[Kurt is counting his blessings at this point, the silicon ring chief among them. He's pretty sure he would've come by now if not for the tight fit around his cock, throbbing with complaint but not completely betraying him just yet. At least if he comes now, he'll only really be disappointed instead of completely humiliated. Sometimes Corrigan makes him come embarrassingly quickly.
He hasn't yet - although not for lack of trying, good God, his fingers fucking him open feel divine - but he sure is getting there. Every slick, twisting, spreading, punishing thrust of his Master's thick fingers inside him makes him see stars, his eyes starting to roll back, lips and chin wet from dribbles of saliva he hasn't noticed or cared about. Though the ropes hold him back, Kurt tries spreading his legs on instinct, wanting so badly to feel more, for Corrigan to follow through and break his promise and blow his fucking mind with that amazing mouth of his, to ram his cock inside him over and over until he can't take it anymore, no matter who's watching.
There could be people standing there right now, watching everything. Kurt doesn't notice or care.]
Y-Y-Yes, yes, yes, f-fuck, please Master! I'd like that, please, I want that so bad, want to scream for you, Master--! [He's cut off by a loud, raspy, drawn-out moan, a tell that he's getting close, balancing on a razor's edge and on the verge of tipping over.]
[Corrigan knows the tells, knows every sign, knows Kurt's body better than his own, at this point. And he's also been hard this entire time, holding back from doing more than getting his hands on and in his pet, which has taken every bit of his considerable self-control. So when he hears that ragged, desperate moan, half a gasp, almost a scream, he decides to give Kurt a chance to win. Sometimes he doesn't, sometimes he goes beyond the blatantly obvious limits of Kurt's control and then the game can continue for a while, he can make the younger man earn his way back to favor. There's fun in that, of course, but Corrigan isn't as young as he once was, and the prospect of reward rather than punishment is much more appealing this time.
Of course, he doesn't say any of that aloud -- that would spoil things. Instead he slows the pace of those three thick fingers working in and out of Kurt, curling and hooking and scissoring him open, and reaches with his free hand to turn off the vibrations and slip off the ring. It's slippery enough, from sweat and lube and god knows what else, and Kurt is tangibly throbbing when Corrigan curls his hand around, squeezes gently. His voice is soft, lenient:] If you can keep from coming until I count to ten, then I'll give you just that. I'll reward you for being so, so good for me, for being so perfect.
[He pauses, presses a kiss to Kurt's lower back and says, just as sweetly:] If you can't, then you don't get to come until tomorrow, and I still get to fuck you senseless, right here and now. Understand me?
[Without waiting for an answer, Corrigan starts jerking Kurt off in time with the fingers plunging inside him, hard and fast and skillful, counting in a slow, leisurely way:] One...two...three...
[It's anyone's guess if Kurt can make it, but at least there's a chance, right?]
[When the vibrations mercifully stop, Kurt is left hanging in that delicious hazy veil of pleasure, brought so close to the edge only for it to start gently fading, slipping back just out of reach. It's been a while since they've really messed around with edging, foggy memories from months and years ago coming back to him, a mess of nights of near delirium and desperate cries for more all blending together. Even though they're not playing that kind of game today - he hopes - he's proud of himself for holding back this long, fully aware of how hard it is.
He's also thrilled, knowing just how good it's gonna feel when his Master finally lets him come.]
Y-Yes, Master, yes, I-- ah!
[He doesn't even get to enthusiastically agree to his Master's generous terms before the test starts, those thick fingers fucking into him in earnest, the big hand gripping his cock stroking him hard and fast. Master sure doesn't go easy on him. Kurt moans loudly, throwing his head back, his cries surely loud enough that every worker and client on the neighboring floors can hear his pleasure as Corrigan works his body right back up to that limit. He's shaking and twitching against the restraints, wanting so badly to let go and come hard over his Master's strong, unforgiving fingers, to feel the rush of climax right now, punishment be damned.
But he's stubborn. He wants to make Corrigan proud, wants to prove that he can do it. He's made it to three already. So he can make it to ten. He can take his mind elsewhere, think of something else, anything else, like the burn in his muscles or the press of his weight against the ropes or the weather tomorrow or what they're ordering for dinner or how he has to pick up their dry-cleaning later. He can do this. He's in control.]
Thank you, Master! F-Feels so good, thank you for fucking me w-with your hand, Master, I-- fuck, I wanna come so bad, Master, wanna come so bad for you, b-but I won't-- I won't-- hah, w-wanna make you proud, Master!
[God, Corrigan loves that stubborn streak, that unbreakable determination that Kurt has when he sets his mind to something and refuses to give it up. He's seen it in smaller ways, the devotion Kurt has to his various passions and interests, the way he attacks the world head-on, ready for a fight, ready to stand up and push back as long and as hard as it takes. And of course he sees it in times like this, when he takes Kurt's defenses apart, leaves him trembling and shivering and near-senseless with pleasure and strain, pushes him to a point far beyond what most people would be able to take. Kurt can take it, he can take anything, and it's going to make the ultimate payoff all the more rewarding.
He doesn't say this, though, focused on thrusting his fingers inside Kurt hard and deep, to the knuckles, lube slicking his palm and dripping all over the table, hooking them together on the way in and spreading on the way out, dragging over that spot he knows will drive Kurt insane. His other hand tightens, loosens as he drags it over Kurt's cock, twisting at the end of each long pull, thumbing over the head, slippery with the lube that's drying all over Kurt's pale, shivering skin.
And he counts, voice a low, even contrast to how skillfully he's manipulating Kurt's body, pushing every button, every trick in the book to make him lose control that much faster:] Four...five...six...seven...
[Corrigan doesn't say he's proud, doesn't encourage, doesn't coax Kurt one way or the other, but he does duck down, pressing another of those soft, almost gentle kisses at the base of his pet's spine. Almost there, you're almost there, it says, louder than words.] ...eight...nine...ten.
It's getting harder and harder to take though. Corrigan doesn't let up at all, still counting at that same slow, lazy pace, insufferably enunciating every single word and drawing it out on his tongue in the exact way he always does to drive Kurt absolutely crazy. He knows it's deliberate, and it still gets to him. The even pace of his voice when he counts is such a sharp turn from the brutal pace of his hands, playing his body punishingly hard. He knows exactly where to hook and spread and squeeze and press and twist his fingers around him, inside him, to make Kurt split at the seams, and he's pulling out every single trick he knows to make him deliciously break apart.
Kurt can't even ground himself in the pain of his sore muscles straining against tight ropes, can't dig his fingernails into the palms of his bound hands, for fear that the gorgeous dizzying sting of pain will send him careening over the edge. All he has is the hard clench of his jaw between cries of pleasure, and complete stubborn willpower. He refuses to lose. Absolutely refuses. The only thinking part of his brain left latches onto his Master's voice sounding out numbers one by one, burying himself in that rich baritone, waiting for that blissful moment when his voice finally sounds out ten.
It's like that word is the catalyst, the trigger that finally brings Kurt to climax. It takes a second, maybe two, like the word has to register in a mind too far gone to pay attention, but when it finally does, Kurt can't hold back anymore and starts coming hard. His whole body goes tight, his voice raw and hoarse as he unabashedly cries out his pleasure, shaking apart as he comes all over Corrigan's hand in hot, heavy bursts, making a complete mess of the table. It's white-hot, blinding, and it feels like it goes on forever, like he'll stay in this feeling for the rest of his life, floating weightless on a wave of ecstasy hard-fought for.
Even when it starts fading, when he's spilled his last and his body slumps and his cries become soft whimpers, Kurt can't bring himself to worry about anything. Whether he came too soon even after all that waiting, whether Master is disappointed or proud, he soars on this feeling for as long as he has it.]
[Corrigan rides it out with Kurt, keeps up the movement of his hands, fingers thrusting in hard, hand curling and squeezing and pulling, coaxing out that delicious, peaking high as long as possible, a reward tinged with pain. Waiting this long, pushing himself this far, coming has to almost hurt with what a relief it is, every strained muscle finally letting go, and Corrigan leans over Kurt as he finally starts to come down, as the uncontrollable jerking and shaking fades into shivery twitching, oversensitivity making even the soft nuzzling kiss to the back of one shoulderblade almost too much.]
Good boy. [It's soft, rumbling, more felt than heard, between those soothing, lavishing kisses, like Corrigan's held back too and can't keep himself from the gentle, tender affection one more minute. The words distract from the too-much-too-soon pulse of overstimulated nerve endings that comes when Corrigan slides his fingers free, discreetly wiping them on his pants. Perhaps he should start carrying around towels instead of cock rings.
No matter -- Corrigan is shifting easily into aftercare mode, examining the ropes for a moment before grabbing the safety scissors and forgoing fiddling with the knots in favor of just cutting through the bonds. Solstice will probably holler about wasting perfectly good rope, but Corrigan has never been particular patient. Besides, he knows that the mind-numbing pleasure will fade soon, and he wants Kurt out of his restraints before they become painful. A few careful snips and the ropes suspending Kurt's mostly-limp body midair are gently loosened until the young man is resting on the (very slippery) tabletop. A few more and the rest of the ropes fall away, leaving vivid red marks in their wake.
Corrigan slides to stand beside the table, gathering Kurt into his arms and rubbing at the ropeburn that crisscrosses behind his neck, humming into his hair:] Mmm, still with me? Nod if you can't talk yet.
[Corrigan praises him, calls him a good boy between burning touches of lips to his skin, and Kurt is just gone. Every touch feels like a live wire, his body suspended in an electric haze of pleasure, overwhelming, too much, but he gets so lost in that euphoric subspace the praise envelops him in that the pain of overstimulation barely registers. He made his Master proud, he made himself proud, and that knowledge makes every sharp tingly brush of fingers and lips all the sweeter.
Proving that he could do it was reward enough in itself. But getting to come sure didn't hurt. Much.
The scissors are cold whenever they touch his skin, so is the wet table when he makes contact with it, and he whines softly with every rope that's cut through as circulation slowly returns to his prickling limbs. He's going to have bruises and rope burn for days after this. He'll be thrilled to examine every single mark when he's capable, trace them with his fingers as they heal, knowing his Master will take good care of him and make sure there's no permanent damage. There never ever is.
Settling against Corrigan's chest, limbs limp and useless for now, Kurt moans softly and nuzzles into his shoulder, nodding softly. There's no way he can form a coherent sentence right now. He just wants to be close to his Master, feel his body against his, feel his big hands on his skin, feel him come inside him, already getting needy and impatient to be lavished with praise and healing touch.]
[Corrigan huffs gently at the moan, at the affectionate, wordlessly needy way Kurt is nuzzling into him. One hand comes up, cards through sweat-soaked hair, which is to date the only way he's seen it loose and unstyled. It's nice, the wholehearted, loose-limbed trusting in how Kurt leans against him, the absolute lack of self-consciousness. It's been a long time coming.
Pun not intended.
He allows it for a couple more moments, then eases away enough to pick up his suit jacket, which is lying discarded over one of the chairs nearby, still meticulously clean and tailored. This is settled around Kurt's shoulders, covering him up enough that Corrigan feels safe scooping him up and heading for the door. It's midday, but the conference room opens out onto a side hallway, and it's likely they'll be able to get to the elevator and upstairs without being seen. Knowing Solly, she's probably steering everyone away from that part of the building until she gets an all-clear text. Then she'll send in the cleaning crew.
There's a definite impatience in how Kurt is cuddling up to him that Corrigan knows full well is coming from a desire to get to the promised reward. A few years ago, he likely wouldn't have taken a step back, would've fucked Kurt senseless right then and there on the table. But he's -- softened up, maybe? In his old age, and while he would never turn down a chance to make Kurt scream for him, the desire to get the bruises attended to and some sort of clean-up/hydration/aftercare taken care of is stronger now.
Besides, it's always fun to make Kurt pout about Corrigan fussing over him instead of fucking him. The younger man's gotten a lot better about knowing his boundaries, but nobody's perfect. So Corrigan nudges open the door with his foot, pressing a kiss to Kurt's temple and saying almost cheerfully:] You're drinking at least a bottle and a half of water before I do anything else to you, hear me?
[Oh, and pout he does. The long, lingering, often deliberately drawn-out aftercare he's sometimes granted after play feels so good, his Master's tender hands the perfect way to bring him back down to earth after any glorious dizzying high. But sometimes, especially times like now when he hasn't been rewarded yet and Corrigan insists on dragging it out, it certainly does feel like being fussed over. He wants to be fucked right now, he doesn't wanna wait, he's been so good already.
But he knows better than to fight his Master on this. Master always knows best, being the only one with a clear head. His future self will thank him for those bottles of water in the morning, even though his current self would rather take a dick down his throat than hydrate right now.]
Ugh... Mmmph'fine... thankyou, m'ster...
[Though his words are whiny, indignant, his tone is soft and sweet when he slurs his words, heavy arms slowly coming up to hold on to Corrigan's shoulders as he's carried outside. Kurt honestly wouldn't mind if all of New York saw him right now, not caring if they bump into anyone in the hallways or the elevator on the way to Corrigan's suite. But it would probably be for the best if their trek upstairs goes uninterrupted.
Solstice really deserves more credit for all the extra work she has to do for them.]
[Corrigan laughs, a genuinely bemused sound, muffled against Kurt's hair as he nudged the elevator buttons with one hip.] No whining or I'll have to spank you. [It's very cheerful, fully aware that both of them would enjoy that far too much for it to ever be considered a punishment.
Solstice's motivation is probably something about wanting to avoid getting sued for public nudity, but deep down she cares. And Corrigan is glad for it, glad to not be interrupted during the elevator ride, or the short walk to the suite. His whole world is narrowed down to Kurt's weight in his arms, Kurt's voice in his ear, Kurt's shuddering breaths and racing heart coming back to level. That's the only thing that matters just then.
Well, that and, once Kurt has been settled seated on the edge of the bed, leaning down to rest his hands on either side of the younger man's face and kiss him, slow and lingering and with a promising heat behind it, a suggestion of more to come.]
[Kurt knows he can get away with pouting and whining and sassing Corrigan right now, can feel the smile in his voice when he threatens a spanking, the rumble in his chest when he laughs. They would both enjoy that too much for it to be a punishment, but you can't fault Kurt for keeping up the image of a whimpering pain slut.
He keeps his eyes closed the whole way to the suite, letting his Master's heart beating in his ear soothe him, guide his breathing back to a slow and even pace. Corrigan's arms are so strong, carrying him like he weighs nothing at all, even though his limbs are almost entirely dead weight. It's a miracle he's able to hold himself up at all when they finally slip through the door to Corrigan's suite and he's deposited on the edge of the bed, a miracle he'll attribute entirely to those big hands holding the sides of his face.
Corrigan kisses him, and Kurt melts. There's a soft noise that accompanies the deep, warm sigh against soft lips, Kurt's whole body deflating happily, relishing in the heat, the tenderness, the promise of more.]
It's a guarantee. [Corrigan lingers next to the bed for a long moment, fingers sliding up into Kurt's sweat-soaked hair, brushing it back from his face and dropping more kisses on his cheeks, his nose, his forehead.] I love you too. You're still drinking water before we do anything else.
[So there. Corrigan shifts backwards, going to the fridge and pulling out a couple bottles of mineral water, cracking one open and returning to Kurt's side. He kicks off his shoes, climbing onto the bed and settling behind the younger man, one arm around his waist, the other helping to guide the water to his lips.] Feeling in your hands coming back yet? You can move all your toes and everything? Those were some decent knots.
[A pause, and he kisses the back of Kurt's neck before adding, loftily:] Not as good as mine, of course, but decent.
Uggghhh, fine. [And he'd thought for sure he could flatter his way out of hydrating! Kurt playfully slumps over, rolling his eyes as Corrigan gets him a couple bottles of water, truly so perturbed he's not getting fucked right this second that he forgets he's supposed to be pouting about it.
The gentle hands on his body, the warm press of Corrigan's lips to his skin, the cold slide of water down his throat, the tingle in his body at hearing Corrigan say he loves him... it all helps smooth over that indignant whining.]
Wow, thanks a bunch, Master. [He snickers softly between mouthfuls of water, slowly curling and flexing his fingers and toes, gently testing his joints, elbows and knees, feeling the prickling starting to dissipate.] Mmm, I feel really good. Could use some work on the braiding still, didn't turn out as pretty as I wanted it, but I liked my knots today. Just tight enough. [He tips his head back and looks up at Corrigan, beaming.] Guess you're gonna have to teach me some more, huh?
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2020-11-28 05:02 am (UTC)He hasn't yet - although not for lack of trying, good God, his fingers fucking him open feel divine - but he sure is getting there. Every slick, twisting, spreading, punishing thrust of his Master's thick fingers inside him makes him see stars, his eyes starting to roll back, lips and chin wet from dribbles of saliva he hasn't noticed or cared about. Though the ropes hold him back, Kurt tries spreading his legs on instinct, wanting so badly to feel more, for Corrigan to follow through and break his promise and blow his fucking mind with that amazing mouth of his, to ram his cock inside him over and over until he can't take it anymore, no matter who's watching.
There could be people standing there right now, watching everything. Kurt doesn't notice or care.]
Y-Y-Yes, yes, yes, f-fuck, please Master! I'd like that, please, I want that so bad, want to scream for you, Master--! [He's cut off by a loud, raspy, drawn-out moan, a tell that he's getting close, balancing on a razor's edge and on the verge of tipping over.]
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Date: 2020-11-29 03:21 am (UTC)Of course, he doesn't say any of that aloud -- that would spoil things. Instead he slows the pace of those three thick fingers working in and out of Kurt, curling and hooking and scissoring him open, and reaches with his free hand to turn off the vibrations and slip off the ring. It's slippery enough, from sweat and lube and god knows what else, and Kurt is tangibly throbbing when Corrigan curls his hand around, squeezes gently. His voice is soft, lenient:] If you can keep from coming until I count to ten, then I'll give you just that. I'll reward you for being so, so good for me, for being so perfect.
[He pauses, presses a kiss to Kurt's lower back and says, just as sweetly:] If you can't, then you don't get to come until tomorrow, and I still get to fuck you senseless, right here and now. Understand me?
[Without waiting for an answer, Corrigan starts jerking Kurt off in time with the fingers plunging inside him, hard and fast and skillful, counting in a slow, leisurely way:] One...two...three...
[It's anyone's guess if Kurt can make it, but at least there's a chance, right?]
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Date: 2020-11-29 11:28 pm (UTC)He's also thrilled, knowing just how good it's gonna feel when his Master finally lets him come.]
Y-Yes, Master, yes, I-- ah!
[He doesn't even get to enthusiastically agree to his Master's generous terms before the test starts, those thick fingers fucking into him in earnest, the big hand gripping his cock stroking him hard and fast. Master sure doesn't go easy on him. Kurt moans loudly, throwing his head back, his cries surely loud enough that every worker and client on the neighboring floors can hear his pleasure as Corrigan works his body right back up to that limit. He's shaking and twitching against the restraints, wanting so badly to let go and come hard over his Master's strong, unforgiving fingers, to feel the rush of climax right now, punishment be damned.
But he's stubborn. He wants to make Corrigan proud, wants to prove that he can do it. He's made it to three already. So he can make it to ten. He can take his mind elsewhere, think of something else, anything else, like the burn in his muscles or the press of his weight against the ropes or the weather tomorrow or what they're ordering for dinner or how he has to pick up their dry-cleaning later. He can do this. He's in control.]
Thank you, Master! F-Feels so good, thank you for fucking me w-with your hand, Master, I-- fuck, I wanna come so bad, Master, wanna come so bad for you, b-but I won't-- I won't-- hah, w-wanna make you proud, Master!
no subject
Date: 2020-11-30 02:19 am (UTC)He doesn't say this, though, focused on thrusting his fingers inside Kurt hard and deep, to the knuckles, lube slicking his palm and dripping all over the table, hooking them together on the way in and spreading on the way out, dragging over that spot he knows will drive Kurt insane. His other hand tightens, loosens as he drags it over Kurt's cock, twisting at the end of each long pull, thumbing over the head, slippery with the lube that's drying all over Kurt's pale, shivering skin.
And he counts, voice a low, even contrast to how skillfully he's manipulating Kurt's body, pushing every button, every trick in the book to make him lose control that much faster:] Four...five...six...seven...
[Corrigan doesn't say he's proud, doesn't encourage, doesn't coax Kurt one way or the other, but he does duck down, pressing another of those soft, almost gentle kisses at the base of his pet's spine. Almost there, you're almost there, it says, louder than words.] ...eight...nine...ten.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-30 02:15 pm (UTC)It's getting harder and harder to take though. Corrigan doesn't let up at all, still counting at that same slow, lazy pace, insufferably enunciating every single word and drawing it out on his tongue in the exact way he always does to drive Kurt absolutely crazy. He knows it's deliberate, and it still gets to him. The even pace of his voice when he counts is such a sharp turn from the brutal pace of his hands, playing his body punishingly hard. He knows exactly where to hook and spread and squeeze and press and twist his fingers around him, inside him, to make Kurt split at the seams, and he's pulling out every single trick he knows to make him deliciously break apart.
Kurt can't even ground himself in the pain of his sore muscles straining against tight ropes, can't dig his fingernails into the palms of his bound hands, for fear that the gorgeous dizzying sting of pain will send him careening over the edge. All he has is the hard clench of his jaw between cries of pleasure, and complete stubborn willpower. He refuses to lose. Absolutely refuses. The only thinking part of his brain left latches onto his Master's voice sounding out numbers one by one, burying himself in that rich baritone, waiting for that blissful moment when his voice finally sounds out ten.
It's like that word is the catalyst, the trigger that finally brings Kurt to climax. It takes a second, maybe two, like the word has to register in a mind too far gone to pay attention, but when it finally does, Kurt can't hold back anymore and starts coming hard. His whole body goes tight, his voice raw and hoarse as he unabashedly cries out his pleasure, shaking apart as he comes all over Corrigan's hand in hot, heavy bursts, making a complete mess of the table. It's white-hot, blinding, and it feels like it goes on forever, like he'll stay in this feeling for the rest of his life, floating weightless on a wave of ecstasy hard-fought for.
Even when it starts fading, when he's spilled his last and his body slumps and his cries become soft whimpers, Kurt can't bring himself to worry about anything. Whether he came too soon even after all that waiting, whether Master is disappointed or proud, he soars on this feeling for as long as he has it.]
no subject
Date: 2020-12-01 03:21 am (UTC)Good boy. [It's soft, rumbling, more felt than heard, between those soothing, lavishing kisses, like Corrigan's held back too and can't keep himself from the gentle, tender affection one more minute. The words distract from the too-much-too-soon pulse of overstimulated nerve endings that comes when Corrigan slides his fingers free, discreetly wiping them on his pants. Perhaps he should start carrying around towels instead of cock rings.
No matter -- Corrigan is shifting easily into aftercare mode, examining the ropes for a moment before grabbing the safety scissors and forgoing fiddling with the knots in favor of just cutting through the bonds. Solstice will probably holler about wasting perfectly good rope, but Corrigan has never been particular patient. Besides, he knows that the mind-numbing pleasure will fade soon, and he wants Kurt out of his restraints before they become painful. A few careful snips and the ropes suspending Kurt's mostly-limp body midair are gently loosened until the young man is resting on the (very slippery) tabletop. A few more and the rest of the ropes fall away, leaving vivid red marks in their wake.
Corrigan slides to stand beside the table, gathering Kurt into his arms and rubbing at the ropeburn that crisscrosses behind his neck, humming into his hair:] Mmm, still with me? Nod if you can't talk yet.
no subject
Date: 2020-12-01 05:40 pm (UTC)Proving that he could do it was reward enough in itself. But getting to come sure didn't hurt. Much.
The scissors are cold whenever they touch his skin, so is the wet table when he makes contact with it, and he whines softly with every rope that's cut through as circulation slowly returns to his prickling limbs. He's going to have bruises and rope burn for days after this. He'll be thrilled to examine every single mark when he's capable, trace them with his fingers as they heal, knowing his Master will take good care of him and make sure there's no permanent damage. There never ever is.
Settling against Corrigan's chest, limbs limp and useless for now, Kurt moans softly and nuzzles into his shoulder, nodding softly. There's no way he can form a coherent sentence right now. He just wants to be close to his Master, feel his body against his, feel his big hands on his skin, feel him come inside him, already getting needy and impatient to be lavished with praise and healing touch.]
no subject
Date: 2020-12-02 02:11 am (UTC)Pun not intended.
He allows it for a couple more moments, then eases away enough to pick up his suit jacket, which is lying discarded over one of the chairs nearby, still meticulously clean and tailored. This is settled around Kurt's shoulders, covering him up enough that Corrigan feels safe scooping him up and heading for the door. It's midday, but the conference room opens out onto a side hallway, and it's likely they'll be able to get to the elevator and upstairs without being seen. Knowing Solly, she's probably steering everyone away from that part of the building until she gets an all-clear text. Then she'll send in the cleaning crew.
There's a definite impatience in how Kurt is cuddling up to him that Corrigan knows full well is coming from a desire to get to the promised reward. A few years ago, he likely wouldn't have taken a step back, would've fucked Kurt senseless right then and there on the table. But he's -- softened up, maybe? In his old age, and while he would never turn down a chance to make Kurt scream for him, the desire to get the bruises attended to and some sort of clean-up/hydration/aftercare taken care of is stronger now.
Besides, it's always fun to make Kurt pout about Corrigan fussing over him instead of fucking him. The younger man's gotten a lot better about knowing his boundaries, but nobody's perfect. So Corrigan nudges open the door with his foot, pressing a kiss to Kurt's temple and saying almost cheerfully:] You're drinking at least a bottle and a half of water before I do anything else to you, hear me?
no subject
Date: 2020-12-02 11:57 pm (UTC)But he knows better than to fight his Master on this. Master always knows best, being the only one with a clear head. His future self will thank him for those bottles of water in the morning, even though his current self would rather take a dick down his throat than hydrate right now.]
Ugh... Mmmph'fine... thankyou, m'ster...
[Though his words are whiny, indignant, his tone is soft and sweet when he slurs his words, heavy arms slowly coming up to hold on to Corrigan's shoulders as he's carried outside. Kurt honestly wouldn't mind if all of New York saw him right now, not caring if they bump into anyone in the hallways or the elevator on the way to Corrigan's suite. But it would probably be for the best if their trek upstairs goes uninterrupted.
Solstice really deserves more credit for all the extra work she has to do for them.]
no subject
Date: 2020-12-03 01:03 am (UTC)Solstice's motivation is probably something about wanting to avoid getting sued for public nudity, but deep down she cares. And Corrigan is glad for it, glad to not be interrupted during the elevator ride, or the short walk to the suite. His whole world is narrowed down to Kurt's weight in his arms, Kurt's voice in his ear, Kurt's shuddering breaths and racing heart coming back to level. That's the only thing that matters just then.
Well, that and, once Kurt has been settled seated on the edge of the bed, leaning down to rest his hands on either side of the younger man's face and kiss him, slow and lingering and with a promising heat behind it, a suggestion of more to come.]
no subject
Date: 2020-12-05 01:52 pm (UTC)[Kurt knows he can get away with pouting and whining and sassing Corrigan right now, can feel the smile in his voice when he threatens a spanking, the rumble in his chest when he laughs. They would both enjoy that too much for it to be a punishment, but you can't fault Kurt for keeping up the image of a whimpering pain slut.
He keeps his eyes closed the whole way to the suite, letting his Master's heart beating in his ear soothe him, guide his breathing back to a slow and even pace. Corrigan's arms are so strong, carrying him like he weighs nothing at all, even though his limbs are almost entirely dead weight. It's a miracle he's able to hold himself up at all when they finally slip through the door to Corrigan's suite and he's deposited on the edge of the bed, a miracle he'll attribute entirely to those big hands holding the sides of his face.
Corrigan kisses him, and Kurt melts. There's a soft noise that accompanies the deep, warm sigh against soft lips, Kurt's whole body deflating happily, relishing in the heat, the tenderness, the promise of more.]
Mmm'love you...
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Date: 2020-12-06 02:07 am (UTC)[So there. Corrigan shifts backwards, going to the fridge and pulling out a couple bottles of mineral water, cracking one open and returning to Kurt's side. He kicks off his shoes, climbing onto the bed and settling behind the younger man, one arm around his waist, the other helping to guide the water to his lips.] Feeling in your hands coming back yet? You can move all your toes and everything? Those were some decent knots.
[A pause, and he kisses the back of Kurt's neck before adding, loftily:] Not as good as mine, of course, but decent.
no subject
Date: 2020-12-07 10:50 am (UTC)The gentle hands on his body, the warm press of Corrigan's lips to his skin, the cold slide of water down his throat, the tingle in his body at hearing Corrigan say he loves him... it all helps smooth over that indignant whining.]
Wow, thanks a bunch, Master. [He snickers softly between mouthfuls of water, slowly curling and flexing his fingers and toes, gently testing his joints, elbows and knees, feeling the prickling starting to dissipate.] Mmm, I feel really good. Could use some work on the braiding still, didn't turn out as pretty as I wanted it, but I liked my knots today. Just tight enough. [He tips his head back and looks up at Corrigan, beaming.] Guess you're gonna have to teach me some more, huh?