Kurt POV:

Bondage is not as fun as Fifty Shades of Gray made it sound. It wasn't that I minded the leather or the straps. I was just really regretting the addition of the collar. It made it really tough to breathe and that wasn't very productive to dancing. The collar was the first thing to go when I got back to my dressing room. I was rubbing my neck when Sebastian walked in without knocking.

"Sebastian!" I exclaimed, glaring at him in the mirror, "I could have been changing."

"Please, it isn't like you didn't know I was going to be here." He said with an eye roll. It was true. He always came on Saturday nights, Fridays too if he had time. Sometimes he would even surprise me on a Sunday.

"Well, it is still rude." I complained turning to face him and leaning back against my dressing table. He pouted.

"What is really rude is how hot you looked tonight." Was his response. He walked into my personal space and placed a hand on each of my hips. I looked at him calmly. Once you've given a guy a lap dance, it would be stupid to be shy about physical contact.

"So I take it you liked the show then?" I asked coyly. I reached up behind my head to untie my mask and put it on the table top behind me.

"Might be my favorite one yet. They should let you do slower songs more often. Super sexy." He purred right into my ear. His breath on my neck gave me goose bumps.

"We going for food tonight?" I asked, shifting him away a bit.

"Well, I was all set to hit up our favorite Taco Bell as usual until the guy running the bar told me something very interesting." I squinted at him.

"Should I be jealous?" I teased, knowing that Allen was not Sebastian's type. He laughed and squeezed my hips.

"Not into Bears, babe. But this Bear did tell me that it happens to be my favorite Twink's birthday today." I huffed.

"Allen has a big mouth." I complained.

He wasn't supposed to find out it was my birthday because I didn't want him to treat me special or act different or anything out of obligation. All day I'd been dealing with phone calls from people who I hadn't seen for months wanting to catch up in one conversation. Isabelle's wishes and designer gift were nice, so was the phone call from Carole and Dad. Santana sent a text, which I appreciated since it was very much in vein with how our friendship worked. I had deleted the voice mail from Blaine. Why don't you call me on a day that isn't an obligation? Maybe I'd become jaded in my old age.

"I can't believe you would keep this from me, Kurt!" Sebastian complained.

"I just don't like to make a big deal out of it." I said with a shrug.

"Well too bad. We are going out tonight. I'm taking you to a dance club where you can dance with a person instead of a pole and we can get really drunk and make bad decisions." I sighed. There was no saying no to Sebastian once he had his mind set on something. I tried futilely to make an excuse anyway.

"I don't have any club clothes with me." He backed up to look at me. I was wearing leather pants with cut-outs up the sides and a strappy leather harness across my chest.

"Lose the straps." He ordered backing up. I once again let out a resigned huff and set to work on the buckles.

When I dropped the contraption on the chair and looked up, Sebastian was shirtless. He was holding in one hand the red silk button-up he had been wearing today and in the other what appeared to be a black wife-beater. He held the second one out to me. I took it cautiously, realizing with a jolt that he'd been wearing it underneath his shirt. It was warm with his sweat when I tugged it on, thankful that he was focused on replacing his own shirt so that he missed my blush. When he finished he gave me a once over and nodded to my bare feet. I always danced barefoot, since I wasn't allowed my ballet flats. Apparently, ballet isn't sexy. I disagree. I walked over to my closet and pulled out some black boots. I put them on and raised an eyebrow.

"Do I meet the Sebastian School of Dance Club Fashion's approval?" He hummed and stroked his chin in thought.

"Almost. You're missing one last thing."

"And what is that – oh!" I broke of startled as I realized what he had picked up off my dressing table. He slid the collar around my neck and buckled it. It felt heavy, but not constricting like it had during my dance. I wondered if he had tied it differently than I had or if it was some psychological shit that made it less entrapping when he put it there. "I take it you like the collar?" I joked lightly. It hung in the air awkwardly and I coughed. He just stared at me intently, smiling softly, while he rubbed his thumbs over the leather against my neck. I swallowed thickly and I saw his eyes track the motion in my neck. Suddenly bondage was starting to make a little more sense. He was looking at me like I was something fragile he could break if he was too rough with me. Something in me wanted to prove to him that I wouldn't. I placed my hands over his where they rested around my neck. I pressed down. His eyes widened and his pupils dilated against their green background.

"You look good, Hummel." He murmured thickly.

"You're a kinky bastard, Sebastian Smythe." I teased and he barked out a surprised laugh.

"Come on. Let's go." He released my neck and tugged me towards the door with a fistful of his shirt I was wearing. I grabbed my wallet, phone, and my leather jacket and let him pull me out.

The club was dark and the music was a thumping rhythm, the lights dizzying. Everything felt fuzzy and warm. Though, that might have something to do with the beer and two shots I'd had. Sebastian had bought us both enough to get us right on the far edge of buzzed before dragging me out on to the dance floor. It felt so good to just dance. For the past year the only times I danced was for work or for class. Sebastian wasn't an awful partner either. He kept good rhythm and when he pressed his body against mine it felt familiar and safe. He was sweating and his hair was a mess. He looked way too hot to be allowed in public. I was trying to figure out why no one was trying to jump in and steal him from me. I wondered if it was how close we were dancing, or his possessive hand on my waist, or maybe it was the collar I was wearing.

"Having a good birthday, babe?" He asked, his chest pressed to my back and a hand crawling under the front of my shirt. I leaned back into him, reaching up to tangle my hand into his hair.

"Yeah," I admitted, "I'm glad you convinced me to go out and celebrate. It's been so long since I've been able to just go out and have fun."

"You are more than welcome." He responded playfully.

I wondered what my nineteen year old self would have thought about seeing me dirty dancing with Sebastian Smythe while dressed like a cheap trick. How did this happen? I wanted him so badly. I had been forever since I'd last gotten laid and on top of that I trusted Sebastian not to hurt me or use me, which was equally unexpected. He'd seen me break down into tears and been told my life story and he was still sticking around. That had to mean something. As I was pondering this a song came on that made me smile ruefully.

"I can't escape this song!" I exclaimed with a slight groan but I was laughing.

"What do you mean?" He asked swaying our hips to the beat.

"It was my first main show dance number." I answered remembering how nervous I'd been to take on the prime time spot for the first time to the tune of Mr. Saxobeat. I felt his chuckle.

"Gunna show me some of those moves, hot shot?" He asked and I turned to face him, dislodging our hands. I let mine grip the back of his neck instead and his returned to my hips. I grinded up against him, rolling our hips together with the music.

"Not sure that would be entirely appropriate. It was pretty dirty." I informed him with a playful nip at his chin. Thank you liquid courage. He groaned.

"Fuck, Kurt." He breathed out, sliding his hands down to palm at my ass through my pants. I wined into his neck. Wow, I was really horny right now. Why wasn't he kissing me yet? Would anyone care if we started making out in the middle of the dance floor? Probably not. I pressed my mouth to the salty skin of his neck and felt a groan rumble through him. I could feel him swallow when my hand found his hair again. We were still dancing somehow, pressed close enough together to practically occupy the same space. I wanted Sebastian Fucking Smythe and I was going to get him.

"You should take me home." I suggested. One hand squeezed my ass and the other traveled up to tug on the back of my collar. I gasped and leaned back with the tug, looking up at him.

"You asking or telling?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. I licked my lips and watched his eyes drop to follow the movement of my tongue.

"It's my birthday." Even though midnight had probably past over an hour ago or more. Sebastian pulled me impossibly tighter against him.

"Don't need candles and cake. Just need your body to make Birthday sex, birthday sex, birthday sex, birthday sex." He sang in a whisper against my lips. I glared at him and his eyes glinted mischievously.

"I am already regretting this decision." I teased and he pouted at me. He honest to god stuck out his lower lip and pouted at me.

So, naturally, I kissed him.

Then I kissed him again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

I kissed him until I dragged him out of the club, until we'd made it back to his place somehow, until he had me in his bed in nothing but my collar, until we fell asleep cuddling with our sweat cooling on our skin.

Then I kissed him some more in my dreams.