CHAPTER 16

The doorbell rang and Blaine almost bounced out of the chair he was sitting on. Kurt chuckled fondly.

“Go on then, open the door. I know you can’t wait to see him.”

“Thank you, Kurt.” Blaine called, already halfway to the front door. Kurt followed him at a slower pace, ready to welcome their guests.

It was three days after Christmas, the day of Jeff and Nick’s visit. No one else was home – Kurt’s parents were at work and Finn had decided he’d rather spend the day with Puck than stay with them. Blaine had been a picture of excitement all morning; Kurt loved seeing this happy side of him even if he was a little bit nervous himself.

He knew nothing about Jeff, really. He knew he took good care of his slave, judging by their first meeting in Doctor Holland’s waiting room, but other than that, the boy was a complete stranger. Kurt just hoped they would be able to find a common tongue. This visit was more for Blaine and Nick’s sake, but it would be nice to not spend it in awkward silence.

When Kurt got to the hall, the two slaves were already hugging in the doorway, Jeff waiting patiently behind them. Finally they pulled apart, making room in the small entrance area, and after a bit of shuffling around with coats and boots and the box of macarons the visitors brought, the initial chaos was under control and they could move over to the living room.

“May I make drinks for everyone, Kurt?” Blaine asked politely as soon as they were seated.

Normally, Kurt would protest, saying he could do it himself, but he could see how eager Blaine was to actually do something for their guests.

“That would be very nice, Blaine, thank you,” he said instead. “I’ll have coffee. Jeff?”

“Tea, thanks.”

Kurt nodded at Blaine and made sure to add, “And get whatever you like for the two of you, okay?”

“Yes, Kurt. Thank you.” Blaine beamed at him.

“I’ll go help you,” Nick sprang up from the little loveseat in the corner where he’d just settled. “If I may?” he added like an afterthought, looking between Jeff and Kurt.

“Of course,” Jeff said, and Kurt nodded.

Kurt could hear them talking quietly the second they left the room. He was alone with Jeff now and for a while, they just looked at each other, smiling awkwardly. Kurt cleared his throat, not sure what to say, then decided they had at least one topic that was sure to be shared.

“So, how long has Nick been with your family?” he asked.

“Almost two years now.”

“Oh wow. That’s quite a while.”

Jeff nodded. “How about Blaine? I never asked.”

“Just about a month.” Kurt said, a little astonished even as he said that. It felt like so much longer. It was already hard to remember what his life had been like before Blaine became a part of it.

“He looks much better than when we first met,” Jeff said.

“Yes, he’s healing nicely. Physically, at least.”

“So…” Jeff hesitated, then went on. “You really saved him from the market?”

Kurt nodded, his face falling as memories hit him. “They were going to kill him there, I bought him at the last moment.”

Jeff’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. “Wow. I heard terrible things about those markets but I had no idea–” He paused and schooled his face into an oddly controlled expression. “It was nice of you to do that when buying a healthy, undamaged slave would have been much easier in the long run.”

Kurt stared at him. “What?” It took a few seconds before he understood what Jeff was suggesting, but when it registered, he shook his head fervently. “No, no, no, I wasn’t there to buy anyone. Not for myself anyway, I was just driving a friend there.”

“Oh, so you weren’t looking for a…” Jeff looked behind him and finished in a whisper, “a sex slave?”

“Of course not!” Kurt exclaimed, loud enough that the two boys in the kitchen fell completely silent. He toned it down to a furious whisper when they went back to chatting. “They’re people, not toys! I only bought Blaine because I had to help him. That’s all I want for him, to be safe and happy.”

“Oh thank god,” Jeff said, clearly relieved and smiling earnestly for the first time since he arrived. The wariness that Kurt had felt from him all along was gone. “I’m sorry, I just know way too many guys who think that having a sex slave is the most obvious and natural thing, and it creeps me out. And seeing how both Nick and Blaine had been sex slaves before, I thought… Anyway, I’m sorry for assuming.”

“It’s okay. So I guess it is safe to assume you did not buy Nick for that, either?” Kurt felt himself blush, talking about things like that with a stranger.

“Nope, I sure didn’t. In fact–”

He was interrupted when Blaine entered, carrying the tray with four steaming mugs. Behind him, Nick carried a sugar bowl and a cream pitcher. They put it all down on the coffee table, setting the mugs in front of Kurt and Jeff first, then taking their hot chocolate to the side table by the loveseat where they would settle. Kurt had to smile, watching Blaine acting so at home, confident in his task, no trace of fear or uncertainty left.

Nick ran back to the kitchen to put away the tray, and then both slaves stood by the loveseat, looking at their owners, waiting for instructions.

Kurt smiled at them. “Thank you. Don’t mind us, I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do.”

He looked at Jeff to confirm the other boy didn’t have other ideas for what the slaves should be doing, but he just smiled. Blaine and Nick didn’t need more encouragement – they sat down and got right back to their conversation. From what Kurt could hear of it, they were talking about their life among the “Warblers” at their old owner’s house, remembering other slaves in their group and wondering what had happened to them since.

“I bet Trent’s still there,” he heard Nick say. Blaine nodded in agreement.

“Of course. He was always Master’s favorite. No one else got called in for wake-up sex as often as he did.”

Kurt quickly turned his attention back to Jeff, mortified.

Jeff smiled at him sadly.

“So I gather you never talked to Blaine about what he went through with his previous owners?” Jeff asked softly.

“Not in much detail, no. I’ve heard some of it, and I can guess more from his injuries, but I never asked about anything particular. I guess he’d rather forget, too.”

They turned to lighter topics after that, talking about school and hobbies, and all those little things people discuss when they get to know each other. Kurt learned that Jeff was also a senior, and he attended a private school. He sang, like Kurt did, and his Glee club was big enough to take part in competitions. They’d even won Sectionals once. Kurt couldn’t help but envy him.

Aside from those few similarities, though, he and Jeff couldn’t be more different. Jeff loved all kinds of sports, both watching and playing, and didn’t care about Broadway or fashion. He wore whatever was comfortable, didn’t read Vogue, enjoyed Top 40 music and wanted to become a physical therapist. Despite all the differences, they soon found they really enjoyed each other’s company. Before it was time for lunch, they’d already decided they had to make the meetings a regular thing, especially since it turned out they lived just a short drive away from each other.

By the time lunch was over – a cold pasta salad that Kurt had tossed together this morning – they were joking around and laughing with no trace of awkwardness left. It felt good to talk so freely to someone who understood and shared Kurt’s beliefs about slaves.

It was almost time for Jeff and Nick to go home. The two slaves were clinging to each other more and more as the time of separation approached, despite the reassurance that they would get to see each other again soon. Currently, they were on the loveseat again, Nick’s arm thrown around Blaine’s shoulders, their heads close together as he showed Blaine some vacation pictures on Jeff’s cell phone. Kurt was so busy watching them across the room and trying to convince himself the feeling rising in his throat wasn’t what he thought it was that he didn’t realize Jeff had been actually watching him watch them.

“Aww, you’re totally in love with him.” Jeff bumped Kurt’s shoulder playfully, his eyes twinkling.

“What? No, of course not, I’d never–” Kurt shook his head fervently.

Jeff laid a steady hand on his shoulder. “Come on, of course you wouldn’t act on it, not when he’s still so hurt and skittish. But he won’t be traumatized forever. He’s already looking so much happier.”

“Well he’s no longer abused, of course he’s happier. But I can’t see how he can not be traumatized after what he’d been through,” Kurt whispered.

Nick squeezed his shoulder. “He’ll be okay. You’re taking great care of him, and he’s healing, inside and out. Trust me, give it time, you will both figure it out. That’s how it happened for us, too. Sort of organically, you know?”

Kurt’s jaw dropped a little. “Wait, you mean, you and Nick? You’re a couple?”

“Yup.” Jeff grinned.

“So you’re… gay?”

That made Jeff chuckle. “Obviously. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, but I just. I never met another. Gay boy my age, I mean,” Kurt stuttered, his eyes wide.

“Sorry Kurt, I’m taken, and happily so.” Jeff winked at him and Kurt laughed, the shock slowly passing.

“So you and Nick. Wow. My mind is kind of blown.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s pretty uncommon to have an actual relationship with your slave.” Jeff shrugged. “We tried to fight it at first, since neither of us were sure that this was best for the other, but in the end, we couldn’t let it go. I love him and he loves me. That’s what counts.”

“How long have you been together?” Kurt asked, a little choked up with the revelation.

“Just over a year now.”

“And no one knows?”

“Oh, my mom knows, and a few of my closest friends,” Jeff said. “They’re okay with it. To be honest, I don’t really see Nick as a slave, and I hate that we have to remember to act that way in public. But it’s not accepted, so we hold up the pretense, at least until Nick is free. Until then, he’s working at one of the restaurants my family owns.”

“What about next year?” Kurt asked, his own college dilemma on his mind.

Jeff shrugged. “He’s gonna move with me when I go to college, of course.”

“So you’re going to rent an apartment then?”

“No, of course not. Most schools allow personal slaves in the dorms for an extra fee, didn’t you know?” Kurt shook his head. He’d never really researched the topic. “I’m trying for the University of Delaware or the University of Pittsburgh because they have some of the best programs in physical therapy. And Nick will be able to keep working in either case because my family’s restaurant chain reaches there.” Jeff smiled, excited. “I can’t wait. Where are you planning to go?”

“New York.” Kurt replied, without further details. He wasn’t sure about them himself yet.

Jeff nodded. “What about Blaine? Are you taking him with you?”

Kurt hesitated. “I don’t know yet. It’s all so new. He was supposed to go to work at my dad’s garage but…”

“But you can’t imagine going without him?” Jeff smiled with understanding. “Told you, you’re totally falling for him.”

He winked and then got up from the couch and crossed the room to stand in front of the loveseat.

“Okay, we need to go,” he said to Nick and reached out his hand. Nick took it and with one last hug for Blaine, got up. Jeff smiled at him. “We’ll get together again in a week or two, don’t worry, guys.”

Jeff’s words were still playing in Kurt’s head hours later, as he went to bed. He didn’t really think he was falling for Blaine. Or was he? He definitely wasn’t lusting after him or anything like that. But if he was being honest with himself, he did like Blaine… a lot. Thinking of what Jeff and Nick had in each other filled him with longing, and he doubted it was just that he wanted a boyfriend of his own, simply someone to fill that empty spot. The shot of jealousy he felt when he watched Blaine curled up so close with Nick was a pretty good indicator.

Just admitting it in his head felt wrong. After everything Blaine had been through, what he needed was someone to care about him, in an innocent, friendly way. He needed safety, not complications.

It would never work. Kurt just needed to forget about it.

But the seed, once sprouted, would not go anywhere but up.

Santana’s New Year’s Eve party wasn’t big this year, the only guests being people from New Directions, which was the only reason Kurt considered attending. He’d let Finn convince him to come after his dad and Carole promised they would take good care of Blaine and include him in their quiet celebration at home. He needed a break anyway, an escape from all the thinking he couldn’t get away from since his conversation with Jeff.

Going to the party turned out to be a good decision. Surrounded by his friends, Kurt found himself relaxing and having fun. He danced with Mercedes, sang karaoke with Rachel, drank champagne and watched fireworks at midnight. There was even a short, but fierce snowball fight in the backyard afterwards. Since Puck and Santana made sure there was more than enough liquor, Kurt ended up drinking way more than he’d planned. Which was great, up until the moment when his giddy, bubbly mood suddenly dissolved into something definitively darker.

He was sitting on the floor in the corner with Tina at that point, probably because they decided it was the surface least likely to sway underneath them. They were giggling madly, watching Puck hanging a spoon from his nose and trying to teach Artie to do the same, and then, within an instant it took to look at Rachel slow-dancing with Finn, Tina was suddenly dissolving into tears. The change was so rapid it almost gave Kurt whiplash.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He poked Tina’s side, confused. She just cried harder, falling sideways against him until her head was on Kurt’s shoulder.

“I wanna dance with him like that!” she wailed into his ear. Her tears were already seeping through his shirt. “I want him holding me, with his abs all hard against me and his moves so fluid and and–” She sobbed harder.

Kurt squinted at her. “Are you sure you’re talking about Finn?”

“Not F-F-Finn, Mike.” She sniffed loudly.

Kurt frowned, trying hard to locate any Mikes in the vicinity and coming up empty. He shrugged his shoulder a few times, making Tina sit back up and lean against the wall instead, before turning to face her.

“Who’s Mike?”

“Mike is the hottest guy on earth and he’s so kind and nice and pretty and I l-l-love him.” She stated and started crying again.

“Okay,” Kurt said cautiously, “but who is he?”

That made Tina pause and she frowned at him, clearly disapproving of his ignorance. “He’s a dancer at the club where Sam performs. The hot Asian one, remember?”

Kurt had a vague recollection that was made fuzzier by the alcohol in his system, but he nodded. Tina smiled through her tears. “Isn’t he dreamy?”

Kurt focused harder, trying to recall the relevant details of his one and only visit to the stripper bar in Westerville where Mercedes’ slave Sam danced sometimes. It was a challenge because he’d spent a big part of that visit trying not to look at the almost naked guys on the stage or any other mortifying details of the seedy little bar.

“But… isn’t he a slave there? Owned by the bar?” he asked without thinking it through, and then wished he hadn’t because the momentary smile was wiped right off Tina’s face as she buried her face in her hands, a fresh wave of tears flowing.

“He is,” she sobbed out. “He’s their slave and there’s no way I can afford to buy him and my parents don’t have the money for that either, and they refuse to take a loan and we just… we love each other, Kurt. And he has to dance for anyone there, and, and more.”

The crying was out of control now and Kurt patted her awkwardly on the shoulder and got up on unsteady feet to find her some tissues. There were none within sight though, and Santana was nowhere to be seen at the moment either, so Kurt went to the bathroom to grab some toilet paper instead.

On his way there, he couldn’t help but imagine being in Tina’s situation – what would it feel like, knowing that Blaine was out there, watched and touched by others, with nothing Kurt could do? The thought sobered him up pretty quickly, an empty feeling in his stomach making him nauseated.

Back with Tina, he passed her the wad of toilet paper and she blew her nose loudly before looking up at him with puffy, red eyes.

“We’re doomed,” she said gravely. “We can only watch each other from afar and sometimes steal a moment or a dance when I save some money. There’s no future for us, none!”

She slumped against the wall again, miserable, and Kurt froze, her words striking him to the core. No future. Wasn’t it exactly what he had with Blaine?

Because the longer he thought about it, the more he was certain he was indeed falling for Blaine. He’d known that already, hadn’t he? That’s why his mood had been so swingy these last few days – because he had feelings for Blaine, but Blaine was so hurt and damaged by his previous owners that there was no way Kurt could ever do anything about it. He would never hurt Blaine in any way, even if it meant he had to keep his feelings hidden forever.

So even though Blaine wasn’t a stripper at a seedy bar, he was just as unavailable to him as Mike was to Tina. No future there, either.

Kurt slumped against the wall next to Tina, feeling deeply unhappy. “We need more alcohol.”

If she noticed the change of his mood, she didn’t show it, just nodded and struggled up. “Yeah. I’ll bring us some.”

Kurt wasn’t sure what they ended up drinking – he just knew it was strong and citrusy, and they drank it straight from the bottle, passing it between them. They didn’t talk much, but being in this together felt strangely comforting.

By the time Finn found him and led him out to the car – or maybe hauled would be a more appropriate word – Kurt’s legs were doing really weird things and he still felt faintly nauseated. He demanded to have his window open on the way home and Finn, stone-cold sober as the designated driver, just sighed and agreed. By the time they delivered Tina, Rachel and Puck to their respective destinations and got home themselves, the biting cold air has done a pretty good job of sobering Kurt up, at least enough for him to walk mostly straight. 

The house was silent when they got there. Everyone was asleep, which was really no wonder since it was almost 3 AM. Finn said goodnight and, yawning widely, went up to his room, but Kurt didn’t feel sleepy. Even after the ride home, he still felt melancholy, the echoes of Tina’s words ricocheting through him. He went to the kitchen and drank a big glass of tap water, then opened the fridge, feeling kind of hungry. Nothing seemed appealing though, so he just grabbed a bottle of water to take to his bedroom.

On his way to the stairs, he had to pass by the door to Blaine’s room, which drew him like a beacon tonight. With barely a second of hesitation, Kurt quietly turned the doorknob.

Blaine was lying on his side with his back to the door and for a moment Kurt felt an irresistible pull to just get closer to the sleeping boy, maybe sit down on the bed. He’d touch Blaine’s wrist to feel his pulse, the reassuring rush of blood under warm skin. He’d listen to his calm breathing, gently stroke his hand over the now-healed expanse of Blaine’s back, and he would know that at least the boy was safe. Maybe Kurt could have nothing more, but he did have the certainty that as long as he was Blaine’s owner, the slave would be warm and fed and well cared for. That was enough.

He resisted – barely – the siren call of Blaine’s warm, sleeping body, but he couldn’t quite resist the wave of affection that washed over him as he stood in the doorway, watching. Tears that hadn’t come up when he was sitting in that corner with Tina, now threatened to choke him. He swallowed them too loudly in the quiet room and waited for the pain to subside.

“It’s okay,” he whispered when he could finally speak. “You’re okay. I’ve got you, and you’ve got me. We’ll be okay.”

Nothing stirred in the house, the silence buzzing in Kurt’s ears, and suddenly he realized how creepy the situation was. What was he doing, here in Blaine’s room in the middle of the night?

Face hot with embarrassment, he managed to step out of the room and close the door behind him without making any noise, and with a breath of relief, he tiptoed upstairs to his room.

In the dark, quiet room downstairs, one pair of eyes was wide open, one heart pounding rapidly in a skinny chest.