Friday night, Blaine was in Kurt's kitchen, fighting dinner. There was no other word for it – he certainly couldn't call it cooking. The food reacted completely different from the way it had when he had tested that particular dish at home earlier this week, and Kurt's kitchen appliances seemed to have a personal feud with him. The stove in particular was some modern touch-screen thing that made a horrible beeping noise whenever something it felt didn't belong there, like a drop of water, touched its surface.

Kurt wasn't there yet, but Blaine hadn't been able to wait any longer. He had missed him in those nearly two weeks they hadn't been able to see each other, and although there was of course the hope that today, finally, please, he would be allowed to come, it was more than that. He had really, really missed him.

He thought that maybe Kurt's kitchen was angry at him because he hadn't given it all of his attention like he should, but he had been distracted by thoughts about Kurt, and plotting his revenge.

Their phone call last Saturday had been torturous. Hot, but torturous. He had felt it until well into the week when his dick started to get hard at the most awkward moments whenever he saw someone use a phone, because of the places his mind went to. He had refused to let it affect his work, even at a morning hike and the tour back home on Sunday, but apparently whenever there were no kids involved, he was distracted a lot. His colleagues teased him mercilessly whenever he missed part of a conversation because he had been staring into space, thinking about Kurt, or sex, or both. Ruth had even given him a doodle of himself with heart instead of eyes, which was now adorning his fridge.

So he wanted revenge. His possibilities were limited – he couldn't very well forbid his Dom to come, but he was resourceful. He had his ways. He would have his revenge, and it would be glorious.

…...

Kurt stood in the doorway, a fond smile on his face. He was glad he had decided to come in quietly after he had noticed the spare key wasn't in its place – he could now take a moment to observe Blaine without him knowing. He was rummaging in the kitchen, clearly trying and failing to cook, humming or whistling under his breath as he pulled pots and pans and ingredients out of cupboards and bags, and suddenly breaking out in a string of curses as something boiled over. He looked relaxed, if somewhat frustrated, until this, and also very sexy as he bent over and stretched on tiptoe to get all the things he needed.

Kurt decided to stop watching Blaine when his dick reminded him that they hadn't seen each other for some time, and that there were perhaps better things he could do than just watch. Or at least, better things to watch. He walked up to Blaine, who was trying to clean up the mess on the stove, and slipped his hand under his shirt, warming his still-cold fingers on his belly. Blaine jumped, but soon leaned back into Kurt's arms.

"You frightened me," he said.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart,"Kurt said, not sorry at all. He gestured at the failed attempts at dinner."What's this? Are you fighting with my kitchen?"

"No, Sir, your kitchen is fighting with me. It just doesn't like me. I don't know what I've done to deserve this treatment. I was just trying to take care of dinner, but..." He shrugged helplessly.

"Then maybe you should take care of me instead." Kurt said, letting his hand slide deeper under the waistband of Blaine's pants. Blaine's sharp intake of breath and the rapidly growing bulge under his hand told him that Blaine wasn't at all averse to that idea.

"That sounds like a much better plan, Sir," Blaine said breathlessly, starting to squirm under Kurt's hand. "What – what do you want me to do?"

"I think I would like to fuck you on the kitchen floor."

"Oh God, please," Blaine groaned, closing his eyes for a moment. "Just – Sir? Please tell me you're going to let me come."

Kurt grinned and pretended to contemplate the idea. "Have you been good?" Of course he would let Blaine come. Whatever anyone might think, he was no monster.

"I've been so good, Sir. Please."

"So you haven't come for...?"

"Ten days, Sir."

Kurt winced. That was a long time, and he wouldn't have blamed Blaine for being disobedient. He himself had had a few very nice, if rather lonely moments fondly remembering their phone call from Saturday, because he kept being randomly turned on just by thinking about it. If Blaine had gone through the same, he had proven a good deal of willpower by not giving in to temptation. He definitely deserved a reward.

He smiled and softly bit at Blaine's neck, opening the button of his pants. "Then yes, just for today, you can come as many times as you want."

…...

Blaine's knees buckled, he was so relieved, and suddenly almost unbearably turned on. He turned in Kurt's arms, desperate to be closer, and when Kurt had to take his hand out of his pants, he made up for it by claiming his lips in a kiss. Blaine moaned and slipped his tongue between Kurt's lips, not being able to wait, as he usually did, for Kurt to do that. On their own initiative, his hands started opening the buttons on Kurt's shirt. Kurt didn't seem to mind that Blaine hadn't waited for a request to do so; he matched Blaine in passion and haste, only interrupting their kiss to pull Blaine's sweater over his head.

"Oh fuck," Kurt groaned and let go of Blaine. "Get rid of your clothes, I'll be back in a second."

Blaine hurried to strip, carelessly letting his clothes fall where they would, hoping that Kurt would return with condoms and lube. He didn't have to wait long. Kurt came back with the supplies they needed, and once again, Blaine found himself drawn into an intense, bruising kiss from which he emerged panting and just about ready for anything.

"Hands and knees, pet," Kurt said, and Blaine lowered himself to the ground, flinching a little when his knees hit the cold tiles. But it didn't matter, for Kurt was laying himself above him and peppered his back with kisses, while one hand sneaked down between his cheeks to tease at his hole.

Blaine groaned. "Please, Sir, don't tease. If you don't fuck me soon, I think I'll die."

"I wasn't teasing, I was prepping you, you drama queen. But if you like, I can do the quick version."

"Extra quick, please. And I'm not a drama queen."

"You are, too." Kurt gave one off Blaine's ass cheeks a light swat, which made him laugh, but it soon turned into a moan when Kurt pushed two lubed fingers into his hole, moved them around a little and then added a third.

"Sir, please, I'm ready," Blaine begged, then added under his breath, "I've been ready all week."

That earned him another swat, and then Kurt took his hands away from him for a moment. Then, finally, Blaine felt the blunt head of Kurt's cock against him, and as Kurt pushed in, he gave himself over to the fullness, to the feeling he had craved all week.

"Oh God, thank you, Sir," he moaned, unable to hold back.

Kurt started to move inside him, but agonizingly slow. It felt good, but Blaine needed so much more. Before he could start to beg, however, Kurt asked hoarsely, "How do you want it? You get to choose."

"Please, Sir, faster. I need – faster, harder. And please – touch me, Sir?"

Blaine moaned as he felt Kurt's hand on his cock, stroking him a few times, and then finding a rhythm with the thrusts of his cock.

Kurt fucked him hard, fast and unforgiving, and together with the hand on his cock, Blaine knew he wouldn't last long. He tried to hold back, though; it was too good to be over so quickly. All too soon, however, he felt the orgasm draw near.

"Sir, I'm – I'm close. Please, can I -?"

"Yes, I already told you," Kurt panted. "Come."

And Blaine pressed once more into Kurt's hand, and came. He wanted to slump down on the floor, but Kurt held him upright and continued fucking him, only moving his hand from Blaine's cock to his hip, but apart from that ignoring his moans of oversensitivity. It didn't take long, though, after a few more thrusts Kurt grunted, and Blaine could feel him pulsating inside him. They slumped down on the floor together then, Kurt lying on Blaine's back, but immediately, Blaine squealed and surged up again, nearly throwing Kurt off.

"Sorry," he said, giggling at Kurt's indignant expression. "It's just – the floor is cold."

They had, once again, gotten takeout for dinner, and while they waited, Blaine had taken care of the mess in the kitchen and on the kitchen floor. Now he leaned back in his chair, full and content.

"Can we do that every time I'm supposed to make dinner?" he asked.

Kurt snorted. "What, kitchen sex and delivered tacos?"

"I'm flexible, you know. I won't insist on tacos."

"Sorry, pet," Kurt said, patting his hand. "Nice try. But you will have to find a way to get along with my kitchen."

Blaine grinned, though he tried to look like he was pouting. This evening had been fantastic. Still, Kurt had better be prepared, for one time kitchen sex didn't make up for telephone torture and ten days' abstinence. Blaine would have his revenge.

…...

"Tell me about this weekend."

Kurt sighed. He had fought Rachel endlessly on this, but there had been no getting through to her, no sympathy for not having seen his new boyfriend for almost two weeks and perhaps needing some privacy. She had been determined to do the whole works, claiming that they saw each other much too rarely now and that it was a disgrace she hadn't met Blaine yet.

"I'm sorry, apparently it's going to be 'meet Blaine – weekend'. We're meeting Rachel for brunch tomorrow, then she needs my help shopping for something, and in the evening, we're going to Callbacks. That's a karaoke bar that's a popular hangout with NYADA students, and that we just don't admit we're too old for now. We'll meet a few other people there, and they'll all want to sing with you. Then we'll probably have to crash at Rachel's, because she'll drink too much, and it's somehow become my job to look after her in such cases. On Sunday, we'll leave her to her hangover and then hopefully have a few hours for us."

"Oh wow, that sounds...like fun, actually, if perhaps a little tiring. And Rachel, and your other friends, they don't know about – you know, you being a Dom?"

"Oh God, no. No, I wouldn't want to hear what they'd have to say about that, please. We'll have to be just boyfriends for the weekend."

"That's okay. I'll do my best to not call you 'sir' in front of them. It'll be a challenge. Oh, may I call a friend of mine and invite him to karaoke? He likes singing, and we haven't has a lot of opportunities to hang out, lately. And...I might need a little moral support."

"Sure, anyone who can sing will fit right in. Are you nervous? You don't have to be. Rachel can be a handful – the others too, for that matter, but it's her duty as my best friend to like my boyfriend. Just be your usual, charming self."