Blaine knew that something was wrong the moment that he saw Kurt fast asleep on the bed in his day clothes. The only thing he had managed to do was thumb off his shoes – shoes that seemed to have been blindly thrown in the general vicinity of the closet. Blaine had skipped out on his study group in order to get home before his fiancé; but the two hour advantage had been rendered useless. Not only had Kurt beat him home, he was in a deep slumber that Blaine was loathing waking him from. There would be time for conversation later, he supposed.
Kurt had been acting strangely over the past few days – he moved from anger to silence to a churlishness that left Blaine wanting to give him a good shake more than once recently. There was a lot he was willing to tolerate – they accepted a lot from each other during their off-days – but as time passed, Blaine realised that what was happening to Kurt went well beyond his usual stresses from work and school. Something was causing him to act out, and Blaine had hoped to use this afternoon to sort his beautiful fiancé out.
It had started off small, a snap here, a bit of delinquency there, but then it started escalating. Two nights ago, Blaine had ended their movie night prematurely because Kurt simply could not sit still. He fidgeted, made small sounds and sighed continuously until Blaine thought it better for them to simply retire early to their bedroom. Kurt had settled after a few minutes in his arms, and though they had talked about nothing of value, Blaine could sense calm from his fiancé in the seconds before he succumbed to sleep in his arms. That calm had not lasted long though. Just yesterday, he had refused to do his share of the chores, and when he started, he had complained loudly, banging dishes and sweeping half-heartedly until Blaine had shot him *that* look – the one that instantly brought him to heel. At that moment it became fairly obvious to Blaine that Kurt was unconsciously acting out against him out of a sense of guilt. He was hiding something him and stressing himself out trying to deal with the matter on his own. He didn't know how to ask for help, and so had resorted to behaviours he hoped would force Blaine's hand so to speak.
But caving to that silent plea for help wasn't in the cards – at least not yet. Blaine wanted to give Kurt a chance to prove that he had improved since their last discussion, to show that he had grown. It was remarkable the things they had learnt about themselves after they had adopted aspects of the D/S lifestyle into their everyday routines. Their stumbling into that club during their freshman year of college had been entirely accidental, but what had started off as horror, had quickly moved into curiosity and experimentation. Six months after that had saw them fully integrate aspects of it; their relationship had only strengthened since.
Contemplating on the times they had shared together over the past five years, Blaine allowed his hand to run gently along Kurt's side as he studied him. Even in his sleep there was a slight furrow to his brow that Blaine could not resist trying to kiss away. Kurt didn't react though, and so, deciding that it was best to let him sleep, Blaine left him with a second kiss. Perhaps he had misunderstood, Blaine thought as he left the room. Maybe Kurt was simply coming down with a cold and was acting strangely as a result of denying it. It would not be the first time that had happened.
Blaine spent the next few hours flitting about the apartment, dealing with the clutter that inevitably accumulated during the week. He contemplated cooking, but after seeing last night's leftovers untouched, he settled for baking a batch of cookies instead. With nothing left to do, he settled down on the couch, idly flicking through channels. He would give Kurt thirty more minutes to sleep, he decided eventually. He had no idea what time his love had first settled down for his nap, but if he let him sleep much longer than that, he would be up for the entire night, and that was certainly something he did not want. Three minutes shy of that half an hour Blaine heard the faint sounds of Kurt stumbling out of the bed. A toilet flushed not too long after that, and Blaine had just enough time to rest the remote back on the table before Kurt was besides him, adorably dishevelled as he plopped down besides him on the couch, tugging at his arm with a pout until, with a small laugh, Blaine relented and allowed Kurt to settle comfortably underneath his arm. He kissed his forehead tenderly, enjoying the warmth of his skin.
Kurt was relaxed against him for several minutes, content to nuzzle his neck ever so often, and purr whenever Blaine's idly roaming hand found a particularly sensitive spot. And then it began, the random shifting, and finger nail biting until Blaine had no choice but to reach over and gently smack his hand away before he damaged his cuticles.
"What's wrong sweetheart?" he asked, careful to keep his tone only mildly curious.
"Nothing," Kurt said.
Blaine didn't press him. There was more than one ways to peel an orange after all. He let him be until the show reached a next commercial before saying idly, "You had a big lunch hmm? All of yesterday's leftovers are still there."
They tended to cook two days worth of food at a time during the week. It helped lesson the work load per day, and it gave them a chance to bond and chat while micromanaging a stove full of pots.
"I did," Kurt said softly. "There was a lunch meeting I had to sit in on. They served sushi and you know how that fills me up."
Blaine chuckled at that. "It sure does." It never failed to amuse him how Kurt could go through a gallon of ice-cream if the opportunity presented itself, but could barely finish an entire sushi roll alone.
Kurt did not speak further, and so Blaine refocused on the television, while remaining alert as Kurt's tenseness had not dissipated. Gradually he felt it, a shaking against his side that could not be attributed to Kurt jostling his foot restlessly. Startled, Blaine turned towards him to find Kurt's brows drawn and his breath, though near silent, hitching ever so often.
"Kurt?" he said in alarm, trying to turn him to face him. He refused, shaking his head roughly as he abruptly pulled his legs up so he could curl in on himself. His prickly little hedgehog, Blaine thought sadly before he pulled his body against him, holding his balled form as close as was physically possible. How long they stayed like that, Blaine didn't know. He rocked them back and forth, humming lightly, wondering just what was wrong with his fiancé, and how he could make it all better.
Eventually Kurt calmed enough that he unfurled slightly, enough that Blaine could see the tear tracks running down his face. He looked so small and vulnerable at that moment that it tore at Blaine's heart.
"Tell me what's wrong," he pleaded. "I can't help you if you don't."
"You'll be mad," Kurt whispered, reaching out to grasp at Blaine's shirt.
"I may be," Blaine agreed, "but I will love you regardless. Now tell me so that we can fix this, whatever it is."
Kurt nipped at his lip, processing that for a moment before nodding. "I lied to you," he finally said in a tone that was almost broken.
"About?" he replied carefully, keeping his tone neutral. It wouldn't do to upset him more than he already was, especially now that he was willing to talk.
"I didn't eat lunch."
To an outsider that would have been a minor issue, but at that moment a pool of dread settled in Blaine's stomach. Kurt had picked up a few eccentric habits upon reaching New York, and this was the worst of them. Sometimes, Kurt simply avoided eating, deeming it unimportant. It wasn't an issue of vanity. He had long since overcome the psychological warfare Coach Sylvester had inflicted upon it. More than that, a last growth spurt had shot him up a few inches, and he had filled out nicely. He would forever retain a dance-like lithe to his figure, but he was, and would always be gorgeous.
Blaine barely restrained a shudder as he recalled the aftermath of Finn's death. Overcoming that had been the hardest test on their relationship so far, and they were still, and probably for a while yet, be dealing with it. And yet, it wasn't good for him to jump to conclusions, especially when he was not sure about the scope of the issue.
"I'll need you to explain further sweetheart," he bid.
Kurt though, needed almost a minute before he could obey. "I…last night. Remember you saw my lunch bowl in the fridge?"
"Yes," Blaine answered, deciding to play along with it for now. As long as he got his answers, he would allow Kurt to express himself in whatever way he felt best. "You told me you felt for a salad instead and had that for lunch."
"I didn't feel for a salad," Kurt admitted. "I just didn't eat, but I felt bad for wasting food so I brought it back home."
"Why?"
"I had an article to finish editing. It wasn't worth stopping for lunch."
"So that was your lie?" Blaine asked, seeking clarification.
"Not the only one sir," Kurt told him. Blaine carefully noted the title that had slipped passed his fiancé's lips, but made no comment on it. If it gave him the strength to continue, he would not protest against it. "You ate all of the leftovers last night. I lied when I told you I had already eaten my share."
"And as you had portioned it away, I would not be able to tell the difference."
"Yes sir." Anticipating his question, Kurt continued. "I wanted to work on my Paper for Theatre II."
"And did you have breakfast yesterday?" Blaine inquired picking up on the pattern. He always left before him on a Thursday due to an earlier class.
"No. I figured that I would just grab something on the go. I didn't."
"And today?" he inquired, resigned to the inevitable.
A broken sob escaped Kurt at that, leading Blaine to pull him back into his embrace for a few minutes more, giving him the strength to finish his admission.
"I didn't eat today either. I didn't eat that sandwich you gave me. I worked through lunch again, and I went to bed as soon as I got home."
Blaine allowed him to fall silent then, using the time while Kurt cuddled into him to think. The last time his love had eaten was Wednesday at dinner. That would explain why he went to bed early today. He was running on empty. His weird behaviour though, could not be fully attributed to that. It had started much earlier. Blaine was convinced that his fast had a bit more to do than a hectic schedule, but that was not important right now, he decided. The most important thing for him to accomplish now was getting some sort of nutrition into his Kurt.
Decision made, he gently disengaged himself from Kurt and stood up. He looked down at him for a long moment, until game plan made, he reached down, grasping his shoulders firmly. He bent, kissing the top of his head tenderly for a moment before urging him to his feet.
"I love you," he told him firmly. "We will get through this as we always do. Okay Kurt? I love you."
"I love you too Blaine," Kurt replied sincerely.
Blaine pulled Kurt into him for one long moment, whispering sweet endearments into his ear before he released him, indicating where he wanted him. Kurt obediently walked to the empty corner of the living room, whining softly though when Blaine brought over one of their wooden handled arm chairs to him. Blaine chose to ignore the sound. They both knew what the chair meant – Kurt would be there for a while. Blaine positioned the chair as pleased him before pointing down. Kurt sat, albeit reluctantly as Blaine, in a show of strength, spun both Kurt and the chair around until it faced the wall.
"You know the rules, sweetheart," he reminded him softly, leaving him with a last kiss on top of his head.
Blaine rarely left him in the corner for more than a few minutes at a time. He usually never needed more than ten or fifteen minutes of introspection to reflect on whatever had led him to be in the corner in the first place. Blaine, however, needed him occupied while he made him a bland, yet filling dinner.
It took him about twenty minutes to have a pot bubbling away on the stove, and then, certain that it would not boil over before his return, he went about his other plans. Silently, he walked into the living room. Reassured that Kurt was indeed obeying him, he moved to their bedroom. They really had not acquired many implements – they preferred the more natural approach. Time though had taught them that many household items could be quite versatile. Besides, what he was doing was more token than anything; he was not doing anything more than simply making a point.
With that in mind, Blaine settled for looping three scarves around his neck as he returned to the kitchen. Finishing off the porridge with a bit of cinnamon for added flavour, he ladled out a reasonable bowlful. As he waited for it to cool sufficiently, he poured out a glass of juice, before adding a small bottle of water to the tray he was assembling. Tapping his chin thoughtfully, he added a straw to the mix, put the porridge on it, before carrying the entire thing out to where his future husband was. Temporarily putting it aside, he pulled a foot stool so that he could be comfortable for the remainder of his plan.
He stood behind Kurt for a minute, mostly to give himself a minute to anchor his thoughts before he reached around the chair, hugging both it and Kurt.
"And how are we feeling?" he questioned softly, resting his chin on top of his head.
"That I shouldn't have lied to you," Kurt whispered sorrowfully.
"And?" he pressed.
"That I should have told you I wasn't eating."
That would do for now, Blaine decided. It would take more than twenty minutes of quiet reflection (Kurt despised the term 'corner time') for him to admit that not eating was his main transgression. And so, Blaine released and spun the chair around, barely restraining a sigh at Kurt's look of misery. What he really wanted to do right about now was to pull him into his arms for a good cuddle. But there would be time for that later, he supposed, when they had gotten past this. For now though, he needed to continue to be firm.
"Hands please," he bid gently.
Kurt misunderstood him, holding them up to him. Blaine took them, kissing each one tenderly in a show of affection before he guided them to the respective chair arms. Kurt remained passive as he looped a scarf around one, then the other hand, tying him firmly, and securely to the chair. Blaine paused then, fingering the third one around his neck thoughtfully, as he eyed Kurt's throat. He ultimately decided against it. He would not deny him full movement this time. It wasn't as if they were playing one of their games after all.
Decision made, he leaned back, taking in Kurt's expression. Other than the fingers drumming steadily against the wooden handles, he seemed calm, if slightly interested in what Blaine was trying to accomplish. He would understand shortly, Blaine thought, fetching the tray before sitting on the footstool in front of him.
"Sir?" Kurt said softly then, eyeing the contents of it with some trepidation.
"No words for now sweetheart," Blaine responded as he dipped a spoon into the creamy liquid. "Open up," he added, as the spoon hovered before Kurt's lips.
Kurt's eyes moved back and forth between Blaine and the spoon, before slowly, almost reluctantly, he parted his lips, allowing it entry. He swallowed slowly, his first bite in two days.
"Good boy," Blaine whispered, and with it, the damn broke. Almost immediately after the words past his lips did the tears start trailing down Kurt's cheeks.
Blaine chose not to openly acknowledge them, instead offering him bite after bite, pausing ever so often to give him sips of water or orange juice. He kept up his reassuring murmurs, urging Kurt on until half way through the bowl, Kurt became overwhelmed. He ducked his head, and the first of many sobs started escaping him. Blaine would not allow it though. As much as it hurt him to do it, it was important that he completely break down Kurt's barriers. And so, Blaine lifted his chin with a hand, forcing him to meet his gaze, even through his tears. That caused his crying to increase. Blaine knew why. Kurt hated for his vulnerability to show. In their teenage years he had hid it behind witty and catty remarks. Breaking down his layers had not been an easy task.
Even after their first few months of being intimate, Blaine, despite his horny teenage state, had been well aware of the fact that Kurt had kept his guard up. Blaine was only allowed to have him in positions that allowed Kurt to hide his face, to bury his head into pillows or to bite on sheets to muffle the few cries of pleasure Blaine managed to wrangle out of him. One of the first things Blaine had done once they had begun their new lifestyle was to tie him face up on the bed and send him wild, ignoring his whimpers and pleas and attempts to turn away as he reached the height of his pleasure. Now, so much later, Kurt was considerably better at letting Blaine seeing him in his truest, most vulnerable form, but now, with tears flowing and the shame of his actions attacking him, Kurt would relish the opportunity to curl up into himself entirely if given the opportunity. And Blaine was determined to ensure that he would not receive that luxury.
Swamped with tears, Kurt's eyes pleaded with him, but Blaine refused, doing nothing except dabbing at the rapidly flowing tears until Kurt had regained some of his composure. Blaine wisely chose not to comment on his breakdown, and only lifted the spoon to his lips again. Kurt ate docilely and consistently after that, only protesting once that he was full. Blaine pushed him a little further past that point before relenting, knowing that he had to bring him close to a regular food portion to stave off problems later on. And then, wisely, he turned Kurt back to the wall before heading back to the kitchen, giving them both a few minutes to regroup before they moved on to the next part of it.
oOoOoOoOo
Neither of them chose to speak for a long while. After ten more minutes, Blaine had once again turned Kurt around, examining his closely. Satisfied with what he could discern from Kurt's gaze, he had released him, kissing and massaging each wrist tenderly before, with a hand to the small of his back, leading him to their bedroom. Blaine was content to just lay there, spooned around Kurt while his hand rubbed gentle circles on his stomach, offering comfort. He knew without asking that Kurt had to be experiencing some level of discomfort, and he was doing his best to help ease him through it. Kurt said nothing, did nothing except to shift occasionally when Blaine's hands roamed a little too far outside of the range he was comfortable with at the moment. His silence did not worry Blaine though, for Kurt was lax against him. For the first time in days, his fiancé was at peace, and he would not do anything to jar him out of that state.
Eventually though, Kurt twisted in his arms until they were facing each other. Slightly amused, Blaine allowed Kurt to tug and pull at him until he had him as he wanted, on his back with Kurt's head against his chest. Taking his cue, Blaine switched his attentive caress to his back, quietly noting the abstract patterns Kurt was tracing on his body. He was working up to saying something, Blaine thought fondly, bending to kiss his head.
Just when Blaine was ready to give him a gentle nudge in the right direction, Kurt spoke, his voice soft and tentative. "Are you going to punish me?" he all but whispered.
"No," Blaine answered immediately. "We talked about this the last time, remember? We agreed that it wasn't right to punish you for something that is, to a certain extent, beyond your control. You need help Kurt, not a reminder about the rules we agreed to follow."
"But still," Kurt rebutted, lifting up slightly so that he could meet Blaine's warm hazel gaze. "I spanked you after you recovered from your stomach flu last winter."
"You spanked me because I refused to take my medication as I should have been doing. The only reason I hadn't was because I didn't like the taste and the way they made me drowsy. Remember?"
"Of course I do," Kurt said gruffly, a shadow of annoyance colouring his tone.
Blaine knew that he was far from the best patient in the world. And looking back, even he could admit he had been a bit too ridiculous about the situation. He had rightfully deserved it when, the day he was fully back on his feet, Kurt had bent him over his knee and given him quite a good reason to be cooperative the next time he was ill. It was the beauty of their relationship, Blaine briefly acknowledged. They were not fixed in a dominant or submissive role. They switched, alternating as suited their needs. There were many times when Blaine himself had found himself biting his lip as Kurt's aggravation washed over him, or else had writhed in pleasure, helpless to defend himself against Kurt's whims. Whenever one of them needed reeling in, the other took over, restoring the equilibrium within their partner.
"And I guess," Kurt allowed, "it isn't the same thing."
"Exactly Kurt," Blaine praised. "I was stubborn, you just have an odd relationship with food sometimes," he finished, re-wording the term 'psychological issue'. Even now, having received five months worth of therapy, Kurt still hated having anything to do with psychologists or the field. "I'm not going to punish you for that. You'll be on constant supervision this entire weekend, and we're going to work out a game plan for the foreseeable future until I can trust you to be eating as you should, but I'm not going to punish you for this."
Kurt dropped his head back down, undoubtedly processing Blaine's words. "But the lying?" he inquired after a minute or two of more absentminded tracing.
"Are you trying to provoke me?" Blaine joked lightly. "I can stick you back in the corner for half an hour if it's what you're looking for."
"No!" Kurt half-yelled, Blaine dissolving into laughter as a result. "I'm fine. Forget I mentioned anything."
"That's what I thought," Blaine agreed, glad that his mostly empty threat had easily resolved the situation. "Now how about I go draw us up a nice hot bath, hmm? I think we could both use the relaxation."
"Only if you use a bath bomb."
"Of course Kurt, anything you want."
