His thoughts invariably drifted to Kurt. In the turmoil of scrambling for papers, flinging clothes about the bedroom and stumbling out the door in a manner that had come to define his weekday mornings, Blaine had had little time to digest the… events… of last night night. He felt himself letting out a groan, remembering the way Kurt had trusted and obeyed him so fully, allowing him to lavish him with the love and praise that he so fully deserved. And the way those breathtakingly beautiful blue-grey eyes had gazed at him, slightly cheeky yet fully submissive, as he had kneeled in front of him, fully trusting Blaine to take care of him…. Blaine took a deep breath, trying to calm himself and the impending hardening in his pants.

Blaine forced himself to steady his thoughts and his apparently very active hormones. It had been less than twenty-four hours, since he had even yet first met Kurt. He needed to slow down, to take things one step at a time, to… well…. not have crazy sex dreams about one of his students. And yet he was already enamored with the boy, with his beauty and his innocence and the urge to just protect him, gather him up in his arms, feeling his light warmth resting against him, shielding him from the outside world and the pain it held…. And from the way Kurt had reacted yesterday, Blaine would venture to guess that Kurt wouldn't mind him doing so in the slightest. After all, he was –

A low, cacophonous honk sounded, and Blaine jumped, swerving to avoid the car in front of him that was barely visible through the fog. He swore under his breath and then sighed, forcing himself to focus on his lesson plans for the day as he made the rest of the way to school, thankfully avoiding any more near-accidents.

The high school parking lot was even more chaotic than it normally was, and thanks to the weather, Blaine unfortunately hadn't beaten the school buses this morning. Figuring it would be faster to get inside, he parked his car in the mostly-empty lot behind the school. He whistled to himself as he stepped out of the car, feeling cheery and warm despite the cold rain and the near-death experience on the way to school. He supposed that thoughts of someone special just did that to people.

"Well, hello there, Mr. Sunshine," Sue Sylvester quipped, lookingdown at him from what must have been a foot higher. Somehow, Blaine wasn't surprised that she also chose to park in the abandoned lot behind McKinley. It just seemed to suit her.

Blaine smirked, striding quickly and indulging her in light banter as they made their way towards the school's front entrance. When she failed to respond to one of his comments, he looked up at her, and saw her eyes narrowed and lips pursed, attention directed toward something at the back of the building. Following her gaze, he failed to see what she was gazing at until he heard a loud voice, coming from a dark figure about ten feet away.

The figure was speaking lowly and dangerously to a smaller figure huddled in a corner, seemingly frozen with shock. "If you tell anyone, I'll kill you," he heard, distinctly and clearly, the voice eerily carried by the wind through the roars of thunder and patter of raindrops.

Repulsed and enraged by the violence, Blaine walked quickly and purposefully across the parking lot towards the corner, and when he saw an elegant, porcelain figure, mouth half-open, eyes wide in horror, Blaine felt his heart rush into his throat. Adrenaline raced through his body, and in a manner very uncharacteristic from his usually dapper personality, he heard himself yelling out, "Hey!" as he strode over to the corner, standing directly in front of the football player, Sue at his heels.

It was the boy's turn to look afraid, darting glances around him and contemplating running, then just standing there awkwardly and trapped in front of a slightly short yet terribly authoritative and confident-looking man and the infamous Sue Sylvester.

"KAROFSKY!" she bellowed, "Step away from Porcelain!" Sue wrenched him by the arm, barely stopping to ask questions as she headed to Figgins' office

"I don't know what you've done," Blaine called out as their figures retreated, "But when I find out, I can assure you that you won't want to be there when I make it to Figgins. And you sure as hell won't want to come anywhere near Kurt again!"

And he and Kurt were left alone. Kurt still stood in the corner, his mouth open slightly as he trembled with shock and fear. Meeting his wide, scared eyes, Blaine felt several sharp pangs shoot through his chest, almost at a loss for words, so moved with empathy and anguish at what this poor boy was going through.

Without even thinking, Blaine instinctively reached an arm out to touch Kurt's shoulder, surprised when Kurt moved closer and practically collapsed into his arms.

"He… he… kissed me," Kurt shuddered, burying his face in his teacher's neck despite all his brain's cursed, insufferable screamings of "He's your teacher, what the hell are you doing?"

Blaine felt his arms tighten around Kurt, overwhelmed with the urge to protect him, to own him, as only his own, for no one else to ever touch, to kiss… and at the same time, he was overwhelmed with absolute rage, pounding through his veins, forcing himself to avoid clenching his hands into fists as the image of Karofsky kissing his beautiful, innocent, angel ran rampant throughout his mind. But there would be time to confront this bully. That would need to come later. Kurt was his priority, now and… it was too soon to say "always," but he couldn't help himself from adding it regardless.

"Oh, baby," he murmured, running a gentle yet firm hand up and down the boy's back, at once soothing and possessive. Pulling away slightly, he whispered, "We need to get you inside, Kurt, before more people start to come here."

Never having been so grateful to not have a first period class, Blaine placed a hand on the small of Kurt's back and led him through the quiet, abandoned hallways in the back of McKinley until they finally reached Blaine's classroom. Blaine quickly pulled out his keys and fumbled with the lock on the door before it finally clicked, opening the door and gently urging Kurt inside with a guiding hand on his back.

Now looking slightly more calmed, Kurt looked at Blaine through teary eyes, gasping, "Mr. Anderson, I... I just…"

Blaine placed a finger over his lips ever so gently to shush him, and the color in Kurt's flushed cheeks deepened slightly. "Just go over to the couch, sweetheart," he whispered, the endearment slipping over his lips surprisingly naturally and easily, mentally filing away the way Kurt's eyes widened slightly and ever so beautifully with trust and comfort. Blaine quickly locked the door and went over to Kurt, leaving the lights in the room off for the moment as he joined him on the couch, daring to risk an arm around his shoulder.

Kurt leaned closer to his teacher, ever-so-subtly, and closed his eyes, losing himself in the scent of Mr. Anderson, surrounded by warmth and cinnamon and nutmeg and the heady musk of rain. He felt his teacher's lips turn upward against the top of his head, and smiled, too, in spite of himself and the pain the past half hour had wrought upon him. Maybe he was just being a good person, a good teacher and caring authority figure, but he seemed to want this just as much as Kurt did.

Years of frustration and pain that had weighed heavily on Kurt's heart all seemed to fill his body to the brim with anguish, and as the pain he endured inside combined with the wild winds and rain pounding at the window, he felt himself bursting, giving into the need to just let loose as he clung to Mr. Anderson, drowning in the safety and comfort of his embrace, burying his face in the warm, delicious skin of his neck, still speckled with raindrops. His teacher held him strongly, firmly, yet his hands were gentle enough to stroke him softly, rubbing circles throughout his back, easing him into a relaxed, subdued state of mind. The rolling thunder and Mr. Anderson's soft humming lulled him to sleep as he fell deeper and deeper into his teacher's comfort and protection.

Two hours later, Kurt's eyes squinted open, greeted with a soft smile from Mr. Anderson who sat in a chair beside him as he lay on the couch. Soft rays of light streamed in through the windows, framing his face, and Kurt fought back a gasp, for he looked positively radiant.

"Hi, Mr. Anderson," he whispered, voice still clouded with sleep. He stretched his arms above his head, catlike, then rubbed his eyes adorably.

Mr. Anderson pulled his hand from his face, then touched his cheek gently. "How do you feel, baby?"

"Better."

"Good boy," he said softly, in spite of himself, smiling more broadly, comfortingly.

"How long was I sleeping?"

"About two hours." At the boy's panicked face, he added, "Don't worry, sweetheart. I checked you out of class for the rest of the morning, and I called in a substitute for my classes."

Kurt sighed, shutting his eyes.

"Kurt, look at me, please, honey."

His eyes slowly fluttered open and rose to Blaine's questioningly yet filled with warmth and trust.

"Are you okay?"

"Honestly? No." he shuddered slightly, "I just can't get what he did to me off my mind. I don't want, I never wanted… I didn't want..." he trailed off, at a loss for words, and Blaine took his hand comfortingly, interlacing their fingers and running a thumb across the back of his hand, marveling at how soft, warm, and alive it felt, with its delicate muscles and faint, steady pulse. He felt completely captivated by this boy and his need to make him feel whole, safe, protected, loved.

"Shhh, sweetheart, it's okay. Just…listen to me, okay? Let me try to help you. Trust me."

Kurt nodded, blinking back tears, hanging on every word his teacher spoke to him.

"No one, not Karofsky, not his friends, not the football team, not any bullies, not anyone, has the right to make you feel unloved, unsafe, unwanted. There's so many people in this world, Kurt, so many people who would love to have even half the amount of courage as you do, the courage to face the world with a clear idea of who they are, despite what everyone thinks. And it just breaks my heart that someone could ever want to do something like that, just to hurt someone as pure and beautiful, inside and out, as you. Please, please know that there's people in this world who care for you, who love you for who you are and would never change you or make you feel uncomfortable for being who you are. Never, ever."

"It's just so hard sometimes… being alone, surrounded by so much hate. Sometimes I just wonder… why," Kurt admitted, turning his face away and blushing at how vulnerable he felt.

Blaine reached out his hand, tenderly touching his chin and turning his face back around to face him.

"Come here," he murmured, holding his arms out, and Kurt moved into them, smiling in spite of himself as his teacher cradled him snugly against his broad, inviting chest.

"It's hard, I know it is, but I promise I will do whatever I can to get you through this. You're not alone, Kurt. You'll never be alone. I'll never leave you alone."

Kurt took a slow, shuddering breath, listening to Mr. Anderson's heartbeat, lulling him into a peaceful state.

"Breath with me, Kurt," he whispered, placing a hand on Kurt's stomach and taking long, deep, breaths, smiling tenderly as he felt Kurt's breathing return to normal.

"What is going to happen now? With Karofksy, I mean?"

"Sue took him to Figgins," Blaine explained, now rubbing Kurt's stomach soothingly. "I'll meet with them later. I'll make sure he won't get away with this, honey, I swear it."

Kurt pulled away, looking up at his teacher, whose curls ran wild and free after the rain had washed out his gel, and smiled. "You know…" he murmured, you look nice like this."

"All disheveled from the rain?" he chuckled, partly with what Kurt had said and partly in pure relief that he was feeling better.

"Well, partially," he said, smiling quirkily. "But really, losing the gel would do wonders for your appearance."

Blaine laughed again, genuinely, throwing his head back, and Kurt admired his adam's apple, the way his neck muscles danced and strained in support of his head. His teacher was just breathtaking. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind," he quipped.

He pulled away from Kurt, running his arms down his sides gently yet teasingly as they parted. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes. I shoud probably get to lunch. Plus, I planned on working with Mercedes on our math project at lunch, so I guess I need to get going," he said, casting a last wistful look at Blaine.

"Alright, sweetheart. Make sure you get enough to eat, okay?"

Kurt nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Anderson. So much."

Blaine waved his hand. "Anything for you," he laughed, and his voice turned more serious, as he looked Kurt directly in the eyes and said, "And Kurt? Come tell me if you have any more problems or if anything else happens. I mean it."

"Yes, Mr. Anderson. And thank you again, sir."

Blaine touched his hand softly one last time before Kurt walked out the door.

That night, as Blaine lay in bed, he felt his thoughts drifting to Kurt yet again. This dream wasn't as intensely sexual as that of the previous night, but it saw Kurt gagged, vulnerable, yet trusting, as Blaine cuddled him and watched a movie with him at his apartment. Blaine had to laugh as he saw it was The Notebook. He had quite the romantic subconscious. The dream eventually grew deeper, with them eventually making love, and Blaine swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. As he cuddled his pillow while he slept, he couldn't help imagining that it was Kurt, warm and safe against his chest, protected from Karosky and all evils that sought to ever harm his beautiful boy.