Kurt had had his cuff for a few weeks now, but the novelty still hadn’t worn off for his friends. Puckerman had been bugging him since day one about his name, and he was using the fact that Dr. Fletcher was late for history – again – to bring it up – again.

“Dude, I just want to know if it’s a guy.” Puck leaned past Jenn Gibbs to get in Kurt’s face.

Kurt turned an astonished glare on him. “Is that seriously what this is about?”

“Well, yeah. You’re the only gay dude I know. I want to know how that works!”

Kurt sighed and wished for the millionth time that he’d gotten his mark at the same time everyone else had. This time last year it had seemed like new cuffs appeared a couple of times a week. The latest mark-ee could enjoy being the center of attention for a few days then pass the honor to the next person before things got too annoying. Being the last meant that there wasn’t anyone else to absorb some of the curiosity. It had been fun at first, but now the constant attention was starting to get old.

“Yes, Noah. I’m gay. My soulmate is a boy. It’s not that hard to follow.”

“I get it, Hummel. I’m just trying to . . .”

But before Kurt could discover Puck’s ultimate goal, a commotion at the classroom door drew everyone’s attention. Rachel Berry was making an even more dramatic entrance than usual.

“Guess what I just overheard in Principal Figgins’ office?!” she announced to the room at large. When no one responded to her teaser she simply flung her arms wide in an even grander gesture and increased her volume until her voice echoed through the room. “Dr. Fletcher is GONE!” She held her pose for a moment, until she was sure she had everyone’s attention, then in a patented leave-‘em-wanting-more move, dropped her arms and her dramatic expression and slipped through the desks to fall into the empty chair next to Kurt and begin pulling things out of her bag.

Everyone started talking at once. Rachel didn’t look up from her unpacking, but her smile said she’d accomplished exactly what she’d intended.

“What do you mean, gone?” Kurt asked her, because loath as he was to feed Rachel’s need for attention, a disappearing teacher was definitely an item of interest. Plus he was kind of grateful to her for distracting Puck’s attention from him.

“I mean,” she replied without looking up from her work organizing book, papers and writing instruments in perfect preparation for the history lesson, “gone. As in never coming back to McKinley High.”

She was obviously still holding back juicy details, so Kurt put on his best wheedling voice. “And why is he never to grace the hallowed halls again?”

Rachel had worn a cuff on her left wrist since the summer before sophomore year. There was no way she could resist a pleading tone. As Kurt suspected, she finally looked up from her organizing and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially.

“I heard he tried to accost an unattached sub in the parking lot after school yesterday. And,” her voice got even quieter and Kurt had to move closer to hear, “I heard the sub in question was Dave Karofsky.”

That definitely got Rachel the reaction she was looking for. Kurt was genuinely stunned. Dr. Fletcher had always seemed so normal and calm. Kurt knew that things could be difficult for doms who were single too long, at least that’s how television and movies made it seem, but could being alone too long really make a rational person suddenly assault a student? Especially one who was already having trouble adjusting to his sub status? It was enough to make Kurt feel sorry for Karofsky, which was a pretty tall order.

The dominant hormones in Kurt’s body were only starting to show themselves, he knew, but still, he couldn’t imagine being desperate and lonely enough to go around grabbing at unclaimed subs. The thought that any dom – that he – could possibly be reduced to that was kind of terrifying.

“Are you sure about this, Rachel? It’s a pretty big accusation.”

“I was in the office this morning when Principal Figgins was telling Miss Bates all about it. I have sort of superhuman hearing, you know.” She waited for Kurt to acknowledge that but when he only stared at her, she continued. “Then she asked him how long the substitute would be staying – for the paperwork – and Principal Figgins said the rest of the year. Because, and I quote, ‘There’s no way we can have Paul around the students ever again.’”

She nodded her head with finality, as if this totally settled the matter. Kurt was about to point out that it did nothing of the sort when there was another disturbance at the door and a man, a slightly disheveled but, wow, gorgeous man, bustled into the room juggling papers, a briefcase, and a large travel mug of coffee. He barely glanced at the class in his rush to set everything down before he dropped something, but Kurt couldn’t take his eyes off him. He leaned into Rachel, all thoughts of Dave Karofsky gone.

“Good lord, please let that be the sub!” he whispered.

“Apparently he’s the sub sub,” Rachel giggled, holding up her own bare right wrist.

“If he’s the gay sub sub I might have to rethink my stance on the existence of God.”

“Oh, no. I totally don’t get a gay vibe. He’s on my team. Definitely.”

Kurt dragged his gaze away from the teacher, who seemed to be muttering to himself as he tried to organize his things, and raised an eyebrow at Rachel. “For someone who spends so much time with me, you have a tragic lack of gaydar.”

Rachel arched an identical eyebrow back at him. “Straight people can wear bow ties too, you know.”

At that moment the sub sub looked up from the desk and seemed to notice the room full of students for the first time. Kurt felt his senses prickle a bit as the teacher surveyed them with a sheepish smile. He was definitely beautiful to look at. How he managed that in a sweater vest and bow tie Kurt wasn’t quite sure; the slightly chaotic curly hair and beyond huge golden brown eyes might have something to do with it.

“Sorry I’m late . . . paperwork . . .” He offered the room an apologetic grin. It occurred to Kurt that those liquid eyes and that smile would look amazing when focused up at a person from, say, his knees.

Okay. His first official dom thought. Everyone had told him he’d start having them, usually at random, inappropriate moments. Something that felt like arousal stirred in Kurt’s belly, although he wasn’t sure if it was from the mental picture of the pretty teacher on his knees or just from the fact that he’d actually had a dom thought. Next to him Rachel gave a tiny sigh and Kurt realized she was probably having the exact same dom thought. So much for arousal.

But the object of their fantasies was still talking.

“Sadly,” he said, taking a sip from his ceramic mug, “it seems Dr. Fletcher won’t be returning this year. I’m Mr. Anderson and I’ll be your substitute until the district comes up with a permanent replacement.”

A tiny gasp was the only thing that might have given Kurt’s reaction away. Fortunately, Rachel’s senses weren’t actually superhuman, so she couldn’t hear the way his heartbeat sped up at the word “Anderson.” Which was ridiculous, really. Anderson was a very common name. There were five Andersons in the McKinley junior class alone. And Kurt had promised himself that he wouldn’t ever have a repeat of last week, when he’d staked out the service desk at the local mall for a solid hour after “Mr. Anderson” had been paged to return there. Soulmates found each other when they were supposed to, Rachel kept reminding him, apparently with no stalking required. Besides, this Mr. Anderson was a grown man and while it wasn’t unheard of for doms to be a great deal younger than their subs, it was fairly unusual. Of course, Kurt figured everything about his life was unusual.

Mr. Anderson was still talking, rifling through stacks of books and papers left willy-nilly on Dr. Fletcher’s desk.

“If you’ll all just give me a minute to get organized and find the attendance book, I’ll take role and we can get started.” He glanced up at them with a questioning look. Like he was asking for approval. Like he was asking for permission.

A voice in Kurt’s head spoke, plain as Rachel had been in his ear.

You have 45 seconds - no longer. Don't make me wait.

Well crap. Were dom thoughts supposed to be so . . . specific? Or was he just reacting more strongly because the teacher’s name was Anderson? And why did he feel so annoyed when Mr. Anderson went back to searching the desk without being granted the permission he had so obviously, if unconsciously, been looking for?

Kurt glanced at Rachel but she was absorbed in her pencils at the moment. So she hadn’t reacted to the whole permission-asking thing, then. He’d ask her about it at lunch. Oddly, Rachel had become his go-to dom for questions about what was normal. And even more oddly, she always seemed to be able to make him feel better about his struggles with the new thoughts and feelings taking over his body.

A light tapping drew everyone’s attention to the door for a third time, where Mrs. Dixon, the elderly French teacher, was smiling and waving a piece of paper.

“I think you dropped something, dear.” She fluttered the paper in Mr. Anderson’s direction and he smiled at her as he made his way around the desk to the door. Immediately a murmur of voices swelled through the room as everyone started chatting the way students always do when their teacher’s attention is elsewhere. Kurt took the opportunity to stare openly at Mr. Anderson’s ass, which was really quite remarkable. Hormones, he told himself. A person had to give in to them occasionally.

He could hear snippets of the teachers’ conversation over the general noise in the room, but really, the ass was much more interesting. Until Mrs. Dixon held out her hand, clearly introducing herself, and Mr. Anderson did the same.

Kurt stopped breathing.

The room was noisy and their voices were low but it sounded like, he could have sworn that the drop-dead gorgeous sub sub had just introduced himself as Blaine Anderson.

Which was impossible and clearly Kurt’s dom hormones were inducing more auditory hallucinations. The classroom was noisy. He’d misheard. He was having some kind of waking fantasy.

The two teachers were still chatting quietly and Kurt reached blindly for Rachel without taking his eyes off of them.

“Rachel!” God, why was his voice shaking?

“Hey, are you okay?”

“To be determined. I need your bionic ears. What did Mr. Anderson just say his first name was?”

Rachel thought for a moment. “I wasn’t really listening, you know. Ummm, Blake? Or Blair maybe? Definitely something with a bl.”

Blair, Kurt thought. It had to be Blair. Because no one got their mark then three weeks later met their soulmate, who happened to be a stunningly beautiful full-grown adult, before they’d even had the chance to take one dom class. Life just didn’t work that way.

Except Mr. Anderson was making his way back to his desk, new paper in hand, so the class was starting to quiet down and Mrs. Dixon was still speaking.

“Well, welcome to McKinley, Blaine. Don’t let these creatures give you too much trouble.” And with another quick smile she was gone.

And the bottom fell out of Kurt’s brain.