Everything had changed last night.

He rolled over to find Blaine stretched out on his back, breathing deep and slow, his eyelashes dark and stark against skin that glowed fairer than usual in the light caressing his face. His right arm was flung across the pillow above his head, the scarred Kurt Hummel shining silver in the light. God, Kurt thought with a little surge of pride, was there any position, any state of being, in which Blaine was anything less than stunning? He’d seen him gasping with pleasure, desperate and shaking, crying, sobbing in a way that had no business being anything other than ugly. He’d seen him angry enough to spit nails, as Carole liked to say, and loose, unfocused, floating in submissive goo. He’d seen him scared to death and head-over-heels in love. And it was all equally beautiful.

Kurt pushed the comforter down to Blaine’s waist, exposing his smooth chest and toned belly. He rested his hand ever so lightly on Blaine’s abdomen and stroked upward over soft skin, hard ribs, strong muscle, up to his shoulder and down the biceps that Kurt didn’t think he’d ever be able to get enough of. He didn’t worry about waking Blaine up. He wanted to touch and he did. Whether he pulled Blaine from sleep sooner than Blaine might have liked was immaterial.

Because everything had changed last night.

Very little had gone according to plan. He hadn’t planned to fuck Blaine’s face (he could feel heat rise in his cheeks just thinking it to himself) while Blaine knelt on the floor in such a strict position. For that matter, he’d never expected the most extreme posture on his handout to be the one that turned him on the most. It had been the trembling. The trembling had completely overwhelmed him - the way that Blaine hadn’t quite been able to hide the strain it put on his body. He knew how much Blaine hated appearing anything less than perfect, but he could also see how much that very thing turned him on. Blaine liked to be pushed, and Kurt had discovered last night that he liked pushing Blaine. Very, very much. He realized looking back that the face-fucking had been inevitable, once he’d noticed the trembling.

But, hot as it was, that hadn’t been the moment everything had changed.

He hadn’t planned to make Blaine serve him all night, either - he had intended to let Blaine come as soon as he’d regained the desperate state that they’d spent all week working him up to and that had been shattered by all the drama of the afternoon and evening. But Blaine’s reaction to the suggestion that he needed to atone for messing up and moving when he’d been told to be still had done something to Kurt. When Kurt asked Blaine if he deserved Kurt’s dick in his mouth, the look on Blaine’s face had been, well, repentant, for sure, but at the same time blissful.

Thomas, the male half of the couple teaching Kurt’s dom class, had talked about punishment on Wednesday. Punishment, he’d said, was one of the most important ways that a dom could care for a sub. Swift, consistent, strict punishment showed a sub that the dom valued his struggle for excellence. Without punishment, Thomas had explained, the sub was lost, with no sense of the gift of his submission having value to his dom. By requiring perfection, and punishing its lack, a dominant gave a submissive order and focus and showed him how very much his dom cared about his obedience. And when perfection was achieved, earning the dom’s smiling approval, loving words, a touch or reward, the rush the sub felt was better than anything imaginable. Better than an orgasm any day.

Thomas had smiled then in the face of the dismissive rumblings from all the teenage doms in the room who couldn’t possibly imagine anything better than an orgasm.

If it had been Mira, the dominant of the couple, saying it then Kurt might have dismissed it as just more Rachel-like justification for doms to indulge their power kinks. But Thomas was submissive; there was no escaping the conclusion that indulging his own need to control Blaine might be exactly what Blaine would want. And last night had proven it. After Kurt had whispered to Blaine that they were only beginning, he’d stood up, motioning for Blaine to follow, and made his way into the living room. And Blaine had crawled - without being told to - crawled behind him to the armchair and settled onto the cushion Kurt placed on the floor for him.

He’d moved to take up the position again but Kurt had stopped him, guiding his hands to the top of his thighs. “This is okay for now,” he said, trying to keep his voice as commanding as it had been in the bedroom when he’d been too caught up in the moment to be self-conscious. The he stood up tall and gripped Blaine’s chin, forcing his head back so he could look in Kurt’s eyes so far above his own. “For the rest of the night you are going to follow every command I give you - exactly. And if you’re absolutely perfect then maybe you’ll have a chance to earn back the orgasm I was going to let you have before you screwed up.”

Personally, Kurt thought it would have been hotter if he’d actually been able to bring himself to say “fucked up,” but Blaine didn’t seem to find anything lacking. His eyes went soft and dark and he murmured a throaty “Thank you, sir,” and when Kurt let go of his chin he immediately bowed his head in the world’s most perfect demonstration of obeisance.

But that hadn’t been the moment either.

It had happened much later, hours later, after Kurt had watched two episodes of Hoarders and the second half of After the Thin Man, all the while sending Blaine to fetch him drinks and snacks and anything else he could come up with on such short notice with no preparation. After each foray to the kitchen or the bedroom Blaine would come to rest again at Kurt’s feet, quiet and still. His erection never flagged - Kurt hadn’t even thought it was possible to be hard for that long - and Kurt took advantage of the opportunity to reach down and stroke and tease it every time Blaine landed on the cushion, all the while keeping his eyes glued to the television as if Blaine was nothing but an afterthought. That was the hardest part - pretending to be indifferent when the only thing he was aware of was the quivering that Blaine was trying so hard to hold back, the way his fingers dug into the muscles of his thighs as he struggled to stay still, and the soft hitches in his breathing every time Kurt touched him. By the time the movie’s end card flashed on the screen Kurt’s own erection was back and getting almost as insistent as he was sure Blaine’s must have been.

So he’d led Blaine to the bedroom, up onto the bed, and undressed for him, slowly, with Blaine staring at him with wide eyes and fingers clutching at the comforter as if that could somehow help him keep his hands off himself. And that’s when it started, for Kurt, when he was stripping his clothes off feeling not self-conscious in the slightest because this was how it should be. Blaine should be hard and desperate and forced to simply watch as Kurt offered tiny glimpses of bare skin. Blaine should wait, laid out there on the bed like an offering, trembling with the force of the knowledge that Kurt held every possibility in his hands: pain or pleasure, ecstasy or the endless, relentless frustration of not yet.

By the time Kurt’s clothes were gone and he climbed onto the bed to straddle Blaine’s thighs, the feeling of rightness was growing into something more. As he mouthed at Blaine’s nipples, kissed down to his turgid cock, breathed over it then anointed it with tiny teasing licks, Kurt began to feel both insignificant and at the same time the perfect center of the universe. All sensation that wasn’t them melted away. His pleasure intensified – and his need grew more insistent – as time passed and Blaine’s begging slowly deteriorated into whimpers and cries and sobs and ultimately one unending moan only broken when his breath ran out and he had to suck in a harsh, shuddering inhale.

The room had disappeared, everything had disappeared, and Kurt was floating in a space filled only by Blaine’s straining body under his lips and hands, Blaine’s noises in his ears, and his own pounding desire. He’d wondered, vaguely, with the two synapses that weren’t completely occupied torturing Blaine, if there was such a thing as domspace, like the subspace his book had talked about. If there was, then he’d achieved it. The power and control he felt, and more, the sense of the absolute rightness of him having that power over the perfect submissive practically crying beneath him, was on a different plane from anything he’d ever felt before.

Then the timbre of Blaine’s moans had pitched higher and Kurt decided he’d better think about that later. He needed those two synapses to make sure he didn’t accidentally tip Blaine over the edge too soon.

It had felt so right, then, to straighten up, leaving Blaine thrusting against nothing, his hands effectively bound by the blanket they were twisted in, muscles from head to toe corded taut with the effort of holding off his orgasm, or maybe straining toward it, and then jerk himself, hard and fast, overwhelmed by the need to mark Blaine this way. Blaine had opened his eyes, green and gold and bottomless black, and stared at Kurt like he was some kind of god, so worshipful in spite of his burning need, and that, those eyes, that look, had been what toppled Kurt over into tearing ecstasy and he came all over his boy, his perfect, desperate Blaine. Blaine’s cries became sharp and acute as Kurt’s semen splashed hot across his belly and cock and balls; he thrust so hard that Kurt had to cling to Blaine’s chest to keep upright as he rode out the soul-clenching orgasm that seemed like it would never end.

It had ended, of course, eventually and as Kurt fell forward over Blaine’s still-writhing body his eyes fell on the purple mark on Blaine’s neck. The mark he’d put there that afternoon for all the wrong reasons. He surged up and latched his mouth over it, sucking hard, renewing, transforming it, and his hand came up to circle the base of Blaine’s throat, not tightening, just holding, as he worked the flesh between his teeth. Blaine’s voice rose in a primal sound that could have been pleasure or pain and was probably both, and when Kurt pulled back those eyes were still there, unfocused but adoring, and he could feel Blaine’s pulse racing against the base of his thumb. He caressed over it, pressed into it the tiniest bit, and said, without thinking, in a voice he hardly even recognized, “Mine.”

And Blaine, Blaine who hadn’t spoken a coherent word for at least half an hour, stopped thrusting and went still against the blankets, Kurt’s hand heavy and possessive on his neck, eyes full of love and need and pain, and whispered back, like an incantation, “Forever.”

And that had been the moment. When everything changed.

Kurt had felt it, like a physical presence, like dark wind blowing through the room, carrying the knowledge, true and open-eyed, of the finality of those words. Mine. Forever.

He’d slid his hand from Blaine’s throat down his body to his cock, gripped it tight and stroked lightning fast, his own come providing lubrication, and in seconds Blaine was begging again, “Fuck, God, stop, please, I can’t … please, I’m going to …” Tears began to drip from the corners of his tightly closed eyes. Tears. At just the thought of disobedience.

“Come,” Kurt ordered.

Blaine came. Muscles seizing, head thrown back, sobbing incoherent syllables that might have been “fuck” or “Kurt” or some combination of the two, he came. Beautiful even in this extremis, covering himself with spurt after spurt of semen, he came. Kurt whispered in his ear, telling him how wonderful he was, what a good boy he’d been, and his hand flew over Blaine’s cock, jerking hard until it’s fountaining began to subside and tiny whines made their way into Blaine’s gasping sobs. Only then did he slow, when it threatened to become too much, and when Blaine’s body finally collapsed onto the bed he set the soft, spent cock gently on his belly.

Blaine had opened his eyes then – they still looked as dreamy and out-of-focus as Kurt felt – and pulled his lips into a tiny, lax smile before whispering, “Thank you.” And Kurt had smiled back and stroked the damp curls back from Blaine’s forehead and marveled at all the unexpected things he’d been and done and felt.

And now, in bright morning light, he was still marveling. Because even though he was no longer floating but firmly anchored in the reality of this morning, this bedroom, soft sheets and Blaine’s body under his hand, that moment was still echoing all around him.

Mine. Forever.

Intellectually, he’d always known. Everyone knew. Subs belonged to their doms. And soulmates belonged to each other absolutely. Television, movies, novels and plays all glorified that moment when dom and sub connected and forged their bond. It had been the opening paragraph of Domming for Dummies and Mira’s initial speech in dom class. A submissive wanted, needed, was fulfilled by belonging to a dominant. The greatest gifts a dominant could give a submissive were control and the opportunity to serve in every possible way. He’d known.

And he thought he’d felt it. But now he realized that he’d felt the love and connection between them, but not that particular bond of, although it still felt a little odd to think of it that way, ownership. Not completely. Not until that moment, when he’d seen what his “mine” had done to Blaine. When he’d seen the - blissful was the only way to describe it - the blissful relief of Blaine’s “forever.” Blaine was his. And the more he made Blaine his the happier Blaine was going to be. It wasn’t selfish. It was his job to care for Blaine and give him what he needed. It was completely incidental that the thing that fulfilled Blaine the most happened to also be exactly what Kurt fantasized about. Or maybe it was fate. Either way, Kurt would give Blaine anything he needed. Blaine was his.

Which meant, Kurt realized with a sinking heart, that he was probably going to have to find the strength to go back to glee club. Crap.

Well that was a thought that could wait for later.

He stroked along Blaine’s jaw, concentrating instead on the sandpaper rasp of stubble against his fingertips, wondering what it might feel like on other parts of his body. And as if he could read Kurt’s mind, Blaine stirred, sighed gently, and without even opening his eyes turned and wrapped himself around Kurt’s body, burrowing into Kurt’s chest where his stubble caught at the skin just under his nipple.

Kurt shifted a little and wormed one of his legs under Blaine’s, rolling him up so that he was almost completely on top. Maybe it was un-dom-like, letting his sub push him down into the mattress like this, but to Kurt it didn’t feel like restraint at all. He loved taking Blaine’s weight. It felt like trust, when Blaine collapsed into him this way. It made him feel strong and capable. It led his brain to places where Blaine couldn’t hold himself up, where he’d been used to the point of exhaustion and knew it was safe to drop because Kurt would always catch him.

Blaine stretched a little then nestled back against Kurt with a soft hum of pleasure. “This is even better than I remembered,” he said in a sleep-roughened voice.

“Waking up together?” Kurt asked as he nosed against Blaine’s hair.

“Mmm-hmm. You’ve now officially fulfilled every fantasy I had about this weekend.”

“You fantasized about me making you try out kneeling positions?”

Blaine turned his head and pressed a kiss just below Kurt’s collarbone and the hand at his waist tightened into a hug. “I fantasized about you using me,” he said quietly, between soft kisses across Kurt’s chest. “Serving you. Naked. Kneeling.” He lifted his head and the look in his eyes made Kurt’s insides squirm in the best way. “You fucking my mouth, though? That was beyond anything I could have … it was amazing.”

Kurt stroked the hair off Blaine’s forehead in an imitation of the gesture he’d made last night, which made Blaine’s smile even wider. “Well I have had a dom class,” he said. “Doesn’t that make me a trained professional?”

Blaine laughed brightly and snuggled back down into Kurt’s chest. “If last night was anything to go by, you must be their star pupil.” He reached for Kurt’s hand and slid their fingers together. “Seriously, Kurt. When we pulled up here after dinner I thought the whole night was ruined. I kind of just wanted to climb in bed with you and cry. And then you just - somehow you turned it all around. You gave me exactly everything I needed.” He sat up and twisted around to look at Kurt, still holding his hand, eyes full of so much emotion that Kurt was a little stunned and could only stare back at him. “I can’t even - I don’t even have the words to express how it felt, when you held me here -” Blaine wrapped his free hand around the base of his throat, “- and called me yours. Something happened. Inside me. Something changed.”

Kurt reached up and laid his own hand over Blaine’s still on his throat, caressing his thumb over the lurid purple mark that was even brighter than it had been yesterday. “I felt that too,” he whispered.

“Really?”

Kurt nodded.

“It’s like, there weren’t any cuffs or rope or anything,” Blaine said, haltingly, fumbling for the right words, “but I felt so - bound. Held, you know? Like just your words could tie me up and leave me helpless. It was - I’ve never felt anything like it.”

Kurt slid his hand around the back of Blaine’s neck and pulled himself up until he was sitting too, face inches from Blaine’s, staring into brown gold eyes, their lips so close.

“It’s really you and me, isn’t it?” Blaine breathed. “Just us.”

“Forever,” Kurt said, and he pressed their lips together in a quick kiss, just to seal the deal. “As you so eloquently put it last night before you came and then passed out.”

“I did not pass out!”

“You were asleep before I was done in the bathroom, Blaine. I came back with a nice warm washcloth to clean you up and you were snoring.”

“I don’t snore!” Blaine protested. “Do I?”

Kurt laughed and pushed playfully at Blaine’s chest, knocking him backward on top of the covers. “For your punishment you can make the coffee this morning.”

Blaine propped himself on his elbows and spread his legs wide, leering just a little as he displayed himself for Kurt. “Well now I know I don’t snore,” he said. “Because serving you could never be a punishment.”

Kurt snorted as delicately as he could and nudged Blaine’s ribs with his foot. “Is there a reason you’re being a smartass when I’m waiting for my coffee?”

Blaine gave him one more little leer, looking up at him from under fluttering eyelashes, then slid out of bed and headed for the door. He was halfway there before Kurt realized that he was planning on staying naked. “Stop!” he ordered just as Blaine reached the door.

Blaine gave a little wiggle of his magnificent ass before he turned around and clasped his hands behind his back. “Yes, sir?” he asked, all wide-eyed innocence, as if he wasn’t deliberately posing for Kurt’s enjoyment.

“Be careful. Coffee’s hot. And if you damage anything that’s mine,” Kurt let his eyes trail down Blaine’s body to linger on his dick before they rose again to his face, “there will be punishment.”

He tried very hard to sound sincere and he must have succeeded because Blaine’s body contracted in a tiny, involuntary shiver that thrilled Kurt just as much the sight of Blaine naked. “Yes sir,” he said, much more sincerely, and he turned and, with one more little ass wiggle, headed out to the kitchen.

By the time the coffee was done Kurt had dug a pair of pajama bottoms out of his bag and was stretched out on Blaine’s couch with one eye on a cooking show he’d found and the other on Blaine, puttering naked around the kitchen and humming a little to himself.

Blaine brought two steaming mugs into the living room, walking with exaggerated care. He had just settled on the sofa, and Kurt was taking his first sip of perfectly prepared coffee and wondering at how natural it felt to be dressed while Blaine was not, even when they weren’t “scene-ing” (a word Kurt actually hated because it made sex and dominance sound like some kind of prepared performance), when Kurt’s phone, which was still in the bedroom, chimed just loud enough to be heard. He reached to set his mug on the coffee table but Blaine was way ahead of him, already up and heading toward the bedroom to fetch it.

It was a text from Finn. Blaine sipped his coffee while Kurt read.

dude, rachels here nows ur chance to corner her ill make sure she doesnt leave

Which didn’t sound at all like Finn. He must have looked puzzled, because Blaine touched his arm. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

Kurt showed him the text.

“I don’t know Finn very well, but that doesn’t seem like the way he’d talk about his dom.”

Kurt read the text once more then sent a short reply.

Finn?

More than a minute passed before the phone chimed again.

puck i stole finns phone dont have ur # now get ur ass over here b4 she figures out ur coming

Where’s here? Kurt texted back.

ur house duh.

Kurt held the phone out to Blaine and took a swig of coffee while he read. Blaine frowned a little but handed the phone back without a word. Kurt put it down on the table and returned to his coffee.

“What do you want to do?” Blaine asked finally, when the silence was just starting to get uncomfortable.

“This is our weekend,” Kurt said without taking his eyes off his mug.

“Oh, God, no Kurt!” Blaine set his cup on the coffee table and scooted closer to take Kurt’s and dispose of it as well. He took Kurt’s hands in his own coffee-warmed ones and when Kurt looked up at him his eyes were all soft brown concern and understanding. “I know I’m greedy and impatient and pretty vocal about wanting every second of you that I can get, but we really do have our whole lives together. And this is important. She’s your best friend.”

“I know. I just - I know I’ve been trying to talk to her all week but now that I actually can it’s a little …”

“Scary?” Blaine supplied.

“What if she hates you? How am I supposed to fix that? What if she’s just completely jealous? What if it’s something stupid and shallow and I can’t do anything about it?”

Blaine smiled and squeezed Kurt’s hands tighter. “She’s your best friend,” he repeated. “So whatever this is it has to be hurting her as much as it is you. I doubt it’s stupid or shallow.”

“I don’t know. This is Rachel we’re talking about.”

“Rachel who is your best friend. There must be some reason you put up with all the crazy.”

Kurt couldn’t help chuckling a little at that. “Sometimes I wonder. It’s a lot of crazy.”

Kurt’s phone chimed loud again and he grabbed it from the table.

R U CUMMING?!

“Noah’s a strange kid,” Blaine said, reading over his shoulder.

“The scary thing is he could absolutely mean that either way.”

Blaine took the phone from Kurt wiggled his eyebrows at him. “Well? Are you?”

Kurt stood with a sigh and held out his hand to Blaine. “Apparently. And not in the fun way.”

They could hear voices before they even got to the top of the porch steps. Loud, teenage boy voices. Beside him Kurt felt Blaine’s steps falter so he took his arm and pulled him gently along. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “It’s just Finn and Puck and maybe a couple of other people. We’ll say a quick hi and go find Rachel. She wouldn’t be caught dead in the middle of any of their video game battles.”

Blaine huffed a little, like he didn’t quite buy Kurt’s reassurance, but he picked up the pace and stayed close by Kurt’s side as they approached the door.

“A couple of other people” turned out to be Sam, sitting on the floor between Puck, in Burt’s big armchair, and Finn, stretched out on the sofa. They were playing some kind of army game that seemed vaguely familiar to Kurt. Before he could even close the door Sam and Puck both shouted “NO!!” so loudly that Blaine jumped. Puck reached across Sam and snatched the controller from Finn’s hand.

Finn’s face colored and he glared at Puck. “What? I had a clear shot!”

“Dude, I know Rachel has your balls locked up but did she take your eyes, too? My grammy would have known better than to go for that shot.” He laughed at his own burn and held up his hand for Sam to high-five.

Kurt let the door slam shut behind them and all three heads turned in their direction, faces reflecting three very different emotions. Sam looked surprised. Finn looked shocked and more than a little unhappy, although Kurt had to admit that could have been because he knew Rachel was here and trying to avoid him. Puck’s eyes slid very obviously over the hickey on Blaine’s neck but then continued upward to grin at him like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Blaine! Excellent!” He pushed himself up over the back of the chair and gestured at Blaine, ignoring Kurt completely. “Now we can do teams and that’s way better than one-on-one!”

Kurt knew he was gaping, which wasn’t at all attractive, and he really needed to close his mouth, but at least Blaine’s mouth was hanging open too, staring at the boy who’d never once addressed him with anything other than “Mr. A” respect.

Puck ignored their obvious surprise. “C’mon dude! We need you. It’s a lot easier than Finn makes it look. You’ve got, like, degrees and shit, right? You’ll figure it out in no time.”

Blaine’s eyebrows were so high up his forehead that Kurt would have laughed if Blaine hadn’t been so serious, staring at Kurt and clearly hoping for a rescue. But Kurt wasn’t surprised to find that he wasn’t sure this was a situation that called for rescuing.

“I’m not …” Blaine said when it became apparent he was on his own, “I mean, Kurt’s really the one …”

“Hummel’s useless,” Puck said with a dismissive wave. “He’s totally lacking in the murder and mayhem department.”

“Yes, I have no desire to shoot everything that moves. How will I ever live with myself?”

“Oh, there was that one time,” Finn interjected, apparently over his initial reaction to seeing them, “when he and Lauren hacked the code and he changed the uniforms for us. That was helpful. The camo was way better.”

“Okay, not entirely useless,” Puck allowed. “But he’s still not getting in the game.” He gave Kurt a little pleading look, as if he hadn’t just dismissed him completely. “Come on, Hummel. Make your boy play with us. It’ll be good for him. He can get out some of his – frustrations.”

Puck wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, leaving no doubt about what frustrations he was referring to. But when Blaine silently appealed to Kurt for help again half of Kurt’s brain was too stuck on the fact that Puck had called him your boy to respond. The other half was maybe starting to see the method in Puck’s madness, and he was a little scared that it was making sense to him.

“It is way more fun with teams,” Sam said, eyes darting from Kurt to Blaine like he wasn’t sure who he should be trying to convince.

Kurt turned and smiled at Blaine, a reassuring smile, he hoped. “You should play. It’ll give you something to do while I find Rachel.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Finn’s glance up at him and then away at the mention of Rachel’s name. “And you can get to know my friends.”

Blaine still looked a little bit like a spooked horse – there was more white around the edges of his eyes than there should be. But Kurt squeezed his arm and nodded and Blaine gave a little sigh then turned toward the couch where Finn was still sprawled.

But before he could take two steps Puck jumped up from the armchair. “Cool. Sit here. You and Sam can be a team.” He moved to the couch and unceremoniously dumped Finn’s legs onto the floor. “Finncapable here’d probably shoot himself in the foot without me to look out for him.”

“Hey!” Finn protested, although Kurt wasn’t sure if he was protesting the insult or just being manhandled.

“Besides, doms against subs would just be totally unfair.”

“Being a sub didn’t keep me from beating your ass yesterday!”

“In Mario Kart, Finn. All you have to do is sit in the cart.”

“And steer the cart!”

“My point is it’s not -”

While they bickered, Blaine gave Kurt a pained look but made his way to Burt’s armchair and sat down. Sam smiled in a crooked, awkward way and handed him a controller with a quiet, “I’m Sam, by the way.”

“Blaine,” Blaine answered.

“I know,” Sam nodded. “Have you ever played this before?”

Blaine shot another look at Kurt, then turned his attention back to Sam. “I, uh, I used to play Doom when I was a kid.”

Sam’s face lit up, apparently relieved that they’d found some common ground. “Well this is just like that! Except the graphics are way better. And this isn’t a computer game so all the controls are different. But I’m sure you’ll get it right away.” He scooted a little closer and started pointing out the various buttons and explaining their functions.

Puck was still arguing with Finn; he looked up at Kurt long enough to jerk his chin in the direction of the kitchen door. Kurt headed that way, but paused in the doorway and turned back just for a moment to watch Blaine, his dark head bent toward Sam’s fair one, nodding solemnly as Sam explained how to work the controller. When Puck’s eyes met his again, Kurt mouthed a silent “thank you.” Puck just shrugged, but for some reason Kurt could read exactly what he meant with that shrug. All part of the awesome.

So Kurt was actually laughing a little when he headed down the little hall toward the kitchen, although his heart was starting to race with anticipation. He was usually good at this kind of thing. Good at attacking people, when he needed to, and tearing down their arguments. But this was Rachel, and with Rachel things always seemed so complicated. He would go in loaded for bear but somehow find himself comforting her, his own hurt feelings forgotten. He usually ended up hating himself for getting caught up in the Rachel pity party, but that never seemed to stop it from happening. The girl had the emotional gravity of a black hole.

Well not this time. Kurt wasn’t going to apologize for his happiness and he sure as hell wasn’t going to apologize for Blaine. If she wanted to be selfish and petty and jealous then she was going to find herself minus one friend by the time this conversation was over. Kurt held onto that thought like chain mail armor. He’d done nothing wrong.

He found Carole in the kitchen, alone, wiping down the counter with something that smelled bright and citrusy sharp. She looked up at the sound of the door and her smile widened when she spotted Kurt.

“Hey, honey. I didn’t expect to see you this weekend. Is Blaine with you?”

“The guys stole him to play video games with them,” Kurt said, jerking his head back toward the living room, where he could still hear Finn, Sam and Puck exclaiming over the game.

Carole dropped her sponge by the sink and dried her hands on the dishtowel she had flung over her shoulder. “Well that’s a good sign, right? I mean, Finn could barely speak to him last night.”

Kurt shrugged. “Right,” he said, obviously less enthusiastically than Carole expected.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“I’m just - have you seen Rachel? Puck said she might be in here.”

Carole gave him a knowing smile. “She bolted out the back door the minute she heard your voice. Are you two fighting? Because I’ve never seen Rachel run away from anyone. She usually runs toward trouble.”

Kurt laughed a little, but only because Carole seemed to expect it, and went to peek out the window over the back door. He could just see Rachel at the far end of the yard, under the elm tree on the wide gliding couch Burt had installed so that he and Carole could sit out and look at the stars. She had her back to the house, her knees drawn up to her chest in a very un-Rachel-like attempt to make herself small. Kurt must have made a noise, because Carole appeared at his side and settled a hand on his shoulder.

“You are fighting. Oh, honey, what happened?”

Kurt shook his head. “I don’t even know. She’s barely said a word to me since she found out about Blaine. And she hides from me whenever I try to talk to her.”

Carole just looked at him for a minute, and Kurt got the feeling that she wanted to say something, but she must have decided against it because she reached out and turned the handle to open the door. “Well you’ve got her cornered now. Might as well make the most of it.”

“Right.” Kurt took a deep breath to try to quiet his nerves, and stepped through the door, with a little helpful shove from Carole’s hand on his shoulder. The click of the latch as she closed the door sounded much too loud in his ears, but Rachel didn’t move so either she didn’t hear or she was just hoping he’d go away. He crossed the yard slowly, and she must have heard him, he certainly wasn’t trying to be stealthy, but she still didn’t turn around. Which was good, because the more she ignored him the angrier Kurt got. And a little righteous indignation was never a bad thing when going into an argument with Rachel Berry.

She stayed silent, her eyes fixed on the ivy-covered fence that separated their yard from the Mulligans next door, as he settled next to her on the glider and pulled his own feet up in a mirror image of her defensive posture. He waited for her to say something – surely she should be the one to speak to him; it wasn’t like he’d been the one avoiding her for an entire week.

But not surprisingly Rachel didn’t seem inclined to do what she should. She sat, huddled in her sweater, hugging her knees, and didn’t even turn her head to look at him. And the longer she was silent the angrier Kurt became. Did she honestly think ignoring him would make him go away? As far as Kurt could see, he hadn’t done anything to piss her off except meet his soulmate, and he could hardly be blamed for that. Fate chose the time. She’d told him that herself.

“So how long are you going to sit there and pretend I’m not here?” he asked finally, when he couldn’t take the silence any more.

Rachel didn’t answer. In fact, she gave no sign that he’d even spoken at all. Well at least that answered his question.

“Alright, fine. I don’t know what bug crawled up your ass, Rachel Berry, but this is low even for you. This is probably the most important thing that will ever happen in my life and you’re supposed to be my best friend and you can’t even pretend that you’re happy for me?”

She looked at him then, turned sharp and fast and stared at him with wide, shocked eyes. “You think I’m not happy for you?”

Kurt gaped at her. “How do you even have the gall to look surprised? You’ve hardly spoken to me all week! You were so excited when you thought I’d met someone and as soon as you found out it was Blaine you just . . disappeared. You won’t talk to me. You barely even look at me. What am I supposed to think?” She turned away from him again, buried her face in the arms that were wrapped around her knees, and Kurt stuck his foot out and gave the swing a frustrated shove. They both sat in silence as it rocked.

Kurt knew he should just get up and go back into the house. He was only feeding whatever narcissistic bee Rachel had in her bonnet. But he needed to know. He knew it would drive him crazy if he couldn’t figure it out. “Is it New York?” he asked as the swinging drifted to a stop. “I mean, I know we talked about getting a place together there after we graduate and this kind of messes that up, but, he’s my soulmate, Rachel. And it’s not like I planned this. No one could have seen this coming.”

“It’s not New York,” she said into her arms.

“Then is it - Blaine? If you have some kind of problem with him at least have the courage to say it to my face. Or if you’re jealous -”

She looked at him again, surprised, again, and Kurt was really starting to get tired of the guessing game.

“Oh God, I’m not jealous Kurt! At least, not in the way you think.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? You’re not making any sense, Rachel.” Kurt gave the swing another hard push. “My life’s turned completely upside-down in the last week and I’m doing all these things I never imagined I could do and it’s scary, okay? It’s scary and exciting and I need my best friend. I need someone I can talk to. And I don’t need to be sitting here playing twenty questions with you to try and figure out what kind of stick you’ve got up your butt.”

Rachel’s eyes filled with tears at that, but Kurt held fast to the glider’s edge, fingers digging into the cushion. He wasn’t going to be sucked in. Not this time. Rachel was going to have to deal with her own crazy.

The tears didn’t spill over, though. That surprised Kurt. Rachel usually didn’t hesitate to cry buckets if she thought it’d win her some sympathy. She just looked at Kurt, with a kind of lost puppy expression, but she kept herself under control.

“Can I tell you something?” she finally asked in a quiet voice.

“That’s kind of what I’ve been asking you to do,” Kurt answered.

She turned away from him and looked back at the fence. “Finn’s not my soulmate.”

“I know,” Kurt confessed with a sigh. Rachel’s head snapped back to stare at him. “He told me the day I met Blaine. I was sort of freaking out and he was helping me and it just kind of came out.”

“He never told me you knew.”

“Well, now you have something to punish him for so, bright side?” Kurt quipped, but Rachel didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow at his attempted joke.

“I just - I love Finn so much. I can’t imagine loving anyone more than I love him. What we have, it’s real Kurt.”

“Of course it is.” Kurt reached for her hands automatically, and by the time he realized what he’d done it was too late, she was gripping his fingers like a lifeline and there was no way to gracefully pull away.

“And it’s never seemed like - like it was less, you know?” she said, and at least she was really looking at him now and trying to be sincere. “Because he’s not my soulmate. I’ve never felt like there was anything missing. And I know what everyone thinks - Rachel Berry, always making everything about herself and they’re right. They are. Because you’re my best friend in the world and you found your soulmate and all I can think about is -” she took a deep breath and the tears brimming in her eyes finally spilled over and down her cheeks, “- all I can think about is that if I look at you, if I really see you - how happy you are with Blaine and how perfect you two are together - that I’ll see what’s missing. For us. I’ll see how it could be different and maybe he won’t feel like enough anymore and what the hell am I supposed to do then, Kurt?”

She pulled one of her hands out of his to wipe at her face. He kept the other held tight.

“Oh my God, Rachel. I didn’t even think -”

“Don’t do that!” She pointed her damp finger at him and gave him what must have been meant to be a glare. “I don’t deserve sympathy. I’m a terrible friend.”

“Yes you are, but not because of this,” he said, and then laughed a little at the indignant look she gave him. “So that’s why you’ve been avoiding me? Because you were scared?”

“You just - you don’t know what it’s like to know that the person who feels like the love of your life - isn’t.” She shook her head. “I mean, I’ve known since the beginning that Finn wasn’t the one. But I guess the whole soulmate thing seemed so far away that it didn’t really matter. But then you met Blaine and it all got so real, you know? Your soulmate just walked into class one day and that means mine could be anywhere. I could meet him tomorrow and I guess it just never felt that real to me before.” She sniffed very inelegantly then gave a little shrug. “Maybe I should never have gotten involved with Finn in the first place. Maybe I should have just waited for him.” She looked down at the cuff on her left wrist, stroked it gently with the tips of her fingers.”

“No, Rachel. You can’t put your life on hold waiting for your soulmate. You’re the one who told me that. It happens when it’s supposed to happen. Blaine spent almost fourteen years waiting for me. And that’s a really long time to be alone. You don’t want to do that to yourself.” Kurt touched her fingers, which still rested on the brown leather. “He wouldn’t want you to do that to yourself.”

“All I want is to love Finn. And be happy.”

“Then do it. Don’t let what-ifs stop you from having what you want. That’s no way to live. And it certainly doesn't sound like anything Rachel Berry would do.”

She sniffed again and gave him a watery smile. “I don’t deserve you.”

“No you don’t,” he agreed. “Aren’t you lucky that you’ve got me anyhow?”

She unbent completely then, and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. “So lucky,” she whispered in his ear. “And I’m really so happy for you Kurt,” she said as she settled back again. “I really mean that. If anyone deserves this, it’s you. And I’m sorry. I should have been there for you.”

“You’re forgiven. This once. But I expect at least a month of perfect best friend behavior in exchange.”

She held up her pinky and he wrapped his own around it and shook. But when she tried to let go he kept it gripped tight.

“Look, I don’t know how to fix this,” he said, “but I need you, Rach. And I think you need me too. So how about you promise to try not to compare you and Finn to anyone else, including me and Blaine, and I’ll promise to hold back on the rhapsodizing about how perfect my boyfriend is?”

Her smile widened and she nodded. “I think I can live with that. Although, a little rhapsodizing might be okay. I wouldn’t mind knowing what that ass looks like without pants on it.”

“I thought the whole idea was to not make Finn seem inadequate.”

She laughed and smacked him on the arm, and when he stood up and held out his hand she took it and let him lead her back toward the house. But she pulled him back before they reached the door.

“You’ll come back to glee now, right? Since we’re okay?”

Kurt sighed. “I didn’t quit because of us, Rach.”

“Not completely, I know. But we were still part of it, weren’t we? You were upset because we didn’t really accept you and Blaine. But I’ll help, Kurt. I’ll talk to everybody and I can totally lead by example. It’ll be so much better, I swear. Please?”

She batted her eyes and him and begged very impressively for someone as domininant as she was.

“I’ve taken it under advisement,” Kurt conceded. “But I’m not making any decision today.”

She bounced a little and looked so smug that he felt obligated to add, “That’s not a yes.”

“It will be!” she sang as she bounded up the steps and pulled open the back door.

“Rachel!” He chased after her, trying to be severe but laughing a little in spite of himself. It just felt so good to have her back, and tormenting him in the usual ways. When they tumbled into the kitchen Carole’s face lit up at the sight of them.

“Well this looks hopeful,” she said.

Rachel grinned at her and dragged Kurt though the kitchen. He gave Carole a helpless shrug as he was pulled toward the door. The boys’ voices were still echoing through the house but now he could hear Blaine’s blending in with them and they entered the room just in time to see Blaine and Sam high-five each other without even taking their eyes off the television screen, while Finn groaned and Puck punched him in the arm.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“For being an idiot!”

“Are you kidding me? No one could have dodged that shot!”

“Stop manhandling my boyfriend, Noah!”

Everyone looked up when Rachel spoke, but Kurt didn’t see if anyone reacted to the sight of him and Rachel together. He could really only see Blaine, who smiled back at him with sparkling eyes and cheeks flushed with effort or excitement. Blaine’s eyes flickered to Rachel then back to Kurt, and yes, they were definitely psychic because he could read the question as plain as if Blaine had actually asked it. He gave a tiny nod, and Blaine’s smile got even wider.

“It’s about time you two made up,” Puck said, ignoring Rachel’s order. “You’re both hard enough to put up with when you’re happy.”

Rachel went to perch on the arm of the sofa next to Finn and Kurt followed her example, settling beside Blaine and rubbing his back. Blaine was still smiling at Kurt when something exploded on the screen and Puck shouted triumphantly.

“Dude, the game!” Sam reached for Blaine’s controller and shoved it back into his hands.

“Sorry,” Blaine said. He turned his attention back to the screen.

“I mean, I know you’re in love and all, but there’s a time and a place, you know? If you’re not one hundred percent committed, we’re both dead meat. Got it?”

“Got it,” Blaine nodded. “One hundred percent.”

“All right! Let’s wreak some havoc!”

Kurt kept his hand on Blaine’s back, where he could feel the muscles tense and relax as Blaine worked the game controller. He looked around at his friends, Rachel, looking at Finn in much the same way that he must have been looking at Blaine, Puck, who he was starting to feel an irrational desire to hug, Sam, who Kurt knew from experience tended to take people at face value without passing judgment, and Blaine, who somehow looked very much at home in this crazy group.

It wasn’t at all the Saturday he’d had planned – which was starting to feel like a theme – but it was kind of perfect just the same.