was going to be angry - and worse, might be worried - and Blaine seemed pretty confident. So Kurt allowed himself to be persuaded to leave, kissing Blaine goodbye at the door and admonishing him to go to bed, he'd see him tomorrow.

By dint of judicious speeding, Kurt made it home by curfew (although only just), and slipped upstairs past his father's raised eyebrow and greeting of "Had a good time at Blaine's?"

("Yeah, we watched a movie and had dinner."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"Dad!"

"Just be safe, Kurt."

"Ohmygod."

"Do we need to have another talk? I have more pamphlets-"

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you."

"Always use a condom, Kurt. Safety first!"

"I'm not talking to you anymore.  Goodnight.")

***

After the door shut behind Kurt, Blaine slowly made his way back up the stairs. He felt unsteady on his feet, like his knees could give out at any moment. It was disconcerting. 

He balked at the door to his room. He couldn't go back in there now. The fuzzy contentment of earlier was fading away, and mortified humiliation was taking its place.

Had Blaine really acted like that? God, what must Kurt think of him now? He hadn't wanted to leave, kept asking if Blaine was okay - Kurt was such an amazing boyfriend, so loving and compassionate, and what did Blaine do? Act like some kind of, of freak and refuse to get up and eat from his boyfriend's fingers (and not in a sexy way; like a pet) -

Blaine couldn't go back in there. The closet door was still open, a plate with crackers lying nearby. 

Heat stung at the back of his eyelids, and nausea swirled deep in his stomach.

Blaine spent the rest of the night on the couch.
            

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