Blaine was relieved to wake up the next morning with his dick rock hard and aching for release. There was a blazing firestorm in his gut, the heat coiling inside him ready to burst at any given moment. It spread to his groin, leaving him twitching and writhing underneath the sheets. Toes curling, he tried his best to lie still, knowing that Kurt was still asleep right next to him.

Despite the torturous ache between his legs, his overwhelming relief outweighed his burning need to cum. He was just glad that he hadn't creamed Kurt's sheets at any time during the night.

He turned his head to look at Kurt lying beside him. He was snoring softy into the pillow, body turned away from Blaine. In his sleep, Kurt looked like an angel. His chestnut hair was tussled messily, flattened on one side from laying on it all night. He had a serene look on his face, almost as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Blaine's baser instinct told him to rub up against the warm body in his arms to relive some of the pressure that was causing him pain. But the trained sub inside of him knew better. Kurt would be extremely pissed and he was already working off one punishment. The only way he'd achieve salvation would be permission from his Dom. And Kurt, lost to Morpheus's clutches, was in no condition to grant him anything.

He wondered if Kurt was aroused. It was very possible; being that Kurt was a full-blooded male. But he wasn't brave enough to reach over and find out for sure. Kurt squirmed in his sleep, letting out a soft noise somewhere between a mewl and a sigh as he turned his head away from Blaine. His actions inadvertently caused ass to rub against Blaine's erection.

Blaine muffled a moan, closing his eye as the hard plane of Kurt's backside stimulated his rigid length. He stifled the urge rub against him even more, not knowing if he could stop himself once he'd started. Judging from how close he was, he knew that even a little bit would be enough to push him over the edge.

Luckily, before he could torture himself anymore by thinking about it, Kurt rolled over in his arms. Still half-asleep, he blinked drowsily at the sub. He looked entirely too cute like that, though he didn't think that that Kurt would appreciate the sentiment.

Kurt yawned before snuggling up against Blaine's chest, his head resting on his clavicle and his arm thrown on top of his chest. Kurt's face was pressed against the crook of his neck. And with every breath taken, small puffs of air would tickle his skin, aggravating sensitive nerves there.

Kurt hummed in content, closing his eyes as a wave of tranquility washed over him. This was the first time in a long time that he'd woken up in someone else's arms. And he was surprised at how much he liked the feeling Blaine's arms around him.

Blaine relaxed at the quiet noise, listening to the near silence of the room. The only thing he could hear was Kurt's soft breathing and the subtle noises of morning activity outside the window.

Upon hearing a car honk on the street bellow, he turned his head and glanced behind him to see sun shining in through the slits between the closed blinds. His black drapes were three fourths of the way shut, blocking out most of what was filtering through.

Kurt's apartment was nice enough that he had internal air conditioning, instead of the bulky AC unit that he had to wedge in his widow. Not that he had to worry about it this time of year. Winter was fast approaching, the days getting shorter and colder as time went by. Soon, he'd have to dig out his coat and gloves of his closet. But for now he was just enjoying the internal insulation, warming him up immensely.

As the realization that it was too early in the day for that kind of light sunk in, he tensed up, tearing his eyes away from the widow to look at the clock on the bedside table. It was a fancy digital one with enlarged red numbers displayed on the head. His eyes widened when he saw the time.

It was almost ten o'clock. Kurt hadn't set an alarm last night, which meant they'd slept in. He was supposed to be at work three hours ago, and was sure that by now his father was well aware of his absence. Kurt felt Blaine tense up and opened his eyes, looking at him curiously.

"What's wrong?" he asked. He sat up, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"I was supposed to be at work three hours ago." Blaine told him, fear flashing in his hazel eyes. Kurt stroked his arm, looking unconcerned by it all.

"Go call him and tell him that you caught a stomach bug and have been puking all morning." Kurt told him. Normally, he didn't condone lying but in this case, he made an exception. Blaine wasn't ready to stand up to his father on his own and armed with that knowledge, Kurt knew that pushing the situation right now wouldn't be in anyone's best interest.

"You can use my phone if you don't have a cell." He doubted that this was the case. In this day and age, everyone had a cell phone. It was more a matter of if Blaine left it at his house or not. "The cordless is in the living room."

Blaine crawled off the bed and lowered himself to the floor onto his hands and knees. He shuffled towards the door, not seeing Kurt smile proudly at him and lean back against the headboard. Kurt's bed was a large with a queen-sized mattress, a white fluffy down comforter and soft cotton sheets that he loved to cuddle up in at wintertime. The backboard was made of sturdy oak, painted black and carved intricately with spirals and designs.

"Bring the phone back in here." Kurt yelled after his retreating form.

His need to hear Blaine's father on the phone was strategic. He had an idea of what kind of man Mr. Anderson was, putting together a profile from the way Blaine talked and acted when he came up in conversation. But in order to get the full picture, he needed to hear the man for himself. Ideally, he wanted to meet him but he had a hunch that Blaine's father wasn't the kind of person to back down from a challenge without a fight. And even though Kurt had no problem going head to head with Blaine's father, he wasn't stupid enough to believe that any confrontation would leave Blaine unscathed. He would undoubtedly be stuck in the cross-hairs and Kurt didn't want to push the old man into giving Blaine an ultimatum he wasn't ready for emotionally.

Kurt stretched, sleep shirt rising as he lifted his arms above his head and felt his bones extend and pull as the tension was eased from them. He yawned, bringing a hand up to cover his open mouth, not even wanting to think about the awful morning breath he had.

Blaine returned not long after, struggling to hold the phone and crawl at the same time. In the end, he been forced to hold the small antennae in his mouth and carry it much like a dog would. Kurt smirked at the comparison, palming his morning wood through his pants. Blaine threw the phone onto the bed and then crawled up after it, pulling himself up using the muscles in his arms. Kurt rubbed himself harder, thinking of how many positions they could do with Blaine's upper body strength.

Blaine caught a glimpse of Kurt's burgeoning arousal, making him ever so painfully aware of his own. He started to crawl towards Kurt, the phone call to his father all but forgotten. He wanted nothing more than to serve Kurt, remembering the taste his seed. He could still savor faint remnants from last night but it wasn't enough to satisfy him. He wanted another dose.

"No." Kurt stopped him in his tracks, still palming himself, "Call your dad and then maybe I'll let you have a taste."

Blaine dialed the company's main number, entering the extension when prompted to direct him right to his father's office telephone. As he waited for someone to answer, Blaine continued to stare his Dom without shame. Kurt's eyes were closed as he stroked himself through his pants, giving himself over to his pleasure completely and Blaine willed his father to answer the phone so this could be over and done with.

Paula answered the phone, and Blaine was startled for a second. He'd been expecting his father to answer but now he remembered that all of his father's calls were first screened by his secretary to measure the valuable nature and importance of the person calling. Rich clients were always directed towards his father or one of the other senior partners. Anyone from the government, the mayor, a member of the D.A or someone equally as important was always given first priority.

"Mr. Anderson's office. How may I help you?" he heard Paula's clinical voice ask.

"Paula…. It's Blaine." Blaine said hesitantly. Kurt, upon hearing Blaine speak, removed his hands from his groin so he couldn't' distract himself. He wanted to be fully aware when listening to Blaine's father.

"One moment please. I'll ask if he wants to speak with you." Paula's voice sounded colder, if that was even possible, and he was put on hold.

"Put it on speaker phone." Kurt ordered. And without thinking about it, Blaine clicked the appropriate button and set the phone down on the bed in between them.

"I see you've finally dragged your lazy ass out of bed." George Anderson didn't bother saying hello, going straight for the kill before Blaine had a chance to explain himself.

Blaine's eyes widened at his father's tone. He was beyond livid, so far past it that he had a deadly edge tainting his voice. But he was still in control, not letting his obvious anger rule over his actions. His father had used it liberally during his childhood. Kurt recognized that tone as well. He'd often heard Kevin use it on some of his more disobedient subs over the years.

"I'm s-s-sorry, s-sir." Blaine stuttered in automatic response. He bit his lip, a nervous reaction that Kurt had noticed him using for a while now.

Feeling Kurt's eyes boring into him, Blaine looked up and took refuge in them. They leant him the strength he needed and he took a deep breath, trying to take control of the panic building up inside him.

"What did I tell you yesterday?" Blaine's father cut through his thoughts like a sharp, rusted knife.

"To be on time and show people that you didn't make a mistake giving me job." Blaine reiterated back to him, keeping his eyes on his Dom. Kurt stood up from the bed, walking towards where Blaine was perched. He took one of Blaine's hands in his own, letting him grip it comfortingly. The other went to the back of Blaine's neck, squeezing it firmly to let him know that he was here and that nothing his father said would change that.

"So tell me son," George spat out the word like it was something so vile that he couldn't stand to let it sit on his tongue for too long, "Why is it that you cannot follow the simplest of instructions? Or are you too strung out like all the other faggots of this world. Do you like embarrassing me like this?"

"No, sir," Blaine said softly. Kurt squeezed the back of his neck, reminding him of the reason for calling. "I don't like embarrassing you. I'm sick. I woke up and have been puking all morning" Blaine said, telling his father the lie that Kurt had given him.

Kurt frowned at Blaine's words, not liking the placating tone that Blaine had adopted. He wasn't arguing the fact that the assumed conclusion his father had come to, that any form of rebellion on Blaine's part was to embarrass him, was wrong. He just accepted the offense and moved on. It was clear now where Blaine's insecurities came from.

"Bullshit. You don't sound sick. Or are you too hung over to even think straight right now? I always knew you were a lush. Too much of your mother's influence that I haven't been able to beat out of you." Blaine's father viciously and methodically attacked him, making the sub curl up into himself with a pitiful look on his face.

Kurt wanted to say something in Blaine's defense, seeing that Blaine wasn't going to. He wanted to curse the man out with his forked tongue, knowing that he had the reputation of being a bitch when he wanted to be. But he had the feeling that announcing his presence would just make things worse. So he kept quiet, trying to reassure Blaine that he was here for him with touch alone.

"I'm n-not hung over." Blaine whimpered quietly. He hadn't had a drop of alcohol for a while now.

Feeling his panic rising again, Blaine clutched at his stomach, fearing that he really would be sick. A sudden onset of nausea that had nothing to do with actual sickness or consequences of alcohol consumption, threatened to overwhelm him. With one look at his rapidly paling face, Kurt knew what had to be done.

"Tell him you won't be coming in and then hang up, Blaine." Kurt whispered the order against Blaine's earlobe, making sure he was quiet enough that Blaine's father wouldn't overhear him. This was getting out of hand and he didn't need to hear anymore to know what sort of man Mr. Anderson was. He was a bully and if it was one thing that Kurt absolutely hated in this life, it was bullies. Especially bullies who used intimidation, guile and violence to get what they wanted.

Blaine looked up at him, eyes widened in shock.

Could he do it?

He'd never hung up on anyone before in his life. When telemarketers called his house, he would always wait patiently for them to finish before politely declining. Though, he was ashamed to admit that he'd bought products from some of the more demanding ones.

Seeing the hesitancy in Blaine's eyes, Kurt stared evenly at him, never wavering in his order with his body language. Blaine bit his lip and nodded, ducking his head.

"Are you ignoring me, Blaine?" The man bellowed over the phone, losing some of his control that he had perfected over the years. In his eyes, his son was an ever constant burden.

"N-no sir," Blaine stuttered, lying to him once again. He hadn't been ignoring him on purpose but Kurt had distracted him from the conversation, something that he was grateful for. His panic subsided as a title wave of courage beat his feelings of sickening terror into a shaky submission. He didn't want to be a part of this conversation any longer. He wanted to be sucking Kurt's dick, draining him of all his seed.

"I can't come in today. I really am sick. I'm sorry." Blaine said false confidence, and before he could second guess himself, hung up the phone. Staring at it in shock, he barely registered Kurt's arms wrap around him, pulling him into a hug.

Kissing his temple, Kurt pulled away so there was space between them. Blaine looked at him with wide eyes.

"I'm so proud of you, Blaine. I know that was hard." He told him. Blaine smiled shakily at him. Despite everything, hearing Kurt say that made him happy.

Blaine threw himself at Kurt, hugging him as if his life depended on it. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. But the desperate feeling in his gut told him that it could go either way.

"I have to ask you something, Blaine." Kurt said. His voice was serious but he never moved to pull away from the hug. "There were some things your father said that worry me."

Blaine's heart started beating rapidly as his ever present insecurities kicked up again. Was Kurt mad at him for how his father had behaved? He knew his father was a piece of work. His mother had often gone on numerous raging tirades about how selfish and horrible his father was. And this was before they'd gotten a divorce.

He'd only been nine at the time but he clearly remembered walking into his parent's bedroom, seeing his mother pour herself another glass of wine, silently crying. He knew, even at that age, that she hated her life and wished that she'd never met his father. Sometimes she even threw things and Blaine had learned at an early age to duck upon entering his parent's room, just in case. At one point she'd ended up needing a trip to the hospital to flush out all the consumed alcohol from her body. Blaine had been the one to find her passed out on their expensive Persian rug.

"What do you want to know?" Blaine asked trying to sound nonchalant about it. He knew he failed when Kurt pulled away from him and forced him to look at him.

"What did I tell you last night?" Kurt winced at how eerily similar he sounded like Blaine's father on the phone. But there was no way to take it back.

Blaine didn't seem to notice, blushing lightly when he thought of last night.

"That you aren't going to leave me." Blaine repeated. His erection had softened upon conversation with his dad but now it was valiantly making a return appearance. He couldn't help the feelings that Kurt stirred within him.

"And I meant it, Blaine. Unless you tell me that's what you want, you're stuck with me." Kurt said, successfully hiding the fact that he was scared that it might happen.

"I don't want you to be mad at me." Blaine said as an excuse for his actions. He was slowly starting to believe that Kurt wasn't going to abandon him like all the others but that revelation left another problem in its wake. He was, down to his core, a people pleaser. He hated the thought of Kurt being mad at him.

"That is out of your hands. And not something you need to bother yourself with." Kurt said. "Unless you willingly do something that you know is going to make me mad." He amended.

"I don't like it." Blaine mumbled, looking away.

"You don't have to. That doesn't mean it's not going to happen. I'm mean sure, we all hope that we never fight with our partners, but shit happens. It's how we recover from our fights that really matter." Kurt said. He sat down on the bed next to Blaine, running a hand through his dark curls.

"I understand." Blaine said with an unhappy pout. Didn't mean he had to like it.

Kurt laughed, drawing Blaine close. He looked so much like a puppy throwing a temper tantrum, bottom lip curled somewhat as he sulked. Kurt kissed him, unable to hold back. Blaine was too cute.

Blaine eagerly kissed him back, loosing himself in the feeling of Kurt's lips. They were just the right amount of plumpness, perfect for kissing. They kissed until the need for air became too great and they were forced to pull apart. Face flushed, Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck, keeping close.

He cursed the necessity of air, surmising the fact that he could happily spend the rest of his life kissing Blaine. A year ago, it would have scared him to think in such long terms. But seeing all his friends, settling down with the people they loved had lit a fire underneath him. Most of them were married and had kids. Those that weren't had been living in long term engagements that Kurt knew would eventually lead to marriage. For a while now it had seemed like he was still the odd man out. Even Puck, the man-whore of McKinley, had everything he sought after.

He wanted that happiness and stability. A person to celebrate successes and morn losses with, someone to cheer with. Someone to fight with. He wanted the other half of his soul. Though secretly, he never expected to find it. Blaine had changed that for him. He'd never felt such longing before. And it was the first time in his life that he allowed himself to think that this was mostly likely going to be forever.

His next thoughts sobered him up very quickly. Before any of this could happen, there were things that he needed to take care of.

"Blaine, I need you to be completely honest with me." Kurt said watching as the sub gnawed on his lower lip and finally nodded his agreement.

"Did your father physically abuse you? He mentioned something about beating something out of you. Were there any truth to those words?" Kurt asked. He didn't have to ask about emotionally. From what he could tell, Blaine's father had been emotionally abusing him all his life. He also suspected some sort of neglect, possibly from both his mother and father.

Blaine sighed, looking pitiful. Lying wasn't even an option at this point, not after Kurt's speech. He leaned against Kurt, needing the closeness to distract him from the painful memories.

"He slapped me once or twice but never beat me. It was mostly just yelling and cursing, even when he was drunk." He told Kurt truthfully.

His father had only laid a hand on him twice that he could remember. Once when he'd been running in the house and accidentally bumped into the table, knocking an antique vase that his father had bought in auction for a quarter of a million dollars off it. It had shattered upon impact with the hardwood floors, sending pieces scattering in every direction. The other time was right after his mom and dad had divorced. He walked into his dads study to see him knocking back a gulp of scotch. The bottle sitting next to him had been half empty. Even to this day, he'd never understood that dark look that his father gave him. After a few seconds of chilling silence, his father stood up and slapped him. It had been hard enough to send him to the floor, splitting his lip.

Strangely, his father never touched him when he'd caught Blaine and his first boyfriend the morning after he lost his virginity. He'd just given Blaine a look of utter contempt and sent him to board at Dalton for the remainder of his adolescent life.

Kurt didn't doubt him. For all his faults, Blaine's father was a man of impeccable control.

"I think he wanted to a couple of times though." Blaine continued, thinking about it. He could remember the burning rage his dad had in his eyes, seeing how close his father was drawn to the edge but always managing to pull himself back before he really did anything.

"And your mother? You've never told me about her?" Kurt asked, keeping a close eye on Blaine's expressions as he spoke.

"She and my dad divorced when I was eleven. She's still alive out there, somewhere. I haven't spoken to her in years. And she never hit me. She was always too drunk to do anything really, "Blaine replied, shrugging. "The one thing I did learn from her was how to make cocktails. She had me bartender for her all the time."

He had mixed feelings about his mother. She had never hurt him like his father had but she'd neglected him for most of his life. When he was little, he was her personal doll. Something she could dress up and show off. But as he grew older, the appeal wore off and she steadily starting ignoring and forgetting him places. She'd turned to drinking when he was seven, depressed about her loveless marriage and the son she never really wanted. After the divorce, she disappeared from his life, occasionally sending him postcards and birthday gifts if she was sober enough to remember.

It was easy to see why Blaine had gotten sucked into the scene. He wasn't seeking an authority figure. He had that in spades from his asshole father who liked to control every aspect of his son's life just because he could. He just wanted to be taken care of He was seeking someone who would fill the void within him that his heartless parents had left. Kurt wondered if Blaine had really ever felt loved in his life.

He chose to submit to others because it was role he was comfortable with. By giving up his control, he put himself in a situation that (if done correctly) forced the other person to take care of him. And if you combined that with his genuine need to please others and self deprecating personality, it left him open and vulnerable to those who would gladly use and abuse him. And judging from his past, Blaine may not be able to tell the difference between someone who was genuinely taking care of him or hurting him like his father did.

It was a pretty depressing situation and Kurt knew, now more than ever, that Kevin was right. Blaine needed to be taken care of. He needed it more than anything.

And maybe some part of him was wrong as well.

Kevin had told him that the reason he associated with a more dominant role was because he needed someone to worship him. It was true that he liked the feeling that came along with Blaine's absolute devotion. He thrived on the attention given to him but he couldn't shake the feeling that it was more than that.

The thought of Blaine standing up to his father, taking back some of the control he'd never had, made him happy.

And strangely horny. Kurt was hard again. He glanced down at Blaine's lap to see he had a similar problem. Feeling playful this morning, he grinned and stood up, making Blaine topple sideways abruptly. Blaine looked over at him in confusion, managing to catch himself before he tumbled to the floor.

Kurt sent him a brief apologetic grin and walked over towards the closet, shedding his shirt as he went. His pants and briefs came off next, dropping to the floor noiselessly. He stepped out of them but didn't turn around, giving Blaine a great view of him from behind. Blaine was momentarily distracted by Kurt's naked backside. The smooth flawless skin of his narrow back tapered down to sensuous hips and lower back, forming the swell of his pale ass. The two globes bounced slightly with every step he took.

Kurt glanced back, giving Blaine a sultry look over his shoulder.

"I think I'll go start breakfast." He told him, feeling Blaine's eyes rake over his body.

Blaine made an involuntary noise of discontent. It was soft, so quiet that it could have been mistaken for something else but the alarm that spread across Blaine's face gave him away. He thought for sure that Kurt would be mad at him but when Blaine looked up at him standing there, he was smirking. Slowly, his panic dwindled.

"What was that, Blaine?" Kurt asked, encouraging him.

Blaine opened his mouth to say something but abruptly closed it a second later. He had no idea how to ask and didn't want to make a fool of himself trying.

"Alright then, "Kurt said with a small shrug. His shoulder blades rose as he lifted his hands over his head to stretched, working out the kinks.

"If it's nothing, I'll just go and put some clothes on." Kurt continued, dropping his arms. He mentally applauded his acting skills, surmising that he must have gotten better at it over the years. Suck that NYADA.

"Sir," Blaine said, stopping him. Clothes's covering that beautiful body was the last thing he wanted.

"What?" Kurt asked as he turned to face Blaine, revealing his excitement to the sub. He put his hands on his hips pretentiously, daring Blaine to ask for what he really wanted. He wasn't going to give it to him otherwise.

"Sir, can we… I want…" Blaine trailed off nervously. He tried to lick his dry lips but it was almost as if he'd been sucking on mouthful of cotton balls. His mouth was bone dry.

"Say what you mean, Blaine?" Kurt waited patiently for him. Blaine's confidence was the first thing that needed to change.

"I can help you with that." Blaine said meekly, looking deliberately at Kurt's erection.

"I bet you can." Kurt replied with a smirk. "Ask me and see what happens."

"Can –" Blaine stopped himself, remembering his manners. He took a deep breath, hoping his voice wouldn't give out halfway through. Begging he was good at but that wasn't what Kurt was asking for.

"Please sir, can I… suck you off?"

His entire face flushed red and he pointedly avoided Kurt's eyes.

"Why are you so embarrassed?" Kurt asked as he stepped closer to him. He never stopped looking at Blaine, focusing on making the sub squirm.

Blaine refused to take his eyes off the floor, not actively defying him because Kurt hadn't technically made it an order.

"Answer me. Why are you so scared to ask me what you want?" Kurt rephrased, now standing close enough to the bed that he could reach out and touch Blaine.

"Because…" Blaine mumbled, biting his lip. "You might say no."

Kurt reached out with both hands, taking hold of his jaw. Leaning closer, he kissed Blaine on the lips, forcing them apart with this tongue. Kurt could taste the metallic flavor of blood and pulled away. This lip biting habit had to stop if it was getting so bad that it broke skin.

"You're absolutely right. I can say no and you have to accept it either way. That's my right as your Dom." He said firmly. Blaine whimpered, ducking his head.

His eyes softened, "But that doesn't mean you can't ask. How am I supposed to know what you like or what you dislike until you do?"

He thought they'd had this conversation, or one like it, when he'd spanked Blaine until he used his safe word. The situation worked both ways but Blaine didn't seem to understand that.

"Go sit up at the top of the bed." Kurt told him. Blaine scrambled, kneeling near the pillows before Kurt had moved another inch. Kurt smiled at Blaine's eagerness, finding it incredibly endearing.

"I'm happy you've opened up to me. I know that what we talked about is really hard for you, revisiting those memories. I have a few skeletons in my past that are hard for me to talk about as well." Kurt told him. He walked over to the adjoining bathroom and grabbed the lube he kept in there for practical reasons. Blaine's eyes widened upon seeing it.

"Now, don't get too excited. We're not going all the way." Kurt didn't want him to be too disappointed. But he felt that Blaine had earned what was coming to him. Climbing up on the bed, he laid down on his back beside Blaine.

Blaine eyed Kurt's bobbing erection hungrily the whole time, hands clenched tightly into fists to keep them from shaking in excitement.

"Give me your hand." Kurt told him. Blaine unclenched his fists and held his hand aloft for Kurt to take and manipulate. Kurt squeezed a line of lube onto one of Blaine's fingers and rubbed it in.

"Now, put it in me." Kurt instructed, watching Blaine's reactions carefully. His face exposed his surprise. Blaine believed this was all too good to be true.

Widening his legs, Kurt exposed his tight hole and testicles. Blaine kneeled in between his legs, shaky hands moving towards Kurt's entrance. As he approached the quivering muscle, he took a deep breath and tentatively poked the tip of his finger into him. He slid another inch in, making sure to go slow so he didn't hurt him.

Kurt groaned in frustration at the leisurely pace of it all and reached down, ramming Blaine's finger in the rest of the way. The sting was delicious, making him cry out. He'd always known, ever since he was a teenager first experimenting with masturbation and anal penetration, that he was a bottom boy. He loved the feel of a hard cock inside him, hard and unyielding as it forced its way past all his barriers, filling him up to the absolute brim.

Blaine eyes glazed ever and he swore that he was seeing stars. He couldn't believe how warm Kurt was and so fucking tight. As he felt the constricting pressure on his appendage, he marveled at how someone who wasn't a virgin could be this tight.

It all felt so amazing. And if this was how it felt to use his finger, he couldn't imagine how it would feel when he was allowed to penetrate him with his cock. Blaine expected explosions, mortar shells going off in the background.

It wasn't until he noticed Kurt's face screwed up in pain that he blanched, all those amazing feelings he'd had rapidly fading. He was hurting the man he loved, going too fast too soon. Of course Kurt needed to be stretched more. He probably hadn't had anyone in him in a long time.

For a few panicked seconds, Blaine started heaping the blame all upon himself, completely forgetting that Kurt had been the one to do everything. All he could hear was the painful cries of the man he loved.

"Shit, I'm so sorry!" He started to pull his finger out but Kurt held him in place, gripping his wrist fiercely.

"No." Kurt said giving him a meaningful stare. "I like it rough. Always have."

Blaine still didn't look convinced. He was worried that he really hurt his Dom with his carelessness.

"Are you questioning my judgment?" Kurt asked gruffly, sharpening his eyes. Because when it came down to it, Kurt was the one who made the rules. Blaine's only job was to decide if Kurt's decisions pushed him past his hard limit.

"No sir." Blaine replied quietly.

"I can't hear you." Kurt said while congratulating himself on his ability to think with Blaine's finger inside him. It felt so good. He thought of the first night they'd met and had sex. Blaine was very well endowed and he looked forward to breaking more boundaries, mainly his own.

"No sir." Blaine repeated louder.

"Good." Kurt told him, "Put another finger in."

Blaine attempted to remove his finger to add more lube but Kurt's unrelenting hand wouldn't let him.

"Did I say you could take it out?" Kurt asked as his eyebrow rose questioningly.

"N-no you didn't… but the lube—

Kurt cut him off, reaching up to flick him in the forehead with his unoccupied hand.

"I didn't tell you to use any lube." Kurt said and Blaine gulped.

"Yes sir." He said and plunged another finger into Kurt's heat.

Kurt hissed at the intrusion, throwing his head back against the pillow. Blaine paused to give Kurt time to adjust but the fact that his erection never wavered told him that Kurt was genuinely enjoying what was being done to him.

"Move, Blaine." Kurt told him, squinting through eyes he'd never realized he'd shut.

Blaine methodically pushed his two fingers in and out, watching with hungry eyes as they disappeared into Kurt's small hole, the muscles surrounding them swallowing his digits greedily. He felt a drop of pre-cum drip down from his tip of his weeping cock, telling him how perilously close he was to breaking Kurt's rule on orgasm.

"Sir… I…" Blaine moaned, trying to get Kurt's attention on the matter. He bit back a scream as Kurt wrenched the waistband of his pants down around his crotch and flicked his hard length. Letting go of his pants, they sprung back up over his erection.

"Remember what I said, Blaine." Kurt told him, "Do what you have to."

Blaine reached down into his pants and clamped his fingers around the base of his erection.

"Please sir." Blaine begged, not knowing how long he could hold out. He obviously needed another lesson on endurance. Kurt knew exactly where all his pleasure buttons were and took sadistic pleasure in pushing them.

"Keep going." Kurt said, feeling Blaine slow his thrusting fingers as he tried to stop from cumming prematurely.

"Sir…" Blaine panted, eyes squeezed shut.

"Do I need to gag you?" Kurt asked. Blaine shook his head wildly. Any movement would require him to stop and pull out of Kurt's warm body, something that he was adamantly against.

"Good. Now give it to me." And what normally would have been a plea came out as an order from Kurt's lips. He widened his legs even more, showing off flexibility that he'd long since used back in his martial arts training and his short stint on the cheerios.

Blaine's eyes widened when he realized what Kurt was doing. While in the process of making him extremely frustrated, Kurt had also set the pace, allowing him to be rough with him. Kurt wanted Blaine to take out his frustration out on his body.

With that newfound epiphany Blaine drilled Kurt hard, shoving his fingers in as far as they would go. Kurt screamed as the endorphins in his brain turned the intense pain he was feeling into rapturous pleasure. It was a natural high that no drug could ever get close enough to compare to.

Blaine, naturally, was worried at first, never having had a Dom that would subject himself to this. Then again, he'd never met a male Dom that preferred to bottom so it was all pretty much new territory for him.

His next thrust managed to hit Kurt's prostate, making the taller man convulse. Blaine, knowing what that spot would do to him, continued to pound that same angle, nailing Kurt's sensitive gland every time. After the fifth strike, Kurt threw his head back in a soundless scream and arching off the bed as he erupted, spilling his seed all over his chest and up on Blaine's neck. The pressure that Blaine had previously felt was nothing compared this. Kurt's muscles fastened around his fingers, spasming so hard that it was almost his undoing.

"Oh my god," Kurt chest heaved as he sucked in large quantities of air and exhaled, filling the room with gaseous carbon dioxide byproduct. "That was…" He had no words to finish with.

Blaine whimpered, caught between a rock and a hard place. He didn't know what he wanted more. It was a tossup between leaning down and licking Kurt's seed off his sweaty chest or gripping himself harder to stave off his oncoming orgasm. He could feel it coming and was contemplating taking the punishment just so he could end it all.

Kurt wanted to draw it out more, enjoying the control he had over when Blaine could ejaculate. But knowing that Blaine was in danger of actually hurting himself, it would have to wait for another session. Grabbing hold of Blaine's length, Kurt jacked him off mercilessly, using his own pre-cum as natural lubrication.

"Go ahead." Kurt said, giving Blaine the permission he needed. He fisted him through his orgasm, holding him down as Blaine bucked up from the force of his release, staining the inside of his pants with his semen.

Blaine passed out from the intense pleasure, much like he had their first time together. He fell face-forward into Kurt's safe clutches. Kurt carefully laid him down on the pillows, not bothering to change the sheets until Blaine had a shower. He would just dirty new ones. Tucking him in, Kurt stood from the bed, smiling down at his sub.

"Get some rest, Blaine," he told the unconscious figure, "You're going to need your stamina for later."

Walking over to the bathroom, he pulled off his shirt in preparation for a nice relaxing shower. Afterwards he'd make an early brunch. Blaine would be hungry after such vigorous exercise.

He sure was.

Blaine woke up feeling boneless. His entire body was loose, all the knots and stress that his life commanded were magical gone. Hearing nothing but the silence of an empty room he sat up and looked around. Kurt was nowhere to be found and the morning light had faded into a dull glow, barely lighting up the darkness of the room.

He rolled over to see the time and jumped out of bed in surprise. It was nearly five o'clock in the afternoon. After their romp this morning, he'd slept all morning and into the evening.

Looking down, he became distracted by his clothes. Pinching his shirt in between his thumb and pointer finger, he pulled the fabric from his body in confusion. He distinctly remembered falling asleep last night in t-shirt and a pair of Kurt's old sweats. But now he was wearing his own pajamas, which consisted of black, red and white plaid sleep pants and his old Dalton sweatshirt that still fit him after all these years. He was also wiped clean, no trace of sweat or dried semen caked to his body. Looking back at the bed, he noticed that the sheets had been changed.

The bedroom door was closed and he took a step towards it before realizing that he was breaking the rules. Dropping to his knees, he sincerely hoped that Kurt would forgive him since he had just woken up and was disoriented. Not that Blaine ever wanted him to find out. He didn't want to disappoint his Dom, even if Kurt ended up forgiving his slight.

He crawled out of the room, using his hands to open the bedroom door and wandered out into the hallway. He could hear the TV in the living room, playing a familiar sitcom and the sounds of someone puttering around in the kitchen. When he got to the living room, he saw Kurt standing in the kitchen, stretching to get plates form the top shelf of the cupboard.

Kurt was dressed comfortably, in black sweat pants and long sleeved grey t-shirt. On his feet, he wore a pair of grey fuzzy slippers that did nothing to help the traction as he turned and padded across the kitchen to another cupboard. Whatever he was searching for, it hadn't been in the first place he looked and was now methodically checking every cupboard to find it.

It was a surprise to see Kurt dressed so casually, in something other than his stylish clothes he wore to work and the clubs. But more than that, he was shocked to see that Kurt was wearing thick framed glasses, perched on the bridge of his nose. He looked gorgeous with them on, even though he suspected Kurt might think they did the opposite. Before he could say anything, Kurt turned around and saw him, kneeling on the floor in between the kitchen and the living room.

"Hey," Kurt smiled, "I was worried you weren't going to wake up until tomorrow and I'd have to call you sick into work again."

Blaine blushed, embarrassed by his lack of foresight. All those sleepless nights finally caught up with him and his duel orgasm last night and this morning certainly didn't help.

"I haven't been sleeping very well." He said, telling Kurt the same thing he'd told his father yesterday. Last night was the first time in a week that he'd slept so well.

"I can tell. You slept straight through the bath I gave you and didn't stir when I changed your clothes." Kurt said. He was a little worried about that. "Any particular reason?"

Blaine's blush enveloped his entire face this time, "You. It was hard sleeping without you after those first few nights."

Kurt smiled warmly. He leaned down and pecked Blaine on the lips.

Blaine felt Kurt's glasses on his face and when Kurt pulled away, stared at him dumbfounded.

"What?" Kurt asked a little self-consciously. He wasn't used to seeing this type of awe on Blaine's face without a reason. "Is there something on my face?"

He had been cooking dinner and cooking meant sampling. Did he get some of it on his face? He reached up to check and found nothing.

"You're wearing glasses?" Blaine said, not sure why it was so amazing to him. He'd never seen Kurt wear them before and wondered how he could have missed something that big. Of course Kurt hadn't made it very obvious. He must have been wearing contacts the last time he'd slept over at Blaine's house and gone to bed without putting them on after taking them out for the night.

"Yea," Kurt's blush was a lot more noticeable, his pale skin doing him no favors in that regard. "Ugly aren't they? I would have worn my contacts but I forgot to take them out last night. When I woke up this morning my eyes were all dry it hurt like hell taking them out. So I thought I'd give them a rest while you were out of it."

"I don't think it's possible for you to be ugly." Blaine was positive that Kurt could be wearing a burlap sack and he'd still be hot as hell. Of course, the first thing he'd do is have him take it off but that was neither here or there.

Kurt brushed off the compliment with a wave of his hand.

"What's weird is that in high school, I had perfect 20/20 vision. It wasn't until two years ago that my eyes started to go bad. I consulted a doctor and they did tests to make sure that it wasn't something more serious, like a tumor or retinitis pigmentosa. But it was nothing like that. They said it's just something that happens. My doctor prescribed glasses for me to wear but I went straight to contacts, choosing only use my glasses when I have to. Hence the reason they look so outdated. I never bothered to find a more stylish pair." He said, adjusting the black frames.

"I think they suit you. They don't make you look nerdy at all. You look sophisticated" Blaine said which made Kurt blush and look away. He'd never known how to take a compliment well, choosing to deny it or brush it off like it didn't matter.

Blaine noticed this and frowned. Had no one ever told Kurt how beautiful he was?

"If you don't like it, why have you never gotten your eyes corrected?" He asked. Money obviously wasn't the problem and judging by how much Kurt seemed to hate them, corrective eye surgery would be his best option.

Kurt shrugged, "At first I didn't really have a lot of spare time, spearheading a magazine is a lot of work. And then making the appointment just grew to be a hassle. I'm sure my assistant has it somewhere on my to-do list. But it was never a big problem for me. I don't mind contacts."

"How did I get my pajamas?" Blaine asked, sensing that Kurt would rather change the subject.

"I went over to your apartment and grabbed some stuff for you. A toothbrush, a suit for tomorrow, bottles of hair gel that you seem to be stocking up for a nuclear disaster, stuff like that. I found your cell phone charging by your bed so I grabbed that too. I figured you could stay over another night and just go to work from here tomorrow. If I forgot something we can always run over later and get it." Kurt said, like it was no big deal. He'd used the key that Blaine had stashed in his glove box last night to get in and locked it up on the way out.

Blaine was touched at his consideration, giddy at the chance to stay another night. Now he could just enjoy the entire night instead of dreading the end of it, not wanting to leave.

Blaine's stomach growled loudly, interrupting any more of their chat. Blaine bit his lip, his face red from embarrassment. But Kurt just laughed.

"I thought you'd be starving. We had kind of a late dinner last night but you had nothing this morning. Dinner is almost done." Kurt told him, twirling around to the stove. He picked up the wooden spoon from the small ceramic holding dish sitting on the stovetop and stirred whatever was cooking on the front burner. There was a larger pot on the back burner, slowly cooking its contents. It all smelled delicious.

"I'm making spaghetti with homemade marinara sauce. One of my mom's specialties." Kurt announced, not bothering to turn around. "You can change the TV if you want or put in movie. I just put it on for background noise."

Blaine nodded and crawled over to the couch. An old rerun of M.A.S.H was playing and Blaine decided to leave it as it was. He settled down on the plushy microfiber to watch one of his all-time favorite shows.

After his mom and dad had split, before his dad shipped him off to Dalton, he liked to sneak over to the neighbor's house to hang out. No one in his neighborhood would play with him, either intimidated by the wealth his family possessed or the rumor that he had a crush on a boy in his class. His neighbor was a crotchety old man, who sat in front of the TV all day and ranted about how life was going down the pisser more and more each day. He wasn't afraid to share his opinion about the state of the government, not really taking either side of the spectrum. He just loved to complain about it all.

Mr. Gunderson hated most kids. They were loud, disobedient and rude. And now that his kids were older, with kids of their own that he rarely ever saw, he'd grown intolerant to their pranks and mischief. Blaine was the one exception. He'd never admit it, but he had a soft spot for the poor boy.

Every day for an entire summer Blaine would go over and sit with the old man on his lumpy couch, watching old westerns and reruns of M.A.S.H. As an old war veteran himself, he loved to regale Blaine with real horror stories about the Korean War to compare differences and similarities. Blaine loved to sit listen to him. To this day, that summer was the best of his life. And it wasn't until his father found out about his near daily visits that he was forced to stop. His father had been worried about people seeing him and didn't want rumors to squash his reputation.

About a month later, the old man died on his couch, splayed out in front of the TV playing the series finale, 'Goodbye, Farewell, Amen'. His kids came by the next day, packed up all his stuff and sold the house, seemingly happy to finally be rid of him. Blaine remembered hating those ungrateful assholes, fantasizing about throwing rocks at them as the herded the guys they hired to move all of their father's belongings out of the house. He would have given anything to have a father like that old man and they took it for granted.

"Blaine?"

Blaine looked up from the screen at the sound of his name. Hawkeye and Trapper were in their tent, drinking from their homemade still and making fun of Frank again.

"You're quiet. Is everything ok?" Kurt asked him.

Blaine nodded and looked back at the TV. The scene had changed to Colonel Blake's office. Margaret Houlihan was in the middle of full blown rant about something. Radar was standing in the background, holding a clipboard of papers that the colonel needed to sign and initial. The Colonel was seated at his desk, looking frustrated at the woman yelling at him. Blaine still laughed every time anyone called her hot lips, reminiscent of the old man and the good times they shared.

"I like this show. It holds some good childhood memories for me." Blaine said in lieu of a real answer.

Kurt smiled down at him, one of his soft hands running through his sleep-mussed curls.

"Really?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow. It was such an old show and not many people their age even knew about it.

"Yea, Alan Alda was my first celebrity crush." Blaine said proudly. Kurt laughed, shaking his head fondly.

"Wasn't he the main character? Named after a bird or something?" Kurt asked. Blaine nodded, lips pursed in thought.

"One of them. He had top billing. He played Hawkeye, named after the book, 'Last of the Mohicans' though that was just his nickname." He pointed at the screen as the man in question appeared, flirting heavily with one the nurses.

"He's kinda…" Kurt titled his head, uncertainly. He scratched the back of his head, trying to see where the attraction lied. He wasn't ugly per se, but he wasn't anything that Kurt would jump for. His yellow teeth stood out on the screen and his hair had light streaks of grey in it. Plus, his laugh kind of resembled a braying donkey.

"Rough. Isn't he?"

He didn't want to hurt Blaine's feelings, now that he knew he'd once had a crush on him.

Blaine was silent for a moment as he mulled his thoughts over in his head.

"I guess so. But it wasn't his looks that attracted me. It was his morality, his inherent sense of doing what was right. He always finds a way to brighten a horrible situation with jokes and barbs but still cares so much about all his patients." He finally said, looking up at Kurt.

'Kind of like you' Blaine wanted to add but he didn't dare. He thought back to this morning, remembering how patient and gentle he was regarding his father. But what really reminded him of Kurt were his eyes. He and Hawkeye shared two of the most beautiful set of blue eyes on the planet.

"I've honestly never seen it. My parents used to watch it when I was younger but after my mom died…" Kurt trailed off, interrupting him from his musings. His smile saddening just a bit, "I don't think my dad could handle watching it without her. Every time I'd try, he'd make an excuse to change the channel. I never pushed him on it."

Blaine blinked curiously. This was the first time Kurt had outright admitted that his mother was dead. He remembered little snippets of information that Kurt had given him, all talking about her in the past tense. But now he knew for sure.

"What happened?"

Though it appeared to be a painful subject, Kurt was never hesitant about talking about her, even if it he wandered into the realm of nostalgia. Blaine was just now noticing this.

"She was hit by a drunk driver on her way home from work. The drunk ran a red light as she was making a left turn at an intersection and hit driver's side. The police said she died instantly with almost no pain. He meant it to be a comfort but to an eight year old, that didn't matter. All I knew was that my mom was never coming home."

Blaine looked contrite, almost wishing he hadn't asked in the first place. From the way that Kurt spoke about his mom, they must have been very close. He couldn't imagine losing his someone like that.

"But I guess you know a little of what that's like." Kurt smiled sadly, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. He blinked them away, clearing his throat.

Blaine cocked his head, confused and a little surprised at Kurt's words. "What do you mean, Sir?"

Blaine would never trivialize Kurt's suffering that way, comparing his mothers actions with what had happened to Kurt. Though he'd lost his mother around the same time, the circumstances were completely different. Blaine's mother had left him and was still alive somewhere out there.

"In a way, I think that what your mother did was far worse. At least I knew that my mother loved me and that she didn't leave me of her own free will. Yours just up and abandoned you." Kurt continued.

"But I still have a chance to reconcile with my mom. You'll never have that chance." Blaine mumbled quietly.

"There's nothing to reconcile. She never did anything wrong." Kurt said. He grabbed one of Blaine's hands and squeezed it tightly. There was a chiming sound from the kitchen that disrupted their conversation.

It was the egg timer that Kurt had set, letting him know that the sauce was done boiling. Kurt gave Blaine's hand one last squeeze before standing up to go check on it.

"Just remember, Blaine. Suicide is painless." He said as he walked away. Blaine giggled, burying his face into the couch.

A few minutes later, Kurt poked his head out of the kitchen.

"Go set the table and turn off the TV on your way." He said as he held out two forks for Blaine to take. Blaine tumbled off the couch and crawled over to the TV, pushing the small power button on the front of it and quickly crawled over to grab the silverware.

Kurt's dining room table was rather small but considering that Kurt lived here alone, it seemed big enough for both of them. Black cloth woven place mats were already set out so he placed one of the forks in its appropriate place off to the side of the mat. Blaine wasn't sure if he was going to be allowed to sit at the table or on the floor, so he kept the second fork for himself in case Kurt was mad that he assumed he had a right to sit where he wanted.

In the middle of the table sat a dark wood, decretive candlestick holder. Two white long stem candles were placed in metal bases and neither of them had any evidence of ever being lit. Blaine tried not to think about what that meant. It could just be that Kurt used them for decoration only or that he'd never invited anyone over to his place for a romantic meal. If that was the case, Blaine felt privileged to be the only one.

Kurt returned with plates full of food. Frowning at the placement, he gestured towards a large cabinet near the wall. It was a tall one, almost ¾ of the way to the ceiling and had silver painted brass handles.

"There are some plastic place mats in there. The ones on the table are for decoration." He corrected and Blaine crawled over and opened the cabinet, seeing the mats lying on one of the shelves. Expensive wine glasses were racked near the top, hanging upside down from their bases.

After Blaine replaced the decorative mats with the plastic ones, Kurt set the plates down on them, confirming that Blaine was allowed to sit at the table.

Dinner passed by in a blur and they spent it talking more about their childhoods. Blaine learned a lot about Kurt in that time. He spoke about his bullies in high school, how they had tortured him mercilessly and that the glee club had been his only real friends. Seeing the misery in the Dom's eyes when he talked about it was heartbreaking and Blaine was scared to ask if the bullying got so bad that he'd ever entertained the idea of suicide. Kurt never said and in the end, Blaine wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

He talked about all his old friends kindly, telling him about all the New Directions drama. Even going as far as to tell him about the crush he'd harbored on his step-brother and that he was the reason he and Finn's mother got married.

Blaine countered with tamer stories about his time on the Warblers. Though it was a school of teenage boys, their shenanigans never seemed to compare to the craziness that was New Directions. Senior year he'd made the council while still somehow maintaining the spot of lead soloist.

When they'd finished eating, Kurt allowed Blaine to stand long enough to do the dishes. Once he was done, he got back down on his knees and crawled over to where Kurt had sat on the couch, quietly reading a book. Curling up at his feet, Blaine dozed quietly. The TV stayed off and Blaine never asked to turn it back on. He was content to lie there, listening to the sounds of the room.

There was a grandfather clock sitting in the corner of the room, the golden pendulum ticking with every sideways swing. It was sculpted dark brown wood with a silver and gold colored face plate and a glass door protecting its entrails from meddling fingers. Blaine was surprised at seeing such an antique piece, unsure of how it fit in with the modern décor of Kurt's apartment. But strangely, the time piece seemed to fit Kurt. And now that he knew it was there, he couldn't imagine the young Dom without it.

A yawn overtook him. He was still so tired. All the accumulating stress that he'd built up over the last few weeks had taken a toll on his mind and body.

"I can't believe your still tired? You slept all day." Kurt said looking up with his book, shaking his head in a mixture of genuine surprise and amusement.

Blaine flushed a dark red color, "Sorry, sir."

Kurt sighed, setting his book down on the table. "There's nothing to be sorry about. I'm just shocked that you're still tired. You only woke up two hours ago."

He couldn't deny that he was still worried about that. He couldn't believe that all of Blaine's sleepless nights were caused by longing for Kurt's company. There had to be more to it than that.

"Does your father always give you a hard time?" Kurt asked, well aware he was drifting back into topics that could trigger some bad memories. He didn't think that Blaine was lying to him, more that he wasn't telling him the whole truth.

Blaine nodded. He couldn't remember a time when his father wasn't like that.

"And how do you usually sleep, you know, before you met me?" Kurt questioned.

Blaine didn't reply at first, looking down at the floor. He knew what Kurt was fishing for.

"Not very well. I guess I'm somewhat of an insomniac." Blaine replied, truthfully. He knew why. He constantly worried that he was going to screw it all up, his life, his job and now his relationship with Kurt. And it kept him up at night, refusing to let him sleep until the early hours of the morning.

He knew that it wasn't healthy but he was too afraid to go to the doctor in case his dad somehow found out.

"Stress related, I'm guessing." Kurt commented, though he didn't really expect an answer. Blaine was going to crash soon if someone didn't stop him. Kurt elected himself to be that someone.

Blaine nodded.

"What do you do at your job?" Kurt asked, curiously. The most he knew about being a Lawyer was what they showed on movies and TV.

"Mostly paperwork and appointed gopher duties. I get everyone coffee and run files to and from places. I'm not qualified to do anything else, not without a degree. I don't even have the authority of a paralegal, at least not yet." Blaine replied. His job was rather superficial and sounded cooler than it really was. It was easier to say that worked in a law office than having to explain it all.

He nuzzled Kurt's ankle, sucking on the small protruding bone near top on the inside of his joint. Kurt giggled and pulled his foot away from Blaine's eager mouth.

"That tickles." He complained. "Plus that's kind of disgusting. Licking someone's feet? I was never able to do that."

Blaine smiled, shaking his head. A lot of the things that Blaine had once found disgusting didn't seem that way with Kurt. There wasn't one spot on his body that that he wasn't craving to taste.

"Have you finished law school yet?" Kurt asked, hoping to distract Blaine from his feet. He wasn't sure how he felt about Blaine servicing him down there. Blaine didn't seem disgusted by it, quite the opposite since he had been the one to initiate it. Kurt had limits as well and sharing bodily functions had always been one of them. But maybe after he got used to it, he'd indulge Blaine.

Blaine shook his head, "No, I'm in my third year. I'm doing an internship at my father's company this semester with three additional classes on Saturdays. I am scheduled to graduate in the spring." Hopefully, he silently added.

His grades were abysmal, barely passing at this point, even after all those late night study sessions he'd been taking. Next spring, he would be lucky if he was even going to graduate. Blaine was smart, smart enough to pull straight A's at Dalton, who expected great things from their all their students. He'd taken a lot of college courses his senior year so he'd only spent a year after high school earning his undergraduate degree. His father had been disappointed when he'd chosen NYU over Harvard. Both schools had accepted him, with generous recommendations from his father, but Harvard had been too intimidating for him. Now that he knew how hard it was, he was glad that he'd chosen NYU. He hated to think how much more difficult it would have been at an Ivy League school. Blaine was smart but the intricate studies of Law had never made any sense to him, no matter how hard he studied.

The night he met Kurt had been the first time in a month that he'd gone out. All the stress had finally got to him and Wesley, one of his closest friends since high school, practically forced him out of the apartment, dragging him out to the clubs. He'd lost track of Wes about an hour later, guessing that he'd gone home with one of the many prospective suitors that had been hanging on his arm all night. Blaine had been ready to leave after that, gearing himself up to go home and hit the books but at the sight of Kurt standing at the bar, his plan was forever ruined.

Sensing his dejection, Kurt patted the sofa beside him.

"Come sit up here with me." He said, "Lay your head down on my lap."

Blaine climbed up and happily lay on his side, curling his right arm underneath his body. He lay his head on Kurt's thigh, emitting a small moan in pleasure when Kurt starting stroking his hair, playing with the stringy curls.

With little prompting, Blaine explained his school standing. He expected Kurt to look at him in disappointment, sure that he would think of him as a failure. But he didn't take into account Kurt's sympathetic nature and immediately after, felt like a jerk for insulting Kurt in that manner.

"I don't doubt how hard it must be. Whenever I have to talk to the magazine's lawyer, I have to ask him to dumb it down for me. To some people it makes sense, to others it doesn't. That's just how the world works." Kurt replied as if it was as simple as that. And to him, it probably was.

But Kurt didn't know how much his father was going to freak out if he didn't graduate. It would reflect badly on the Anderson name, his father's reputation that he worked so hard to protect. If he didn't graduate in the spring, his father was going to kill him. He managed to scrape by these last four years, somehow completing his classes with the lowest grade possible that was still passing. But it wasn't going to matter if he didn't complete his courses this semester. He was already failing one of his classes and as of right now, had no idea how he was going to pick up his grade enough to pass.

"That's not going to matter to my father. He's not going to be so understanding. He completed law school in three years and expects me to do the same."Blaine shivered, tearing up. He buried his face into Kurt's thigh, biting his lip hard.

"Hey," Kurt said as he pulled him up into a sitting position beside him. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Your father does that enough for the both of you."

"What am I going to do if I don't graduate?" Blaine whispered sadly. It was as if he thought his father was with them in the room and was in danger of overhearing.

"The world is not going to end if you have to take another year." Kurt said, "And I don't care what you father says. Your amazing Blaine and I'm so proud of you."

Blaine looked shocked, "You are?" He was failing. How could he be proud of that?

"I am." Kurt nodded and kissed him chastely. "You are so selfless Blaine. You never give up and I have no doubt that with a little tutoring and some hard work, you're going to graduate in the spring. But that it's not going to make you happy. It might for a little while because it's going to make your father happy but after the hype wears off and you really start working as a lawyer, you're going to hate your job even more than you do now."

"But my dad—"

"Stop thinking about your dad," Kurt cut him off. "He's never given two flying shits about you or what makes you happy."

He knew it was cold and a little unfair to spring this all on him now, so soon after his talk with the man this morning. But Blaine needed a little tough love if he was going to get over his dependency to please his father.

Blaine bowed his head, shaking his head wildly. He feared opening his mouth in case he said something he regretted. It wasn't as if he was unaware of the truth of what Kurt was saying. He knew how much his own father despised him. Blaine often wished he'd been the son that his father really wanted but could never fill the shoes of his father's idea of the perfect son.

But no matter how many times he tried to tell himself that he was better off without his father in his life, he was never able to take that final step. He'd never been brave enough to face the oncoming storm alone and now even with the idea of Kurt standing behind him, it seemed like a daunting task that should never be undertaken. His father was too powerful.

Kurt, sensing his sub's distress, pulled him into a hug, making soft cooing sounds.

"I'm sorry that I upset you, Blaine." He said. He would never apologize for what he said but he regretted not being more tactful about it. It took a few minutes of quiet reassurance but finally Blaine settled down. He was ashamed by his outburst but Kurt didn't let him dwell on it.

He glanced at the digital clock on his Blu-ray player underneath the TV. It was almost seven o'clock, too early for him to turn in for the night.

"Why don't you go out a pick a movie? They're all in that cabinet next to the TV." Kurt said.

Blaine looked torn. "But your book…" he trailed off. A movie sounded great but Kurt had seemed pretty interested in the book he was reading.

"Read it a million times." Kurt said confidently, "Go. Pick one out."

Blaine didn't have the guts to tell him that his book looked brand new, not a sign of wear on it. So with a reluctant sigh, he climbed off the couch and over to the small caddy. It was the same style as all the tables and the entertainment center that the TV sat one.

His eyes bugged out at all the choices available to him. It was a small music library, filled with tons of cases blu-ray and DVD. He skimmed the titles, noticing they ranged in all genres. He looked back at his Dom, who seemed amused by his shock.

"I'm a collector of sorts. I've loved almost every movie I've ever watched, even some of the incredibly raunchy ones. There are some exceptions to that rule of course, nothings perfect." He said. Music and writing were his passions but it was movies that had made his desperate and lonely life that much more bearable.

Blaine didn't know which one to choose. There were so many he hadn't seen. Deciding to be spontaneously, he plucked an unknown one off the shelf and shuffled over to Kurt to see if he approved of his choice.

"Ghost Ship." Kurt muttered, taking the DVD case from him. He flipped it around to show the picture of a ship out at sea with the fazing picture of a skull on the bow. "Nice choice. It's one of my favorite horror movies out there."

"Go put it in." Kurt held the case back out to him.

The rest of the evening passed in a comfortable silence. The only sounds were made by the movie and Blaine found himself immersed in the plot. It wasn't a particularly scary movie but the awesome acting and intriguing story made up for it. The end scene had to be Blaine's favorite, literally jumping up and down in excitement when Ferriman walked by Epps in the ambulance. By the end of the movie, they were both tired enough to sleep. And it wasn't until they were in bed that Kurt brought up Blaine's father again.

"I don't doubt that he's probably still going to be pissed tomorrow. But do you think he'll do anything?" Kurt asked as they curled up on the bed together. Kurt hadn't bothered to change into anything, seeing as his outfit doubled as a nice pair of pajamas. He'd finished his nightly moisturizing routine sitting at his vanity in the bathroom. Blaine had waited patiently for him to return to bed so they could go to sleep together.

Blaine bit his lip, not wanting to admit how nervous he really was. Tomorrow his father would no doubt call him up to his office and he didn't know if he was ready for it.

"I don't think so." Blaine shook his head, trying to appear strong. "After all, he can't really fire me without embarrassing himself so I think my job is safe. For now at least."

"That wasn't what I was talking about." Kurt replied sternly, "I want you to tell me if he does anything to hurt you. Do you understand?"

Blaine looked confused. He didn't fancy himself a martyr but the last thing he wanted was for Kurt to see him as weak. He knew in contrast that Kurt was a lot stronger than him, maybe not physically but Kurt would always be stronger than him emotionally. It was only natural consider he was the Dom but Blaine didn't want him to see how weak he was compared with other people.

"I'm a grown man. I could see him getting away with hurting me when I was a kid but it's not like he can just haul me up to his office and smack me around?" Blaine said. He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince anymore.

"Don't be so sure." Kurt chided him and kissed him softly. "I will be very mad if I find out he's hurting you and you didn't tell me."

Blaine nodded with a grim smile. He knew that if they're positions were flipped, he'd be just as pissed if the man he was responsible for was getting hurt without him knowing about it.

"I'll tell you if my father hurts me." Blaine promised, snuggling closer to his Dom.

"And I don't just mean physically, Blaine. I want to know if he says anything that hurts you. If he's responsible for it in any way possible." Kurt said, looking down at him.

"I will, sir." Blaine said. Kurt didn't look like he believed him but he let the subject drop. He yawned, snuggling deeper into Blaine's side.

"I forgot how warm the bed gets when you share it with another person." He mumbled sleepily.

"Are you too hot?" Blaine asked, already starting to detach himself from Kurt so he could cool down if he needed to.

"Don't be silly?" Kurt held him tighter, forbidding him to go any further. "I hate how cold this big bed gets, especially in the winter. I'm looking forward to it now."

"And stop worrying about me. That's my job. If I didn't want you here, I would have told you to sleep in the playroom or on the floor." He added.

Blaine settled down, properly chastised. He closed his eyes, hoping that he would be able to get some sleep despite how anxious he was. He shouldn't have worried. Not even a few minutes later and he was out like a light. As Kurt was attempting to follow, Blaine emitted a soft snore that had Kurt giggling. He thought it would be annoying to share a bed with someone snored but Blaine's were too cute to be irritated at. They weren't very loud. It was more like a soft puttering that reminded him of a cat purring.

In his opinion, Blaine was entirely too puppy-like to ever be compared to a cat but most of the dogs he'd had the displeasure of pet sitting had snored loud enough to be heard in the next room with the door shut. With that analogy in mind, Kurt drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Blaine woke up, feeling ready to face his father.