As soon as the smoke cleared from around them, Kurt wrenched his elbow out of Blaine's grasp and started shouting.

“What the hell did you do that for? I am not helping you with your inane plan to save your dipshit friend- Am I in hell again?” he demanded, looking around Blaines room in shock.

“It's not hell, it's the demon's realm-”

“I don't care what the fuck you call it, take me back right now-”

“So the Demon Police can arrest you?” Blaine shot back.

“Take me to my apartment,” he said through his teeth.

Before Blaine could stop her, Santana came up behind Kurt and slapped him on the back of the head.

“Ow! What-?”

She grabbed him by the shoulder, and shoved him into one of Blaine's antique armchairs before she bent over it to trap him in his seat.

“Look, Meat Bag. You're in the demon's realm, and you can call it hell if you want, but all you really need to know is that here? Demons are in charge. We run this mother, understand? We're even more powerful here than in your realm, and I'm sure you know how powerful we are there. So if you're not scared of us, then you're an idiot. Are you an idiot?”

“What are you doing?” Blaine snapped, yanking her away by the elbow.

She smacked him off, her hand burning hot. “Laying out the rules for your pet.”

“Shouldn't that be my responsibility?” he asked, furious that she would purposely set out to scare Kurt. That was the exact opposite of what he was trying to accomplish.

“Yes,” she said pointedly.

Blaine hadn't been expecting such a direct answer. “Well… Then.” He brushed past her and stood in front of Kurt sitting straight-backed in the chair.

“I'm quite aware of what you're capable of,” Kurt said in a trembling voice. “There's no need to spell it out for me. But if you could please return me to my home, I would very much appreciate it.”

Blaine sat down on the small coffee table in front of Kurt, taking in the man he'd been secretly observing the past month. At least, until a couple weeks ago at their ill-fated coffee meeting when Kurt had renamed it ‘stalking' and had ordered him to stop. Blaine had never expected him to look so utterly terrified at the news; he thought he'd been quite polite by not watching him shower or sleep or anything more… private, but even if he didn't understand Kurt's dread, he respected it and had stopped like he asked.

Which was why when he happened to see him at Jessie's viewing, Blaine couldn't help but talk to him. He hadn't seen him in nearly a week, and after watching him for hours every day for a month, it seemed like a very long time.

Hmm, putting it like that, he supposed it did sound kind of creepy.

“I'll take you back as soon as you listen to what I have to say,” Blaine said.

Kurt opened his mouth and then snapped it shut, eyeing Santana, who had settled onto the couch across from them and was sharpening her nails on a nail file. He wanted to stroke Kurt's hair and assure him he wasn't going to hurt him, but he doubted either person in the room would appreciate that.

“What do you insist on speaking to me about?” he asked, much softer than he originally wanted to, Blaine was sure.

“The demon that's trapped. Do you recognize him?”

He scoffed. “No, I actually don't make it a habit of associating with demons. Since it's illegal and dangerous and-”

The smoke image that Blaine was conjuring up had started to take form, and Kurt's jaw dropped when the full face hung in the air, gray and translucent.

“Familiar?” Blaine asked expectantly.

“That's- that's Rachels- I mean, that's the demon Rachel's been seeing.”

Blaine nodded. “You might have noticed that Rachel's been coming home at a more reasonable hour this past week?”

“I- yeah, more around midnight I guess. I hadn't even… Why would I help him escape?” he asked, shaking his head. “Out of every demon that could have possibly been captured, he is the one that works out best for me.”

Blaine leaned back on the table, surprised that Kurt had been telling the truth before when he'd said that he hadn't been hoping Blaine had been behind bars.

He didn't understand humans at all.

“He won't always be trapped,” Santana interjected. “And when he's out, do you want it to be because of a deal you made to free your friend? Or because he made a deal with some dumb guard that he'll probably kill when he gets out anyway?”

Blaine nodded at her, pleased that she understood where he was going so quickly.

Kurt's brow furrowed as he soaked up this new information. “What deal did Rachel even make? She wouldn't tell me.”

“What has Rachel wanted for… um, forever?” Blaine replied, figuring that Kurt could probably figure it out himself, if Jessie's description of Rachel was anything to go by.

It didn't take Kurt very long at all before he said, “Broadway. Broadway? You cannot be serious. She made a deal with a demon to get a starring role on Broadway?”

“Yeah, I was going to tell you in the coffee shop, but…” He shrugged.

“Are you two having coffee dates?” asked Santana incredulously.

“Unbelievable!” Kurt exclaimed, ignoring her. “As if she wouldn't have gotten a role eventually anyway. The absolute nerve of that woman, that she'd call me a hypocrite, but I made a deal to save my father, and she made a deal because she literally could not wait to see her name up in lights. And now she's stuck in this mess, and I have to help her out.”

Kurt was livid. Blaine was unsurprisingly turned on by the fire in his eyes.

“You don't have to,” Santana drawled. “She can honour her deal once Jesse gets out and I can give you like a million dollars or whatever for helping.”

Kurt gaped at her.

“What? A million's a lot, isn't it?”

He turned back to Blaine. “What is Rachel paying?”

“Basically, for the next year, Jessie will pick her up each night after she's done rehearsing or performing, and bring her here for a minimum of four hours,” Blaine explained. “However, if by the end of the year she has not completed at least 1,456 hours, she will continue to pay until the minimum has been reached. Of course, if she reaches the limit before the year is up, the same does not apply.”

“And what do they do?” he asked quietly.

“Bow chicka bow wow,” Santana winked.

Kurt shuddered.

Blaine leaned forward to put a comforting hand on his knee before catching himself, and trying to do it with just words. “But Jessie shares Rachel's passion for theatre, so sometimes he just helps her rehearse, and he gives her tips.”

“And other times he makes her sing in front of a booing crowd,” Santana said with a smile. “Usually Friday nights. I appreciate that he entertains the masses.”

Kurt put his head in his hands.

“How much you wanna bet that she prefers the sex on stage to people throwing rotten fruit at her?” Santana asked Blaine with a smirk.

“At least she gets the satisfaction of knowing people enjoy her performance when she's-”

“This isn't funny,” Kurt snapped.

“I think it's hilarious,” Santana said, chin jutting out in challenge.

With a speculative expression, Kurt scanned Blaines face. “Do you really think Jessie will make this deal with me?”

“It's not like he'll have a lot of choices once we reach him.”

He nodded, and thought for a moment. “But I don't think I'll be able to get anywhere near that cage again.”

Blaine waved away his concern. “He's only being displayed for a week.”

“Oh, you watched The Demon Caged, too?”

“Our Plan B, which we'll now be following because the lock is iron, is to catch him on the way back to Demon Police headquarters on Hoffman Island.”

“Well, not if we can help it,” Santana said.

“It'll be when the guards' defenses are most vulnerable.”

“You're not gonna kill anybody, right?” Kurt asked.

“If they get in my fucking way.”

“We'll try to keep the human mortality rate to a minimum,” Blaine replied. The response was out of his mouth before he realized that it was probably not the best choice of words.

Kurt leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. He was absolutely breathtaking, and Blaine found himself hoping that he would agree to this just so he'd have an excuse to observe him.

“Can I have some time to think about this?”

Santana heaved a sigh, and Blaine just barely held one back. Again he was left wondering what could possibly be making Kurt so wary.

“I can come see you around noon tomorrow?” Blaine suggested.

“Otherwise we'll have to round up some other poor sucker willing to deal with any and all iron we might come across,” Santana said.

Kurt stood. “So you can take me home now?”

God, his legs.

“Yeah.” He rose to his feet and touched Kurt's arm.

“I hope to see you around.” Santana's laugh echoed around them as he transported them back to Kurt's apartment.

Which was crawling with Demon Cops.

And of course, Rachel was right in the middle of vehemently denying that Kurt would ever associate with a demon. Her emphatic promises probably would have convinced them if Kurt and Blaine hadn't puffed into existence right next to the television.

“Holy shit!” the woman nearest to them shouted. She barely had her hand on her gun before Blaine brought them back to the demon realm.

Santana was still in his room, helping herself to a glass of his scotch. “Back so soon?” she asked dryly.

Kurt sunk onto the couch, holding his head in his hands. “I really should have seen that coming.”

“Okay, well-” Blaine began, flicking through possible options in his mind.

“I'll help you,” Kurt said.

 “You will?”

He spread his hands. “Whatever I do now, I'm fucked. Might as well get Rachel out of her mess before I'm subjugated to whatever the Demon Police do to people who get involved with demons.”

Blaine frowned. Kurt didn't seem very happy with his decision to help them. Nobody was making him, but he would get in trouble regardless of whether or not he helped them rescue Jessie. And he couldn't go home anyway. It felt a lot like when he'd made a deal with Blaine the first time. He'd been under no obligation to have sex with Blaine, but if he didn't Blaine would never have saved his dad.

It wasn't his choice. Not really.

Kurt's reluctance to deal with demons was finally making more sense to Blaine.

“Great.” Santana clapped her hands together. “Shall we start planning now?”

Without waiting for a response, she swept a hand through the air and summoned a large table, covered in maps and schematics. Kurt stood up and peered at it and she snorted. “No, we don't need you, human. You can go home.”

“My home is swarmed with Demon Cops!” he snapped. “I can't go home without getting arrested. Why the hell do you think I came back here?”

Her fists curled at her side, the only outward sign that she was incredibly pissed. She locked her glare onto Blaine, expecting him to discipline his ‘pet'.

“Kurt, just sit down, okay?” he said. Kurt only crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at him. Blaine was getting tired of people giving him such indignant looks in his own room. He lowered his voice and stepped closer, “Look, you just have to ignore her, okay?”

Or she'll burn your head off, he didn't mention.

“So I can help you two plan?” he asked expectantly.

“No!” she barked from behind them.

Kurt let out a harsh breath through his nose.

“Can you just sit down?” he ordered. Well, his tone made it sound like a suggestion. But he meant it to be an order. He just didn't feel totally safe telling Kurt what to do. “And you can have- coffee or tea or- or champagne or whatever the hell you want.”

“If I can't help you, can I just be alone, please?” he asked, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Do you have, like, a guest room…?”

He glanced around the room and Blaine scratched the back of his neck. “Um, about that-”

Kurt's eyebrows furrowed. “There isn't a door in here.”

“Skin Sack, we're only corporeal right now for your benefit,” Santana sneered. “Why the hell should this imaginary room have doors?”

“Oh for fuck sakes,” he sighed, throwing himself onto the couch again. He rubbed at his temple before looking up at Blaine. “Can you make me another room?”

“Demanding little thing,” Santana muttered.

Blaine bit his lip. “The short answer is yes.”

“But the actual answer is he needs to fucking concentrate on figuring out how to break Jessie out of your human prison, so you can just sit quietly on the couch like a good pet,” Santana cut in.

“Santana, shut up!”

“I am not a pet.”

“You're literally trapped in this room until Blaine lets you out. Is that not what a pet is?” she asked. Kurt stood up and she laughed, flinging her hands to her sides and summoning fire to her fingertips. “What are you gonna do? You gonna fight me?”

Blaine stood between her and Kurt, protecting him from any attack Santana may or may not launch. “You're not going to touch him.”

Santana faltered, her fire flickering down like a strong wind had come by. She eyed him up and down like she didn't understand what he was doing. “Well yeah, come on. I was joking.”

He didn't care that intimidating Kurt was just her way of putting him into his place. Her intent was to scare the fuck out of him and Blaine was sure Kurt had enough to worry about without dealing with Santana, the flame-throwing demon.

“Great. Funny joke,” Blaine said. He looked between Kurt and Santana cautiously. “Maybe you should head out and we can start planning this tomorrow. Jessie's not going anywhere.”

She put her hands on her hips, flames extinguishing. “You want some alone time with your pet?”

“Yeah, so get lost?” Again, he meant it as an order, but didn't even let it sound like a suggestion with Santana, and instead ended up asking a question.

Her lips twisted like she'd bit into something sour. “Whatever you say, oh fearless leader.”

She disappeared and Blaine turned back to Kurt.

His hand was tucked under his elbow, the other one covering his eyes. “Thank you for getting rid of her.”

“I just want to make you comfortable.”

Kurt shook his head, like the idea was laughable. And it probably was, but Blaine wasn't going to stop trying. Kurt's gaze landed on his face, and then darted to anywhere else. “I really would appreciate if I could be alone somehow.”

He nodded, deflating a bit in disappointment because- why? What did he expect? That Kurt was going to want to stay up late and have a slumber party? That he was going to fall into bed with him again? No. Being alone would probably give him more comfort than Blaine ever could.

Right?

Is that how humans worked?

“Yeah.” He nodded at a blank space of wall and a shiny mahogany door appeared.

Kurt turned his head and his eyes widened. “Oh, thanks.”

“No problem.”

He turned the ornate gold handle and peeked inside the small room. “Oh.”

“What's wrong?”

“I've seen bigger closets.”

“It's easier for me to retain if it's small and simple,” he explained. The walls were white, almost closing in on the only furniture in the room, a double bed and bedside table topped with a round lamp.

“Simple is right,” he said dryly.

He pushed down his annoyance at Kurt's ungratefulness because it was a very basic room.

“I hope it'll suffice.”

Kurt's lips twitched, like he was trying to force a smile but couldn't quite manage it. “Yeah. I guess I'll turn in early.” He took a step forward and then asked, “Do demons sleep?”

“In a manner of speaking. We rest in our base forms, sometimes for centuries. We forget who we are and awaken to the demon realm where little has changed, and then visit the human realm where nothing is the same as when we walked upon it last.”

Kurt pressed his lips between his teeth and nodded. “So that means you're not going to be sleeping tonight?”

“That is correct.”

“Okay. Just wake me in the morning, then. Or whatever passes for morning in hell.”

So Kurt was in hell again.

The demons' realm.

He couldn't leave on his own and he had to rely on Blaine for everything from a separate room to food, so Santana hadn't been that off-base calling him a pet.

Basically hell, and yet probably still more freedom than he was going to have when he went home after freeing Jessie because the Demon Police were going to interrogate him for years and then throw him in jail.

He hadn't slept well.

But he was still determined to do all he could to keep Rachel safe, and that meant making sure the escape went off without a hitch. So he sat on the couch flipping through a magazine while Santana and Blaine worked over a table covered in schematics. And when he overheard them talking about him scaling a ten foot wall, he asked a question even though Santana had demanded he keep his mouth shut.

“What kind of wall?” he interrupted them with a sigh.

“Brick.”

“Yeah, okay. I might be able to swing it if the fence was chain link, but I'll need a ladder or like a grappling hook to get over that. Just so you know.” He took a sip of his mimosa as he read what France was doing with accessories.

“Can't you just leap over it?” Santana asked.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh my god.” He stood up and walked over to the table and whiteboard where they were planning the escape.

“I told you we don't need you!”

“If you don't know the limits of the human body, there are going to be severe flaws in this plan that will not be my fault but will screw me over anyway,” he said. He leaned over the table, scanning the maps and notes they'd made. He started pointing out faults. “That defies the laws of physics, maybe if I was an Olympian, I will need bolt cutters here, here and- just don't leave me without a set of bolt cutters.”

He raised his eyes to Blaine. “This is a ridiculous plan. I think you've watched Mission Impossible a few too many times.”

“We were brainstorming,” he shrugged, hands wide.

“I told him that I can probably just blast the top of the cage open like this,” Santana began, holding her hand out.

“Don't you dare!”

A jet of concentrated fire shot out of her palm and left a nickel-sized hole in the whiteboard.

“Oh my god!”

“Damnit, Santana. What have I told you about shooting off in here?” Blaine snapped.

“Not to do it,” she said as she checked her nails.

Kurt lost interest in the new hole and was now reading what the two of them had written on the whiteboard, which was somehow even more ridiculous than the notes they'd made in the margins of the maps.

“You're gonna rise up to twenty feet and smite all humans in sight?” he asked Santana incredulously.

“Possibly,” she replied, arms crossed over her chest. “Problem?”

“Yeah!” He turned to Blaine. “You said you wouldn't be killing any humans.”

“Unless it was necessary.”

“Yeah and by ‘necessary' I thought you meant if they attacked you.”

“By then it'll be too late and they'll already have a fucking iron-secreting bullet in me,” said Santana. “It'll be easiest to hide somewhere up high and kill all of them from a distance.”

“No!” Kurt argued. “Are you nuts?”

“Kurt, these are the guys who are gonna put you in jail-” Blaine began.

He leveled a glare at him. “I don't want them dead. I don't know how you can-” He cut himself off with a harsh sigh. Fucking demons.

Blaine's face softened. “Is this the same sort of reasoning as when you didn't want me to be the demon in that cage?”

“Yes,” he said, surprised that Blaine seemed to be making an effort to understand his position. “I just… don't like seeing people hurt.”

Santana threw her hands in the air. “Oh, you would pick up a fucking pacifist.”

“I'm just saying, violence isn't always the only option.”

“Then what did you have in mind, Gandhi?”

“Are you seriously using ‘Gandhi' as an insult?”

“To be fair-” Blaine began.

“I don't care,” he cut in, holding up a hand. He inspected the plans strewn across the table and said, “So their defenses will be most vulnerable when they're moving, even if they will be travelling in a convoy of fortified Demon Police vans. Let's just hope they don't have a helicopter overhead.”

“If there is, can I shoot it down?

Kurt bit his lip. “You might have to.”

“Alright. If I don't get to kill humans, I am wasting my time.”

He shared an uneasy glance with Blaine.

“Santana, can you try not to express so much glee over killing humans when there is a human in the room?” Blaine said carefully.

Santana was irritating and scary, but at least her presence forced Kurt and Blaine to be allies. If she weren't here, Kurt knew he would be sniping at Blaine the whole time and Blaine would get that admonished-puppy look on his face. Of course, then he might break and threaten to steal his soul like last time. The rage had come out of nowhere- well, not nowhere, because he was a demon and they all walked around bubbling with fury.

Right?

Kurt shivered as he recalled, for the umpteenth time, the cold, empty sensation of his soul being sucked out of his chest.

“If we can just subdue all the guards somehow…” Kurt muttered, getting back to the task at hand. “Can you possess humans without killing them?”

When neither responded, he looked up to find the two of them glaring heatedly at each other. He wondered if any of this furniture was fireproof.

“If all demons do when they're together is argue, then I see why you haven't taken over Earth yet,” he said dryly.

That got them to pay attention to him.

“You wanna talk about ‘arguing'?” Santana said. “Try humans. Every time I visit there's a new war. Sometimes you're just fighting over stories.”

It took Kurt a second to catch on. “You mean religion? Yeah, well I'm an atheist. So can we get back to this?” He pointed at the table. “Again, can you possess people without killing them?”

They both grimaced.

“What?”

“We don't possess humans half as often as you people seem to think,” Blaine said.

“You don't?”

Santana shuddered. “I mean you're all… grisly and wet. And so easy to break.”

“And the human is fighting for control of their body the whole time,” Blaine said. “Plus your blood is filled with iron.”

“Huh,” Kurt said, dumbfounded. Every PSA suddenly seemed like an even bigger lie. “I had never considered that.”

“Humans don't consider anything but themselves,” Santana said.

“Okay, so no possession, then. No iron, no killing,” he muttered to himself. He flipped through the Demon Police's plans. He had no idea how Blaine and Santana had gotten hold of them, but it made him a lot less confident in the government's security as a whole.

“Are you sure we can't get a different human to help us?”

“A human who doesn't care for human life?” Blaine asked.

“That would be a sociopath,” Kurt said without looking up. “Or a psychopath. I can never remember which. In any case, you could check prisons. Or the Republican Party, your pick.”

“You want us to go to a party?”

“Never mind,” he sighed, his wit wasted. He held up a picture of one of the trucks in the convoy. “Can you melt bulletproof metal?”

She rolled her eyes. “Pssh. Please.”

“And melting bulletproof tires won't be a problem either?”

“Humans are basically babies. I can fuck up anything they make,” she assured him.

“Can you do fire?” Kurt asked Blaine.

“I can control fire that already exists,” he offered, the shrug he gave making it obvious that he was aware that it was not quite enough.

“What else can you do?”

Santana pinched Blaines cheek and cooed, “Look pretty in a suit.”

He smacked her hand away. “What did you have in mind?”

It took a few hours (at least it felt like hours- hell had no clocks), but they managed to lay out a basic plan, the efficacy of which was yet to be seen. There were still details to decide on, but it turned out that Santana could only work with a human for so long before threatening to melt their eyeballs. So Blaine called it a day and sent Santana away, which left Kurt and Blaine alone.

“Are you hungry now?” Whenever there had been a quiet moment during planning, Blaine had asked Kurt if he was hungry. Or thirsty. Or tired. Or cold. He was taking his human-sitting duties very seriously.

His concern would have been cuter if he wasn't a soul-sucking demon from hell.

“Yeah, okay. How about,” he waved his fingers through the air until he decided, “gourmet mac and cheese? With a creamy sauce and bacon and a crunchy breadcrumb crust.”

Without missing a beat, Blaine grabbed a bowl of mac and cheese out of thin air. “Like this?”

“Yes.” Since after this week he was probably going to be eating nothing but prison food, he'd decided to splurge, especially since Blaine could magic up anything he could possibly want. But with a fork halfway to his mouth, he stopped and asked, “This isn't like the pomegranate, is it?”

“Sorry?”

“Persephone and Hades? The Greek myth-”

“Yeah, I'm familiar. It's a bit late for that thought, though. You already ate breakfast.”

And that fruit parfait had been delicious.

Kurt peered at his bowl suspiciously. “But it's not, right?”

“No.”

He settled onto the couch and began eating. It was heavenly, even better than when he made it himself. He'd closed his eyes to savour it, but he could still feel Blaines gaze heavy upon him.

“You know, in the original myth, Persephone chooses to eat the pomegranate seeds,” Blaine said.

“Hm?” he asked with a mouthful of pasta.

“She wasn't some dumb girl, she was a deity. She knew what she was agreeing to when she ate the food of the Underworld.”

Kurt swallowed. “Why would she want to marry Hades?”

“Power,” he replied. “She chooses to become queen of the Underworld. Not to mention, Hades was a pretty good husband, considering-”

“Considering he was ruler of the dead?” Kurt cut in, unimpressed.

“Considering Zeus cheated on Hera like every day and Hades only cheated twice,” he finished.

He raised a brow. “Are you trying to open my eyes about something, Blaine?”

He spread his hands, the picture of innocence. “Just that myths are commonly misinterpreted.”

“Uh huh,” he said, not impressed in the slightest. If Blaine expected Kurt to play Persephone, he was out of his mind.

However, being trapped in hell was a lot less terrible than PSAs and demon authorities had led him to believe. Of course, he wasnt being held captive by Blaine. He was sure the actual souls trapped for eternity weren't sitting on an antique chesterfield eating the gourmet dish of their choosing.

They were probably still being ogled by demons, though.

Another day passed, and the plan was finalized, unless the Demon Police changed something in theirs.

That still left four days until Jessie was to be moved, and four days until Kurt could leave Blaines room. Blaine could tell it was getting on his nerves.

Kurt's long body was stretched across Blaines couch as lounged in boredom. His head was hanging off the edge and his neck was teasing him. Blaine imagined crawling into his lap, rubbing his ass against Kurt's crotch as he sucked his neck red with hickies. Kurt would untuck Blaines shirt from his pants and his hands would crawl up his back, pressing him closer. And his moans- oh god, Kurt's moans would fill his room once more and-

“What do you even do all day?” Kurt groaned in a completely different way. “I suddenly understand why you spent so much time watching me if this room is all you had to entertain yourself with.” He pointed a finger at him and added, “Not that boredom excuses your behaviour.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “And this room is only here for human benefit. Like I told you, my base form is almost gaseous. So I just kind of mingle with other demons when I'm here. I'm in the human realm a lot, too.”

 “Looking to strike deals with innocent humans?” he presumed. He arched his back like a cat stretching before sitting up.

Kurt looked at him expectantly, but Blaine had forgotten his question. He was sure he'd never been so distracted by the human form before.

Was he not attractive to Kurt? He didn't expect him to have sex with him again, but he would appreciate a lustful stare or two. He certainly seemed to enjoy Blaines body when he'd flipped him over and fucked him into the mattress last time.

Maybe he just wasn't in the mood. Blaine had heard humans say that a lot.

“Is it not possible for you to have a conversation with me without your eyes glazing over like that?” Kurt's mouth was set in a hard line.

“Sorry?”

“You should be,” he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. “It's like I'm in a porno or something.”

“I'm sorry. You're just- I told you how gorgeous you were last time, and I wasn't lying.”

“Just as long as you're not distracted by my gorgeousness when we rescue Jessie,” he said, voice dripping with derision.

Blaine laughed. “I'm sure-”

He was interrupted by a loud crack, followed by a flash of bright light. The white, sparkling glow died down to reveal a sullen Asian girl with multi-coloured hair.

“What the hell?” Kurt asked, rubbing his eyes.

“You can't just keep humans trapped down here without making any deal,” the angel snapped. “It's a violation of the Angel/Demon Agreement of-”

“I know,” Blaine cut in with a groan.

Kurt stood up and half-hid behind Blaine. “Blaine, who is that girl?”

“I am an angel, fair human. My name is Tina and I'm here to save you from your unjust imprisonment,” she said. “Unless you make a deal with a demon, in which case that is all your problem.”

Kurt peeked at Blaine. “Is she for real?”

He scowled. “I hate angels.”

A paper scroll appeared in Tina's hand. “Kurt Hummel? You have been in hell for more than twenty four hours without making a deal. That is correct?”

“Uh yeah, but where would you be taking me in this rescue?” he asked, without coming out from behind Blaine.

“Um. Home?” She consulted her scroll. “New York.”

“Yeah, I can't go home,” he said. “That's why I'm down here.”

She narrowed her eyes at Blaine. “Why can't he go home?”

He held out his hands. “Not me. Humans are screwing his shit up.”

 “Well, if you hadn't talked to me when I was at the demon cage, the cops wouldn't want me,” Kurt said.

Blaine had not taken his actions into account. He assumed he'd been blameless in this encounter, but yeah no, this was his fault.

Shit. Kurt was never going to like him.

“You're here of your own free will?” she clarified.

“Well, I'd rather be here than in jail,” Kurt said. “For now.”

Tina frowned. The scroll popped out of her hand and in its place a dusty old tome appeared atop a stone pedestal. She started flipping through the book.

“Yeah, make yourself at home,” Blaine said sarcastically.

Fuckin' angels.

“Is she really an angel?” Kurt asked quietly.

Blaine turned to face him, and they were standing so close to each other he could see the freckles dotting Kurt's nose.

“Unfortunately,” he said in response to Kurt's question.

“She's wearing ripped skinny jeans,” he said in confusion.

“Yeah, and I'm wearing a bowtie,” he shrugged. “Myths are commonly misinterpreted.”

Kurt scoffed.

Tina the angel slammed the book shut. “Well, it doesn't look like this arrangement is violating any laws. So I guess this is acceptable.”

“Oh, thanks for your permission,” Blaine said.

“This means that we will strike this case from record,” she said. “So Kurt Hummel, if conditions change to unbearable later, no angel will look into your situation again. Do you agree to these terms?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Um, I guess?”

“Please state your compliance with these terms with a firm yes or no.”

Kurt bit his lip. He looked Blaine up and down and Blaine straightened his shoulders, trying to look however Kurt wanted him to look. Trustworthy? Caring? Non-threatening?

“You're not gonna pull some last minute bullshit, are you?” he asked.

He shook his head. “I don't plan to.”

“Wow, that's really reassuring.”

“It's inadvisable to trust demons,” Tina put in, tapping her foot against the carpet.

“Did anybody ask you, angel?”

“Look, I have other duties to attend to. Kurt Hummel, I can take you away now or forget about you forever. Please choose.”

He ran a hand over his face. “Yes, I agree. I'll stay here.”

“Okay.” She checked off her scroll and then disappeared in another flash of ostentatious white light.

Kurt ducked behind Blaines shoulder to avoid the blinding glare and Blaine grinned.

“What're you so happy about?” he asked after taking a step back.

“You're staying,” he said.

“I was staying before. I have nowhere else to go.”

Which was true, but Blaine was still pleased. Kurt trusted him enough to not screw him over later. That was significant. Probably.

“Shouldn't I have had to sign a release form or something?” he asked.

“Who's going to doubt an angel?”

“You?” Kurt guessed.

“No, I know they tell the truth. They're just annoying.”

“You know, I've never seen an angel before,” Kurt said. “I wasn't even sure they existed.”

“They have no jurisdiction over the human realm, so they rarely venture there,” he said. “They're kind of control freaks.”

“How do they have jurisdiction over the demon realm?”

“We've come to an agreement concerning our interaction with humans,” he said with a wave of his hand. “There might have been a war. We might have lost. It's not a big deal.”

“Oh, okay. The contempt is making more sense now,” Kurt laughed.

Blaine had made Kurt laugh. Kurt was actually smiling in his presence, and Blaine couldn't remember ever being prouder than in that moment.

Okay, he needed to get a grip. Having nothing to focus on but Kurt all day and night was… distracting.

“Hey, why don't we go somewhere?” Blaine said suddenly.

Kurt looked at him like he was stupid. “I think the reasoning behind that has been established.”

“Not New York. Somewhere. A different continent would probably be best.” Kurt didn't say anything so Blaine started giving options. “South America? Antarctica? Oh, how about we go see the Aurora Borealis? Same continent, but it's far enough away that nobody's gonna catch you.”

His face scrunched in confusion. “You want to take me see the Northern Lights?”

“Unless you wanted to read another magazine on my couch,” he shrugged.

“I don't have a coat.”

He rolled his eyes and held out an arm. “You wanna go?”

Kurt looked around the room before taking hold of his elbow. “I guess I could use a break.”