Title: I Can't
Author: Amaranti
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Sebastian/Blaine
Warnings: Well. Angsty/fluffy softcore domestic D/s with dom!Blaine/sub!Sebastian. Blindfold, vibrator, bareback, humiliation, talking on the phone during it, um, I'm not really good at deciding what should be warned for and what shouldn't.
Summary: Sebastian is a State's Attorney, and he is really tired of no one treating him like a human being. Blaine, his husband, is more than happy to help him. Written for the Seblaine Biweekly Challenge.
"I can't." Sebastian thrashes his head, a bead of sweat running down his forehead, stopping at the edge of the blindfold. Blaine is moving inside him leisurely, almost absent-mindedly, like he doesn't actually care about Sebastian lying on his back, legs spread for Blaine. The thought makes Sebastian's cock twitch in the tight, torturous ring of Blaine's fingers. "Fuck, Blaine, I can't…"
"Can't what?" Blaine sounds mildly annoyed and bored, and Sebastian feels a flash of anger and humiliation flare up in his stomach, his fingers curling into a fist.
But it feels fucking glorious, too.
Sebastian isn't allowed to let the words 'I can't' slip out of his mouth as a State's Attorney, because too many are waiting for the chance to destroy him if he makes the smallest mistake.
"Not enough." Sebastian whimpers. He can't recognize his own voice, desperate and whining. "I can't come like this. It's too slow."
Blaine laughs, sharp and short, his hold on Sebastian's cock tightening, painful and so good.
He laughs at Sebastian.
Nobody laughs at Sebastian; too many young attorneys' career ended with them crying in the restroom after Sebastian informed them that the only job they will have in the future is being a barista, only because of raising a skeptical eyebrow or staring at Blaine's ass when he visited Sebastian at work.
(It's not that Sebastian doesn't feel smug when others salivate over the lovely ass that belongs to him. It's just that he demands respect from his minions even more.)
"Aw, that's too bad. Maybe you don't deserve more, you ever thought about that possibility?" Blaine singsongs, his tone mocking, and for the first time in his life Sebastian wonders if this is how his underlings feel when he gives them a pleasant smile before firing them. The shame burning brighter than anything since high school, and something even worse; a heavy thing in his chest, the knowledge that Blaine is right.
Sebastian doesn't deserve him.
He didn't deserve the boy he used and betrayed to try to win that stupid, looking back completely meaningless show choir competition, the boy he almost blinded.
And he deserves even less the man Blaine is now; always there for Sebastian, taking care of him, making him laugh when a horrible day at work forces the corners of his lips to curl down.
He knows Blaine doesn't mean it like this.
Blaine would be so mad at him if he knew about the thoughts wreaking havoc inside him.
He feels his eyes become misty. He's so grateful for the blindfold.
"I don't deserve more," Sebastian agrees, his voice soft and defeated, hands blindly trying to find Blaine's arms, shoulders, anything. Blaine grabs his wrists – letting go of his cock, damn –, fingernails digging into his skin, forcing them down against the blankets. He has to lean forward, the angle of his cock inside Sebastian changing, the head pushing right against his prostate. Sebastian cries out, his come spilling onto his stomach, wet and warm. He feels overwhelmed in too many ways to count as Blaine kisses his groans away, fucks Sebastian's mouth through his orgasm. The shaking of Blaine's fingers curled around Sebastian's wrists betrays his own pleasure.
"Not enough?" Blaine coos, but his voice is rough and shaky in that familiar way Sebastian knows means he is close too. "What do you think they would think, if they saw you like this, writhing under me, whining for more…" A pathetic whimper falls from Sebastian's lips, his oversensitive ass clenching helplessly. He hears Blaine gasp for air above him, feels him press Sebastian's wrists into the mattress as he rides out his orgasm. Sebastian's thighs shake with the effort to stay open for Blaine, the feeling of Blaine balls deep inside him too much for him after Blaine teasing him for so long.
Blaine lets go of his hands, his softening cock slipping out of Sebastian's ass, and Sebastian feels the back of his hand against his cheek. Suddenly he feels a gentle, warm calm wash over him, his heartbeat slowing down to its normal rhythm, and he leans into the touch, lips tugged into a little smile as he feels Blaine's lips press a soft kiss against his forehead.
"I love you," Sebastian tells him as Blaine fumbles with the knot of the blindfold. He screws his eyes shut at the sudden light of the lamp on the bedside table, a small stab of pain in his head.
"Me too," Blaine's grin is filled with more than a decade of unchanging love, still as strong as the moment he stood in front of Sebastian in his wedding suit.
Sebastian feels dirty, his stomach coated in his own semen and Blaine's come slowly trickling down his inner thigh, but he doesn't rush to take a shower. His head falls against Blaine's chest, cheek pressed against Blaine's sweat-slicked skin, Blaine's arms hugging his shoulders.
Maybe sometimes Sebastian thinks that he doesn't deserve Blaine, but Blaine would disagree with him, and in the end that is what matters.
It took Sebastian months, finally admitting his fantasies to his husband of almost ten years, to the person he shouldn't have to hide anything from.
Almost half a year of avoiding having sex with Blaine on most evenings, instead coming up with excuses – I'm tired, work was the worst today or I'm not horny, sorry, baby –, and jerking off in the shower, imagining Blaine visiting him at work and bending him over his table, pushing three fingers into Sebastian's mouth to silence him, reminding Sebastian that only a thin wall is separating them from his secretary. Blaine ordering him to get on his knees, making Sebastian choke on his dick, not stopping even when Sebastian's eyes water, smirking down at Sebastian and mocking him; You can take it, right? Don't tell me you can't, babe.
He slipped into their bed after that, legs still shaking a little because of the images lingering in his mind, and he always remained silent. Blaine gave him his goodnight kiss before turning the lamp on their bedside table off, sometimes asking Sebastian if there is anything wrong, eyes roaming over Sebastian's face, concerned and unsure.
Sebastian just shook his head and Blaine didn't try to force anything out of him, just snuggled closer to his husband in the darkness. Sebastian listened to his light snoring for what felt like hours, in the end always convincing himself that he already has so much more than what he actually deserves.
Their marriage couldn't be more perfect, really, even with the occasional quarrels they have.
But in reality Blaine is not the kind of lover he is in those fantasies.
Sebastian used to think he isn't into such things either. He used to be proud of being in control even with his wrists tied to the headboard and Blaine's dick up his ass, used to feel so smug when Blaine would end up begging Sebastian to ride him harder.
When Blaine laid his head on Sebastian's stomach after their orgasms and started to praise Sebastian in that enthusiastic, happy tone, talking about his magnificent cock and how good it felt being stretched around it, and how Sebastian can always make him forget his own name, it used to make Sebastian feel like he is on the top of the world.
But then, slowly but surely, it started to become quite annoying.
It sounds fucking ridiculous, but he started to feel glad when Blaine rolled his eyes at him for accidentally grabbing a spoon to eat his spaghetti with, or complained when Sebastian arrived two hours late for their date.
His high school self would have never expected the grown-up Sebastian Smythe to get sick of nobody daring to tell him that Sir, this is wrong or Sir, I don't think this is a fair thing to do.
Sebastian ached for someone to mock him and humiliate him and tell him how worthless he is, how he can't do something. He wanted to be used, he wanted to be helpless, he wanted to lose control. Sometimes, if only for an hour or two, he wanted to throw away all the responsibility and expectations that came with being a State's Attorney.
But Sebastian knew that if he told his husband anything, and Blaine wouldn't agree it would end with Sebastian feeling utterly humiliated and Blaine starting to think he isn't enough for his husband, starting to wonder whether Sebastian is cheating on him, visiting a fancy BDSM club specifically for politicians and CEOs who are getting tired of everyone always obeying them. It could ruin their sex lives; it could ruin everything they have. Sebastian loved Blaine too much to let anything destroy his marriage.
But Blaine noticed the changes, noticed the lack of, well, sex and honest smiles, and started to get suspicious even without Sebastian admitting his newfound fantasies.
"Listen, Sebastian, I know your job is really stressful and everything," Blaine started one morning as he poured himself a glass of orange juice. Sebastian refused to look up from his scrambled eggs. No, you don't, Sebastian thought. You're an actor in a cozy theater where everyone truly adores you. "And I'm trying my best to make you feel better." This was absolutely true. Whether listening to Sebastian complaining about his work while giving him a shoulder massage in the bathtub or cooking Sebastian's favorite food and smiling at Sebastian in a way that made Sebastian feel like he can overcome anything as long as Blaine is there with him. "But I feel like you are… avoiding me. I feel like there is a distance between us, and I have no idea where it came from, and if I want to be honest, well, I hate it and I'm getting a little scared. What is going on? I don't want to lose you, Sebastian."
"You wouldn't like it," Sebastian snapped, almost childishly. He looked up just in time to see Blaine's eyes widen in fear. Sebastian cursed himself for being so stupid, because there was nothing he could have said that would have made Blaine feel more insecure than that. "Blaine, I'm not cheating on you. I still love you. It's nothing, okay?"
"It is something," Blaine glared at him, standing up and putting his still half filled glass down the counter. "Unless you, I don't know, murdered someone, I can't imagine anything that could make me love you any less."
He gave Sebastian a smile so sweet, so warm, so full of adoration that Sebastian felt like he would do anything for him.
And so he told Blaine – not being able to look Blaine in the eye, instead staring at the leg of the table – every little detail of his fantasies, that he wants Blaine to tease him for hours and not let him come, he wants Blaine to slap him for coming too soon, and make him cry from too much pleasure, all his shameful, filthy secrets poured out of him, and when it was finally over he was breathing hard, his erection straining painfully against his underwear.
"Oh," Blaine told him, and Sebastian closed his eyes, wondering if it would have been better if Blaine continued to think his husband is cheating on him. "But you… You're Sebastian Smythe, you… Everything about you screams 'I'm allergic to not being in control'. I thought you…"
"Never mind," Sebastian interrupted him, opening his eyes and finally looking at his husband. Blaine was staring back at him, looking disoriented, like he was waiting for Sebastian to laugh loudly and tell him he is just kidding. "It's okay. I understand that you, well, don't get it. I'm sorry. Let's just forget about it."
"No, don't apologize," Blaine shook his head. "There's nothing to apologize for. It's just… Wow. I wasn't expecting this. Um. Maybe we can try it. It's not like we don't try new kinks all the time." Blaine nodded, pressing his fingers to his lips thoughtfully, and after a short pause he continued, with a lot more conviction this time. "You want to be the sub, right? I think it would be pretty cool, actually, well, seeing that side of you, or something like that. I, um, I don't know much, but I guess you just have to tell me what you want me to do to you. Just don't expect me to put you into those full body spandex suits. And I don't think we have enough room for a St. Andrew's Cross."
Sebastian didn't remember ever being so relieved.
"I'm home," Sebastian shouts as he closes the door, putting his briefcase down. The lights in the kitchen are on and the smell of chocolate and strawberry is everywhere, making Sebastian smile. He loosens his tie as he runs into the kitchen, hugging Blaine from behind, inhaling the sweet scent of his shampoo as he nuzzles his curls, anticipation tightening his stomach as he thinks about the text that made him stumble over his orders to his secretary.
"Clothes off," Blaine tells him, not even glancing up from slicing the strawberries. Usually he greets Sebastian with a kiss and asks about his day with a warm smile. But this is different. "On the couch. Wait for me there."
Sebastian obeys, climbing onto the couch. He prepared himself at work, just as Blaine told him in the text, and he shifts awkwardly, not wanting the lube to smear the couch. Blaine would scold him so much for it.
So maybe it wouldn't be too bad if he got the fabric just a bit messy…
His fingers grip his knees tight, fighting the urge to sneak a hand to his ass and push his fingers in, while Blaine is too busy in the kitchen to notice it. He feels empty with his hole so open and ready, but he knows he isn't allowed to touch himself.
Sebastian glances down at his clothes, desperate to find something that can distract him from the ache. He thinks about Blaine once talking about how Sebastian was made to wear suits with his height and his square shoulders, and grabbing his tie to pull him down for a kiss is the best thing ever, and how Sebastian just looks so sexy and powerful in his suits.
Blaine's phone rings suddenly. Sebastian sighs, hoping it's not Kurt. If it is Blaine won't end the call for hours.
"Ooh, hey, Kurt." Sebastian can hear the grin in Blaine's voice. "Huh? Oh, no, I'm not doing anything important. Just making sweets for tomorrow, to celebrate the hundredth performance. You're coming too, right?"
Sebastian rests the back of his head against the couch, closing his eyes in bliss. God, it's stupid but it feels so good, to hear Blaine talk about him like he isn't important. A State's Attorney is never something secondary. You can't just ignore the State's Attorney.
He wonders what he would have become without Blaine there to remind him that he isn't any better than Blaine himself or anyone else, he wonders what kind of a megalomaniac sociopath he would have turned into without Blaine in the sea of ass-kissers at work.
Blaine, who knows his every flaw, and still loves him so much more than anyone else.
"Yes, yes." Blaine's voice sounds closer and Sebastian opens his eyes, blinking up at Blaine. "Wow, really?" Blaine laughs and leans down, taking Sebastian's nipple between two fingers and twisting hard, his lips curling up in a devious grin. Sebastian bites into his lip at the pleasure-pain, a barely audible whimper escaping his mouth. If Kurt heard it he doesn't say anything, because Blaine continues. "Finn wanted to eat what?"
If only the people at work knew how their mighty State's Attorney spends his Thursday evening; naked on the couch with his ass ready and waiting to be fucked, stomach clenching as his husband touches his skin with ticklish little caresses while talking on the phone with his best friend about what his step-brother wanted to eat.
It's so absurd. There is no other word for it. They would be the creepy couple with the strange sex life everybody laughs at in sitcoms.
But it works for them. And that's the only thing that matters.
Blaine leans back, glancing down at Sebastian's hard dick with a satisfied smirk, and motions for Sebastian to open his thighs.
Blaine takes the phone into his other hand and his fingers slip into Sebastian, twisting around, making Sebastian squirm on them. Too soon Blaine pulls his fingers out silently – Kurt can talk for hours if nobody is there to interrupt him –, and wipes them on Sebastian's pants.
Not on his pajama pants, not on his sweatpants, not on his jeans.
On his State's Attorney dress pants.
It's almost sacrilege, and it makes Sebastian gasp quietly, glancing away guiltily when Blaine glares at him and points at his phone.
Blaine disappears, but he quickly comes back with a strawberry. He pushes it between Sebastian's obediently opened lips, the sweet juice of the fruit and the slightly bitter taste of the chocolate coating the tip forcing another quiet moan from Sebastian's throat. Blaine gently slaps the corner of his lips.
He leaves again, but at least now Sebastian can focus on the strawberry, instead of the way his hole clenches desperately around nothing as he remembers the shiver that run down his spine when Blaine twisted his nipple or the feeling of Blaine's fingertips on his stomach.
Blaine comes back again, this time with a small vibrator. Sebastian's eyes widen in worry even as he opens his legs wider and braces his feet on the edge of the couch. The vibrator is silent, but Sebastian isn't sure he will be able to keep quiet.
But he doesn't protest. His hands sneak down – he almost expects Blaine to slap them away, but Blaine just smiles encouragingly – and he spreads himself open, toes curling against the couch in anticipation as Blaine presses the head of the toy inside. He fills Sebastian with careful but steady hands, and Sebastian is torn between being relieved the ache of being empty is finally gone and feeling uncomfortable because Blaine is fucking talking on the phone with Kurt.
He nods, raising one hand to press against his lips just when Blaine presses a button. It's the third setting – they use it a lot, it's their favorite toy –, which, Sebastian guesses, is pretty kind of Blaine. The highest setting would have made Sebastian black out, probably. The vibrations pulse through his muscles, making him start panting against his hand. Blaine shifts the toy and suddenly it's right against Sebastian's prostate, making his hips move uselessly, wanting to squirm away from the blinding pleasure and chasing for more at the same time.
"So there's Antique Fuchsia and, well, normal Fuchsia, and Finn didn't know the difference and you got mad at him?" Sebastian blinks, for a moment distracted by Blaine's words. Blaine must have noticed it because his hand finds its way between Sebastian's thighs again. He pushes another button – fifth setting, fuck, and Sebastian kicks the air with his leg at the pleasure rolling through his body, his moans muffled by his hand. They are still loud enough that Blaine can hear them, and he slaps Sebastian again, this time harder, making the skin sting after his touch.
"Ah, you didn't get mad at him for not knowing the difference, but for not asking you to explain the difference. Yeah, well, Finn can…" Blaine's words peter out as Sebastian gives up trying to ignore the toy inside him, instead grabbing the handle and starting to pump the vibrator into his body, his other hand still pressed against his mouth. Blaine stares at him fucking himself down on the toy, mouth opening in a silent 'o'. "I have to go now, Kurt." Blaine swallows, his fingers curling around Sebastian's wrist and halting his movements. "No, nothing is wrong. See you tomorrow."
Blaine turns the vibrator off, and Sebastian lowers his hand, licking his lips. The toy is still inside him, filling him, but it's nothing compared to how it felt when it was on. He waits patiently for Blaine to decide what he wants to do next, knowing whatever his husband chooses, Sebastian will be absolutely wrecked when Blaine is done with him.
"You don't think you are allowed to come without me, do you?" Blaine grins, superior and cold but he is still Sebastian's Blaine, the man who jumped into his arms and covered his face with joyous kisses after Sebastian said yes. The man who knows what Sebastian wants, what he needs, and is more than happy to take care of his husband in every way. "You can't."