Author's Note: This started out as a prompt over on the Awk Meme that I prompted, and couldn't write myself at the time, because I had been doing NaNo. Then I had school and too much to do. Now that school is over, I wanted to write something, just to get my muse back into shape.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it.

Warnings: For semi-graphic BDSM play.

Crack

The sound of the flogger coupled with the hiss that escaped Blaine's gasping mouth echoed through the air. It was music to Kurt's ears. He loved the days when the two of them could actually make use of their playroom. For the past few months, it's sat abandoned; the chains, whips and paddles gathering dust and the St. Andrews Cross mounted to the far wall called out to them every time they passed by the entrance to the room on the way to their bedroom each night as they headed to bed. There were other various pieces of equipment and toys littering the room, some mounted to the walls, some in a cabinet that was usually kept closed. There was a drawer full of different types of gags, and another drawer solely for different types of anal plugs. It was Kurt and Blaine's own personal haven.

"Say it again." Kurt commanded as he brought the whip down across Blaine's chest one again.

Crack

"I'm sorry, Master. I'm sorry. I'll never do it again!" Blaine panted.

"What won't you ever do again?"

Crack

"Come without permission. Please Master…"

Crack

"You're usually such a good boy. Why would you go and be naughty like that and come when I specifically told you not to?" Kurt asked, as he walked up to his husband who was restrained by the black leather cuffs securely fastened to the arms of the St. Andrews Cross.

"It'd been so long, Master." Blaine whined as he tried to catch his breath; the flogger had knocked the wind out of him on more than one occasion. The euphoria that came with being bound and flogged was almost too much to take sometimes. Almost.

"So you think you can just do as you please?"

"No Master. I'm sorry." Kurt smiled, rubbing his hand over the reddening skin of Blaine's chest, before slapping it lightly, making Blaine intake a short but deep hissing breath.

"Good boy." Kurt said, kissing Blaine's mouth roughly. "Now it's time to have some fun." It was the first night they both had off, and both had been up to playing in over a month. Kurt wasn't going to let a little thing like Blaine coming too early stop them.

Later that night, when the two were curled up next to one another in bed, completely stated from that night's activities, they were so relaxed, yet still in such an adrenaline high that they couldn't sleep yet. With Blaine as the little spoon, and Kurt wrapped snuggly around him, he felt at ease. He always felt the most at ease after a night of play. Not just because of the sex, but because it allowed him to give up control and just live in the moment for a while. He could forget about all his troubles; like the asshole at work who is trying to take his job, or the racist homophobe down the street who is constantly leaving threatening letters in their mailbox.

"Honey, remember tomorrow my parents are coming to visit." Or the impending arrival of one Burt and Carole Hummel. He loved his two in-laws very much, probably more so than he loved his own parents, but he preferred to see them when he and Kurt visited them in Lima, instead of them coming to New York. The two of them would always be on guard; wondering if there was any sign of the… kinkier aspect of their personal life that his in-laws just didn't need to know about him.

"I know. I'll set up the guest room before I go and pick them up from the airport tomorrow, if you make sure to lock up the playroom." Blaine reassured his husband, turning just slightly to be able to reach his lips for a kiss.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? They're driving up. They're leaving super early, like 6am. They should be here by 4 at the latest."

"Really? Cool. For me. Not so much for Carole. Sitting in a car for 10 hours, listening to Burt's Mellencamp CDs?" Blaine said.

"Poor Carole." They shared a giggle before relaxing into one another again and drifting off to sleep.

Eight hours later, the husbands were still sleeping in their bed, when the doorbell rang. It rudely woke them from their slumber, and Kurt's heart was beating a mile a minute. "Who could that be?" He asked, and Blaine shrugged.

"When did you say that your parents were leaving?"

"6-ish, I don't know. Dad said really early." Kurt shook his head, before getting out of bed, pulling on his robe and walking towards the front door to see who was there so early in the morning. When he looked out the peep hole, he saw his father and step-mother standing there, luggage in hand. "Fuck…" Kurt muttered to himself, not having expected them to be here that early.

"What?" Blaine asked, quickly walking behind Kurt.

"They're here." He whispered to Blaine, and Blaine's eyes widened. "How the fuck did they get here so fast?" Blaine shrugged.

"I don't know, but are you going to keep them on the porch the entire morning. Babe, they're your parents. Let them in." Kurt groaned, but opened the door anyway.

"Hi Dad, Hi Carole. C'mon in!" He said as cheerfully as he can, even though he had just been woken up rudely by the horrible doorbell that he didn't want, but Blaine had kept pouting at the store, so he had finally given in.

"What took you so long to answer? You two weren't still in bed, were you? It's already 10am!" Kurt yawned.

"We didn't get to sleep until late. We weren't expecting you until later." Kurt said, wiping the sleep out of his eyes.

"He's a little cranky this morning. He thought he'd have more time to clean the place up before you two arrived." Blaine grinned, before grabbing Carole's suitcase out of her hand, and reaching for Burt's. "Let me bring this into the spare room for ya." The spare room was only just off the living room, so he could hear the conversation from where he was, he giggled when Burt scolded Kurt for staying up until 2 in the morning, but was scandalized to hear that they left the house at midnight. Blaine rushed out of the room, his eyes and mouth opened wide. "Why would you leave so early?"

"We didn't want to get caught in any traffic. Nighttime is the best time to travel, because no one is on the roads that early in the morning." Carole said with a smile and a grin. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom." She said, making her way down the hall. They'd been here before, so they knew what every room in the house was for, except the playroom of course. That had always been kept under lock and key when someone came to stay.

"C'mon Dad, come and sit in the living room. You're probably exhausted. I can't believe you left that early." Burt shrugged but followed his son into the living room.

"It was no big deal. I took a nap before we left, and Carole and I switched off on driving every couple of hours."

"Still…"

Blaine smiled as he listened to his father-in-law recount some of the crazy people they met at the gas stations and restaurant they stopped at for breakfast. He was relaxed, at ease until he heard an "Oh… my… god." Carole shrieked. Blaine and Kurt caught each other's eyes from across the room each asking the other the same question.

"Did you lock the playroom door?" Unfortunately for them, they both shook their head. Sprinting up from their seats, they ran in the direction of the playroom and saw Carole standing in the doorway to their playroom gazing at the equipment they had set up. "Oh my God, Carole. I'm so sorry you had to see that." Kurt said, trying to pull his step-mother back to the living room, so Blaine could quickly shut the door. But Carole wasn't having any of that. She shook her step-son off and continued to gaze at the room.

"Really it's not what it looks like." Blaine tried to explain, but Carole giggled.

"Oh I think it is…" Carole said, arching her eyebrow at her son-in-law, an action that caused Kurt to blush and become incredibly flustered.

"What is?" Burt said, having left the living room to see what all the hubbub was. Kurt shrieked.

"Oh god."

"Hey, is that a St. Andrews Cross?" Burt asked, as he pushed past Carole into the room to take a gander at the rest of the room.

"How the hell do you know what a St. Andrews Cross is Dad?" Kurt asked, the horror over his father knowing about his kinky side, momentarily masked at the knowledge that his father might know a little about the kinky as well.

Carole giggled, while Burt rubbed his head, unsure of what to say. "Well uhh…" To Blaine, the entire situation they were in was both horrifying and amusing. Horrifying because, who wants their parents or in-laws to know about their kinky personal habits, but amusing because apparently said in-laws don't seem to care; and more importantly are amused by it themselves.

"Wait a minute…" Blaine said, everything starting to come together in his head. "Oh god… oh god bad mental image." He said, as the sudden onslaught of what Carole and Burt could possibly get up to in a similar playroom crowded his brain. Carole burst out laughing.

"Oh honey, it's all right. Seriously, we're the last ones to judge." She said, wrapping her arm around her son-in-law.

"Wait, why?" Kurt said, apparently not having grasped what everyone else in the room had already gotten.

"Son, clearly you have a kinky side." Burt said, wrapping his own arm around his son as he led all four of them out of the room and into the living room. "Did you not wonder where you got it from?" Kurt stared at his father, before the same mental images that had flooded Blaine's mind mere minutes before, attacked Kurt.

"Oh god, I didn't need to know that." Carole giggled again.

"Should have locked your playroom door then."

"Should have told us, you'd be arriving at 10 am in the bloody morning!" Kurt argued back at her. Blaine giggled and held back so he could talk to his husband alone for a minute, while Burt and Carole walked back into the living room.

"Well, look at the bright side Kurt at least we don't have to worry about them finding out anymore!" He said brightly, and Kurt just rolled his eyes.

"Yes some bright side. I trade having to worry about my parents finding my collection of studded paddles, for worrying about whether or not they're going to want to use them!"