Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make no money from this. If I did own Glee,Kurt and Blaine would be having really kinky gay sex by now.
A/N: This is the long overdue epilogue for Breaking Point, but can be read and enjoyed as a one-shot.
The other week a girl very nearly got caught reading this story and I would like to dedicate this epilogue to her. She can be found on tumblr as polytheneann.
Though Blaine has gotten used to attending endless fashion events in the three years since Kurt had finally been promoted to style editor at GQ, he's never quite felt as though he fit in. Sure, he's sometimes able to find a few fellow literary types scattered amongst the fashionmongers and stick figure models, but they usually end up with Blaine at the bar while Kurt talked to anyone and everyone.
Blaine has gotten to know the bartenders at these functions pretty well by now and is not surprised to find that Natalie has his usual whiskey seven prepared and set down in front of him before his ass hits the barstool.
"Thanks Nat," Blaine flashes her a quick smile, taking a deep drink from the glass. Natalie doesn't miss the action.
"That kind of night, eh?" Natalie pats him on the arm. "Take it easy soldier, we don't want another W incident." Blaine grimaces and she moves away to help other customers.
It hadn't been one of Blaine's finer moments. His editor had just dropped him after his latest book didn't sell as well as expected. Blaine wanted to stay home and wallow in self-pity while Kurt went to the W gala, but Kurt was having none of it and forced Blaine to attend. Kurt had promised to not be gone too long when he left Blaine at the bar, but two hours and almost half a bottle of vodka later Blaine had hade enough.
Blaine barely remembers the night, which is probably for the best, but the headlines splashed across the society pages for the next three weeks and Kurt refusing to sleep with him for most of that time told him all he needed to know about what happened.
Blaine's eyes roam the crowd, finally finding his slender husband chatting with a few designers in front of a group of photographers. He watches as Kurt let out a laugh, smiling brightly at one of the designers.
It isn't real though—this is Kurt's public laugh, his public smile, it isn't the smile Blaine loved the most. Kurt claims that his real smile is too toothy and it made his eyes scrunch up in a way that makes him look much older than he is. Blaine loves the little creases that smile brings to the edges of Kurt's crystal blue eyes and made the mistake of telling him so. That comment earned him another week on the couch.
Blaine sighs, cradling his drink in his hand as he watches his husband chat with the designers amiably. While Kurt could act the stone-cold editor of his idol, Ms. Wintour, he preferred to maintain a less icy persona and at least pretend to be nice. It earned Kurt special privileges with designers and they respected him much more for it. That wasn't to say Kurt couldn't be a hard-ass, he was merciless when he needed to be.
One of the designers Kurt is speaking with slides his arm around Kurt's back, not an uncommon gesture when posing for the photographers, what Blaine doesn't expect is for the guy, Daniel, he thinks, to slid his hand down and over Kurt's ass. What Blaine expects even less is for Kurt not to react in the slightest. He doesn't pull away, not even his face gives the game away. Blaine grips the glass in his hand to the point where it almost breaks. He downs the rest of the contents of his drink and firmly orders another one. Fine, if Kurt wants to play like that, Blaine isn't going to control himself either.
Blaine's plans of getting rip-roaring drunk are shattered when Kurt slides up to him as he finishes his third drink. Kurt slips his mouth over Blaine's ear and down to his cheek before their lips meet.
"You've been drinking," Kurt states as he pulls his mouth from Blaine's. Blaine doesn't respond and turns his eyes back to the glass sitting in front of him. Kurt gazes at his husband for a few moments before he pulls him up from the bar. "Come on, let's go home." Kurt moves away from the bar and Blaine leaves enough money on the counter to cover his three drinks at least twice over. Natalie deserves whatever she can get for putting up with these people.
The chilly New York winter air pierces Blaine's lungs as Kurt pulls him outside. A car waits for them, but Kurt waves it off.
"We don't live that far away Peter," Kurt insists. "Besides, I think the fresh air will be good for Blaine." Kurt drags Blaine away from the car and Peter looks as though he wants to say something, but thinks better of it.
The couple wanders down the street together, Kurt's arm linked through his. Even in his slightly-less-than-sober haze Blaine is fuming. After at least ten minutes of walking Kurt won't shut up about Dan and how funny he is and how talented he is and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
They're only a few blocks from their building and Blaine should really, really wait, but he can't because Kurt won't shut the fuck up and before he knows what he's doing he's dragging Kurt into an alley and shoving him against a dirty concrete wall.
Kurt vaguely attempts to protest, but his voice is muffled as Blaine's mouth closes over his. The kiss isn't sweet; it's everything that hurts. It's teeth and biting and spit is dribbling down Kurt's chin and Blaine is growling and pressing Kurt so hard into the wall that he's quite sure he's going to be stuck there forever. Blaine's hands fist in Kurt's immaculate hair and he's pulling Kurt's head back, smacking it against the wall behind him.
Blaine's mouth sucks hard at his neck, leaving angry red marks and impressions of his teeth as they scrape over milky white skin. Kurt's neck will be a mess of bruises the next day and somehow that just turns Blaine on even more.
He's never felt more alive as he grinds his erection into Kurt's thigh with Kurt's matching erection pressing right back. Kurt's letting out these breathy little moans as Blaine sinks his teeth into Kurt's neck, almost hard enough to draw blood.
Blaine's hands fall to Kurt's ass, his fingers pressing dark bruises into the flesh as he grips Kurt's sweet ass.
"You are mine," Blaine snaps as he bites Kurt's ear. Kurt howls a high-pitched moan, leaning into the sensation. "This ass," Blaine growls, tightening his grip on Kurt's ass, "belongs to me."
Kurt nods his head furiously, biting his lip as he tries to thrust his ass back into Blaine's harsh grip.
"No one else is allowed to touch this," Blaine snarls. "You got that?"
"Yes, yes, oh, yes." Kurt pants. "Blaine, please, I'm yours, just, please."
"Please what?" Blaine's voice lowers at least an octave and he stars into Kurt's eyes with an intensity that makes Kurt want to come on the spot.
"Anything, anything. Please. I'm yours, just yours," Kurt pleads. His hips rock a little as Blaine presses his leg against Kurt's hard cock. Kurt bites his lip, the desperation evident in his eyes and Blaine takes pity on him, and a hand detaches from Kurt's ass and slides over his erection. Blaine forces his tongue into Kurt's hot mouth, their breath mingling in the cool air creating little puffs of white clouds.
Blaine pulls away after a few moments, his breath coming in ragged pants.
"Get on your knees," Blaine demands.
"This is a four thousand dollar suit, I'm not kneeling down in an alleyway, just because yo—," Kurt's sentence is cut off when Blaine grab's Kurt by his hair and yanks Kurt towards him.
"Get on your fucking knees, now," Blaine snarls. He pushes Kurt down until he's settled on his knees. Blaine braces his arms against the building wall behind Kurt while Kurt undoes Blaine's pants and pulls out the hard, heavy cock straining to be released.
Kurt teases Blaine's cock for a minute, letting his hand loosely slide over the shaft.
"Mouth." Blaine bucks his hips and Kurt gazes up at him, keeping eye contact as his tongue flicks out, barely tasting the pre-come dripping from the tip. His tongue wraps around the head and he's sucking Blaine into his mouth.
Blaine releases a feral groan that only spurs Kurt on. Blaine was right, all those years ago when the thought of Kurt's mouth around his dick was only a fantasy. Kurt was an expert cocksucker. Blaine supposed that being together for fifteen years only enhanced Kurt's abilities as he had long since learned exactly where to place his tongue, exactly how hard to suck and when, to get just the right reaction out of Blaine.
Kurt's mouth teases him further, not quite bringing him all the way in, not sucking as hard as Blaine knows he can and Blaine knows that Kurt is doing this on purpose, doing this to spite him. Blaine doesn't care though, he wants Kurt and he wants Kurt to know that he belongs to Blaine, that Blaine is the only man he is ever allowed to do this for.
One of his hands slides down from the wall and into Kurt's now thoroughly messed up hair. His fingers twist in the soft strands and his grip changes. He holds Kurt's head in his hand and shoves his cock as far into Kurt's mouth as he can. Kurt chokes slightly at first, but is able to relax his throat enough by Blaine's second thrust and all he can do is stare up into the dangerous glint in Blaine's eyes and take it.
Blaine's hips pump harshly and Kurt tries his best to continue sucking and licking at the cock hammering into his throat. His lips are stretched around the hard dick and when he groans around Blaine's erection, he loses it. Blaine spasms and shouts Kurt's name as his come shoots into Kurt's throat and Kurt just lets him.
When Blaine's finished, Kurt carefully cleans him up and puts his dick back in his pants. He slides his hands up Blaine's shaking legs as he stands up and pulls Blaine into a softer, slower kiss.
Blaine's heart is still racing and the image of Kurt sucking him off in a dark alley is not going to leave his mind anytime soon, but Kurt's tongue is in his mouth and he can taste himself and god if that isn't enough to get him going again.
Kurt slouches against the wall behind him, for once a few inches short than his husband, and Blaine reaches out, grabbing Kurt by the jaw and lowers his mouth onto Kurt's. Kurt moans into the kiss, his arms folding around Blaine's neck and he's rutting against Blaine's hip. Kurt still hasn't gotten off.
Blaine smirks cruelly as he pulls away from Kurt and drags him out of the alleyway, not particularly caring how they look.
"Wha—," Kurt starts.
"We're only a couple blocks from home and I'd rather not have an audience when I fuck the living daylights out of you," Blaine harshly whispers into Kurt's ear. Kurt bites back a moan and lets Blaine lead them down the street.
A few minutes later the boys stumble into the elevator of their posh apartment building. Blaine smashes his hand against the button for the penthouse and stares at Kurt with a hungry expression while they wait for the doors to close.
No sooner do the doors touch and Blaine slams Kurt into them, his mouth meeting Kurt's. Blaine undoes the intricate buttons of Kurt's coat as Kurt attempts to reciprocate and Blaine has the coat pulled open in under thirty seconds, hands already moving over the Kurt's shirt. He fumbles with a few of the buttons and gets impatient ripping it open.
"Four thousand dollar suit Blaine!" Kurt screeches, but any further protestations die in Kurt's throat because Blaine is kissing him again. He's kissing Kurt in a needy, should-have-been-fucking-you-in-the-ass-five-minutes-ago that makes Kurt forget how to stand up and Blaine's almost coming in his pants.
The elevator dings, doors sliding open and Blaine keeps pushing until the doors are open wide enough that Kurt stumbles back and Blaine is literally ripping Kurt's clothes off. Before either of them knows what's happening Kurt is naked and on his back on the marble floor of their expensively decorated foyer.
Blaine's mouth sears a trail of angry bruises down Kurt's stomach and he slips his fingers in his mouth briefly before reaching down and roughly inserts two of them into Kurt's ass.
Kurt cries out in pain that turns into a moan when Blaine's mouth sinks onto his aching erection. Even though it hurts, and god does it hurt, he fucks himself hard on the two fingers pounding into his ass.
Blaine is doing his best, his absolute best to mark the man he loves as his, inside and out, so he doesn't even think twice about exactly how much in will hurt Kurt when he shoves a third finger all the way in next to the other two.
Kurt's spine arches off the floor and he stops breathing for a few seconds, his eyes wide staring at the small crystal chandelier above him and then his hips are bucking. Blaine sucks Kurt all the way down into his throat and curls his fingers in that delicious way that oh just barely scratches over his prostate and it's too much and so badly not enough that he grinds his hips down, forcing all three fingers to press harshly against that sweet little bundle of nerves and he's about to come when Blaine pulls his mouth off Kurt's cock and his fingers out of Kurt's ass.
Kurt whines, screaming for Blaine to continue, but he can't form coherent words. He's so close, but so badly not close enough that orgasm is just a touch away, but Blaine won't give it to him. Instead, Blaine turns his head and bites into the soft skin of Kurt's thigh. He sucks hard and fast, his tongue lapping at the bruised flesh before he moves along, sucking mark after mark into Kurt's beautiful skin.
"BLAINE! For fuck's sake! Please!" Kurt screams, his fists twisting and slamming into the marble.
"Get on your knees." This time Kurt doesn't complain, he rolls over and Blaine helps pull him up so his ass is bobbing in the air and Blaine is kneeling behind him. Blaine undoes the top button of his pants and pulls down the zipper faster than is probably safe, but his cock is finally free and he's so fucking hard that it hurts.
He rubs his dick around Kurt's spit-covered, stretched hole and pre-come leaks out all around the tight little opening. Blaine leans down, his tongue swiping across Kurt's quivering hole and he's licking up the little dribble of pre-come that he's left there.
He shoves his tongue past the tight ring of muscle and Kurt screams, pressing his ass back against Blaine's face as far as he can. Blaine's hands grip Kurt's ass, spreading the cheeks as far as he can, keeping the man's hips in place as he continues his oral assault into the wanton body below him.
"Fuck! Blaine! Blaine, oh god, oh please, Blaine Blaine B-b-blaine!" Kurt cries out and Blaine can't take it any longer. He pulls his mouth from Kurt's ass and spits into his hand, slathering the saliva over his dick and then he's pressing in, all the way in, in one swift movement that leaves both men breathless.
Kurt's ass is on fire and Blaine knows it, but when Kurt screams for Blaine to fuck him, he does just so. His fingers curl into Kurt's hips, right around the bone; fingers digging in so hard that Blaine's blunt fingernails leave little red crescents.
Blaine pounds into the man below him and when he repositions his hands there are already handprints forming, purple and angry under Kurt's skin.
He slams into Kurt, not caring how rough he is or if Kurt's enjoying it and that fact alone turns Kurt on more than he could ever say and somehow Kurt's coming again and his ass clenches so fucking hard around Blaine that he sees white spots at the edges of his vision as his orgasm tears from his body.
Blaine stills against Kurt, their breath coming in harsh pants. After a few minutes of leaning against Kurt's ever-weakening body, Blaine pulls out and slides to the floor, pulling Kurt down into his arms.
Kurt's eyes are still glazed over and he doesn't seem to be all quite there so Blaine's fingers dance along Kurt's sweat-covered skin over the numerous dark bruises littered over his body.
By the time his fingers slip over the multiple sets of bruises on Kurt's hips, Kurt has come down, comfortable to rest in Blaine's arms. Blaine presses a kiss to Kurt's swollen, bruised lips, softer and sweeter than ever before and Kurt rests his head on Blaine's chest.
"You just destroyed a four thousand dollar suit," Kurt states bluntly. Blaine chuckles and Kurt feels the laughter before he hears it.
"I'll buy you a new one." Blaine says as he presses a kiss to Kurt's head. Kurt stretches a little bit, hissing at the pain radiating from his abused ass.
"Oh god Blaine," Kurt groans, "I'm not going to be able to walk properly for a week."
Blaine looks down at Kurt again eyeing his handiwork and appreciating how easily the other man's skin bruises.
"A funny walk isn't the only thing you're going to have to hide."
"Who says I want to hide it?" Kurt asks, his innocent eyes piercing Blaine's. "I'm perfectly okay with the world knowing exactly who I belong to."
Blaine grins at that.
"As long as they know that you belong to me too." Kurt rolls on top of Blaine planting a passionate kiss on Blaine's lips and he thinks that suits him just fine.