Blaine woke up the next morning at five o’clock exactly. Wes had always been an early riser, and Blaine had become one consequently. With two hours to kill, he headed down the hall to the kitchen in hopes of finding some leftover bread to eat. He was surprised to find Tina, sitting on a backless stool with her booted feet up on the counter. “Oh! Anderson! I’m so sorry-” She started to remove her feet but Blaine put up his hand. “Please. It is I who is invading your privacy. And if we’re going to live in the same house you needn’t worry about being proper.” He returned her grateful smile and gestured to her boots. “Aren’t those for men?”

She laughed—a lovely sound he hoped he’d get to hear more often.

“These were Michael’s ah one point, he went through a growing spurt at about 16. When we got married his mum was gonna throw ‘em out, but I kept ‘em, they’re well worn. An’ much more practical than ladies’ shoes.” Blaine laughed, only slightly jealous of how easy love was for Tina and Mike.

“I must say, they suit you perfectly.”

Tina’s smile was full of mischief “Ya sayin’ I’m a man, Mr. Anderson?”

“No! No! I-” She laughed again.

“I know what ya meant. I can see why Kurt likes ya.” Blaine’s smile slid off his face with surprise

“You two talked about me?” She shook her head.

“No. I can jus tell. Never seen him look at anyone like that since before his mother died, God rest her soul. “ Blaine blushed, but Tina continued.

“Mike said Kurt told you about our situation And about his bedroom. I hope ya realize how amazin’ that is.” Do they always regard Kurt in such a fragile manner?

“I do. But I don’t really understand why, out of all people, he confided in me.” Tina gave him a smile that made Blaine only wonder the extent of her knowledge.

“I know why.” She hopped off her stool and walked over to Blaine, their height almost equal with her boots.

“It’s because you’re so different from every single other person he’s ever met, Blaine. And different is exactly wha’ he needs.”

Tina tried to ruffle Blaine’s hair and pulled her hand away in mock disgust when she discovered the excessive pomade. Grinning, she walked over to her stove.

“How about some breakfast?”

Kurt was in the library when she appeared, like always. Her smile was radiant and she was wearing her slightly-dated but still stunning wedding dress, just like in the oil miniature his father doesn’t know he has.  She took his equally pale hand in hers, like always; but instead of leading him to the ballroom to sing, she lead him outside, into the garden. They walked arm and arm down a dirt path Kurt hadn’t noticed before, her dress trailing behind and making small dust clouds- it almost seemed like they were a part of some bizarre wedding party. She was oddly quiet, and suddenly she stopped and pointed wordlessly. Through a line of trees, sitting along ways off in the middle of a field was Blaine. He was cross-legged and the spring-green grass reached up to his belly button, but otherwise he was completely naked. Kurt looked back at her, his eyes meeting the ones bequeathed to him; she grasped his hand for a moment, kissed his forehead, and gave him a little push towards Blaine before walking back to the house. She didn’t look back. Kurt turned, and started walking towards Blaine. With every step he took, the trees separating them grew closer together. And soon, Kurt was running, almost flying; he had to get to Blaine before the trees closed him off. When Kurt made it to the tree line, there was no space left at the bottom, so he climbed up as high as he dared and jumped down to the other side. He was running towards Blaine, who had stood up and was smiling at him, but the closer Kurt got to him the more transparent Blaine became. When he finally reached him he grabbed at the faint outline that was left. He was crying, yelling for Blaine not to go, not to leave him alone and then he was totally gone. Gone because the forces against him had been too strong, because Kurt wasn’t fast enough. No…

Blaine had finished his breakfast and had prepared tea for Kurt’s morning. At quarter ‘til seven he noiselessly had entered Kurt’s white bedroom and set the tea carefully on the coffee table He had turned around to prepare a few outfit choices when he stopped dead. Kurt was still very deeply asleep. And shirtless. Blaine could see the discarded pajama shirt on the floor next the bed. Judging by the slightly ruffled look of Kurt’s hair he had pulled it off in his sleep, probably because he was too warm. The blankets had wrapped themselves around Kurt’s hips, and his feet were sticking out at the end. His head was lulled to the side next to his right arm that was sprawled on the pillow. In his left hand he had an extra pillow and he was gripping it so hard his knuckles were white. The light from the small window in the corner made Kurt’s pale skin glow, and once again Blaine wondered how someone could be that beautiful. He walked over to the bed to wake him when he heard Kurt mumbling in his sleep.

“No….stay….please….no.”

Kurt jolted awake and sat up straight in bed.

“Sir?!”

He looked to see Blaine standing by his bedside.

“Anderson!  My apologies.” Kurt shook himself slightly, very glad to have returned to reality.   “And good morning.”

“Yes, yes, good morning sir, but are you alright?”

“Just a silly nightmare, nothing to be worried about really.  They happen oh so often.”

Blaine nodded.

“There is a new study of science called psychology, sir, and they believe that dreams can tell us things about what we really think.”

Kurt faced Blaine in shock, stunned.

“Where on Earth did you learn that?”

Blaine shrugged. “McKinley isn’t the only house with a library, sir. Now, if you don’t mind my asking, what was your dream about? Maybe we can stop those nightmares.”

Oh you know the standard really. My mother, me spending the only time with her I can. Her leading me to your completely naked body that I couldn’t get to because stupid barriers were in the way. Not a thing out of the ordinary. Not one bit.  

“What are you, a budding psychologist? And I don’t remember it really, and it was more than likely foolish anyway, couldn’t have meant anything.” It meant I don’t want to lose you.
Blaine chuckled “I guess that’s the end of my psychology career. Pity, I’ll probably be in need of a new job soon.”

“And why would that be?”

Blaine looked at his feet, away from the beautiful half naked man in front of him.

“I just thought that after yesterday you wouldn’t want to have me work for you much longer.”

Kurt stiffened no, no! You have to stay.  “Anderson, I have a dreadful headache, and I can’t be bothered to deal with this at the moment. I’ll dress myself. Explore the house a little bit; you can have the morning off. I need to catch up on my correspondences.”

Blaine nodded, realizing that not touching Kurt was probably best for both of them at the moment. “When would you like me back sir?”

“Eleven. Thank you, Anderson, dismissed.”

As soon as Blaine closed the door Kurt slumped back into the pillows. How, how could he make this work? He knew he wanted Blaine, to add him to his list of secrets, he could use one he could finally be proud of. He sat up again and found his pajama shirt and carelessly threw it on back over his head. He stood up and walked over to the tea set Blaine had left. With his ridiculously ornate teacup in hand, Kurt walked over to his writing desk. He pulled out a heavy tan envelope and expertly addressed it:

Mademoiselle Mercedes Jones

749 W. Main St. Apt. 23

Paris, France.

He had met Mercedes two summers ago when he was studying art and literature in Paris. She shared his sharp wit, love for clothes and frequent moodiness. She was the only person outside of Mike or Tina (and well, Blaine) that knew Kurt’s secrets. They usually saw each other once every three months whenever there was a large social event relatively in-between their two homes. They kept their friendship going through absurdly long letters that were sarcastically indulgent when they were apart, and writing them was one of the few things that actually helped Kurt clear his head.

My darling most divine heavenly angel Mademoiselle Jones,

I hope you are well, my fair sweet nightingale. I am simply dying to know how Paris is this time of year. Are the blossoms out tempting and wooing the lazy, luxurious honey bees? Are the young Mousiers and Mademoiselles walking arm and arm around the delightfully green park by that horrid metal monstrosity? Or does it still reek of dung and gypsies in most places? My fantasies about Paris and the reality check I received on my first visit do not mesh well together. But truly, I do inquire of your health. In your last letter you said you were worried you were going to become ill? Is that oaf Samuel still after your hand? Darling, let’s be real, you can and should do better. I’m sure you’ll write back to inform me of your recent elopement with him, so congratulations. But I digress, my pet, for I have some news. I just recently received a new shipment of lace….

Kurt filled three pages with a description of his new fabric and the creations he was planning if he ever had the time. He then went on to update her about the family.

…If Finn picks the dreadful Miss Fabray I will seriously consider stabbing him. As I recently told…someone, once you get over the initial shock of Miss Berry she really is a treat. In fact, the other night at dinner she sang…

Finally, after yet another page of sarcastic descriptions of Paris, Kurt had no other choice but to address what had really been on his mind.

In other recent events, I hired a new valet. His name is Blaine Anderson and he is, thankfully, about the same age as us. I’d guess twenty-one, actually. Thank goodness father didn’t hire me some dreadful old man. Blaine, or Anderson I should say, is actually quite wonderful. He is a very kind person, Very trustworthy, for some reason I can’t stop telling him secrets. Or showing him them. Oh blast it! Enough of this nonsense! I really like him, Mer, I really do. But what if I screw him up too? What if he doesn’t want that? He obviously didn’t mind too much, but that was only the first day and what if he becomes sick of me? There are enough ‘what ifs’ to fill an entire book, I’m afraid, but I do believe I’m going for this one. Blaine will definitely be worth it, and even if it doesn’t work out, at least I’ve tried…right? Right. Oh, thank you so much for your help. You know, next week Finn is hosting a ball so he can have yet another opportunity to string both of those poor girls along, and even though I’m sure your invitation is in the mail, you really should come. I would love for you to meet him. And if the rejection I so fear does occur, I will need someone who will be able to comfort me fully (for unfortunately Tina shall be too busy preparing everything.) Oh please do come. It would truly be wonderful. Let me know as soon as you can, my love. Hope to see you soon.
Yours &c

Kurt Elizabeth Hummel

Kurt folded the last piece of paper.  He carefully placed it into the envelope. After a slight struggle to fit the entire 8 pages in, Kurt sealed it closed with a stamp of the Hummel crest.  He reached for a sip of his tea to discover it had gone cold. He looked at the white clock sitting on his writing desk. How could it be 10-oclock? Had he really been writing for three hours? Kurt shook himself out of his daze. Blaine was coming in an hour. He had to bathe, get dressed, and figure out what in heaven’s name he was going to say to Blaine.

Exploring for Blaine had stopped at the first new room he had come to. He had wandered in an opposite direction from the bedroom hallways and had thrown open the first enormous doors he wasn’t familiar with. The library. The room was the size of a small cathedral, with floor to ceiling shelves lining all four walls. The stacks continued the entire length of the room, with four equally gargantuan shelves placed at perfect intervals between the two on either end. It gave the room the look of a colorful cave with many different twists and turns, which could lead you to adventure, science or fantasy. There was a fireplace directly to Blaine’s right on the front wall, its white stone gleaming with a well controlled flame. Someone was already in here… Blaine looked out over the clusters of armchairs and tables that matched the ones in the ballroom and discovered a previously unnoticed Lord Hummel leaning against one of the shelves. Blaine gasped and quickly threw himself into a bow

“Your lordship! I am terribly, terribly sorry. I did not mean to intrude.”

“Are your duties for this morning done, Mr. Anderson?” It was the first time he had been directly addressed by his new employer, Lord Hummel’s voice demanded authority and respect.

“Yes sir. Master Kurt has given me the morning off.”

The older man shook his head “One of those days already? How unfortunate for you.” But there was suddenly laughter in his grayish eyes.

“Should I get used to it, sir?”

“I’m afraid Kurt can be rather moody, yes.”

“Sir, I would just like to thank you again for allowing me to serve in your home.”

“Thank you for coming here, truly. It will be good for Kurt to finally have a half-way intelligent Valet.”

Blaine was not used to being addressed in such a casual and complimentary tone by someone of such high power. Reminding himself that this was the man who married a commoner, Blaine replied

“Thank you sir. That is a generous compliment. I will leave you to your work now.”

“Did Kurt not explain the agreement to you?”

“Yes sir.”

“And you understood it?”

“Yes sir.”

“And you are leaving because..?”

Blaine paused.

“So I won’t be a nuisance?”

Burt chuckled. “Your guess is as good as mine, Anderson. Please stay, I’ll only be a few moments longer, I just wanted to get a book for Lady Carol. Ah yes.” He grabbed a thick green tome with a gold crest embossed on the front cover off of the shelf in front of him. “Genealogy. She wants to know more about the family she’s married into. This is the 3rd one of these she’s read.”

“Lady Carol is apparently not only lovely, but incredibly intelligent.”

The lord smiled. “That’s why I married her. I’m also glad you’re the type of person to see past where she came from and judge her accurately based on your own correct opinions.”

“I am not a big believer in things beyond someone’s control ruining their lives, sir.”

The smile turned into a grin “Very good. Well, Anderson, I will hopefully see more of you. Enjoy yourself.” Lord Hummel touched the book under his arm and swept out of the library.

Ignoring the voice in his head that was questioning whether or not Lord Hummel would indeed see more of him, or if he would have a job at this point tomorrow, Blaine turned towards the shelves. He grabbed a book at random; it was time to escape.

At three minutes past eleven(according to the clock) there was a knock on Kurt’s door. He took a deep breath and looked down at himself. Of course. He had just managed to get his pants and shirt on. Are you a fool? You have someone whose entire job description is to help you whenever you need it.

“Come in, Anderson.”

Blaine entered, and Kurt smiled slightly at the sight

“Been to the library?”

“How did you-?”

“Dust.”

Blaine blushed and quickly swiped his shoulders clean “Do you need help, sir?”

Kurt had managed to shrug into his jacket but was having problems with the bowtie. This suit was different shades of grey with a brilliantly purple bowtie, and of Kurt’s own design. Of course, no one could know that last part, but Kurt still got a thrill out of wearing something he had created.

“Yes, that would be lovely, thank you.”

Blaine walked over to Kurt and gently took the bowtie from him. As Blaine worked, Kurt swallowed a gulp of air and prepared himself. When Blaine was finished, Kurt fixed him with a gaze so intense Blaine could not back away.

“Anderson, I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier this morning.”

“Yes sir.”

“I’ve decided I simply cannot fire you. You’re the best valet I have ever had.”

“Thank you sir.” Blaine looked down at the floor.

“I’m not finished.” He looked back up and met Kurt’s gaze once again.

“If the other…aspect of our relationship were to continue as I would like, it could not be spoken of. To anybody.”

“A secret?”

“Yes. A secret.”

Blaine could feel his heart racing in anticipation as he looked up at Kurt.

 “Well Sir,” Blaine took a step towards Kurt who instinctively took one backwards.

“In case…” Step. “….You haven’t….” Step. “…noticed…” Blaine had backed Kurt up into the foot of the bed. Nowhere left to retreat, Kurt fell onto the bed, and Blaine walked over until his shins were touching Kurt’s knees.

“I’m really good at keeping secrets.”

Blaine bent down and pressed their lips together. Kurt quickly deepened the kiss, reaching out and pulling the shorter man onto his lap. Blaine wrapped his legs around Kurt’s waist and kissed him harder than he had ever kissed anybody in his life. He could feel their growing erections rubbing together with every little movement Kurt made. Blaine pushed him onto his back with a near animalistic intensity and quickly relieved him of his clothes. Blaine  pushed himself to his full height on his arms and looked down at Kurt.

“You said to explore the house today sir, but I feel  that exploring you would probably be slightly more enjoyable… don’t you agree?”

Kurt groaned, but didn’t have time to respond before Blaine smashed their lips together again. His mind filled with questions: Was this the right choice? Had he locked the door? Why did Blaine still have pants on? But then Blaine pressed a kiss to his collar bone and he stopped caring about anything else. He focused all his energy on where ever Blaine’s lips were at any given time. Blaine trailed kisses down Kurt’s jaw line and neck, and when he reached the never exposed shoulders he sucked harder, the new pressure eliciting several moans from Kurt. Blaine kissed a line down in-between Kurt’s pecs, stopping at a teasing distance from where they both knew Kurt really wanted Blaine’s mouth to be. He kissed his way back up and then circled Kurt’s right nipple with tiny kisses. When Blaine finally covered it with his mouth, Kurt cried out, never realizing before how sensitive those parts were. Yes, Blaine was exploring him, finding the best spots, what Kurt liked, what he didn’t like, and what he needed. Blaine lowered himself so he was fully on top of Kurt and kissed his way back up to his mouth. Just as Kurt was starting to lose himself in the kiss, Blaine slid one of his hands between them and removed his own pants. Both men groaned at the feeling of them rubbing together, but Blaine wanted to give Kurt more. He skimmed his hand over Kurt’s hard cock and lightly thumbed over the head, Kurt actually yelped, and Blaine quickly covered his mouth with his own lips to stifle it.

“Shh. You needn’t worry. This is what I’m supposed to be doing. It’s my job to fulfill…”

Blaine started kissing his way down again

“…your every….”

He was over Kurt again, still  wearing his jacket, crisp white shirt and new black bowtie, his hands on the outside of Kurt’s knees, his own erection against his stomach and he bent his head low over Kurt’s.

“…need.” The word came out as a hiss as he completely covered Kurt’s  cock with his swollen lips.

Kurt thrashed around wildly, and Blaine had to pin his legs down with his arms for both of their safety.  This time he thought he’d be a little more ready for it, but after Blaine had hit all of his sensitive spots this was a whole different thing. He didn’t even focus on trying to put his feelings into words; he just let Blaine bob up and down hungrily. Kurt tried to hold out as long as he could, but it was still over far too quickly. He came in Blaine’s mouth with a cry he hadn’t known he was capable of making and felt his valet swallow easily around him. After Blaine pulled off Kurt all but tackled him, tearing off his jacket, shirt, and tie and not even caring if they ripped. He greedily kissed down Blaine’s chest, enjoying the salty taste of his beautiful skin. When Kurt got to Blaine’s cock, he stopped, unsure of how to continue. He gave the head an experimental kiss, making Blaine groan louder than he had ever heard before. Still, Kurt knew he wouldn’t be able to get Blaine off properly while he was still coming down from his own high. He wrapped a gentle hand around the shaft and whispered “Help me.” Blaine’s hand joined him and Kurt locked their lips together as they pumped in unison As he came, Blaine groaned something sounding a lot like “Kurt” into his charge’s mouth. They broke apart and smiled at each other, equally sweaty and exhausted. Kurt flopped back against the pillows, tugging on Blaine’s arm until he joined him. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine and whispered into his ear

“We can clean up later, Anderson.”

Blaine turned so Kurt was still holding him but they were facing each other.

“Sir, when we’re alone, you can call me Blaine.”

“Blaine?”

“Yes?”

“You can call me Kurt.”