Kurt was sitting in Lady Sue Sylvester's overly opulent salon, sipping at a glass of admittedly excellent champagne, and pouting. He carefully schooled his features into a neutral expression, but knew he wouldn't be able to pretend to have fun or even be sociable.
He frowned as he watched Blaine, flirting over his hand of cards with every man and woman in his party.
It was his own damned fault. A few weeks into their arrangement, he had given Blaine the task of not only being his usual charming self, but to actively flirt with the other guests of the party. Blaine was good, if still a little shy, and it was working; the young ladies were giggling behind their fans, while the occasional older one would make a lewd remark while tapping him on the shoulder with her fan in reproof. The gentlemen were looking at him with calculating eyes, as if to figure out how far they could get him to go, and Kurt was slowly going mad.
He should have known it. It had been obvious, these past few weeks, that he was developing some...affection for Blaine, even though they had had not nearly as much time for each other as he might have wished. But the way he was thinking of him, not only at night in bed when he brought himself off to memories of Blaine fucking him, so gentle and careful at first until he gave him leave to move, and then with his usual vigor and the most delicious sounds, awe and wonder in his eyes. But during the day, too, when his father was showing him something that puzzled him, or he saw something amusing that Blaine would like - it had been clear as day, and whatever he might say, he had had enough warning to maybe cut their arrangement short before his feelings became too strong, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to do it.
He was distracted from his thoughts when someone stood directly in front of his chair, and looking up, he saw it was Blaine's brother, Cooper Anderson. Slowly, Kurt stood up. He had a lingering suspicion what this was about, and now it didn't seem half as amusing as it had been when he imagined it.
"Viscount," he said in greeting.
Cooper sketched a short bow. "May I speak to you in private for a moment, my lord?"
"Of course," Kurt said, and together they went on the balcony that was, for once, empty.
Once outside, Cooper's respectful behavior changed.
"I want you to stay away from Blaine," he said without preamble, hands clenched into fists at his side.
"But Blaine doesn't want me to stay away from him," Kurt said with a very impolite grin, amused by Cooper's usual dramatic behavior.
"Watch your mouth," Cooper warned, scowling. "You shouldn't be so familiar with him."
With some difficulty, Kurt refrained from telling him how familiar his mouth was with Blaine by now; calling him by his given name was nothing.
"I call him Blaine, he calls me Kurt. It's mutual." Except when Blaine slipped and called him 'my lord', which happened when he got overwhelmed and sometimes in bed, or when he was in a teasing mood. Kurt rather liked it.
"You called me Kurt, too, Coop. What's your problem with Blaine and I?"
When Cooper only scowled without answering, Kurt relented. They had parted on good terms, there was no reason now to become enemies over this.
"I have no desire to hurt Blaine, Cooper. We are friends, too, you know, and both of us know what we're doing. I know he is your little brother, and you want to protect him, but he is a grown man too, and he wants to have his own experiences. Some of them, he wants to have with me. I promise I'll keep him safe."
"Can you keep his heart safe?" Cooper asked. Kurt nearly laughed. He wasn't even able to keep his own heart safe, what was he supposed to do with another's?
"I have nothing to do with his heart," he replied, somewhat sullenly. "He has given his heart away a long time ago, there is nothing you, I, or anyone else can do about it. We can only hope that the one he has chosen is worthy of him."
"I suspect he is not," Cooper said, but before Kurt could ask if he knew the name of the man, Cooper bowed and left the balcony.
After a moment, Kurt followed him inside. Cooper was watching Blaine playing at cards, or rather flirt over his hand, at the moment with a young lady who seemed especially delighted by his attentions.
"I grant that it doesn't seem like he needs my protection anymore. He does seem rather comfortable in society," Cooper said.
"He does indeed," Kurt said and made to return to his seat, where he was enough out of focus he wasn't requested to play too often. But he stood and looked back for a moment.
"Cooper. Congratulations on your engagement."
Cooper smiled. "Thank you."
Comfortable in society, indeed. Far too comfortable, in Kurt's opinion, and he more than ever regretted the stupid assignment he had given Blaine when he heard a particular loud, and so it seemed to him, exaggerated giggle from the direction of Blaine's table. They could flirt and flounce all they wanted. He would take Blaine home with him tonight, and he would finally claim him. None of the simpering idiots currently fawning over Blaine would get to fuck him tonight. Only Kurt. Only ever -
Who was he kidding. He was no one to Blaine, he had no claim to him, and in a few weeks, Blaine would be gallivanting off with the unknown man Kurt really did not like at all. Maybe, after a while, when Blaine wouldn't be so preoccupied with his new lover anymore, they could be friends. But that was all they'd ever be.
Suddenly, he wanted to be here even less than before. He had planned to take Blaine home with him, but he didn't want to anymore; he feared for his self control. He should go, he dared not tarry any longer lest he alert all and sundry to his foul mood by snapping at anyone who tried to talk to him.
He stood, said a discreet farewell to the hostess, and left. Leaned back in the seat of his barouche, he thought, and he was still thinking as he lay in bed.
Maybe it was time to finally admit to himself that this arrangement was not going according to plan at all. He had known Blaine, really known him, for only a few weeks, and yet there was nothing he could call himself but infatuated. Or maybe that word was too weak, even, maybe he should call himself...But he wouldn't. There was no sense in it, and only heartbreak, because whatever feelings he was building, Blaine would never reciprocate. Blaine had been in love with that unworthy scoundrel for years; that would not change because of a few weeks acquaintance with him. There was nothing to do for him but to somehow get through the last few weeks until Cooper's wedding, and then try his best to overcome this. As he would. Because he had to.
Lord Burt had excused Kurt from his duties for the morning, knowing as he did that there was no escaping Lady Sue Sylvester's invitation, and that even with Kurt's premature departure, the party had lasted well into the night.
So Kurt was late to breakfast, and somehow wasn't surprised to receive Blaine's card on a tray in the middle of it.
"Invite Mr. Anderson to join me, please, and bring a second cup and more tea," he told the maid who had brought the card, and barely had time to take a deep breath before Blaine entered the room.
"I'm surprised to see you up so soon. You stayed longer than I did; shouldn't you still be in bed?" Kurt said, trying for light hearted and teasing, but not sure if he succeeded. From the way Blaine scowled at him, he did not.
"I might have been," Blaine said slowly, sitting down and pouring himself a cup of tea, "had there been someone beside me, as I came to expect there would."
Kurt winced. "My apologies. It wasn't my intention to abandon you. I was plagued by a headache and decided to seek my bed. I...you seemed to be enjoying yourself, so I left you in peace."
Immediately, Blaine's expression turned into one of worry, and Kurt felt guilty for lying.
"Are you better now?" Blaine asked.
"Much better," Kurt said, which again was a lie, because while he wasn't tormented by jealousy anymore, it was no easier to be aware of his feelings and know they would ever stay unrequited.
They talked about nothing of import while Kurt was finishing his breakfast, although Blaine was able to offer some new insights on a few things about the estate Kurt had been thinking about. As soon as he dabbed his lips, however, and set down his cup, Blaine asked,
"What did you think of my performance yesterday? Did I fulfill my task?"
Kurt suppressed a grimace. "You did indeed. Most admirably."
Blaine stood up from his seat on the other side of the table, only to sit down again on the chair next to Kurt's. Their legs brushed as he sat down, and Kurt knew it was deliberate. Blaine really had been an exceptional student, and there wasn't much more Kurt could teach him that he wouldn't be able to learn by himself, just by getting more experience. Kurt also didn't want to teach him anymore. He didn't want to be Blaine's teacher, he wanted so much more he would never be.
"If I remember correctly, my lord, you promised to grant me a boon if I fulfilled your task," Blaine said, and Kurt groaned inwardly. He had an idea what Blaine would ask for, and it would be hard for him to give. But how could he not? He was not strong enough for that.
"You have certainly earned it," he said, forcing a smile. "If it is in my power to give, you shall have it."
"Not only is it in your power to give, you are the only one who can give it. The first time, you insisted that I would be the one to...fuck you, since I was the virgin. And it was wonderful, but now that I am virgin no longer, I would know the other side. I want you to fuck me."
Kurt hadn't thought Blaine meant right now. But here they were, in broad daylight, in Kurt's bed, and Kurt couldn't help but put all he was feeling, his whole heart, into his kiss. It felt almost unbearably intense to him, but Blaine didn't seem to notice; he moaned his pleasure and kissed Kurt back just the way he had learned he liked it. And Kurt was weak; he couldn't help but respond to it, to the way Blaine touched him, so sure of himself now, so sure that Kurt would like whatever he did. He responded, moaned and arched his back and fumbled for the oil on the little table beside the bed, even though tears burned behind his eyes that he would never, never, let anyone see.
And then he became even weaker, for he forgot about the pain and the heartbreak that would surely follow, and he forgot even himself as he pushed into Blaine, slowly, slowly, while Blaine was looking at him with wide eyes, and then let them fall closed and moaned, long and deep, his hands clutching Kurt's hips in a grip that would leave bruises. He forgot everything but the moment, and that he was giving Blaine this last thing, and himself this to remember, later, when his bed was cold again.