A/N: So I wrote this thing. Warnings for... teacher/student/age difference, D/s-like elements (but not D/s), roleplay? Please leave me some feedback :-)

Blaine could feel the muscles in his neck and shoulders tense as he approached the choir room. He slowed when he reached the door, craning his neck back and forth to assure the hallway was clear, instinctively reaching up to tighten the knot of his Dalton tie and smooth the lapels of his jacket. Convinced that he was as alone as he was going to get, he swallowed down the lump in his throat and stepped through the doorway.

"Close it," a smooth, familiar voice called out immediately.

Blaine startled but recovered quickly, hastily obeying the command. Only after the latch had caught—after the reassuring click of the lock—did he look up.

Kurt stood at the back of the room, his outfit immaculate as usual, leaning casually up against the trophy case and watching Blaine through half-lidded eyes. He smiled at Blaine, slight and secretive, beckoning him forward with the crook of one slender finger.

As Blaine came closer, Kurt straightened to meet him, dipping his head to capture Blaine's lips in a deep, claiming kiss. Blaine returned it eagerly, his hands winding around Kurt's neck to clutch at the back of his hair, body straining to press closer into Kurt's own.

Kurt chuckled as he pulled away. "Did anyone see you coming here?"

Holding his gaze, Blaine slowly shook his head. "No, Mr. Hummel."

"Good," Kurt breathed, drawing him close once more and speaking hot into his ear. "Very good, Blaine."

"What will you do with me?" Blaine dared to ask, lacing his words with a tantalizing hint of innocence, eyes lowered—a tease.

"Hmmmm…" Kurt said, stepping slowly around Blaine's body, carefully deliberating. "You look quite dashing in your uniform."

Blaine blushed but forced his shoulders further back on instinct, the comment reminding him to present himself as properly as possible.

Kurt hummed again, reaching out to toy with Blaine's tie, freeing it from the restraint of his blazer. Suddenly and unmistakably, he yanked it sharply downward.

"Knees!" he all but barked, the sharpness of it causing Blaine to hesitate as he processed the word, then fumble in his haste to drop down.

"Kurt," Blaine couldn't help but murmur, hoping the name was indistinguishable under his breath, ignoring the best he could the pain of the hard floor pressing into his knees. He nuzzled his face just under the waistband of Kurt's pants, inhaling in search of a faint trace of his familiar scent, reveling in the hardness of Kurt's cock jutting into his cheek.

Kurt fisted his curls, pulled his head harshly backwards until Blaine was forced to meet his eyes. "Why are you here, Blaine?" he questioned.

Blaine swallowed thickly. "I talked back to you, Mr. Hummel?" he suggested.


The word was callous and flat—a slap-in-the-face issued from Kurt's lips. "You are here, Anderson," he continued, "for being a tease."

"But sir, I…" Blaine started to protest.

"Shut-up." Kurt ordered, glaring down at him with something entirely other sparkling in his eyes. "The way you strut around the classroom, the way your fingers stroke the piano keys, the way your ass strains in those pants when you turn to write on the board—I'd say it's time you learned some consequences."

"Yes, sir," Blaine said, striving for compliance.

Kurt's eyes narrowed further, his grip on Blaine's hair beginning to hurt now. His free hand flew up suddenly, smarting as it smacked against Blaine's jaw.


Blaine did so, fighting back the urge to rub at his sore scalp when Kurt finally released it in favor of attacking the buttons on his pants. Once opened, he shoved them impatiently half-way down his hips to free his cock, immediately thrusting it between Blaine's lips.

Blaine choked around the mass of him, his eyes tearing, but soon recovered. He worked it around in his mouth, tongue teasing along the length, and forced his throat to relax.

When he looked up, Kurt was watching him carefully, a flicker of concern evident in his eyes. Their gazes locked for a long moment, and then Kurt's hand was back, pressing against the back of Blaine's head as he began to fuck his mouth in earnest.

"How is it, Blaine?" Kurt's voice was strained but taunting. "How does it feel to take it?"

Blaine groaned, an instinctual substitute for answering, and Kurt growled loudly from above him. He knew from experience that his boyfriend wouldn't last long—Kurt had pretty terrible stamina, but as always, Blaine found it hot as fuck.

There was little he could do with his mouth given the way Kurt was working him but try to maintain suction, so he concentrated instead on maneuvering Kurt's underwear down a little further to free his ass, fisting both cheeks and forcing them apart just enough to trail teasing fingertips along his crack.

"Shit, Blaine!" Kurt cried.

Just like that, he was spilling down Blaine's throat. His hands fell from Blaine's head to grip at his shoulders instead as he came down, shuddering with the aftershocks as Blaine licked him clean then pulled off, wiping at his mouth.

"Fuck," Kurt said, and Blaine smiled, giving him a little time.

Sure enough, Kurt regrouped quickly, resuming his previous posture as he fixed his clothes and then the expression on his face—once again glaring at Blaine, still obediently on his knees.

"You appeared to enjoy that a little too much, Blaine. I'm not certain it was adequate punishment."

"But Mr. Hummel, I…"

"I don't want your excuses, boy!" Blaine watched as he looked around, then grabbed the closest few chairs and scooted them together. "Lay down on your stomach, pants down," he said firmly.

Blaine's eyes widened for a moment, catching Kurt's own and watching them waver briefly before he caught himself, fixed his gaze on the floor instead and began to unbuckle his belt. Easily dropping everything to his knees at once, he stumbled onto the chairs, wincing at the press of the cold, unyielding plastic against his hard cock. He wiggled around for a while before giving up and settling for something less than comfort, resting his chin on folded arms that jutted awkwardly halfway in the air, as did his feet. Chancing a glance at Kurt, he noted the darkening of desire in his boyfriend's eyes and decided it was more than worth it.

"God, look at you!" Kurt said, voice heavy with awe. He stepped close, running a hand along the dip of Blaine's back, down over the curve of his butt and lingered there, rubbing gentle circles. Blaine's breath hitched, for one enticing moment believing Kurt was really going to do it—was going to spank him, but instead he parted Blaine's cheeks and stared, one finger teasing at his hole.

"Mr. Hummel, what are you doing?" Blaine asked, voice shaking.

Kurt did smack him then, just once and far too gently, but it was unexpected enough to startle.

"This ass," Kurt emphasized, "this ass needs to be owned, Blaine. Tell me, have you let others have you?"

"H-have me?" Blaine repeated. "I… of course not, sir, what kind of boy do you think I am?"

Kurt scoffed. "I'm not sure I can believe you. You seemed awfully good when you were sucking my cock. It appears that you do that a lot."

Blaine shook his head as vehemently as he could given his current position. "No, Mr. Hummel, I would never…"

"Silence!" Kurt called, and Blaine shut up. "Your lesson starts now, Blaine. I won't tolerate any more sass."

Blaine bit back a retort, his heart rate speeding as Kurt began to dig for something in his pocket. He looked away, wanting to maintain the farce of some mystery even though he was fairly confident now as to how this would proceed.

Sure enough, a few moments later a slick finger pressed against his entrance, sliding inside with little resistance.

"You take it so easily," Kurt said. "Are you really going to tell me that no one's ever done this to you before?"

Blaine moaned, biting at his sleeve as Kurt opened him expertly, and didn't answer. "Please, sir," he said instead, thrusting his ass up against the intrusion.

"Such a slut," Kurt told him, but slid in another finger, "pretending to be such a proper schoolboy in that fucking uniform."

Blaine shifted to direct the crook of Kurt's fingers just where he wanted them; he turned to meet Kurt's eyes and whined, begging for a third.

Kurt complied, mouth still running, clearly loving this as much as Blaine was. "You take it all too well— look at your ass swallowing my fingers! I don't believe you."

This time when he shook his head the action was slight, requiring too much of Blaine's concentration. "Only you," he managed, adding for the rest of my life in his head so it wouldn't really be a lie.

Kurt mirrored the action, his own face smiling haughtily. "You love this. I bet you'd love it even more if I gave you my cock."

A quick glance down assured Blaine that yes, this would indeed be a possibility. In some ways, Kurt had the best. stamina. ever.

"Yes, please… God, Kurt…"

"Mr. Hummel," Kurt corrected sharply.

"I would say this puts us on a first-name basis, wouldn't you?" Blaine shot back, then groaned. "Shit…"

Suddenly Kurt withdrew his fingers, leaving Blaine feeling empty, somehow cold. But Kurt was speaking before he had a chance to complain.

"Turn around, on your back."

Blaine swallowed and did so. It felt different this way, not exactly more comfortable but at least his dick wasn't being horridly squashed, and one leg was able to casually dangle to the side to permit easier access. God, he hoped Kurt would touch him…

He jarred out of his thoughts with a yelp, for the first time a hint of pain spiking through him as Kurt thrust four fingers into him all at once.

"Fuck, please…" he moaned.

Kurt was watching his face and looked like he might actually consider it, but then he smiled prettily. "Hmmm, no, not this time." He climbed awkwardly onto the chair, straddling Blaine's right leg precariously.

"Kur—Mr. Hummel, what are you doing?" Blaine asked in shock.

But Kurt didn't answer, didn't reprimand him. Instead, he swallowed Blaine's cock.

"Oh God…" Blaine managed. "This is certainly the best punishment I…"

Kurt slapped at Blaine's stomach with his free hand, a gesture clearly meant to shut him up.

"Can I? Fuck, Kurt, I can't anymore, just let me…"

Gone so far beyond permission, Blaine threaded both hands through Kurt's hair, eagerly fucking up into his mouth then back down onto his fingers. Kurt's lips were soft and wet and pink wrapped around him, eyes wide and blue and twinkling, set fixedly on Blaine's face, and he knew their game was over.

Unable to hold back any longer, he came with a strangled cry, the joint stimulation causing his pleasure to crest and carry on a little past where it usually ended.

The first thing he noticed when he came down was Kurt rutting frantically against his thigh.

"Whoa, baby…" Blaine reached out a firm hand to grip his hip and halt his movement. "You'll never forgive yourself—or me—if you ruin those pants."

Kurt peered up at him, hair sex-mussed in the adorable way that it so rarely was. "You've got a better idea?" he asked, voice rough.

Blaine's mind raced. "Oh yes," he said finally, reaching down to tug Kurt up and into a kiss—their first since the scene had started. His hand crept down and pressed just-so, watching Kurt's eyes flutter shut, and he moved quickly to free Kurt of the offending fabric.

"I don't think I've learned my lesson yet," he whispered low in Kurt's ear. "Come on me."

Blaine took his mouth again, guiding Kurt's hand to fist his cock then running his own hands over Kurt's back, rucking up his shirt.

It took a little longer this time, Blaine greedily swallowing each of Kurt's familiar little whimpers until he felt Kurt spurting hot and wet and sticky all over his skin. Finally parting their lips, he brought Kurt's forehead to rest against his, breathing with him until they were both breathing slow and steady once more.

With the press of one last kiss, he nudged Kurt off of him, spinning to sit up in the middle chair once his movements were unrestricted. Kicking off his pants completely, he snatched up his underwear for a quick wipe-down, wincing as he bundled the mess up into a ball.

Kurt had made a beeline for his bag once his clothes were righted and was desperately trying to tame his hair back into some semblance of normal. He glanced over when Blaine stood, watched as he carefully zipped up his pants.

"No underwear, Blaine? You really are the naughty schoolboy."

Blaine smirked. "You're one to talk, Mr. Hummel."

He watched as Kurt's skin flushed prettily at his words, a reaction he had anticipated now that his boyfriend was out of character.

"Thank you for doing this, Blaine," Kurt said, stepping closer to him and taking his hands. "I know you don't like to risk doing anything in the school, but…"

"It's a holiday, not even the janitors are here. And I have to admit, that was definitely worth sneaking you away from your family, and 'borrowing' that spare key, and…"

He stopped when Kurt kissed him, happily wrapping his arms around the younger man and pulling him close.

"And this uniform!" Kurt exclaimed when he pulled away, running a finger down the red piping. "If only I had known you then, Blaine, I would have…"

"You would have been twelve, and trust me, I fill it out much better now."

"I've seen videos," Kurt protested. "You would have been my teenage dream."

"I'm not your teenage dream?" Blaine said with mock-hurt.

"Always," Kurt assured him breathily. "Even ten years from now when you'll be old…"

"Thirties is hardly old, Kurt."

"Yeah, well… we'll see," his boyfriend teased. "So, are we still good for me to come over this weekend?"

"It's not me we need to worry about. Did you clear it with your father?"

Kurt nodded. "He's not crazy about the idea, but I'm eighteen, so…"

"Right. And I want your homework done beforehand, Kurt. Every bit of it, or that's what you'll be doing while you're with me."

He really hated pulling the teacher card on Kurt, but it was a necessary evil. Blaine already struggled with the morality of their relationship enough without being a distraction from the boy's education.

Kurt grumbled, and Blaine smiled. "I'd rather spend the time on… other lessons," he added to soften the blow.

Except when he loved pulling the teacher card.

"I don't know about that," Kurt said, matter-of-fact. "I think we've just proven I'm a much better educator."

"Please, Kurt," Blaine teased. "That was fun, but…"

"Shut-up," Kurt said.

"You know what they say: practice makes perfect."

Kurt chuckled and grabbed Blaine's tie, pulling him forward a bit until Blaine could feel Kurt's breath ghosting against his lips. "I could be good with that."