ficlet: hand over control


This time, Blaine is on his back, hands cuffed above his head to the slats in the headboard. Between his lips is a red rubber ball gag, the straps fastened tightly around the back of his head. His eyes are wide, clear, focusing on everything Kurt does as he sinks his mouth down around him, Blaine’s back going taut as he tosses his head back and moans around the rubber.


warnings: slut-shaming, as previously stated, barebacking (not mentioned but implied)


Things gradually grow from the first time that Kurt gags Blaine, silencing the normal litany of praise- and swearwords and quieting everything down to muffled moans and grunts. Blaine likes to be told how good he is (which is funny, considering that it’s what got them where they are now) and Kurt’s only too glad to heap word upon word of praise and good boys every time their dynamic switches from teenage boys in love to a broken, sometimes-scared boy ready to give up complete control, one who needs to be told that he’s perfect and amazing and worth it.

This time, Blaine is on his back, hands cuffed above his head to the slats in the headboard. Between his lips is a red rubber ball gag, the straps fastened tightly around the back of his head. His eyes are wide, clear, focusing on everything Kurt does as he sinks his mouth down around him, Blaine’s back going taut as he tosses his head back and moans around the rubber. Kurt always thinks he looks more gorgeous with saliva gathered in the corners of his mouth and dripping down his chin.

Their eyes lock as Kurt works him open with one longer finger, then two and three, Blaine’s hips pushing up and seeking more when those fingers curl and twist and seek out just the right spot. Kurt’s eyes are voice are dark every time he murmurs, “Good boy, yes. That’s it. Open up a little more, c’mon, sweet thing, I know you can do it…” and Kurt can’t get enough of the way Blaine’s eyes flutter shut and his throat works as he swallows futilely, a muffled-sounding groan rumbling from within his chest. “God, you look so hot right now, baby boy. So perfect and willing to let me use you.”

When he slides his fingers out, reaching for the lube, Blaine’s legs spread automatically wider, his hips tilting up to give Kurt a perfect view of the slight gape of his hole, lube glistening on dark skin. Kurt slicks himself up, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to muffle his own groan, and settles between Blaine’s legs.

Blaine looks at him expectantly when Kurt pauses, head raised up and eyes widened a fraction of an inch more. He shifts his arms, the metal of the cuffs clinking against the dark wood of the headboard, and Kurt runs fingers down Blaine’s inner arm and across his jaw, rubbing over stubble and trails of saliva until he finally reaches the gag. Kurt keeps his eyes on Blaine’s as he traces over the ball, then presses down on Blaine’s bottom lip with his thumb.

"Perfect," he breathes, feeling his cock twitch. And it is—like a work of amazingly filthy art. Blaine flutters his lashes again, tilting his head down as if to say thank you, Sir.

He pushes fully in without warning and this time Blaine’s cries are a little louder, a bit clearer as his back arches and his legs hook around Kurt’s thighs. Kurt knows that by now Blaine would be panting, begging yes, so good, fuck, yes. He’ll take the silence for the image of Blaine with a gag, his hair in disarray and his spread open and bare like a waiting canvas, ready for Kurt to make his mark.

Blaine’s eyes have fallen shut, his breaths exhaled sharply through his nose. Kurt slides out and back in, shivering and moaning at the drag of Blaine’s hole, the clenching of it around him as Blaine shifts and moves his hips into the thrust.

In the absence of Blaine’s voice, Kurt provides his own as he lets himself get lost in the sound of their flesh smacking together, Blaine’s grunted whines, the clink of the cuffs as he jerks his arms forward only to have them held back. He’s powerless, helpless, and something surges inside Kurt as he fucks forward harder, the slap ringing out sharp and clear this time. Blaine clenches down around him again and Kurt moans, his arms beginning to tremble where they hold him up.

When he speaks it’s like it pours out of him, unstoppable. “God, look at you, so fucking desperate for it,” he pants, snapping his hips quick in succession once, twice, three times, jolting Blaine’s body and the bed. “You’re such a slut, willing to do anything to be stuffed. I’m surprised you’re still this tight, shit.”

It’s different than what they’re used to and Kurt can’t help but seek out Blaine’s eyes, get the okay, and when hazel meets blue he sees nothing but need. It’s all the clearance he needs to support his weight with one hand, grabbing onto Blaine’s hair and yanking his head roughly back. Blaine’s moan is strangled as Kurt sucks a mark into the hollow of his throat, moving to his shoulder, where he bites down roughly.

"You fucking filthy slut," he growls, laving his tongue across the reddening skin. Already, too soon, he feels the rush of orgasm beginning to creep in, the heat building low in his stomach. "You like that? Just laying there and taking it with your legs spread like the whore you know you are?" He places both palms flat on the bed again and pulls out to the head of his cock, pausing to look down, ignoring Blaine’s own cock where it’s twitching and leaking pre-come over his stomach. He watches the slow slide of his cock back in, marvels at the spread of Blaine’s cheeks and the stretch of his hole. This time Blaine’s whine is unmistakable and when Kurt looks up Blaine’s head is tossed back, brow furrowed as he squeezes his eyes tightly shut, saliva sliding fresh down his chin.

He finally wraps his hand around Blaine’s cock, squeezing, and Blaine sobs in relief, tugging harder at the cuffs. His balls tighten and he’s close, sliding his eyes shut briefly as he works Blaine’s cock. “Fuck. Gonna come inside that tight little ass of yours. Make you mine, make you feel this for days so you’ll know who you belong to.”

Blaine comes quickly with a yell, his body arching up and staying bowstring taut as his cock pulses in Kurt’s hand, come streaking across his chest to cover a nipple and drip down his heaving abdomen and slide down his sides towards the sheets. He contracts around Kurt, body still working through his orgasm, and it’s only a few thrusts later that Kurt comes with a keening moan, hips flush against Blaine’s ass.

Kurt pulls out slowly when he’s gathered his senses back, blinking against the fading spots in his vision. He reaches up with shaking hands to undo the cuffs, Blaine’s arms falling limply to the bed, and gently lifts Blaine’s head up to undo the buckle on the back of the gag, slipping it out of Blaine’s mouth.

“You okay?” he murmurs softly as Blaine works his jaw, drawing his lips into his mouth to wet them. He turns to look at Kurt, sweat glistening on his forehead, and smiles, reaching a shaking hand up to cup Kurt’s cheek.

“God. It was so…so…,” he says, stopping.

“Much?” Kurt asks, wincing.

Blaine vehemently shakes his head, propping himself up on his elbows and leaning in to press his lips chastely against Kurt’s. “No. God, no. It was perfect, baby. Thank you.”

Kurt tangles their fingers together and smiles, sitting up. “Like you,” he replies. “And you’re welcome.”

Blaine rolls his eyes but says no more, tugging Kurt down until they’re laying side-by-side. “Let’s rest a few minutes,” he finally says. “I feel like my arms are going to fall off.”

“You’ll let me know if anything becomes too much?” Kurt asks, still tracing his thumb over Blaine’s. “I didn’t mean to get so…like that earlier.”

“That’s what my safeword is for.” Blaine turns to smile at Kurt, his eyes crinkling up slightly in the corners. “I promise, I’ll let you know.”

Kurt breathes out a sigh of relief. “Good.” They’re still new to this, and sometimes things can get frightening, but he knows they can do it—they’ve come this far, haven’t they? It just takes practice.

And, maybe, a few choice phrases as well.

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