Summary:

Riding high on his success, getting his dad to agree to give him the building in New York, Sebastian rushes back to his Master to tell him the good news. Instead, he discovers he needs to pay off a debt ... and discovers a brand new fetish that makes him 'burn' with desire.

Knockknockknockknock.

Sebastian stands at Kurt's doorstep, fidgety inside his coat, grinning so hard his lips are ready to crack his face in half. He can't wait to tell Kurt about his plan. He can't wait to tell him about the warehouse. He can't wait to tell him that he found a way for Kurt to pursue his dream in New York.

That he found a way for them to stay together.

That he expressly disobeyed Kurt's command, went against his wishes, and came up with this all behind his Dom's back.

…

Okay, maybe he can wait a little bit.

Fuck.

There's so much he hasn't thought through, but again, he doesn't feel like he has the time. He'd needed to act fast. He'd needed to prove to himself first that he could get that building from his dad, act like an adult in the face of one of the most successful men he knows. And he did it. He stood up to his father, in a manner of speaking, and prevailed on his dad's turf. It was something he never thought he'd ever be able to do, so, in the past, he made himself believe that it was something he didn't want to do. Why would he ever need to? He had no intention of going in to the same area of business as his father. He wasn't certain he wanted to go into business at all, therefore eliminating the possibility that he would ever be his father's partner or his adversary. But now that he'd done it, he realizes how important it was to him – really, truly important for his dad to see him not only as a competent adult, but also as a potentially competent businessman.

And now, the boy who had had no clue what he wanted to do with his future finally has an idea for what he wants for the rest of his life.

The first step to that is making sure Kurt can be a part of it. If he can't – or if he won't - Sebastian feels the very real possibility of this whole thing falling apart, and not just the club.

He's not only worried about the sub side in him longing for a Dom he can't have, but the man inside him, falling head-over-heels in love with another man.

He's still on the fence about confiding in Elliott about this. This concerns him, too. Once Sebastian tells Kurt about his plan, it'll look to Elliott like Sebastian is trying to steal his best friend – the man he loves – whether Kurt agrees or not. He should get Elliott on his side, or at least warn him that he's making this move. Ultimately, Sebastian hopes that he can do this without Elliott's help.

Maybe he doesn't have to side with the enemy.

Maybe he shouldn't consider Elliott his enemy.

If Kurt is developing the same feelings for Sebastian that Sebastian has for Kurt, Kurt would agree without needing Elliott's blessing … right? Or would loyalty, which seems to be the cornerstone of the way Kurt lives his life, prevail over his heart, especially when his heart is dead set that New York is not an option, and that he and Sebastian weren't meant to be together?

All of these questions turn into a hard lump of cold steel settling in the pit of his stomach. They can only be answered by one man.

And that man, from what Sebastian has learned, is so stubborn, he makes mules look like kittens.

But Sebastian has to man up and do it. Lay it all out on the line if he's going to know where he stands. He has to remind himself that even though he disobeyed, he didn't do anything wrong. He's looking out for the greater good – his greater good, yes, but the greater greater good. Sebastian believes in Kurt. Kurt deserves this shot.

Kurt deserves success … and happiness.

Sebastian only hopes that that happiness can include him as well.

The whole outline for his plan sits on the tip of his tongue, waiting, ready to be presented, until the second Kurt opens the door. He looks at Sebastian with that intelligent smirk of his, brimming with mischief, and Sebastian suddenly feels like the flailing sub again – more nervous than he was in the face of his father.

Where did that confident young man from a few minutes ago go? Sebastian hasn't the foggiest idea.

Even though he prepared on the drive over here to take charge and plead his case, Sebastian can't come out and say it. Not now.

It's not about presentation. He has to find the right time.

"Did you miss me, preppy?"

"I always miss you when I'm away, Master," Sebastian says, bowing his head, staring directly at Kurt's bare feet and his black painted toe nails.

"Aw. That's very sweet," Kurt says, his tone of voice the height of condescension, "but that's not going to keep you from being punished?"

Sebastian raises his brows but not his eyes. "Punished, Master? But I just got here."

"Yes, but you still have a debt to repay from the last time you were here. That little trick you pulled with the blowjob at my front door?"

Sebastian grins though he tries not to. "I thought you enjoyed that, Master."

Kurt rolls his eyes, fighting his own grin because yeah, he enjoyed that. He enjoyed that a lot. But what he enjoyed more than anything was giving over control to his smug little sub.

He can't do that.

He can't fall into that trap again.

"Regardless, I said no, and no means no."

"Understandable."

"Are you sorry?"

Sebastian checks himself before he answers. The advisable thing to say would probably be yes, but that's not the complete truth. And Kurt can sniff out a lie like a bloodhound can sniff out a dead body. "Yes and no, Master. Yes, because it made you uncomfortable. I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

"And no …"

"And no because I enjoy giving you pleasure, Master. I always want to give you pleasure."

"And you did, my sexy little trollop," Kurt coos, pinching Sebastian's chin. "Be that as it may, punishment is still in order."

"But I thought you punished me for that already, Master," Sebastian says, cheek still bearing the silvering remains of faint nail marks.

"Yes, but after careful consideration, I don't feel it was enough." Kurt leans in and whispers, "That's what happens when you're gone for too long. I start thinking, preppy. Planning."

Ironic, Sebastian thinks as Kurt grabs his sleeve and yanks him inside. "Undress, preppy." Kurt watches his sub take off his shoes and clothes at his front door, still hanging open. Because Sebastian doesn't register that, or care. As long as he's in Kurt's domain, he'll do as Kurt says, regardless of who can see. "And don't worry. I think you're going to enjoy this."

Kurt kicks his door shut, throwing the bolts and locking it tight. He leads his sub through his living room with a hand wound in his hair. He marches into the kitchen, swings by the refrigerator, stops for a moment, then drags Sebastian down the hall to his bedroom. He tosses Sebastian in the direction of his puppy spot. Sebastian scurries there, gets into position, and kneels as still as possible.

"I've been preparing this for you since last night," Kurt says, shaking a plastic sandwich bag in front of Sebastian's face. It's what he got from the freezer, Sebastian knows. He can feel the cold, see waves of it pouring off, visible in the dim light of the purple room. "I covered it in Irish Spring, Icy Hot, and a few other secret special ingredients. Then I popped it in the freezer." He chuckles darkly. "We both know where this is going, don't we, preppy?"

Sebastian swallows hard. It's not like he hasn't had a plug in his ass before. It's not like he hasn't had a large plug in his ass before. But this one looks about as round as a billiard ball. And covered in Icy Hot? Sebastian hates putting that shit on his muscles after practice. He's not particularly keen on having it shoved up his ass. "Yes, Master."

"Good. Hands and knees, baby boy. You're going for a little ride."

Sebastian moves forward to lean on his palms while Kurt grabs a bottle of lube from his bed. Head down, sound guides him through the steps that count down to his punishment. He hears an unfamiliar snapping noise. He hears Kurt open the bag, the lid of the lube open with a pop, the squelching as Kurt squeezes, Kurt's footsteps as he walks behind him. When Kurt touches his skin, he feels unexpectedly sterile, his hands covered in latex gloves, which is where the snapping must have come from.

Probably to protect him from the layer of pain goop covering the plug.

Great.

Kurt's fingers massage an excess of lube down the crack of his ass, wiping a dollop inside. He adds more lube, fingering him slowly, opening him up to accommodate that monster plug. Sebastian appreciates the care Kurt puts into prepping him. Punishment is not solely about the pain. It's not even mostly about the pain. It's about learning a lesson. Pain is simply the tool used to fortify that lesson. If Kurt came at him with that plug and shoved it up his ass without any preparation, all Sebastian would learn is that Kurt has no problem injuring him.

And that's not the man Kurt is.

"I think that does it, preppy," Kurt says, applying an extra layer of lube for good measure. Sebastian feels wet when Kurt finishes. Dripping wet. It's extremely erotic, lube dribbling out of his gaping hole and down his legs. But they're nowhere near done.

Kurt hasn't even gotten started.

He produces the plastic sandwich bag with the plug, which he'd kept in the corner, chilling in a bucket of ice. He brings the ice with him, probably to ensure that the plug stays cold while he tries to seat it in Sebastian's ass.

The process of placing the plug is an equally long one. The top of the plug is round, not pointed, so right up front, it's offering no help whatsoever. There's a lot of adjusting on Sebastian's part to help open him up, something in the vein of BDSM yoga to properly align his legs, lift his ass, and bend his spine while Kurt moves the plug against the ring of muscle, relaxed but dead and determined to keep the plug out. It's dipped numerous times in the bucket of ice, which drives Sebastian insane because, he's discovered, cold around his ass and balls is a tremendous turn-on.

Much teeth clenching and grinding goes into Sebastian's attempt to not buck back or straight out cum, especially when the overly lubricated and ice cold plug finally slides smoothly into his ass.

He gasps and moans in the back of his throat. His cock, already hard from the attention his ass has been receiving, throbs, so brick red it looks purple against his skin.

"There." Kurt taps the base of the plug gently, then pushes down on the curve of Sebastian's spine where it meets his tailbone. "Now kneel back, ass on your heels, and we'll let that sucker simmer for a while."

"Yes, Master," Sebastian squeaks out, adding a, "thank you, Master," since a punishment is supposed to be a sign of care.

His Master cares enough to teach him.

Sebastian needs to show he's grateful for being taught.

But the change in position proves to be unbearable, putting that ball of metal radiating cold too far from his prostate. Every second he sits, that cold goes away as the metal warms to the temperature of his body.

It's definitely a delayed reaction when it hits.

But once the chill is gone, the burn starts to grow, putting Sebastian's teeth on edge.

And Kurt, sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning back against his hands, one leg crossed over the other in his signature tight jeans, watching Sebastian intently, notices the change.

And smiles.

It starts with the slightest shift of his body weight on his knees, his jaw going rigid, his eyes beginning to water, a sniffle when they do.

"How does that feel, preppy?"

"It's, uh …" Sebastian pauses, searching for the right words as he succumbs to the full effect. After the frost melts, the cooling sensation persists, but it feels artificial.

It gets uncomfortable quick.

And then comes what he's certain Kurt has been waiting for.

Sebastian bites down hard, groaning between clenched teeth.

"Urg! It … it burns, Master!"

"And that, my dearest boy, is what we refer to as figging. Effective, isn't it? It's usually done with ginger, but I like this method a lot better. It's cleaner, more sanitary, easier to control, and a helluva lot easier to explain if you have a bad reaction and we end up in the E.R. Ginger up the ass? A bit more complicated." Kurt gets off the bed and kneels in front of Sebastian, bending low to see his downcast eyes. "Now, you may feel the need to evacuate your bowels, but I'm telling you right now … resist. that. urge."

The thought hadn't actually crossed Sebastian's mind, but now that Kurt said it, it's all Sebastian can think about. "Yes, Master."

"Now," Kurt begins, standing again, "since you'll be wearing that at my club tonight, you'll need to learn how to crawl with it in. It can be a slippery little s.o.b. with all that shit on it, but if it drops on the floor … you're in for a long night. On your hands and knees, boy. Let's give this a shot."

Again, Sebastian moves forward to rest on his palms. This new shift in position not only moves the heat closer to his prostate, a less erotic experience than the cold, but gravity intervenes, doing its best to draw the plug out. Couple that with his own body's attempts to expel the sucker and Sebastian starts clenching like a motherfucker, his ass hugging the almost non-existent neck of the plug with nothing (like his heels) to support it.

As if that isn't hell enough, now he has to move, a feat that seems impossible considering how much of his strength and energy he's putting into keeping the plug in place.

Sebastian isn't sure what Kurt meant by 'a long night', but he's betting it has nothing to do with dirty sex and rainbows.

Kurt leaves Sebastian stranded long enough to get his collar and wrap it around his sub's neck. He clips a long, metal chain to it and pulls it out a few feet.

"Come on, boy," he says, giving the chain a tug. "Let's start with a lap around the room. We'll take it nice and slow until you're used to it."

"Yes … grrr … Master," Sebastian says, trying to will his body to move. Every muscle he has is tense with a single goal in mind. Trying to split that between two tasks is like trying to pat your head and rub your stomach at the same time.

Which Sebastian can actually do but, still, it's hard.

"Come on, preppy," Kurt says, giving the chain another tug. "Time's a-wastin'."

Sebastian decides to slide his knees across the floor instead of lifting them.

"Good boy," Kurt says when Sebastian finally moves, which gives him the impetus to keep it up. And it works, Sebastian's sweaty knees gliding across Kurt's glossy wood floor … for about two feet. His knees eventually dry and begin to chafe, and he's forced to stop again.

"Oh, no! Preppy! And you were doing so good!"

"Sorry … Master. I … just need … a second …"

"Hurry up! We've only got about five hours for you to perfect this!"

Sebastian gives genuine crawling a try, lifting his legs from his hips out to the side instead of straight in front, squeezing his cheeks to aid in keeping the plug put. It's excruciating crawling this way, but it's effective. But he knows his knees are gonna look like galactic marbles before they ever leave the house.

Kurt tilts his head as he watches his sub waddle around the floor like a constipated turtle. "You know, this seems like it might be difficult for you. Why don't I give you some incentive?"

Sebastian doesn't know what incentive could mean. It could be a swat on the ass with a cane, cigarette burns on the backs of his thighs, or a bigger plug (God forbid). He tenses immediately in anticipation, nearly shooting the plug across the room. Something fleshy hits his lips, but with a stiff core, like Kurt's fingers. He opens his mouth on instinct and it forces itself inside. It hits the back of his throat, sits on his tongue, and Sebastian salivates.

He knows that taste, its musky odor. It's Kurt's cock, shoved in his mouth like that plug is shoved up his ass. Kurt pulls it out of his sub's mouth just as quickly as he stuck it in, and something in Sebastian's head clicks.

Pleasure. Kurt's pleasure. Punishment for Sebastian, no matter how it's meant, is still for Kurt's pleasure. Sebastian needs to make himself an instrument of that pleasure.

"Do you like the taste of that, preppy?" Kurt says, stepping out of Sebastian's reach. "Well, if you want it, you're going to have to come get it."

Sebastian looks up only as far as Kurt's feet and focuses on making it to him. The goal? Getting Kurt's cock in his mouth again. This changes the game considerably. Instead of falling victim to the burning in his ass, he uses it as fuel. It becomes a lightning rod, igniting deep inside him with every crawl, pushing him forward. Some muscles loosen, others tighten, his legs and arms shaking but his knees and elbows steady.

Kurt speeds backwards, laughing. "Okay, preppy! I think you've got it!" Sebastian keeps going, backing Kurt up against the bed.

Kurt falls backward.

And Sebastian makes his move.

This isn't like the doorway. Kurt specifically said, "If you want it, you're going to have to come get it." And as far as Sebastian is concerned, that's an ironclad agreement.

Sebastian wants Kurt's cock.

He caught up to him.

Now he gets it.

Sebastian climbs to his knees, nuzzles his nose into the soft curls in Kurt's lap, and then takes his Master in his mouth.

"Se-Sebastian!" Kurt cries. "Sebastian! Holy fuck!"

Sebastian sucks, taking Kurt to his throat with every bob of his head, holding his hips with his hands, keeping him in place.

And Kurt doesn't say no.

He winds his fingers in his sub's hair and pulls, but not to get his sub off him. To urge him on. He lays back on the bed, opens his legs wide, and let's Sebastian have him. It was as clear to Kurt as it was to Sebastian – a definite cause and effect.

If you do this, then you get this.

It's a win-win for both of them.

This is a reward.

Something about the heat building in Sebastian's rear makes everything more urgent. He can feel it radiate to his thighs and his knees. It should also be making him miserable but it's not. There's something sensual about this burn now; the constant fluxuation of it when the plug moves out a hair then pops back in, becoming a sliver cold for just a second; the way it's uncomfortable, but makes his cock throb. The only outlet he has for this sensation is his Dom's cock in his mouth, and that's where his attention goes, that's where the drive takes him.

"Oh, God," Kurt moans, letting go of Sebastian's head to claw at the blanket on both sides of him. "I should have done this to you a while ago!"

Sebastian lavishes attention on the cock in his mouth in an attempt to divert it away from the burning in his ass when it becomes too intense. He can't help that sometimes he stops and groans with the head of Kurt's leaking member in his mouth, making Kurt grab Sebastian's hair and buck up for more.

"Man, this stopping and starting is killing me!" Kurt growls. "I wasn't particularly in the mood to edge today!"

"Then … urgh … don't, Master."

"What do you suggest?"

"Urgh! Fuck me … Master."

Kurt stares at Sebastian - at the hungry look on his face, the lust blown eyes, the insatiable desire - stunned momentarily, and then laughs. "You know, you're not supposed to be enjoying this! When I said that earlier, I was being sarcastic! This is punishment! Not an aphrodisiac!"

"I'm … I'm sorry, Master." Sebastian squirms, not to get the plug out, but to have Kurt inside him. "It just … I don't know … I guess that I … oh God … please! Please, oh God … please …"

"You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes, Master! Please!"

"Show me," Kurt says.

Sebastian sighs. It comes out a whimper. Show me is both a blessing and a curse. Show Kurt. Show him how badly he wants it, how desperate he is to be fucked. But getting Kurt's cock isn't contingent on whether or not Sebastian puts on a good show.

It depends solely on how generous Kurt wants to be.

But that doesn't matter. Nothing matters but having Kurt, so Sebastian had better perform or else he'll end up kneeling on a pile of rice in the corner, his dick hard as a rock, with this bulbous thing up his ass, and no relief.

Sebastian shimmies back a few feet so Kurt can see him – all of him. Slowly, carefully, Sebastian reaches for himself, reaches for his body. He starts at his shoulders, his collar bones, and outlines them with his fingertips. His Master loves this part of him – his broad shoulders. When they have vanilla sex, that's usually where Kurt starts, with his fingers or the tip of his tongue, lapping at every inch of the skin stretched taut there. He moves down his chest, fighting to concentrate on the feel of his own fingers on his skin and block out the burning in his ass, keeping his eyes locked on his Master as he gasps and moans at his own attempts at turning himself on. If he closes his eyes or looks away he loses.

And in this particular game, Kurt doesn't give second chances.

Staying still is torture. His arm trembles as his hand strokes his cock, cradles his balls. He reaches back for that plug in his ass. When his Master doesn't stop him, grinning like a leopard, waiting to see what he'll do, Sebastian continues. He grabs the end and turns it, exposing areas that had gone unscathed with ointment and renewing the burn. He gives it a tug, and Kurt shakes his head.

"No, no, no, preppy. No taking it out."

"I'm … not … Master …" Sebastian stutters, giving it another twist and then pushing it back in, slamming it into his own ass. "Oh, God!" He pulls it and pushes again, his lower lip trembling at the wave of new heat and the burn that makes him want to crawl out of his skin. "Oh God oh God oh God!"

"Does it still burn, preppy?"

"Yes," Sebastian answers between his teeth. "Yes! Oh God! Yes! It burns!"

Sebastian can't stop his hips from moving. He grinds down on it, but the short, squat plug isn't long enough to reach what Sebastian wants to hit. But it doesn't have to. The heat and the cold and the tingle radiate like the buzzing of a vibrator to just the right spot.

And Kurt knows.

"That's my cue," Kurt says, getting up off the bed and walking towards him. Sebastian fucks himself in earnest, certain Kurt's about to take away his ability to do so.

And he's right … sort of.

He flips Sebastian over with the ease of a farmhand hogtying a submissive pig, pulling his hands away from the plug and holding them by the wrists. Sebastian mews now that his Master has taken his toy away. Yes, he wanted Kurt up his ass more than anything, but he figured that plug was all he was getting, and he was so close to cumming.

So close.

Of course, cumming without permission comes with its own set of consequences, but at this point, wrecked out of his mind, Sebastian had already surrendered himself to the prospects.

Kurt ties Sebastian's arms behind his back with black bondage tape, almost the entire roll from wrist to elbows. He pushes his face down to the floor, on his knees, with his ass in the air.

"I have to say, for a Warbler, your performance skills need a little work … but I'd say that deserves something."

"Oh, thank you!" Sebastian breathes in relief, scooting his ass higher when he hears Kurt unzip his fly. "Thank you, Master! Thank you! Oh God oh God oh God …"

"Calm down, preppy!" Kurt chuckles, fumbling to get a condom over his slick cock. "Or I'll never get in you before you pass out!"

"Oh … oh God," Sebastian whines, his body shuddering beneath his Master's touch as Kurt pulls out the plug, frightened that he'll blow his load before Kurt ever enters him. "Please … please, Master … please …"

Sebastian has no idea where inside him this is coming from, but it feels right. He doesn't have the strength to be smug, not here. There's no conceit anywhere in him. He just prays Kurt takes pity on him before he has an epic meltdown.

Kurt likes listening to his sub beg, especially this new variety of desperate, pathetic pleading. Kurt could cum from this – hearing Sebastian beg. He should let himself climax on his sub's ass, and then leave Sebastian to deal with the fallout of a ruined orgasm.

But he can't.

Because every opportunity to pound Sebastian's ass is a blessing.

How many of these blessings does he have left?

Only time will tell.

Kurt pushes inside him with no pretense and begins to fuck. Sebastian bows low to the ground and Kurt snaps his hips faster, hitting him so violently they both see stars – blood slipping away, vision going dark. Kurt only vaguely feels the Icy Hot coating the inside of Sebastian's ass through the condom, but that doesn't deter him. The slip and slide of lubrication inside Sebastian's ass, the overwhelming heat, his constant shaking and repeated chants of "OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGod …" speeding until they tumble from his lips in nonsensical grunts and incoherent mutters more than make up for it.

Sebastian goes silent, his body vibrating like a volcano about to erupt, and Kurt slams harder – hard enough to hurt under normal circumstances – rising up on one knee for traction, the strength of his thrusts nearly propelling Sebastian across the floor.

"I'm cumming … I'm cumming … I'm cumming … I'm cumming …" Kurt mumbles, and then his world goes dark. Whether his vision blacks out on him or he closes his eyes, he doesn't know, but his body has suddenly taken on a mind of its own, trembling in blissful, mind-bending ways he's never experienced before.

Sebastian spasms like he's having a seizure, his whole body participating in the wealth of cum propelling from his cock until he's completely squeezed dry and breathless. When Kurt sees the puddle of cum Sebastian leaves on the floor, he rolls on the floor choking with laughter.

"Jesus Christ! I didn't know you had that in you!"

Sebastian heaves a few breaths, then spits out a laugh himself, wheezing with eyes pinched shut. "Oh my God! That was the worst pun ever, Master!"

"Hush, I'm brilliant." Kurt pants, fighting to catch his breath. "I haven't done anything like that in a million years! God!" He slaps Sebastian's red ass. "I love y- …" Kurt stares at Sebastian, wide eyed, stumbling over his own tongue to stop a slip up from becoming a train wreck.

Jesus Christ, Kurt! Get your act together!

But Sebastian, wrapped in the adrenaline from that sensational orgasm spiraling through his system and its contrasting onslaught of exhaustion, doesn't seem to hear. He's panting, cock twitching, rolling his wrists behind his back, locked tight by the bondage tape.

Kurt swallows and tries again.

"God, preppy. I loved that. Jesus Christ."

Crawling is only slightly easier now than it was before, but only because Sebastian is used to the sensation of hot and cold in his ass.

Driving over here sucked. That goes without saying.

Kurt didn't let up. He was enjoying this too much. He took the liberty of reapplying the Icy Hot and the soap, then had his sub wear the tightest possible jock he could find so his manic need to touch and kiss and fuck has come back with a vengeance. And Sebastian hasn't come up with a way to combat it. He can't think of anything that will shove it away other than sex.

Luckily, there's definitely a chance of getting that here.

Kurt makes his normal rounds, then sits in his seat at the table nearest the stage. From the second his ass hits his chair, Sebastian's there, winding between his legs, rubbing against his shins, whimpering and begging for attention.

"Ooo …" Kurt grins, patting his sub's ass especially hard, knowing what that will do, "my little boy's needy tonight."

Sebastian doesn't understand why this burn in his ass makes him react this way. He gets why it would make him restless, but why the fuck does it make him so damn horny? It makes his entire body tactilely sensitive, but instead of it being annoying, he needs it. He wants to touch and be touched, especially by Kurt. For the first time since he's been given the designation of 'puppy', he actually feels like one, nuzzling his head underneath Kurt's hand, begging to be petted.

"What is it, boy, hmm?" Kurt asks, looking down at his sub pleading for attention. "What do you want?"

Sebastian doesn't know where he finds the courage. He's pretty sure he'll get slapped for what he's about to do, or worse. But what's worse than being figged? He's confident Kurt can come up with something. Kurt seems to know more creative ways to torment the human body than Sebastian could ever dream up on his own. Is that a talent Kurt has naturally? Or did he have to study it? Maybe read the journals of inquisitors from the Middle Ages to the present time.

Is there a course on that somewhere?

If there is, Kurt would be qualified to teach it.

Sebastian kneels high with his hands on Kurt's thighs. He pushes gently to open them wider. Then, he lowers his head and licks Kurt's crotch over his jeans.

Sitting beside them, watching this whole thing go down, Elliott can't believe his eyes.

"God, you're hungry. Aren't you, preppy?" Kurt remarks, and Sebastian growls.

Kurt grabs the arm of a bartender passing by. "Turn down the lights. Turn up the music. Put on the strobe."

"Ugh! You're going to do that here?" Elliott grumbles, but turns his seat so he can get a better view.

"Like you haven't." Kurt shuts his eyes and tilts his head back while his sub undoes his fly. "You don't have to watch, you know."

"Oh … I'm watchin'." Elliott props his feet up on the table to hide the swiftly growing erection he's getting. "That doesn't mean I'm not opposed."

"Like I give a sh-"

Kurt's sentence drops off there and he goes silent – completely still and silent, his face relaxed, his eyes shut, his mouth open around an unfulfilled moan. Elliott's never seen that before – not from Kurt.

God. Whatever Kurt's sub has got going on, Elliott has to find a way to get himself a taste.

But after a while, as hot as it is, Elliott can't watch any more. This is the first time in his life that witnessing Kurt ply his exhibitionist tendencies seems too personal, and it's all because of that fucking kid - Kurt's feelings for that prep school punk kneeling between his legs, the ones he won't admit to having, but he can't fool Elliott.

And it makes Elliott burn with jealousy. Elliott has never been able to make Kurt surrender to a blowjob the way Sebastian can.

Maybe they are meant to be together. Maybe Elliott has been underestimating this kid.

That makes Elliott resent him even more.

Elliott mutters something about needing to see to one of the playrooms right before Kurt cums. He can't see Kurt's o-face, not with this kid. He drops his feet heavily to the floor, expecting at least Sebastian to jump, but neither of them do. They're not even here. They're in their own little world.

And that world doesn't contain Elliott.

When Kurt comes down from his orgasm, he doesn't realize Elliott has left.

"So," Kurt says, panting hard, laughing because he can't remember the last time a blowjob took this much effort to recover from, "have we learned our lesson?"

"Yes, Master," Sebastian says, breathing just as hard when he reaches his Dom's mouth.

"And that is?"

"That I shouldn't abuse the privilege of your dick in my mouth, Master?" Sebastian answers with his lips hovering compulsively around Kurt's, as if the need to kiss him is so intense, he can't bear to be as far as an inch away.

"Oh, abuse it all you want, preppy," Kurt replies with a grin. "But now you know the consequences."

"Well, then, may I abuse it some more, Master?" Sebastian asks, raining pleading little licks and pecks over Kurt's chin, gently sucking his Dom's lower lip into his mouth. "Pretty please?" he whispers, rutting against Kurt's leg. "I promise I'll be good, Master. So, so good …"

"You may, preppy." Kurt slides down into his chair, getting comfortable for his return ride to paradise. "Be my guest."