Author's Note:
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There is a Pairing Warning for this chapter. If you don't want to know then just keep reading. If you need to know, scroll down to the very bottom.
The very best to the very best beta. Mwah!
And I am feeling so small
It was over my head, I know nothing at all
And I will stumble and fall
I'm still learning to love, Just starting to crawl
~ A Great Big World
It had been hard enough watching Blaine and Santana dance together like the claimed couple they were. But then she…
The moment she struck him Kurt's stomach had curled up in knots, a wave of possession had washed over him and all he had wanted to do was tear Blaine away from her and that scared him more than anything else.
He couldn't watch it again.
Rachel had tried to explain to him time and time again how Domination was not just an excuse for abuse of power and control of one person by another. She'd tried to explain how the things they did were consensual discipline and not assault. She and Finn both had told him over and over that it was love, but he thought he'd never understand it and he certainly didn't now. Seeing the pain and humiliation on Blaine's face that night, Kurt couldn't get the image out of his mind. He couldn't stop imagining what happened after she dragged him away. How much Blaine had been taught to believe that was what he wanted and needed and how he could never ever give him that, would never even want to. Santana thought his submission was beautiful. Kurt thought it was degrading and he just wished he could have a chance to show Blaine a different way. To show him that he could be cherished and loved without pain and blind obedience.
"See this is why no matter how much you love him it won't work," Rachel was saying as she scooped fruit salad into a bowl for breakfast. Kurt was scowling into his cereal, tired of having this conversation. "I know how much you want to believe that dominance and submission aren't real Kurt, but you know they are. You can be friends, you can even be the best of friends, though he would have to share that role with me of course, but you can never be boyfriends."
Kurt hated that she was right, but he knew that he had to let go. He hadn't heard from Blaine since the claiming. It had only been a few days, filled with family and travel and preparation to return to school, but since they'd met they'd barely gone a day without talking and he'd forgotten what life was like without Blaine in it. He hated every second.
He had to stop thinking about him though. "So how did your holidays in the city with Jesse go?" His brow quirked up with a satisfied smile at her scowl. He refused to be the only one subjected to the third degree and unwanted relationship advice today and turnabout was fair play.
Rachel tried to keep her head held high. "It's too soon. He wants it so badly and I've accepted that it's probably meant to be but it's too soon."
"Okay, putting aside the fact that the last person I want you meant to be with is Jesse St. James, he's been back in your life for 4 months. Why is it too soon?" Kurt asked. "Finn wouldn't want you to be alone."
"I'm not alone," Rachel said firmly. "I have you and there are some very pretty boys in the clubs of New York."
Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes. He'd known it would be hard for her to claim another sub and he'd supported her waiting, but he was worried about her going out to clubs at night and hooking up with random guys. He knew better than anyone that that was a lonely world.
Rachel wouldn't let up though. "You should come with me sometime," she encouraged.
"No thank you." Kurt dismissed the idea outright. "Been there, done that. The gay clubs are all Doms and subs and the Gray clubs are all straight."
"I'm sure that's not true," Rachel frowned, but honestly she had no evidence to the contrary. "You need to have a little fun though. Get your mind off of Blaine."
"I love that you've managed to steer this conversation right back to me."
Rachel wagged her brows with a grin. "I am talented that way." She got up and put her bowl in the sink. He followed and did the same before they both grabbed their bags for NYADA in silence. Just before he opened the door, she spoke quietly without looking at him. "I'm scared to be with Jesse. I'm scared I'll call him Finn or do the things that Finn liked or start crying or worse, take out all my pain on him. You were right Kurt," she said and her sad eyes met his. "If we get together now I'll hurt him."
"You still blame him?" Kurt asked softly.
Rachel sighed. The question would never be an easy one to answer. "It's not right to, I know that. Finn made his choice to go into the army himself. I know in my head that Jesse's not any more to blame for his death than you or Carole."
"But Carole and I won't submit to you. And he will," Kurt said as he came to understand. "You still need someone to blame, and he'll take it if you ask him to."
"Yeah," she said sadly. "He would."
Kurt slid open the door and headed downstairs, Rachel following after him.
No, submission wasn't beautiful at all.
All talk of Jesse was forgotten when Rachel stood in front of the cast list posted on the NYADA Green Room wall, squealing at getting the role of Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing. After hugging Kurt without a second glance, she ran off to brag to the rest of her friends. Alone, Kurt stared at the list, expecting his name to appear where it currently was missing. He hadn't expected to be cast as a lead, he knew there were seniors far more suited to the roles. But he was a musical theater major. He had expected something.
He took the hallway down to the acting studios and checked the offices. The head of the Department wasn't there and he walked around the building looking for her. He finally found her in the black box, walking the stage.
"Excuse me," he interrupted, peaking his head in first then taking a tentative step. She looked up and over at him, her curly white hair a bit frazzled, her worn face gazing at him curiously.
"Yes, Mr. Hummel, can I do something for you?"
"Yeah, I just…" He stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans self-consciously. "I was just wondering why I didn't get cast in the Shakespeare?"
She looked at him pitifully and walked over. "Kurt, I know your voice is magnificent and maybe in a musical that would sometimes get you through but…" She sighed as if she hated breaking the news to him, but Kurt had the feeling it was quite the opposite. "Have you considered switching to just a voice major? Dropping the acting altogether?"
Kurt didn't move. He remembered back to his audition in the auditorium at McKinley. Rachel had sat in the audience while he'd sung Music of the Night and she'd been his biggest champion. But when he asked how Madame Tibideaux had liked it, her lips pursed and he had known. It had taken a second try for him to get in and he had always known the reason. In the back of his mind he had hoped that once he actually got to NYADA he could prove them all wrong. But apparently he was the one who was wrong. "Why?" he asked anyway. If nothing else he wanted her to say the words to his face.
The pity didn't leave her eyes and it made him sick. "Look Kurt, the number of successful Gray actors, I can count on one hand. Most just…" She paused and Kurt knew she was trying to come up with the condescending words that would explain this in a way a defective like him could understand. "Most just don't have the ability to access emotion like the rest of us do. Their range is smaller. It comes off as shallow. Cold. Artificial."
"And I come off that way," he challenged, needing to hear her say it.
She tilted her head in that way that said her apology was anything but sincere. "I'm sorry Kurt. But I don't think you have any chance of making it as an actor."
He bowed his head and nodded slowly. "Fine." He looked back at her and the fire in his eyes defied every word she had just said to him. "Good riddance."
He stormed out of the theater before she could say another word and without a thought he raced up the steps two by two. His stage combat class started in 30 minutes but the room was empty and there was nothing stopping him from starting early. After changing into sweats, he grabbed a foil from the rack and twirled it effortlessly in his fingers, swinging it fast through the air and hitting a perfect stance. He worked through forms, letting his anger fuel his precision and power. He started with an advance/advance-lunge/on guard sequence then moved on to a jump forward-lunge/redouble/on guard. Lost in his own world he worked his lunges and his parries, all the time perfecting his footwork. He'd worked up a significant sweat by the time he heard clapping from the doorway. Startled, he lowered his foil and looked up.
"That was some excellent work Mr. Hummel," his instructor Robert told him, walking into the room to drop his belongings. "There was a lot of power behind those swings. Might I ask who exactly you're attacking?" he asked with a knowing smile.
Breathing heavily, Kurt let out a small chuckle. "If I told you it was a professor would that be a good idea or a bad one?"
"Depends on the professor," Robert smirked, choosing his own foil from the rack and taking a few practice swings. "Why don't you just tell me what they said to get you that heated up?"
Kurt looked away with embarrassment. "Apparently I don't…have what it takes…to be an actor. I was told to drop it."
"Really?" Robert said. "I find that surprising."
Kurt scoffed. "Well, actually, I don't. I've been told all my life I don't have the depth of emotions that Doms and subs do. No one seems to care if it's actually true or not."
"You know what I think?" Robert asked.
"No," Kurt answered.
"I think the acting program's loss is my gain," Robert said.
Kurt looked up at him, stunned. "What?"
"You're one of my best students Kurt," Robert told him. "You have fire, passion, strength. You've come a long way since the first time you walked through that door a year and a half ago. I'd consider myself lucky if you took on a stage combat major."
"Really?" Kurt couldn't help but let a proud smile escape. "Well, thank you."
"I'm just telling the truth Kurt. Especially in these last few months, whatever's going on you seem to be channeling it well in here." Robert looked him up and down then nodded, a decision made. "I'm Fight Director for a show off-Broadway. I could use an assistant. Would you be interested?"
Kurt couldn't believe his ears. "You don't think others will think I'm too weak? As a Gray?"
"If they do it's bullshit. Being a Dom doesn't make me stronger than you Kurt. You're as strong as you want to be. Now do you want the job or not?"
Kurt's mouth gaped and the smile reached his eyes. "Oh my god, yes! That would be amazing."
"Great," Robert said. Other students started filing into the room and they both glanced at the clock. "I'll give you the details after class. I think we're going to have a great time."
Off-Broadway. Kurt had a huge grin on his face walking into the Apples lounge that afternoon, but it fell quickly. All of his choir mates were gathered around, Blaine front and center in the crowd, laughing at something Kurt was sure to not be a part of. He stopped in the doorway.
Watching Blaine laugh was like watching the sun come out in the morning. His eyes shined gold and his cheeks flushed pink and his smile could light up the room.
Submission never came with a smile. It came with tears and downcast eyes and a pout or a frown. Submission dimmed the light inside Blaine that was meant to glow.
This is how it had always been for Kurt, watching from the outside. He'd had dreams in the last few months that all that would change. That though he couldn't have Blaine in all the ways he wanted that their friendship would mean that he didn't have to go through any of this alone anymore. Blaine was different from Rachel and Brittany. He didn't know him from High School, he didn't know everything he'd been through. He was a fresh start for Kurt. The first real friend he had made. But that moment on the dance floor had smacked Kurt right back to the outside and into reality.
Blaine turned and their eyes met. His amber eyes shifted darker quickly, his own smile fading. A wall that had once surrounded them holding them together was now wedged firmly between them. And neither of them could see a way to scale it.
"Hey," Blaine said quietly, giving him a small wave from across the room.
A week ago Kurt would have rushed up to him and told him everything about the amazing opportunity his stage combat professor was giving him. But though he opened his mouth, those words would not come out. Instead he mouthed, "We need to talk."
Blaine walked over to him and they took a seat at the edge of the room. His eyes were downcast, his hands folded in his lap and though Kurt couldn't feel it he knew submission was pouring out of him. His stomach turned.
"You haven't called. Or written," Kurt said quietly.
"Neither have you," Blaine pointed out. He sighed and stared at his fingers. "I've just been doing a lot of thinking."
Kurt nodded. "I've been doing a lot of thinking too," he said.
"And?" Blaine looked up. Kurt's words both scared him and soothed him, because he knew what he had to do. He just didn't have the courage to do it first.
"It's too hard Blaine," Kurt said softly. "Our friendship right now. I want it to be easy, I want it to be just like it was but…seeing you on the dance floor with Santana. Seeing her hurt you. I can't stand it. I've never really been able to deal with even the concept of punishment, but seeing it-"
"It wasn't real Kurt."
"And it made me want to scream," Kurt said. "What about the next time? It will be real then and it will be so much worse, and it makes me sick to even think about it."
Blaine closed his eyes and he stared at the fingers on his lap. Kurt's words burned, hurting more than even the lies had. Now Kurt wasn't denying his own self. Now he was denying the very essence of who Blaine was.
"Please don't blame yourself Blaine, it's my fault, for not being honest with you in the beginning. Maybe after you find a Dom…"
They were interrupted by a brunette sub named Michael calling over to them. "Hey you two, we're going out to Black and White, do you guys wanna come?"
Blaine had always wanted to go to the D/s club but right now he didn't want to move. All he wanted to do was stay and talk to Kurt because this time felt like it could be the last time.
"You should go," Kurt said next to him. Blaine spun around to look at him. Kurt's lips were tight, his words heavy with everything both spoken and unspoken between them. "You'll have fun."
Blaine frowned. "Are you going to-"
"No," Kurt said decisively. "It's where you belong Blaine. Not me."
"Coming?" their friends asked again from the door.
It didn't matter how much Kurt hoped he would say he'd stay. It didn't matter how much he wished that their lives fit together. It didn't matter how much it broke his heart to let Blaine go. This was just one more piece of evidence to prove that he was in over his head. He wasn't what Blaine needed. "Don't worry about me. Go," he whispered.
Whatever way Blaine looked at this, it felt like goodbye. It felt like giving up, giving in. He wished more than anything that Kurt would just tell him to stay, tell him it would be okay, they would figure this out. That it didn't matter what their parents said or Rachel or Brittany or their bodies or the world, they could make it work. But Kurt didn't say any of that and he knew that whatever had been between him and Kurt was over. "Ok," Blaine breathed as he took one last look, the longing between them hanging in the air, and picked up his bag. He turned to his friends and followed them out the door.
Kurt blinked back the tears as Blaine walked out the door and out of his life. He stood up and a hand fell on his shoulder. He turned to see Rachel, offering him a soft smile. "You did the right thing Kurt. I know it's hard, but you know you did."
Kurt didn't know how long she'd been standing there or how much she'd seen or even whether or not he believed her. But he needed a shoulder right now, a friend who knew what it was like to say goodbye to the one person you never wanted to let go. "I miss him already," Kurt said and he fell into her arms.
"I know you do sweetie," Rachel said, resting her head on his chest. Sometimes it was almost like being back in Finn's arms. "I know you do."
Blaine had regretted his decision even though he knew it was the right one the whole way there, but with a deep breath standing outside the booming club with his friends, he made a pact with himself to leave Kurt outside. No thoughts, no images, no wishes or hopes. He would go in, he would find a Dom, and he would do what he needed to do to leave the dreams of a life with Kurt behind.
It was surprisingly easier than he thought it would be. It wasn't just the blaring music and the vigorous display of dancing lights pulsing throughout the club and the obvious smell of alcohol that was unlike anything Blaine had ever experienced before. What really took Blaine's breath away was the overload of submission and Dominance flying throughout the club like winds in a hurricane. It stunned him into a gaping silence and his friends grabbed his hands with a laugh to pull him toward the bouncer at the front of the club.
"ID," the bouncer asked him with an annoyed roll of his eyes.
Blaine startled then looked at him, then reached for his wallet. "Oh yeah, right sorry." He pulled out his ID and gave it to the man who gave it a cursory glance and passed it back. A hand was held out for his left arm and he had two bracelets, a white one for "sub" and a blue one for "under 21", snapped onto his wrist.
"Come on Blaine," his friend Nicolette called with a grin.
He followed her to a high table by the bar and climbed onto one of the stools facing the dance floor. To say he was overwhelmed was an understatement. All around the dance floor men and women, Doms and subs, danced together in a sexual mess of rhythm and gyrations that made Blaine want to both run away and dive in.
"We're gonna go dance," Michael yelled over the music to Blaine. "Are you coming?"
"No, not yet," he yelled back. Part of him wanted to but he also needed a few minutes alone to gain his bearings. This was his first time in a club like this and he needed to know exactly what he was getting himself into before he climbed into a sea of potential danger. When he'd texted Santana for permission she had told him to be careful. So he sat back, letting the music and lights and the brushes of dominance around him soothe his nerves. He'd get the lay of the land, he thought, and then he'd join his friends. For what, he wasn't sure yet, but he was here for a reason. He was here to forget. And to search.
He scanned the room, white bracelets and black bracelets staring out at him. Blondes and brunettes, tall and short, dark and light, men all over, most of whom he didn't know whether they were gay or straight. None of whom caught his eye. Until…
Dark hair, perfectly coiffed, pale skin, with a tall and lean frame, made taller by black platform heels, wrapped perfectly in the tightest of black studded leather. Black circles adorned his ears, and threaded in a belt loop low on his hip was a black riding crop. Blaine's jaw dropped staring at the man across the room. He didn't even realize how much his submission was pulsing but the Dom must have because he immediately turned and met Blaine's gaze from 100 feet away. Dominance struck at Blaine like a whip, as hard eyes pierced his soul and Blaine blushed and looked down immediately, his heart racing and his stomach fluttering with a mix of nerves and excitement.
Blaine saw his boots only seconds before the leather keeper at the tip of the crop touched beneath his chin and raised his head. Blaine looked up at him through his lashes with deference.
The Dom smiled. "Don't be afraid," he said and for some reason his voice put Blaine at ease. "What's your name?"
"Blaine," he answered softly.
"It's nice to meet you Blaine. My name is Elliot. But you can call me Sir," he said. "If you like."
"Yes Sir," Blaine found himself eagerly saying.
Elliot studied him for a minute, tracing up and down the sub's body, cocking his head toward the crowd. "Not up for dancing?" he asked, his voice laced with fond amusement. "Or just looking for the right partner?"
Blaine let his eyes wander back to the bodies writhing on the dance floor and he realized he liked it much better where he was. "Honestly Sir, I had been just trying to decide," he said with a sly smile and a twinkle in his eye as his submission settled into a quiet hum and he slowly came back to himself.
Elliot's crop moved to touch Blaine's cuff. "Is your Dom here?" he asked.
Blaine felt his skin tingling beneath the leather and shook his head. "No Sir."
"Would she be mad if she knew you were here?" Elliot asked with a raised brow.
Blaine's eyes widened with surprise, then narrowed in challenge. "How do you know my Dom is a she?"
Elliot laughed and Blaine couldn't help but think how insanely handsome he was, a beautiful smile on such a hard looking Dom. "Only one reason a pretty boy like you would have a white cuff," he explained, then his smile faded and there was the hardness back again. "Now answer the question. Are you breaking any rules by being here?"
"No Sir," Blaine answered, quickly adding, "I promise."
"Good boy." The words sent a shiver down Blaine's spine. "You ever been with a man before?"
Blaine's eyes shifted and he blushed. Somehow saying no felt like he was betraying Kurt, but saying yes would have been a lie. "Not really Sir," he compromised.
Elliot cocked a curious brow at the answer. "Would you like to be?" he questioned.
Blaine swallowed. His tongue was growing dry and it suddenly felt thick in his mouth. But this was why he was here. "Yes Sir."
Elliot reached a hand out. He threaded his fingers through Blaine's gelled hair, tracing his ear with a finger. The tease of Elliot's skin on his thrilled him. "I would like to be with you Blaine," Elliot said gently. "Would you like to be with me?"
Every nerve in his body was pulsating with submission and desire. His vision was blurry with it, his head light. He was slipping into subspace without even barely a touch. "Yes Sir," he whispered.
Elliot smiled and for a moment Blaine thought he would do anything for that smile. "Good. Go tell your friends we'll be going into room 4, so they'll know where you are and won't worry. Be a good boy and I'll meet you by the door to the back."
Blaine quickly did as he was told, his pulse racing as he explained to his friends where he was going and with whom. Michael congratulated him, offering him a sip of his rum and coke before he went and nervously, Blaine nearly downed the whole thing. Handing it back he glanced to the back door. He wasn't quite sure how a man could look both harsh and amused at the same time but somehow Elliot did, watching him closely with a smirk on his face and the crop in his hand.
Blaine made his way through and around the crowd to the Dom and he bowed his head as he reached the tall man who stared down at him. "I don't recall telling you that you could drink," Elliot said sternly. "Your bracelet says you're under 21."
Blaine bit his lip. "I'm sorry sir," he said with a shudder.
"We'll deal with it inside," Elliot told him, turning to lead the sub into the fourth room on the left.
The room was dark when Elliot opened the door and Blaine followed him inside. As the door closed behind him with a snap, the lights were switched on. Blaine's gaze widened. The room was what Blaine could only describe as a dungeon, though he'd never seen one with his own eyes before. There were numerous surfaces that Blaine recognized as various kinds of spanking benches and swings as well as couches, pillows and wedges throughout the room. On the carpeted floor were pillows as well as kneeling pads and large granite tile hearth sat beneath a stone fireplace. Elliot headed toward a door across the room.
"Make yourself comfortable for me Blaine," Elliot told him as he turned the knob. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
Blaine could only nod as he watched Elliot go. He looked around, his heart pounding. He had no idea what he was doing. He had no idea what Elliot considered comfortable. He didn't know if it was for him to decide or if this was some kind of test to determine if he was a proper enough sub for the Dom. Would he be punished even more if he got it wrong? Would he even want to be? He was already in trouble for drinking and he knew what Santana would have him do for that. But as he contemplated the idea of preparing himself on one of the benches, Blaine decided that he didn't want to encourage that. He could get all the spankings he wanted and then some at home. Punishment wasn't what he came back here for, sex was what he wanted. Sex like he'd imagined with Kurt in the hammock of his backyard.
Shaking thoughts of Kurt from his head, Blaine removed his shirt, folding it on a bench against the wall. He took off his shoes as well. He undid the button and zipper of his pants to give his already aching half-erection more room, but he left his pants on. This was his first time and he wasn't ready to bare it all yet. He glanced around the room, taking it in once more, and he chose a thin red satin pillow to kneel upon. He took his position, hands layered on the small of his back, eyes trained on the floor. And he waited.
He didn't have to wait long. Blaine could hear Elliot emerge from the mysterious room and close the door behind him. Though the footsteps were muffled by the carpeting they echoed in Blaine's ear as if the floor were wood until he could see on the ground below him large black boots. The crop once again reached for his chin and forced his eyes high to meet Elliot's. "Safe word?" Elliot asked.
In the soft light and silence of the room Elliot was even more stunning than he had been in the loud haze of the bar. He was the bite to Kurt's bark and he was the sex to Santana's dominance. His eyes, a gray blue that reminded him of the sky peeking through a cloud filled day, were dark and ominous. Blaine knew that he had displeased the Dom, and he was about to pay.
"New York," Blaine whispered, every nerve in his body vibrating with anticipation.
"Thank you. Without a contract we will use green for go and yellow for slow down as well," he said. Blaine nodded and Elliot's hand reached out to Blaine's head, lowering his eyes to his waist. A large silver buckle wound tightly around black leather pants and called out to him. Elliot nodded. "Undo it," he ordered.
Hands shaking with nerves, Blaine reached up and unbuckled the belt, revealing the snap and zipper that was sure to be his next command. It was no surprise when Elliot instructed softly, "Go ahead."
Blaine swallowed and his fingers trembled and it took him longer than it should have to flip open the snap and pull down the zipper, but the Dom was patient. Looking up for permission, Elliot nodded and Blaine rolled the pants down to his hips, no underwear blocking his view underneath.
Blaine had never seen another cock before besides his own, not like this standing firm with desire. But before he could really take it in, Blaine saw the flash of Elliot's arm then felt the sharp smack of the crop on his ass.
"Eyes closed," Elliot ordered and, heart nearly beating out of his chest, Blaine did as he was told. Another smack landed and then another and it was not as painful as anything he'd gotten from Santana but it felt different. Both better and worse at the same time. "You are beautiful," Elliot told him, voice gentle and awed. He circled the crop against his ass but he did not strike again. "Your submission is intoxicating. Delicious. Makes me want to do so many things to you." Blaine felt heady. He could hear the rush of Elliot's dominance around him, he could feel his submission reaching out to it, begging to grasp hold. Blaine could feel himself falling, knowing that he would be safe and protected in this Dom's arms. After he was punished. "I did not give you permission to fill your tongue with the taste of alcohol. Did I?"
"No sir," Blaine admitted faintly through the haze.
"It is against the law, isn't it?" he asked. "Could get this club in trouble, couldn't it?"
"Yes sir," Blaine said.
He heard the swish only a second before he felt the sting, this one much harder than before. He bit back a yell, only allowing a small gasp to escape as he breathed through it.
"For your punishment, you will fill your tongue with the taste of me instead," Elliot ordered, but then he asked, "Color?"
"Green," Blaine answered without thought and hearing his own voice come out of his mouth he wondered for a second what it would be like to taste Kurt instead. Beautiful, gentle, caring Kurt who wouldn't have him kneeling on a pillow wedged between his cock and a crop. He was swept away from thoughts of Kurt when Elliot brought himself to Blaine's lips, tickling his cock against the sensitive skin. Blaine could feel himself falling farther, his submission fiercely swirling and he could feel it safely caught by the dominance of the man above him. It was just like with Santana but better, deeper, and on the edge of subspace he parted his lips for more when the crop came down hard on his ass.
The sharpness of the strike cluttered his thoughts for a moment, blurring his eyes and making his head spin. It was just one moment but it was all it took for Blaine to look up and see Kurt's face instead of Elliot's. Kurt standing before him, Kurt in leather with a crop and his cock pressed to Blaine's mouth. The thought went straight to his own erection as he imagined taking Kurt entirely in his mouth, sucking him, making him come, tasting him. He wanted it more than he'd ever wanted anything. Another blow came with words he could not hear. Then another cleared his thoughts and the voice demanded he open as a strong hand came to the back of his head but it was the wrong voice, and the wrong hand and the crop against his backside felt all wrong.
The pleasure in his stomach turned, tears came to his eyes and he sat back quickly on his heels, pulling away. "I'm sorry," he muttered, shaking his head knowing that the Dom would likely just throw him out like the garbage. "New York," he safeworded with a sob. "I'm sorry."
Elliot immediately pulled back, holstering his riding crop and turning away to put himself back together. Blaine could barely see the carpet he stared at through his tears, but he did see the Dom kneel before him, evenly. Blaine looked up surprised, and Elliot slowly, carefully as if asking permission raised a hand to wipe Blaine's tears. "What's his name?" the Dom asked gently.
Blaine was too upset to be surprised. "Kurt," he sniffed, responding to the complete kindness in Elliot's transformed eyes. He felt cloth on his skin and he realized that Elliot was draping his shirt back over his shoulders. He released his arms to put them through the sleeves and then buttoned up his pants.
"Why can't you be with him? Just because he is a man? Is he a Dom in a claim?" Elliot asked with a gentle curiosity.
For the first time Blaine wondered about Elliot's story. How many lonely subs did he pick up at the club? How many nights did he hear the sob stories of men unable to be with the person they loved. What made him come here instead of claiming his own?
Blaine shook his head, taking a deep breath. If he trusted Elliot enough to come back here with him in the first place, he should trust him enough for this. "He's not a Dom at all. He's a Gray."
Elliot let out a sigh. "That's a dangerous game Blaine," he warned.
"It's not a game," Blaine retorted looking away.
Blaine felt Elliot's hand grasp his and his focus was steered back to the Dom kneeling before him. "You're absolutely right, it's not. The threat to you is very, very, real. You're gorgeous Blaine. You're gorgeous and your submission is beautiful and the absolute truth is you could have any Dom you wanted. You could have me if you wanted," Elliot told him and there was a seriousness in his eyes that told Blaine that was not an idle proposal. "Be careful. Please."
Blaine allowed himself a moment to truly look at the Dom kneeling before him. He was everything that he had ever dreamed of, and it was being offered to him right now. The Dominance of Santana and the desire of Kurt in a man whose beauty combined the best of both of them. But Blaine knew he didn't want it. He knew that saying yes to this man, this perfect Dom, was betraying the love that pulsed so strongly in his heart for both of them. The weight on his shoulders and the pain in his heart that he felt before entering the club was back and Blaine needed to get away. He rose to standing, his skin burning hot as he looked down at the Dom staring up at him with wide concerned eyes. "Thank you Elliot," he said. And without waiting for an answer, he turned, slipped on his shoes, and ran out the door.
Walking into a new rehearsal hall was always nerve-wracking. Every cast had their pre-show cliques, their histories together that would help or taint the rehearsal process. Production staff had expectations and personalities that were yet to be figured out. Everyone had prejudices just hiding beneath the surface. Kurt had learned a lot during his first year and a half at NYADA and what he learned was that the theater wasn't much different from high school.
"Hey Kurt, don't look so skittish," Robert teased as they walked through the door. "I promise there are no sharks that will eat you whole, and if there are just remember that you are the one that knows how to wield a sword."
Kurt smiled, wary but trying, and he took his seat at the read thru table next to Robert. Actors and designers were slowly milling in and getting coffee and donuts from the table and stage management was passing out scripts. "Do you think we'll get a full schedule today?" he asked. He was trying to balance school, The Apples and this show and Kurt was well aware which one Carmen Tibideaux would consider a priority. Being busy though was a blessing, Kurt thought. Blaine was becoming more and more distant every day and having a multitude of distractions was extremely helpful.
"No promises," Robert said and he saw the worry in Kurt's face. "Don't worry, I'll smooth things out with Carmen. I know she doesn't like outside projects to get in the way, but she has to give some leeway to an internship."
Kurt nodded and he looked up towards the door. He could use some coffee and he was just about to get up when the last person on earth he'd want to work with walked through the door. "Oh no," he moaned, hiding his head in his hands. He was too late though, he'd already been spotted.
"Well, this is awkward." Kurt looked up to find Jesse St. James at his most smugly amused and Kurt responded with nothing but a tight smile. Jesse's grin only grew bigger. "I should call my agent, they didn't tell me we'd be doing the show in drag."
"Like anyone would want to see your legs in a skirt, Jesse," Kurt bit back.
"So I see you two already know each other," Robert interjected, reminding them both of the need to at least give a semblance of professionalism. "I hope this won't be a problem."
"No problem at all," Kurt said through his teeth, not taking his eyes from Jesse.
"We'll be the best of friends," Jesse agreed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Well good, because you two are going to be working very closely together," Robert said. "Jesse is the star of this show."
Kurt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. For once he just wanted something in his life to go right.
Kurt gathered up his notebook, script and pencils, and put them back in his bag. The read thru had gone well and he was excited for the work they were going to do. At least he would have been excited if the work wasn't almost entirely with one of the people he hated most in the world and, unfortunately, very likely to be as close to a brother in law as he might get some day.
Instead of leaving him alone though, Jesse sidled up beside him at the table. "If we're going to be working together we should probably figure out how to get along," he said.
Kurt scoffed. "Interesting you're willing to make nice because of a show but not because of the girl you say you want as your Dom. Though that is pretty much on par with your priorities isn't it?" he noted. He slung his bag over his shoulder and went to pour a hot cup of coffee before heading out into the cold.
"You know that coffee is like mud," Jesse said, but Kurt continued to ignore him. "There's a coffee house right across the street that's sublime. I thought I might stop before I head home."
"How nice for you," Kurt muttered.
Jesse came around the side of the table and held the coffee pot back from Kurt. Kurt glared up at him, but he saw something in Jesse's eyes that he'd never seen before. Remorse. "Come on Kurt, please," Jesse said softly. "I'm trying."
"You're very trying," Kurt glared. Jesse said nothing and Kurt put the coffee cup down with a sigh. "Fine. One cup. But you're paying." He didn't wait for an answer before he walked out the door whether Jesse was following him or not.
Kurt ordered the most expensive designer coffee that he could and with only a passing scowl Jesse paid for it and they carried their coffee to a table in the corner. Kurt sat back, crossing his legs and his arms and waited for it to cool. Jesse was leaning forward, elbows on the table wringing his hands together, perhaps for the first time in his life at a loss for words.
"I'm sorry for your loss," he finally said.
It took Kurt by surprise and he needed a moment to decide if he had heard the guy right before realizing that Jesse had spoken in all sincerity. Kurt let a little bit of his defense down. "Thank you," he said.
Jesse cast his eyes to the table then, his fingers fidgeting nervously. "Will you tell me how she's doing?"
Kurt's eyes narrowed. "Is that what this is about?" he asked suspiciously. "Trying to get dirt on her?"
But Jesse shook his head. "She won't talk to me about him. I don't blame her. After all it's my fault he's gone."
"It's not your fault," Kurt said quickly.
"It is," Jesse said and he raised his eyes to meet Kurt's. "I know I didn't pull the trigger but I set it all in motion. If I hadn't lied to him he wouldn't have enlisted." There was nothing Kurt could say to that. Though it didn't make him culpable for Finn's death, it was true nonetheless. "I don't deserve her."
"No," Kurt agreed wholeheartedly. "You don't." Kurt picked up his coffee and took a sip. He stared out the window into the crowd. Always looking.
"You know we aren't that different, you and I," Jesse said. Kurt didn't move. He didn't say a word. "After Finn died I always thought that if anyone would understand you would."
Kurt's stomach turned and he felt as though a sharp needle had pierced his heart. He tried so hard to come up with an argument that would prove to the man across the table that there was absolutely nothing further from the truth but he couldn't. Because Jesse was right. And though all Kurt could do was turn to look the man in the eye, Jesse knew that Kurt did understand, at least a bit.
"You know she worries about you," Jesse said. "As much as you worry about her. Maybe even more."
"She shouldn't worry about me," Kurt said, his voice low and rough now.
"Oh I tell her that all the time, but she's a stubborn one when she has an idea in her head," Jesse smirked, the light returning to his eyes.
Kurt rolled his eyes as he snorted. "The understatement of the year."
Jesse took a sip of his coffee. "I've always known that Rachel and I belong together," Jesse said. Kurt sat quietly, Blaine's face flashing in his mind. "When no one else believed it, I didn't give up on that dream. And I never will."
"Even when you know you aren't enough?" Kurt asked. "Even when you know how painful the dream could be?"
"If you love someone Kurt," Jesse said, "you should go after them with everything you have. I have always believed that. And I don't think that you're an exception to the rule."
Kurt's brow tightened in confusion. "Why? Everyone else does."
"Because Dom, sub or Gray, everyone deserves the chance to chase their dreams," Jesse told him. "A dream is something that fills up the emptiness inside. It's the one thing that you know if it came true that all the hurt would go away. So how could it possibly not be enough?"
Kurt meant to walk home to the loft but his feet had other plans. With Jesse's voice ringing in his ears, he found himself on his way to Blaine's apartment before his rational mind could tell him that it made no sense. He pulled his coat up around his ears to block the wind and kept his head down. Which is why he didn't see Brittany sitting inside the entryway of the apartment complex, her dance bag around her arm, until he had swung the door open and was about to press the buzzer.
"You can't go up there," Brittany said, sitting in the corner on the small black chair.
"Britt, what are you doing down here?" Kurt asked, startled.
"They're talking to their parents," Brittany explained. "Apparently something big has happened."
"They haven't found out about you have they?" Kurt asked nervously. "Or about me?"
"There shouldn't be anything to find out about you," Brittany said. "What are you doing here anyway? You know you just make everything worse for him. He's hurting and it's your fault."
"It's not my fault, Britt," he said quietly. But his heart clenched just at the very idea that Blaine was hurting at all.
"It is your fault though," Brittany snapped. "You're the one who led him on in the first place. Let him believe he could have a life with you, let him think that you're a Dom. He's in love with you Kurt, he's in love with you and he can't have you so instead he's been out destroying himself-"
"And I'd destroy him if he was with me!" Kurt yelled back. "That's what you all say anyway. That's what you think. So tell me what exactly I'm supposed to do."
"Stay away from him," Brittany told him clearly. "Let him forget you and move on. It's better for both of you."
Kurt turned away from her and he refused to let tears pool in his eyes. No matter how much he hated that she was right, she was and there was nothing that he could do about it. "I shouldn't have come tonight." If Kurt's dreams came true it wouldn't make the hurt go away, it would only make it a thousand times worse. "You don't have to worry. I'll leave him alone."
He walked out the door and back on to the sidewalk, his heart pounding as it shattered into pieces. He looked up to Blaine's window, one last time. He didn't expect Blaine to be staring out, looking back at him.
It was hard, pulling himself away. With the cold of the air and Blaine's eyes, no matter how far away and distorted, gazing out the glass of the frosted window at him, Brittany's words seemed nothing but a distant echo. And yet he couldn't get his feet to walk back inside and up those stairs. All he could do was turn his head and walk away.
They sat together at the computer in Santana's room, just staring at the screen dumbfounded. Their hands were curled tight in one another's grasp. Their hearts beat furiously in their chests. Blaine actually thought he might be sick and from the sweat in Santana's hand he thought she might feel the same.
"Did either of you know?" Mr. Anderson was demanding.
"No," Santana answered quickly. Too quickly Blaine realized but he hoped that his parents didn't. "She always seemed like a Dom to me." That also seemed strange. He'd always believed Quinn was a sub, though he realized now she'd never truly said.
"The Fabrays are understandably devastated," Mrs. Anderson said. "So much potential and then to find out she's Gray."
"I don't blame them at all for disowning her," Mr. Anderson said. "Lying to them her whole life like that? Keeping that kind of secret? Bringing that kind of shame on them?" He shook his head. "Such a disgrace."
Blaine felt his stomach lurch. His head was spinning.
"Dalton is considering revoking her diploma," Mrs. Anderson said.
Blaine's eyes flashed up. "She still did all the work," he argued. "What does it matter that she was Gray?"
Santana gaped furiously. "She'd be kicked out of Yale if they did that!"
Mr. Anderson looked at them both severely. "She lied to the school. She never should have even been allowed to attend in the first place," he told them.
"We're just lucky that it seems none of the boys at Dalton were hurt by her," Mrs. Anderson said. "Imagine Blaine, under the charms of a Gray."
Blaine couldn't take the conversation anymore. "Excuse me," he said quickly before getting up and walking to the bedroom. He closed the door behind him and went straight to his window, pressing his forehead against the cold glass. He closed his eyes for a minute, breathing in and out, concentrating only on the sound of the world outside, the conversation in the other room muffled to where he could not hear. When he opened his eyes he was sure they were playing tricks on him. Kurt's face stared up at him, just for a moment, wishing, wanting, then walking away.
"Imagine Blaine, under the charms of a Gray."
"Are you okay?" he heard as Santana wrapped her arms around him from behind and placed her cheek on his shoulder.
"You were with her. Weren't you?" he asked. If she was surprised by the question she didn't say so. She simply nodded against his shoulder. "Why didn't it last?"
"I didn't love her," she said and he turned in her arms. He didn't think he'd ever seen her more broken. "Not like I do Brittany."
"But you love her enough to be scared for her right now," he said and she nodded. "I'm okay," he lied. "Go call her. Make sure she's safe. I'm gonna go out. I'll tell Britt to come up."
She didn't ask if he was sure. For once she needed to just pretend that what he said was true. She kissed his forehead and in a daze she walked out his room.
Blaine staggered in the door without any realization that it was 3am and Santana was asleep on the couch waiting for him to come home. The loud bang as he tripped on some shoes left in the front hallway though woke her up and she came quickly to the front door and grabbed him by the arm.
"God, you reek of alcohol," she complained. Blaine mumbled something but he made little sense. She settled him on the couch and took off his jacket. Her eyes widened. "Is that lipstick on your neck?" she asked.
"I don't know," he muttered falling back on the sofa. The room was spinning. The ceiling's painted arcs were all blurring together in some crazy dance.
"Please tell me that is from some drag queen you picked up and not a girl," Santana glowered draping the coat over the arm.
"I said I don't know Santana!" Blaine yelled, loud enough to wake the neighbors.
Santana stared at him. This wasn't the first time in the past few weeks he had come home after a night at one of the D/s clubs she knew he was frequenting. But this was the first time his return was accompanied by excessive amounts of alcohol and lipstick stains on his neck. She was angry and disappointed but she pushed hard to remain calm. "Ok. Go to bed." She grabbed his arm and pulled him back up. "The good thing about drinking is that there's a natural punishment in the morning, and I will see you then."
"Whatever," Blaine drawled as he stumbled to his room, collapsing face first and fully clothed on his bed, promptly falling asleep.
When he woke his head felt like it was going to explode and his stomach churned. He lunged out of bed and somehow made it to the bathroom just in time to empty its contents. It didn't help the feeling of elephant's stomping in his brain, but it made his stomach feel better and he crawled back to his bed.
Santana was sitting on the edge.
She'd changed his pillow case so it was cool on his cheek when he laid back down and he curled his knees into his chest. He felt her hand rub his back and he groaned loudly. "Everything hurts."
"Is this a fitting punishment for what you did last night? And the way you spoke to me?" she questioned.
"No," Blaine pouted. "This is worse."
Santana chuckled softly. "Ok sweetheart. Sit up."
Blaine did as he was told and she pressed two small pills into his hand along with a bottle of cold water. He swallowed the pills, drank the water and curled up in her arms.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
"Tough," Santana said, squeezing him with love. "Was it a girl's lipstick last night?"
It was hard remembering all that had happened the night before. He hadn't really wanted to go back to Black and White after the Apples show but his heart ached from Kurt's silent treatment, nearly everyone was going and they didn't give him much of a chance to say no. He started drinking as soon as he got to the club. He quickly caught Elliot's watchful eye and the desire to submit was strong but he shook his head. He'd learned his lesson the first time.
He couldn't do anything, look at any guy, without thinking of Kurt. That's why he'd been submitting to girls.
His friends had dragged him to the dance floor and plowed him with drink after drink. The night became fuzzier and fuzzier but he remembered kneeling for two girls, giving them permission to do what they wanted, and then their lips were on his lips and on his neck, their tongue down his throat.
He remembered the lips feeling good in his alcoholic haze. Safe.
"Yes," Blaine admitted. "They were girls."
Santana sighed with disappointment and leaned back. "So are you telling me you like girls now?"
Blaine shook his head and lowered his eyes. "No Ma'am."
"Then why?" she asked sharply. "Our contract does not allow for you to submit to another female Dom without my permission."
He cringed at her tone and the power of it pounding in his head. "I don't know," he said, voice small, but that was a lie and he did know why. "Last time I went to the club I went in the back with the perfect Dom, Santana. He was everything I'd ever dreamed of. It should have been amazing. But all I could think of was…"
His voice trailed off but he didn't need to say Kurt's name for Santana to understand. "So you thought not being true to yourself was a better choice?"
"To be fair I wasn't really thinking at all," he offered, looking up at her with puppy dog eyes begging for a reprieve. "It just seemed easier. To be who everyone wants me to be."
"And by everyone you mean your parents?" Blaine nodded. Those eyes were almost always irresistible, but Santana needed to be very clear. "I will support you Blaine, in whoever you choose. But you have to be honest, with yourself and with the person you're with and being with a woman is not honest in any way, shape or form. Is it?" she demanded.
Blaine's head hurt from her force, but he knew she was right. "No Ma'am."
"I will never support you lying or breaking our contract like that and if this happens again I promise you that more than your head will be hurting. Is that understood?"
Blaine nodded. "Yes Ma'am."
"Good," Santana smiled softly. "Now I have to get my butt back to the law library and finish this paper. Brittany's at dress rehearsal for her show tomorrow night and you will be…?" she questioned.
"Dying," Blaine whined and fell back on the bed. "Don't mind me."
She took the pillow from under his head and smacked him on the ass. "I do mind," she said sternly. "Those pills should be kicking in any minute and breakfast is ready, it just needs to be heated up. So after you eat you will be doing what?" she asked again.
He tried to think. It was Thursday and he had no classes until the afternoon, but he had lines he needed to learn for acting. "Studying," he assured her. "I will be studying and then going to class."
"Good," she said again turning to go, but she stopped and turned with a crease in her forehead. "This perfect Dom a couple of weeks ago. Did you do anything with him?"
Blaine thought back to his night with Elliot. Once again he had and he hadn't and he didn't know what the right answer was. "Not really," he stuck with.
"Okay," she said and this time she gathered her things and walked out the door.
Blaine took a shower, changed his clothes and managed to make his way to the kitchen to make himself some toast with butter. Sitting down alone at the table he looked out their window, skyscrapers reaching up to the heavens. They always seemed to tickle the sky, so close that it nearly swallowed them whole. But in reality, there were miles and miles between them and the blue. And touching it was impossible.
Blaine and Santana were on their feet during the curtain call of Brittany's Alvin Ailey show. Brittany had been enchanting. Blaine had learned quickly when she and Santana had first started dating that she was an incredible dancer but it was obvious that in just the last few months she had come so much further. They filed out of the theater, heading to the stage door to wait for her when he heard Santana call out over his head. "Kurt! Come join us!"
Blaine grabbed her arm and pleaded. "Santana no, please. I'm trying to do the right thing and stay away from him."
Santana looked at him strangely. "Who said staying away from him was the right thing?" Blaine lowered his head under the sharp scrutiny of her gaze and the next words were an order so stern that he could not disobey. "Stay here."
Santana pushed through the crowd until she had caught up to Kurt. "Hey, I didn't know you were here or we would have come over and said hello during intermission."
"Oh, um, that's fine," Kurt said awkwardly and one glance from where she came made it clear that this conversation alone was causing Blaine a firestorm of emotions. "I'm here with some friends anyway."
"Well, you should come out with us," Santana said and Kurt was annoyed that even with him a request came out like an order. "I promised Brittany a trip to her favorite restaurant and I'm sure Blaine wouldn't mind-"
"Really Santana?" Kurt bit with sarcasm dripping. He looked over her shoulder to a Blaine frozen in place no doubt by demand. But Blaine's desire to run was as clear as day. "Because I'm pretty sure the last thing Blaine wants is for me to join you and even if he did, Brittany has made it very clear that I am not welcome around your sub."
Santana's eyes narrowed. "When did Brittany say that?"
"Pretty much any chance she gets," Kurt snapped.
"Look Kurt," Santana sighed. "I know Brittany's a genius, but she's not always right."
"If he needs a Dom more than anything else then she's right that I would never be enough for him," Kurt retorted.
Santana rested a hand on his arm. He looked up at her and the pain in his eyes broke her heart. "Is one person ever enough for anyone?"
"I don't know why we couldn't go to my favorite restaurant Santana, you promised," Brittany pouted as they arrived back home.
"Since my invitation to Kurt was rejected because both of you seem to think that the fact he's a Gray means he doesn't belong in your lives then neither one of you deserves to go out to dinner," Santana said, hanging up her things and making her way into the living room. Her subs dutifully followed. "You were amazing in your performance and I am very proud of you Brittany, but deliberately excluding Kurt will not be your reward."
"It wasn't Brittany's fault," Blaine said softly, kneeling before Santana, eyes trained on the ground. She looked at him with surprise. "Kurt and I know we can't be together and it hurts too much to be friends. It hasn't been easy but we're both trying to deal with that in our own ways. Don't blame Brittany for that."
Santana said nothing for so long and the room filled with such a deafening silence that eventually Blaine looked up. His Dom was staring down, her black locks framing her hard face and he held his breath until she finally spoke, her voice harsh and angry. "There is no one that can tell you who you can and cannot love. Not me, not your parents, and certainly not a society that knows absolutely nothing about you. Love. Trust. Respect. Truth. In the end those are promises not to me or to them. They are only to yourself."
Santana said nothing more as she turned around to her room. She did not call for Brittany, Brittany did not follow and Santana closed the door behind her. They both waited where they were, Blaine kneeling, Brittany standing by the couch. He did not look at his fellow sub. There was no sound until the shower in the master bathroom turned on.
"She's wrong you know," Brittany said matter-of-factly turning to Blaine. "She thinks because she's been with a Gray that she understands but she doesn't."
He looked up at her. "But you do?" he asked, curiosity and doubt mixing together.
Brittany nodded and she took a seat on the couch in front of him. He rested back on his heels. "I kissed a Gray once," she said. "And it was the most terrifying feeling of my life. I gave him my submission but there was nothing. Just this huge emptiness. It felt like falling off a cliff and waving my hands in the air hoping I'd find something to grasp hold of, but there was nothing. You just fall."
"That's why subs die," Blaine whispered to himself.
"If I loved someone, and every time I fell with nothing to hold onto…?" Brittany paused until Blaine raised his head and met her eyes. "How many times can you hit the ground before you need to take away the pain?"
Blaine didn't know the answer. But somewhere inside him his heart told him he didn't need to know. "Maybe Santana is right. Maybe it wouldn't be like that for us," he said, optimism glowing in his eyes. "Maybe he's wrong, maybe he's not even really Gray and that's why we're drawn to one another?"
"Don't fool yourself Blaine," Brittany warned and her anger was evident. "I know him. I've seen it with my own eyes. He's Gray and that's not going to change and no matter how much either of you want it, he won't be able to give you what you need. We'll lose you to him, Santana and I. And then you'll lose yourself."
She got up and headed to the bedroom door opening it. "Brittany," he stopped her and she turned back to him. She said that she'd kissed a Gray but… "The only Gray you've really known is Kurt."
Her lips turned down in sorrow and she nodded her head. "Yes. Believe me Blaine, he will not catch you when you fall."
~S~
And I will swallow my pride
You're the one that I love
And I'm saying goodbye
Say something I'm giving up on you.
Author's Note:
I'm so sorry my loves for all of the angst! But it will all be worth it in the end, I promise!
Leave me your thoughts. Ask me your questions, I'll tell you no lies. :-)
Pairing Warning:
Blaine/Elliot (cameo only, NOT ongoing)
