Warnings: spanking and um… some biting
Length: ~3500 words
Notes: Started this aaaages ago, deleted most of it, redid it tonight. slightestwind was lovely as usual and looked it over for me quickly, any remaining mistakes are mine and you’re free to let me know about them if they bug you :D
It starts completely by accident.
But perhaps that’s not exactly right.
Blaine becomes aware of it completely by accident.
It’s not like he was searching out new and exciting ways to be a pervert.
He’s standing in front of Kurt’s vanity, running his hands over his hair, making sure Kurt hasn’t dislodged any of it with his surprisingly insistent fingers during their impromptu make out session, and Kurt walks behind him, brisk and happy.
“Hurry your cute butt up; we’re gonna be late to the movie.”
And then he does it.
It’s just a light, playful swat, the palm of Kurt’s hand across the roundest part of Blaine’s ass, a passing swipe as he leaves the room.
But it’s obviously more than that, because Blaine is immediately, head-swimmingly hard. His hands shove out in front of him, heels of his palms slamming down onto the counter as he sways, face hot and mind racing. He stares at his flushed cheeks in the mirror, bewildered, and Kurt’s concerned voice sounds muffled through the blood pounding in his ears.
He’s been spanked before. By his parents as a child. By Rachel that one time in glee. It hadn’t actually done anything for him those times, thank god, and certainly nothing like this.
“I’m fine,” he croaks, then tries again, pushing away from the vanity, running his hands down his shirt to give them something to do. “I’m fine. Just got… dizzy. For a second.” It’s not a lie. He turns to Kurt, giving a reassuring smile. “Maybe we should get something more filling than popcorn at the movie.”
Kurt gives him a worried look and frets a little with his hair, stroking it around his ear like Blaine hadn’t recently spent five minutes doing just that, but he lets Blaine usher him out the door of his room and doesn’t ask any further questions.
The thing is, there’s no way he can keep something like this a secret from his boyfriend. Blaine’s a blurter. He blurts. It will come out eventually. “I blurt,” he says one day during their mid-morning sneaky hug time in the choir room, hating himself immediately.
Kurt looks at him for a moment and then shakes his head. He pulls an arm up between them, patting Blaine on the chest. “You Blaine.”
Blaine stares at him. Kurt withdraws his hand and sets it on his own chest and says solemnly. “Me Kurt.”
Oh. “Shut up,” Blaine sighs and rolls his eyes. He shoves at Kurt’s shoulder but pulls him back in close before he can sway too far away. He likes his boyfriend as close as possible, thank you very much. Even if he is a jerk.
Kurt smiles and hums and nudges his nose into Blaine’s temple, his fingers slipping up Blaine’s sides, tickling and petting and just being distracting in general. “What were you going to say?”
“I was just- I was trying to… warn you, I guess,” Blaine says lamely.
“Warn me that you blurt things out?” Kurt clarifies, leaning back to look at Blaine.
Blaine grabs Kurt’s waist tight, making sure he doesn’t go too far away, and nods.
“Sweetie, the third time we had coffee together you informed me that you hadn’t had a sex dream that didn’t somehow feature biscotti since you were thirteen. You were eating biscotti.” He wraps Blaine up tighter in his embrace and smiles into his hair. “I know your filter is easily preoccupied.”
Sighing dejectedly, Blaine rubs his thumbs under Kurt’s ribs and ducks low, pressing his forehead against Kurt’s neck.
“It’s adorable.” Kurt reassures him.
“It’s not going to be,” Blaine can’t help but mutter.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sighing heavily once more, Blaine steps back, almost out of Kurt’s reach and straightens his back even as his shoulders slump forward. “It means I’m probably going to say something soon on accident and you’re not gonna think I’m cute, you’re gonna think I’m weird. Possibly undateable.”
Kurt simply looks at him for a moment, head cocked and gaze sharp. He breaks the silent stare-down with a smile. “I already think you’re weird.”
The roll of Blaine’s eyes is punctuated by the ringing bell.
Kurt laughs and leans over to grab the strap of his satchel, hitching it up on his shoulder and turning back to Blaine. He crowds in close as he passes by and kisses the corner of Blaine’s mouth. “I’ll see you at lunch,” he murmurs through a smile.
Blaine is about to reply when Kurt’s hand swats, quick and teasing, at Blaine’s ass before he flounces away.
Blaine is standing alone in the choir room, flushed and confused and trying desperately to will his erection away, when the second bell rings.
“Listen,” Kurt says as they tromp up the stairs to his room. “You’re being unreasonable.”
“Well I think you’re being rude,” Blaine huffs. Seriously. It’s going to come out at some embarrassing point or another, why won’t Kurt let them enjoy the time they have left? He asks as much, and Kurt laughs at him, tugging him by the hands until he’s standing in front of Kurt, who sinks gracefully down onto the edge of his bed.
“I love you, Blaine Anderson, and one little foot fetish isn’t going to change that.”
“Nice try, but no.”
Kurt sucks his lips in and squints up at Blaine. “You want me to… lick your armpits.”
“No,” Blaine says, the word cut down the middle by a laugh.
“Put you in a bib and feed you nothing but soft cheese for hours at a time.”
“Does it involve food of any kind?”
Blaine shakes his head and watches fondly and Kurt scrunches his nose up in thought.
“Does it involve animals?”
“Relax,” Kurt readjusts his grip on Blaine’s hands and pulls him a little closer. “I was just wondering if you wanted me to dress up in a saddle and pretend to be your horse or something.”
Blaine wiggles a hand free and brushes his thumb over Kurt’s cheek. “You’re not really the horse type.”
“You’re right,” Kurt says, leaning into the touch and still looking steadily up at Blaine. “I’m much more of a swan.”
Snorting, Blaine slides his hand down and rubs his knuckles under Kurt’s jaw. “You’re a cat.”
“Well you’re a brat.” Kurt bats Blaine’s hand away and grabs him by the hips, eyebrows drawn together and lips tightened at the corners disapprovingly. “Why won’t you just tell me?”
Sighing and cocking his head, Blaine takes in the defeated slump of Kurt’s shoulders. “You promise not to think I’m gross?”
“As long as it’s not actually that one about the cheese. I don’t think that’s very healthy.” Kurt readjusts his grip on Blaine’s hips, tugging him closer. He tilts his head back and rests his chin against Blaine’s belly, blinking prettily and waiting.
“It doesn’t have anything to do with cheese,” Blaine assures him, hands coming up to cup the back of Kurt’s head.
“Does it require any special equipment at all?”
“Nope,” Blaine shakes his head, a smile easing its way across his lips. He’s being stupid. This is Kurt. “Just you.”
“So not bondage, then,” Kurt deduces, and Blaine wonders if maybe the slump of his shoulders means he’s disappointed.
“Not saying no to the possibility of bondage,” he says, and the bright look in Kurt’s eye makes it okay. Okay to take a deep breath. Okay to lean over close. Okay to whisper softly in his boyfriend’s ear, “I think I’d really like it if you spanked me.”
Kurt’s quiet for a moment, eyes immediately catching Blaine’s when he leans back to look. He gives a shuddery exhale that eventually turns into a phony huff of annoyance and his voice, when it comes, is soft and sweet and everything Blaine loves about him. “Why didn’t you just say so?”
Blaine just shrugs and pushes closer, planting his knees on either side of Kurt’s hips and lowering his weight across Kurt’s thighs, perching precariously but trusting Kurt to keep him from falling.
Warm, strong arms slide across his back and Blaine tucks his face against Kurt’s neck, arms resting over his shoulders.
“We’ve got a little while before anyone gets home,” Kurt murmurs, turning his head to press a kiss against Blaine’s ear. “You wanna try it?” Splayed-out hands rub down Blaine’s back, pressing and massaging until they’re sliding over Blaine’s ass, kneading lightly.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Blaine nods. “But not too hard at first, okay? I just wanna feel what it’s like.”
“Mmkay.” Kurt leans his head over, cheek pressing comfortingly against Blaine’s jaw, and continues to run his palms over Blaine’s ass, unhurried and thorough.
Blaine waits a minute but nothing happens beyond the slow, rhythmic massage of his ass. “Kurt?”
“I love you a lot, you know,” Kurt says, soft and serious.
Blaine is leaning back to look at him, anticipation momentarily forgotten, when the first sharp smack comes swift and high on his ass. He lurches forward, stunned and gasping, and Kurt catches him with a hand around his neck, holds him up and kisses the noises from his lips as another blow falls.
It’s terrifying, the shock of it, the breathtaking twist of arousal and shame and pleasegodmore that shoots through him at the smack of his boyfriend’s hand. He tears his lips away from Kurt’s, resting his cheek on Kurt’s shoulder and panting out wet, shuddering breaths as he stares blankly at the wall. His back is bowed, curved out and shivering where Kurt pets it.
“Keep going,” Blaine manages to whisper.
“Please k- just- Keep going.”
“Look at me.”
“Kurt,” Blaine whines, sucking in a breath when he feels a sharp tap on his ass. He lifts his head and turns to find Kurt watching him worriedly.
Kurt sighs and cups Blaine’s jaw with one hand. “Those aren’t-” he hesitates, licks his lips, and pushes on, “they don’t sound like happy noises.”
Blaine can feel the heat of a blush prickle across his cheeks and his chest, but grinds down anyway, making Kurt feel what he can’t put into words.
Mouth falling open, slack and soft and pink, Kurt drops his hands and catches Blaine’s hips, riding out the motion with him and keeping him pressed close.
“I need it.” Blaine hears himself say. He blurts it out like it isn’t something new and terrifying and intensely private. “Kurt, I-”
“Look at me,” Kurt breathes, one hand sliding around to rest on his waistband. “Just keep looking at me, okay?”
Blaine starts to shake his head but Kurt’s other hand is at his neck, thumb curving firm against the bone of his jaw, holding him still. “I need to see your face.”
Kurt gazes at Blaine, watches him blink and swallow and give an almost imperceptible nod, and then he lifts his hand and brings it down swiftly against Blaine’s ass.
Blaine’s face when the blow lands is a different sort of beautiful than Kurt’s used to. It’s wrecked and desperate and twisted up in a plea, so Kurt kisses him, holds him and falls back, sinking into the bed like a dream. “Off,” he says, and rolls them over, pushing Blaine onto the mattress. He rids the panicked look from Blaine’s face by rolling him onto his stomach and pawing ineffectually at the waistband of his jeans. “Off. Down. Now.”
Rubbing his cheek against the comforter, Blaine closes his eyes and lifts his ass, sliding his knees under himself and fumbling at his fly.
Kurt goes still and watches for a moment, traces relief in the dip of Blaine’s shoulders and excitement in the quiver of his thighs. When Blaine finally gets his zipper down Kurt rolls over and pushes himself up to his knees, shuffling closer. His fingers slip under the waistband and press in close to warm, smooth skin. Dragging the denim down over the curve of Blaine’s ass, exposing already-pink skin that’s hotter to the touch than the rest of him, Kurt shivers at the thrill that runs through him.
Palming the faint marks, he leans down and pushes damp kisses into Blaine’s temple. “Tell me when to stop. Tell me anything you need.”
He waits for Blaine’s eyes to flicker open in acknowledgment before he leans up and back, smoothing his hand over Blaine’s ass one more time. “Okay,” he mutters to himself, licking his lips. His left hand settles on Blaine’s lower back, clutching a little at the bunched-up fabric of his shirt, pushing it higher just to see more skin. Before he can overthink it he brings his other hand down, sharp and swift.
The smack echoes in the room, twining with Blaine’s answering cry and battling to be heard over the rushing in Kurt’s ears.
He breathes out, gripping Blaine’s shirt tightly and blinking as he processes the stinging of his palm, the shift of Blaine’s shoulder blades as he heaves in breaths.
“More,” Blaine says shakily. “Please. Keep going, and… and harder.” He wriggles down, his entire upper chest pressed against the mattress, and shoves his ass up, knees spreading wider. His arms stretch out above him and he grips the edge of the mattress, knuckles going white.
Kurt takes a deep breath and does it again, hand flat and wrist cocked. Riding out the impact, Blaine surges forward and back, and before Kurt can ask Blaine is sobbing out breathlessly, “More.” Kurt really can’t say no to that voice.
It goes on like that, Blaine asking for more whenever Kurt hesitates too long, and the cheeks of his ass flush from pink to a stark red under Kurt’s captivated gaze and stinging palm.
“I wish you could see,” Kurt breathes when Blaine is no longer prompting him for more. He lets his hand rest on the cherry red curve of Blaine’s ass, hot skin against hot skin, and stretches out next to him, propped up on an elbow. “The way you look.”
Blaine blinks his eyes open, peering at Kurt over his arm. His eyelashes are wet, clumped together and spiked out, so Kurt leans down to brush kisses down the shell of his ear. “I love you.”
Blaine whimpers and pushes onto his side, nearly elbowing Kurt in the face in his haste to get his arms around Kurt’s shoulders.
He’s still hard. Kurt feels it when he rolls onto his back and takes Blaine with him, feels the quick, accidental thrust as their hips slide together, pressed down tight by Blaine’s limp weight. “Kurt, Kurt, I-”
“Kiss me,” Kurt demands, sliding his hands down to rub at the dip of warm skin just above Blaine’s ass. “Shh, just- just kiss me.”
Blaine’s lips are wet and clumsy, imprecise where they drag urgently against Kurt’s. There’s a shift in their movements a few seconds in, Kurt bites at one of Blaine’s searching lips, pushes down with his hands as his hips roll up, and all of a sudden Blaine is wild with it. His mouth is open and wet against Kurt’s, their teeth clacking together as Blaine ruts down hard and fast, huffing out strained, harsh whines.
Kurt grabs him by the back of the neck to steady him, guides him down until he’s mouthing Kurt’s neck as their cocks rub together through their clothes. The hand on Blaine’s back slips lower, pressing and kneading, and Blaine’s thrusts get sharper, more sporadic. Gasping and arching up, Kurt’s wide-open eyes stare blindly at the ceiling when Blaine bites him, teeth digging snug and firm into the sensitive flesh where his neck meets his shoulder. It’s a reaction more than any conscious decision when Kurt smacks his hand down hard on Blaine’s ass.
Blaine goes quiet and still immediately, hipbones sharp against Kurt’s, body quivering with tension. The piercing pressure against Kurt’s neck eases.
The only sound in the room for a long, electric moment is Kurt’s shaky exhale. He lifts his hand away and waits until Blaine kisses him, right where his neck is sore and aching, before he brings it down again, fast and sharp.
Blaine’s breath comes rushing out, hot and humid against Kurt’s shoulder, and Kurt can feel his cock twitching, the searing, hard pulse of it trapped between them. He rubs at Blaine’s ass and rocks up, shoving them impossibly closer. “You’re so good,” he whispers, bending his legs and hugging Blaine’s hips tightly with his thighs. “You’re so good and so beautiful and I- unh,” he grunts, clamping his hands down against Blaine’s neck and his ass as they push together, hard, grinding thrusts with no real room to move. “I love you like this. I love you.”
Blaine arches and writhes, the short, gruff whimpers he lets out with every shift of their hips stoking up a fire in Kurt’s spine, in his belly. He spanks Blaine again, a quick series of smacks that ends with Blaine trembling and clutching at Kurt. His breath catches thickly as he pants against Kurt’s jaw. “K-Kurt, I-”
“Yeah, yes. It’s okay,” Kurt gasps. “It’s okay, it’s oh- oh!”
Blaine bares his teeth, scraping them along the hinge of Kurt’s jaw. The stop-start guttural moans he hitches out are close and damp in Kurt’s ear, loud and rushing like his pulse. Blaine works his ass up, shoving it against Kurt’s flexing palm, and thrusts back down, sending sparks of golden heat up through Kurt’s dick where it’s pressed between them, trapped by his jeans.
They’re both quiet when they come, breath caught in their throats and necks straining. Kurt watches the ceiling blur in and out of focus and feels Blaine’s eyes clenched tight against his shoulder.
“I love you,” Kurt murmurs. His legs relax and fall back to the bed. His hands trace lazy lines up and across Blaine’s shivering back. “I love you.”
When Blaine finally opens his eyes and looks Kurt is smiling and breathing in slow, open-mouthed huffs, staring off into space. He turns at the movement and meets Blaine’s gaze. “Okay?”
Blaine nods, shifts and slides until he’s not all the way on top of Kurt. “I’m fine. Great. I’m- are… you?”
“I’m perfect.” Kurt rolls over and grabs Blaine’s hand, curling their arms up between their chests. “Blaine that was…” He blinks and shrugs and heaves an elated sigh. “I came in my pants.”
Blaine laughs, lifting Kurt’s hand briefly to press a kiss against his knuckles.
“I came in my pants,” Kurt says again, half to himself, and then shakes his head slightly. “But you. Oh my god, Blaine. You were so…”
“You make me that way,” Blaine whispers, cutting Kurt off before he says something that makes Blaine blush even harder.
Kurt allows it, craning his head forward and pressing a kiss against the corner of Blaine’s mouth. “I really need to change before anyone else comes home. I can lend you some underwear if you want.” He says the last part with a smirk, letting Blaine’s hand go and sliding it around to palm gently at Blaine’s over-sensitive ass. “Silk ones, even,” he adds when Blaine’s hips jerk away from the light touch.
Blaine shifts uncomfortably, feeling the sticky mess in his bunched-up briefs for the first time. “That might be good.”
Kurt kisses him one last time and rolls away, groaning as he gets up and propels himself towards his closet, disappearing beyond the door.
“I love you,” Blaine calls after him, propping his chin up with one hand and subtly flexing the muscles of his ass. He feels the tight, raw burn of the tender skin there and can’t keep himself from grinning.
“I know,” Kurt answers, head and arm popping out from behind the closet door. He throws a pair of dark blue boxers at Blaine and vanishes again, although his disembodied voice remains. “That’s why you’re not going to weasel out of family dinner tonight.”
“I love Friday dinners,” Blaine says, mildly offended. “Why would I try to get out of it?” He hisses as he rolls onto his back, shoving his pants and underwear down quickly and pulling the clean boxers up over his still somewhat shaky legs.
“Because,” Kurt says. Blaine pushes himself up on his elbows to look. Kurt steps back into the room, tucking his shirt into his jeans as he does, and cocks his head fondly at Blaine. “You’re going to be sitting in an unforgiving wooden chair at a table with my father and you are not allowed to confirm or even hint at any butt-related injuries or sensitivity. Because he will know, Blaine.” Kurt sinks to his knees on the bed and crawls over to Blaine, who falls back without protest. “And this isn’t something I want to share with anybody. Especially my dad.”
“Could you stop talking about your dad and kiss me?” Blaine whispers, Kurt’s words rattling around in his still-fuzzy head. “I think I’m gonna need the fortitude.”
“Anything you want, honey,” Kurt replies softly, dipping his head low and ghosting his lips against Blaine’s. “You should know that by now.”