After Sebastian complains that his upcoming exams are hitting him hard, Kurt comes up with a way to make sure his sub remembers that Kurt has his back.
Warning for cutting, mention of blood, and recreational marijuana use. Just so you know, it jumps right into it. But this isn't gory. It's ritualistic, and romantic. And it's done on Sebastian's back, so that should really tamp down on the squick factor.
Written for lilinas Bitchmas prompt 'agony', but in an emotional sense, and the hummelholidays prompt 'candles'.
There's a sweet agony to it – the blade biting into his shoulder, the slice of skin splitting apart as the metal edge runs through. Sebastian can't see it, lying on his stomach on Kurt's bed, but he can feel the sting, and then the tickle of light touches from blood rolling down his skin after it wells up.
But Kurt's quick to dab at the wound, pressing to stem the bleeding.
Kurt takes extreme care when he marks Sebastian this way. He wears latex gloves, and he uses a fresh blade every time. He has sterile gauze and Neosporin on hand to keep the wound clean and infection free.
The only possible faux pas in the hygienic nature of this practice is the bong Kurt's hitting, which he passes off to Sebastian while he cuts.
"To numb the pain," Kurt had said.
The bong they're sharing is made of clear glass, and is called a blowjob.
Sebastian thinks the name is kind of apropos.
Not that it's doing much numbing – not of Sebastian's shoulder, anyway. What it is doing is making Sebastian relaxed enough that the glances against his prostate by the head of Kurt's cock don't build tension, don't make him feel like he's about to explode. It's keeping him mellow, pliant, floating between daydream and reality, but only the reality that exists here in Kurt's bedroom.
And that's fine by Sebastian. This reality is his favorite reality by far.
The sweetest agony of all is Kurt on his back, fucking him slowly while he carves this intricate symbol into the skin of Sebastian's shoulder - the one without the brand. This is another type of brand, something Kurt conjured up when Sebastian started complaining about his upcoming exams. Sebastian moaned and groaned about Calculus and Econ and Physics as if he isn't acing those classes already. But the underlying thread, the agony unspoken, is that those tests are another herald of his time with Kurt coming to a close.
If Sebastian fails at his plan, that is. He has no intention of accepting defeat if he does. But if he does fail, it will be the biggest failure of his life.
Kurt didn't grasp Sebastian's real meaning when they spoke. How could he when Sebastian hasn't told him what he's calculating yet? There are things that Sebastian left out of his rant, and he feels guilty for it. But in an attempt to solve the problem that Kurt did know, to ensure that his submissive passes with flying colors and so he knows that Kurt has his back, Kurt came up with this ritual.
Sebastian seemed to enjoy cutting before, when Kurt carved words of ownership on his leg. Kurt is being more artistic about it this time, creating not a crude collection of words, but an image. A totem.
The sex, well, Kurt added that because he's down to fuck anytime he gets Sebastian naked.
He takes a hit off the bong, then passes it to Sebastian as he makes his final cut.
"There you go, preppy," Kurt hums, blotting the cuts with a fresh piece of gauze.
"May I see it, Master?" Sebastian asks, turning his head in a futile attempt to sneak a peek.
"Oh, alright," Kurt teases, even though he had already picked up his iPhone to take a picture and show him. He hands the phone over to Sebastian, and while Kurt grabs a candle and lights it, Sebastian examines the image. It's two symbols, both a strange combination of straight lines and circles, like something aboriginal, or Native American. It's something that Sebastian has definitely never seen before, Old World, like the Celtic knot tattooed on the back of Kurt's neck.
"It's amazing, Master," he says. He hisses when hot wax, wielded by surprisingly steady hands, hits the wound, while further down, Kurt continues to slowly thrust. "Mmm, what are they, exactly?"
"They're Norse runes," Kurt says, carefully going over the lines with dribbles of wax to protect it … and to keep his sub's blood off his $80 sheets. "The one on the left's for luck, and the one on the right's for stamina."
Sebastian smirks. "Stamina?"
"Yeah," Kurt says. ""You're here with me for the week. I have a feeling you're going to need it."
"And luck, Master?" Sebastian moans when Kurt speeds up, pulling far back, then rocking into Sebastian's body, hitting him harder. "Does that mean … mmm … you're going to let me cum today?"
"Hmm," Kurt hums, thinking, and while he thinks, he stalls. He blows out the candle and sets it aside. Then he takes another hit off the bong, a long one, long enough to leave Sebastian in suspense while Kurt gets his buzz going. He blows smoke out through his mouth, watches it fall over Sebastian's back and curl away like fog creeping up his spine, over his brand and this new wound, both of them symbols of how Kurt latched his hooks into this boy, took pieces of him out large enough to inject himself inside. "Well, if this thing's worth the time I put into it, then I'd say things look good for you."