Something has changed within me
Something is not the same
I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game.
Too late for second guessing
Too late to go back to sleep
It's time to trust my instincts, close my eyes and leap.
Kurt finished work at the theater and turned off the lights, leaving only the Equity lamp burning center stage. It was an exhausting day of Shakespeare and sword fighting and 5 o'clock could not have come fast enough. He hailed a cab, not having the energy to walk across the city back to his apartment, and called Blaine just to check in. Their daughter had had an important doctor's appointment that afternoon that they should have just been getting home from.
"Hey Kurt," Blaine said cheerfully on the other end of the line.
"Hey, how was Serena's appointment?" Kurt asked, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. It was the first time off his feet in nearly 8 hours. Silence filled the line. He looked at his phone to make sure they were still connected but the seconds were continuing to count. "Blaine? Are you still there?"
"I forgot." Blaine's voice was so quiet Kurt could barely hear. But Kurt did hear, and what he heard left him livid.
"I'm sorry, you forgot?" Kurt yelled. "Our 3 year old daughter has a doctor's appointment we've been waiting more than three months for and you forgot?!"
"God, Kurt, I am so sorry," Blaine apologized profusely. "I was at the piano writing and she was playing so quietly in her room and I'm so so sorry!"
Kurt wasn't sure he had ever been angrier at someone in his life and the fact that it was his husband made everything ten times worse. "I can't talk to you right now," Kurt said, his voice cold. "I'll see you when I get home."
He hung up and made another phone call before putting the phone down to let himself stew in his anger. He couldn't believe that Blaine had been so irresponsible with something, someone, so important. He knew precisely what needed to be done about it. The only question was who would do it.
Blaine's hands were shaking so much the cell slipped from his fingers and onto the music room floor. His head spun. The moment his submission swirled, he heard his daughter's voice ring out. "Are you okay Papa?" she called. She had no idea yet what it was, but she always knew. She had her mother's strength.
He found his feet, as hard as they were to walk on, and he went to Serena's room to check on her. Dressed in a floral yellow dress, her soft raven curls flowing beautifully around her face, she was playing with her dolls on the floor of her pink and purple bedroom. "Yes munchkin I'm fine," Blaine said, his voice steady only through years of practice.
"Daddy will make you feel better when he gets home," she said. "Daddy always makes me feel better."
She went back to her dolls without further inquiry, and for a moment Blaine wondered how many more years they would have the luxury of her not questioning things further. It was a luxury he was grateful for now as he closed her door halfway, went into the living room and stared at the front door.
He knew that Kurt would not walk through that door alone. Though every time Blaine hoped he might.
Emotions roared through him, too volatile to let him think or even move. He was forbidden from standing in the corner with Serena home, he was forbidden from kneeling for Kurt, he couldn't stand naked and on display with Santana on her way, but he didn't deserve the relief of sitting to wait. His hands unconsciously flexed and twitched. He knew what he deserved and his whole body pulsed with the need. His muscles grew weak with shame, his skin tingled in anticipation, and his heart clenched with fire-hot guilt that was soothed only by the ice cold submission pumping through his veins. He had failed, more than he ever had before. As a husband, as a father and as a submissive. The weight of it was excruciating but he would not let himself fall. Not now. Now he just had to wait.
Kurt arrived outside the apartment only moments before Santana did and it looked like she had jogged the whole way there from her law office. He was sure he must look a sight to her, his blood still boiling, his face tense with his decision.
Instinctually she took charge. "Do you want to take Serena out to the park or do you want me to take Blaine back to my apartment?" she asked. She kept her own disappointment and anger at her sub's behavior in check. She was still his Dom after all and though Kurt and Blaine called upon her far less frequently than they used to, once or twice a year there were still occasions like today when misbehavior was too severe, when Blaine needed the one thing Kurt still could not bring himself to do, and they fell back into old roles.
But that wasn't what Kurt was looking for from her at all. "Neither," he said, his voice harsh. "I want you to take Serena."
She was momentarily shocked into silence. And then concern crept in. "Kurt," she said softly, watching him closely. "You know what he deserves. What he'll need. You can't punish this one your way, not when it's about your daughter."
Kurt gazed up at their apartment window where he knew Blaine was waiting. And he knew exactly what Blaine was waiting for. He took a deep breath and he turned back to his husband's Dom. "I am very well aware of that."
She tried to decide if she should argue. But she'd given away that right long ago. Unless one of them safeworded, she would have to step back. And Kurt's decision seemed final. "Okay."
They went upstairs and opened the door. Blaine was standing tall in the center of the room, his eyes forward, heavy, and clouded. His body was still, but for his hands fidgeting like crazy, desperately fighting the fall. Submission was pouring off of him, swirling fiercely around himself to keep it from Serena. They didn't know how long he had been standing there, awaiting punishment, wishing he could finally kneel but knowing he wouldn't dare. Not until Kurt and Serena were gone.
Santana's stern dark stare and Kurt's icy blue made Blaine visibly shiver, and his gaze flitted to the corner, wishing his nose was pressed to the wall where he couldn't see their anger and disappointment. Blaine's submission reached out to Santana but his eyes went wide when she refused it. And then they fell on Kurt.
Blaine had believed that Santana was there for him. His breath hitched when suddenly he realized he was wrong.
"Serena, your mother's here for you," Kurt called to his daughter's room down the hall, but his cold blue eyes were locked on Blaine's, never shifting. Even when their daughter came running from her room, hazel eyes just like her father's alight with excitement, his own gaze did not budge. And neither did Blaine's.
Luckily, she barely even noticed they were there. "Mommy!" she yelled, flying into Santana's arms. "I didn't know you were coming today!"
"Well I didn't either," Santana said sweetly. "But Auntie Britt and I were thinking of making chocolate chip cookies tonight and we remembered how much you love them and we didn't want you to miss it. So when your Daddy said he and your Papa needed to talk I took my chance to scoop you up."
"Yay!" Serena screeched.
Santana took her hand. "Let's go pack you an overnight bag and we girls can have a pajama party tonight."
"Can I bring my nail polish for you to paint my nails," she was saying as they went into her room. "Daddy bought me purple sparklies."
"Of course," Santana answered, closing the door softly behind them.
"Kurt, I'm so-" Blaine started but he snapped his mouth shut when Kurt's finger flew up sharply in warning. He offered Blaine nothing but a terse shake of his head. Talking while Serena was home was out of the question, especially while he was still so angry, and he had no qualms making Blaine wait.
The guilt and shame and fear; there shouldn't have been fear but there was, all threatened to overwhelm Blaine. He forced himself to breathe. He forced himself to stand. He forced himself to keep his eyes on Kurt and not to fall because he knew that submission would be the last thing his husband would want from him in that moment. But most of all he forced himself to trust that whatever Kurt had planned would be right.
The girls emerged quickly and Santana kept Serena talking so she wouldn't notice what was going on right in front of her or try to run to her fathers to say goodbye. But as she ushered the girl out the door, Santana looked back at her sub and his husband with tears that stung at her eyes. Because she knew that the moment she crossed that threshold, she would be leaving something precious behind. Something she long ago realized she'd one day lose. She just hadn't known when she'd woken up that morning that today would be the day.
She would always love Blaine. He would always be her best friend. In the eyes of the law she would always be his Dom. But when they came to pick Serena up in the morning, she knew Blaine wouldn't be her sub anymore. Not really. "We'll see you tomorrow," she said softly over her shoulder and then the door was closed.
The silence in the apartment was deafening. The privacy was suffocating. And Kurt's learned dominance, whether he wanted it to be or not, was intoxicating. Too intoxicating for Blaine to ignore and now that their daughter was gone he couldn't hold back anymore. He lowered his eyes, knowing that lowering his body was forbidden. He let his submission go and wrap around Kurt. And he waited.
Minutes seemed to pass before Kurt spoke. Then the strong, deliberate words were the last Blaine would have expected. "Years ago, you asked me what it would take to get me to spank you. I honestly wanted to believe that there would never be something so great that nothing else would make sense," Kurt echoed his father's words and he took courage in his father's belief in him. His eyes hardened, with anger, determination, and the overwhelming confidence that this was right. "But here we are. Because for the first time, in the ten years that we have been together, I have every intention of taking you over my knee and spanking you until you are begging me to stop."
Blaine's head went fuzzy and he was on his knees before he could stop himself, but he did force himself to look back up at Kurt. What he saw broke him. Kurt's harsh glare, his beautiful lips pressed firmly together, and all Blaine could think about was making that look go away and never ever come back. "Kurt. Sir." He choked back a sob, trying not to cry. "I am so sorry. I got distracted composing, I'll make it right though I promise. I'll call them first thing in the morning."
"I reminded you three times this week Blaine. Hell I reminded you this morning," Kurt said, his voice steady and cold. "I told you not to get lost at the piano. I told you to set an alarm."
"I trusted you Blaine!" Kurt shouted and the tears of shame and guilt fell from Blaine's eyes and he couldn't stop them if he wanted to. "I could have changed rehearsal, I could have left early to make sure I was home to bring her, but you promised me that you would do this and I trusted you."
"I know, I know," Blaine cried, shaking his head. "I screwed up and I'm so sorry and I deserve to be punished, I need you to punish me, Kurt, please. Whatever you want."
There had been days, many years ago, where Kurt would have balked at the request, at Blaine's desire to have that be a part of their relationship. But those were years long passed. And today had pushed Kurt to a level he once thought he would never reach. But apparently he'd been wrong.
"Stand up," Kurt ordered and Blaine did as he was told, wiping the tears from his eyes. This he could do, this would make it better. Follow orders, take his punishment, be forgiven and forgive himself. "Go to the couch, take your pants down to your knees and wait for me."
Blaine watched Kurt go into their bedroom and close the door, and with a sigh of relief he did as he was told. He lowered his pants and underwear to his knees, knowing that the awkwardness of his dress was to prevent him from feeling that there would be anything sexual about what was about to happen. But standing vulnerable, waiting, half naked in their living room, he felt Kurt's words truly sink in. Kurt planned on spanking him. After years of imagining what it would be like, after years of accepting it would never happen, after years of being denied his strongest desire, he was standing there waiting for Kurt to spank him. For the first time in his life he would be over the knee of the man he loved, spanked skin to skin. He wouldn't have to imagine any more.
He knew it shouldn't but his heart began to race, no longer with fear or guilt but anticipation. Excited blood rushed away from his head causing an almost pleasant dizziness and an eager cock. He knew the spanking was meant to be punishment and he was sure it would be but he didn't think there would be anything that would dull the pleasure of what Kurt was soon to do.
He was horribly wrong.
Kurt knew. Blaine had been begging practically since the first day they'd met for this. But he wasn't naïve. He knew that if he wasn't careful this would be the furthest thing from punishment for Blaine. And that was not at all what he intended. He was furious. Santana would tell him he was too angry to continue and needed to calm down, but he didn't have the luxury of Dom hormones to keep him resolved. If he waited until he was calm he was afraid he would lose his will to spank Blaine, and he absolutely intended to spank him. But he knew there was only one thing that would ensure it was punishment and not play.
He went into the drawer on his side of the bed and he pulled it out, ten years old and never used. He'd often considered getting rid of it, but he never had, almost as if he'd known that someday he would get to the point where it would be needed.
He walked back out with it folded in his fist, coming around the couch face to face with Blaine. He said nothing. But words weren't necessary as he opened his hand and showed Blaine what was inside.
Blaine visibly recoiled. The cock ring that he'd refused time and time again until Kurt had finally stopped mentioning it sat menacingly on Kurt's palm. He hated it. He hated everything it represented. He looked up at Kurt, wide eyed. "No," he refused, his voice strangled but resolute.
"It's not a choice Blaine," Kurt told him with a calm firmness. "Put it on."
"No," Blaine yelled, and he would have backed away if he could have done it without tripping over himself. "I won't come Kurt, I promise. I can hold it without that, I've always been able to hold it without that, please, sir-"
"I can't trust you!" Kurt shouted and Blaine blanched at his words. "How can I trust you not to come if I can't even trust you with something as important as taking our daughter to the doctor?"
And that was when Blaine realized that the spanking wasn't the punishment at all. Not really. This was. The humiliation and shame and indignity of being forced to use a fucking toy to control his orgasm because Kurt couldn't trust him to control it himself. The disgrace of being told he couldn't be trusted to be a good enough husband, a good enough father, a good enough submissive. His stomach clenched and his heart literally ached and the tears burned as they fell freely because there was no worse punishment than that. Kurt wasn't even offering him the chance to make things right. "How can I prove you can trust me again with the ring on?" he asked through his tears.
The tears broke Kurt's heart a little. Blaine's pain shattered it. But he knew he could not back down now. Blaine wouldn't respect him, respect this, if he did. "Little by little you can earn it back," Kurt told him honestly. "But not today."
Blaine shook his head, staring at the device in Kurt's hand. He wanted to be good for Kurt, so good and so obedient. But he couldn't. It made him nauseous to even think about touching it. About admitting what it meant. "I can't," he sobbed.
Kurt couldn't force this. He had to offer him a way out. But Blaine also needed to understand the gravity of that decision, what Kurt was putting of himself on the line today. "I can put it away," he said and Blaine's eyes shot back up with hope. "You can safeword and I can call Santana and we can go to her apartment in the morning after we bring Serena to school. But what you did was inexcusable and I will not have the significance of this punishment reduced to nothing more than play. I will not spank you without the ring."
Kurt was shockingly calm and Blaine knew his anger was dissipating while the resolve in his eyes was growing even stronger. But there was something about them…
"Blaine, you have wanted this practically since the moment we met. Maybe even before. It's taken me ten years. If you refuse now," Kurt's eyes flickered down, just for a second, "I won't offer again. I can't put myself through that."
And Blaine understood what he saw. This wasn't his Dom talking. This was just Kurt, at his most vulnerable, just as scared as him. And Kurt needed this as much as he did. For the first time, Kurt needed to punish him as much as Blaine needed the punishment.
This was what a real claim felt like.
Blaine's eyes dropped back to the ring. His stomach clenched, his mouth went dry and he couldn't stop the tears. He tried to reach for it but his hand wouldn't move. "I can't..." His voice quivered but he looked up, knowing what he had to do. "Will you put it on me? Please?"
Blaine's courage was always one of the things that Kurt loved best about him. "Yes." Kurt's voice was gentle. "Yes I will."
Blaine closed his eyes and then he felt Kurt's hands on him, threading him carefully through the ring. He had to fight the urge to safeword, to flee, but he fought it just like he had so long ago with Santana and Brittany. Kurt may not have been born a Dom, but he was Blaine's husband, his best friend, and the Dom of his heart and Blaine trusted him to know exactly what he needed.
He heard Kurt settle onto the couch. "Open your eyes Blaine and look at me," he ordered and Blaine obeyed. His Dom had returned, eyes fierce and resolute. "Why are you being punished?"
Blaine swallowed. "I betrayed your trust. I didn't respect the importance of her appointment because if I had I would have made sure it came before my work. I didn't intend to be dishonest when I promised you I would take her but I was."
With every confession, Kurt's face softened more. "Over my knee, sweetheart," he said tenderly.
Heart racing, Blaine laid himself over Kurt's lap, pliant and obedient, allowing himself to be adjusted as necessary. A little lower in the front. Kurt's knee raised a little higher to stretch his sit spot. Tips of his fingertips to the floor. His bound cock pressed firmly between Kurt's thighs. It was entirely unfamiliar to both of them and their movements were uncertain but to Blaine at least it felt the most right a spanking had ever been. When Kurt rested his hand on the bare skin of his ass, Blaine shuddered. His cock stirred immediately.
"Safe word?" Kurt asked as he always did.
"New York," Blaine breathed.
And then without ceremony or instruction, Kurt's hand rose and crashed back down.
Kurt wasn't holding back at all. Blaine hissed, the blow falling right in the center of his ass, causing the burn to spread in every direction. Without time for recovery it came down again and again in a relentless pattern. Blaine tried to count in his head but sometime around 15 the pain had grown too intense to keep track. Kurt concentrated on Blaine's sit spot but he didn't neglect the rest, coloring his skin from pink to red quickly with the strength Blaine often forgot Kurt had developed through years of stage combat training. Despite only using his hand, the spanking hurt more than any smack of the paddle or strap ever had from Santana, and Blaine tried desperately to fall to lessen the pain. But he couldn't. With the cock ring on Blaine was completely robbed of his ability to fall into subspace, leaving him trapped on the edge with senses heightened instead of dulled.
Despite the pain, or perhaps because of it, he was hard. He was desperately hard and he rutted between Kurt's thighs for whatever friction he could get. Kurt allowed it, knowing that it was only increasing his frustration, his desperation. His punishment. Blaine was desperate for the pleasure he knew was there, even if he could only capture it for just a moment, and he tried again to fall but it was like a wall, burning his submission, hot and cold all at once like liquid nitrogen. Blaine had hated the idea of the ring before when it was only a theory but now he despised it. He needed it off. He needed to be good for Kurt on his own, he needed to prove himself to Kurt, to himself. He needed the freedom to submit and to fall and the ring was the complete opposite of freedom. Kurt had denied him submission as punishment before but even then it had always been in his own control. This though, this wasn't choice. This was domination at its strongest, ripping his submission away from him and Blaine feared it would break him from the inside out.
"Sir, please," he begged. "I need it off, sir. Please."
"Not yet," Kurt punctuated with two spanks, one to each of his thighs.
Blaine's breath hitched and he cried out. "God, Kurt it hurts." His cock throbbed. His submission boiled. He wasn't sure how much more he could take but he refused to safeword.
"I was under the impression that a spanking is supposed to hurt Blaine," Kurt said dryly, delivering another burning smack to his sit spot.
"No, yes, I mean…" Blaine sucked in a breath, wincing at another smack that set his entire body, inside and out, ablaze. He was trying to take it, wanted to take every part of the punishment Kurt thought he deserved. But the complete loss of control was beyond his limits. "The ring," he managed to stammer. He didn't want to stop the spanking, he just needed the ring off. "God, please, Kurt, it hurts. Yellow, please yellow."
Kurt stopped immediately. He placed one hand on Blaine's bright red burning skin which only ignited the fire beneath it but at least it didn't add more. "The ring hurts?" Kurt reached quickly down with his other hand to feel it, fearful now that he had done something wrong, put it on too tight or gone too far.
Blaine keened at the touch, god he wanted that touch and so much more, but more than anything he wanted to earn it. "No, not exactly." With the blows stopped he could think a little straighter. "I can't submit, can't fall, with it on. And it burns. Inside. In my soul." He knew it wouldn't make sense but he didn't know how to explain it or if Kurt could ever understand. "Please Kurt, please, I know I don't deserve it, but please let me fall, let me prove you can trust me. I may be a terrible husband and father but let me be a good sub, don't take that from me."
Kurt didn't say a word, but Blaine could feel his hand, gentle on his arm, leading him up off his lap. He tried hard not to stumble but he was weak and his equilibrium was off from being upside down. "You may not come," Kurt ordered and Blaine nodded almost hysterically. He didn't want to be allowed to, not yet. He wanted time, time to show Kurt that he could be trusted, that he could be good. Time to give Kurt the submission that he unquestionably deserved. Blaine closed his eyes like before and felt Kurt's hand on him and just the touch as he unclipped the ring would have been enough to make him come if he hadn't been ready for it. But he was, he was determined and even the firm, testing, teasing encircling of his cock in Kurt's fingers didn't tempt him. Blaine opened his lids, looking down at his Dom. Kurt's eyes were staring up at him, heady on power, but looking at him as though he could see inside his soul. Blaine almost thought Kurt would swallow him whole right there. But he didn't. Instead he grabbed a throw to pull over his lap. And then, with an almost unnoticeable quiver of a breath, he placed a hand on Blaine's aching flesh and squeezed. Blaine gasped against the surge of his submission and his arousal at the pain, at the feeling of being owned. And then Kurt asked, "Shall we continue?"
Blaine nodded his surety. "Yes sir."
"How many more do you need?"
Blaine looked to the floor. Kurt could have asked him how many he wanted or how many he thought he could take but he didn't. In the time between the last smack and now, Kurt had forgiven him. Now he only asked how many Blaine needed; to forgive himself, to fall. To go safely beyond his limits.
"I don't know," he whispered. "I trust you."
Blaine's submission surged and wrapped tightly and he didn't even wait for Kurt. He laid himself back down, shifted back into position and let his mind and his body drift at the feel of the burn in his skin that Kurt had put there, mixed with the inescapable pleasure coiling inside him. Free and full against Kurt's thighs, he made the conscious decision, as he did every day, to give all control of his orgasm to Kurt. And he fell. He felt Kurt encircle him to keep him safe and he fell into a blissful fuzziness, knowing that the spanking had started again, that Kurt still wasn't being easy on him, that however many more smacks Kurt would give him would just add to what was sure to be an already painful few days. But he barely felt it now. His concentration was entirely on his orgasm, so close, so strong, hovering in his belly just on this side of release but he held it. He held it not because he wanted to; he wanted so desperately to come he wondered if the need was something a person could die from. But he held it because Kurt had told him to. Kurt had trusted him to do so even in the throes of his greatest fantasy, and he would never, ever, give Kurt reason not to trust him again. He had nothing to count, he had no idea how long was left, and he knew that if he let go of his concentration he would fail, so he turned just a little bit to Kurt's voice, so he could listen. So he could do what he was told.
"Five more Blaine," Kurt was saying and he felt the hand on his backside in the distance and he knew that it hurt, but he didn't have the ability to register that right now. Everything he had was focused on Kurt's voice and the raging storm in his belly, the throbbing of his cock and the tightness of his balls.
"Last one," Kurt announced and when it came down Blaine held his breath because he didn't have permission, not yet. For a moment Blaine's skin was left to the cool open air, but just when he thought he might die from lack of touch, Kurt's hand returned gently, caressing softly over the swell of his ass for far too long before slipping down further to cup his desperate balls. Kurt rolled them between his fingers, tracing every curve and fold and Blaine was panting now, near hyperventilation at the effort of holding back, until he thought he might pass out. Then a thumb brushed over his hole. "Your punishment's over Blaine," Kurt told him, teasing soft circles with exquisite cruelty. Blaine counted the heartbeats between those words and the next until Kurt finally, mercifully, spoke again. "You may come."
Blaine had never in his life had an orgasm like the one that night. His muscles shuddered and convulsed, sparks shot through every inch of his body, his toes curled and he screamed. He screamed with the waves of pleasure that shot through him and the ecstasy that flooded his mind and the all-encompassing love he had for Kurt. The grip of his submission began to slip and Kurt let him fall, expertly catching him with the force of his love at just the right moment, letting him come back up at his own speed. The tears started again but this time they were tears of relief and absolution and such absolute love for his husband. When the shockwaves finally stopped, Blaine vaguely recognized that Kurt was easing him off his lap. He was cleaning Blaine off and gently pulling his clothes back up, trapping the heat. Kurt rid himself of the blanket and brought Blaine fully onto the couch, resting his head on his lap, like Santana had taught him so long ago. Blaine felt Kurt's fingers brush through his hair and somewhere in the distance the words "I love you" were trying to make their way into his consciousness. Finally they did and he blinked up at Kurt. Kurt was looking down on him, no anger in his eyes, but also no smile on his face.
"Are you okay," Blaine whispered and Kurt nodded silently. The fingers not curled in his hair were stroking up and down Blaine's hip, gently. Blaine could feel Kurt hard beneath his head and he rubbed a thumb along Kurt's pants, wanting nothing more than to serve. But he'd wait until it was requested. Until he earned the privilege back. "I'm so proud of you," Blaine said softly. He just wished that Kurt could be proud of him. "I'm really, really sorry Kurt."
"I know you are sweetheart," Kurt said, brushing the sweat and tear soaked curls off his forehead. "And I forgive you. You are a great father, and a great husband, and quite possibly the best submissive in the world," Kurt said, needing Blaine to believe it. "You just made a mistake."
"You were so angry," Blaine muttered.
Kurt nodded. "I was," he agreed. "But that's not why I did what I did." Blaine sat up as best he could, wincing at the pain and knowing that it was going to keep him off the piano for a few days while he healed. But he needed to look Kurt in the eye. Kurt reached a hand to Blaine's cheek and stroked it gently, smiling softly. "I knew what you would need, and I knew that Santana could give it to you. But I also knew that it wouldn't have been enough for you. It wouldn't have been enough for me. Because you had broken a promise to me to care for our daughter. This was between you and me and Serena. I knew I had to handle it, for both of us."
There was a lot running through Blaine's mind but none of his thoughts made it past his lips. The only thing he could say was, "Thank you."
"I love you Blaine. Heart and soul. All of you. Your artistry and your passion, your fire and your submission. I am yours." Kurt kissed him, a soft, languid, loving kiss that Blaine felt down to his toes and softened the burn in his skin if only for a moment. It was a kiss of a golden contract, a claim, a promise that whatever happened from here on out was between them and them alone. Being equals didn't mean denying who they were. It meant rising to be the person that the other needed. And compromising didn't make either them or their love weaker. It only made them both stronger. Kurt pulled his lips away but his hands stayed cupping Blaine's face and he allowed himself to get lost in his warm golden eyes. He never wanted to be anywhere else. "Kneel for me," he whispered.
Every bone in Blaine's body went soft but without a thought he obeyed, slipping off of the couch and kneeling, bowing his head, eyes trained firmly on the ground, as he once had in a church so long ago.
"Look at me Blaine," Kurt ordered and though it was not even remotely his first act of submission, it felt like it was as he obeyed.
"You are mine," Kurt said sacredly.
He crouched down and cupped Blaine's cheek, bringing their lips together, and when they kissed it was as if this too was their first time. When at last they parted and Kurt rose again, Blaine looked up at him with nothing but reverence. "I am yours," he promised with every piece of his heart. "Only yours."
There's no fight we cannot win
Just you and I defying gravity