Oh God. Kurt Hummel. Mr. Anderson was even now searching for the attendance book. When he found it he’d open it and read down and see Kurt’s name. Even if he had some kind of reaction that he couldn’t control, Kurt wouldn’t know if it was due to the name Kurt Hummel or because he’d gone to college with Jenn Gibbs’ older sister or used to babysit Kelly Rodinsky. And Kurt needed to know if he was right. Because there was no way on earth he was going to approach Mr. Anderson unless he was sure. Without thinking any further, Kurt jumped to his feet and shot his hand into the air.

“Excuse me, Mr. Anderson?”

The golden eyes looked up from the mess on Dr. Fletcher’s desk and landed for the first time on Kurt. He held his breath, waiting for a reaction. It was probably completely his imagination, but he could have sworn the gaze softened, warmed, as Mr. Anderson looked at him. Like his teacher found him attractive. Impossible.

“Yes . . . ?” Mr. Anderson paused as if he was waiting for Kurt to fill in his name. So Kurt did.

“Kurt. I’m Kurt Hummel.”

And there it was. Mr. Anderson went absolutely still. His lips parted the tiniest bit. His eyes widened just enough; his throat worked in one convulsive swallow. Oh, he was good. Signs flashed into life and then were hidden so quickly that Kurt was sure no one else noticed them. But in that first frozen microsecond of the rest of his life, Kurt knew beyond a shadow of a doubt. He saw every tiny signal. Because he was attuned to them. Because Mr. Anderson was . . . holy crap. Was his sub. His soulmate.

They stood for a split-second of eternity with their eyes locked, Kurt knowing and Mr. Anderson knowing that he knew. Then just when Kurt was sure he was going to do something stupid like jump over the desk and shove his sub . . . his sub . . . up against the white board, Mr. Anderson broke the gaze and pretended to search for the attendance book again.

“Did you have a question, Kurt?” he asked without looking up. But the tiniest flush spread over his face and down his neck when he spoke Kurt’s name.

Crap. He didn’t have a question. Not an appropriate one, anyhow. Improvise. “Um . . . well, I was wondering if you’re going to be following Dr. Fletcher’s syllabus while you’re here, or will you be, um, changing things?”

Mr. Anderson looked up again to meet Kurt’s gaze. Kurt stared right back, hoping he looked strong and in control. Challenging.

“I . . . I thought I’d stick with the syllabus mostly. With maybe occasional departures if it seems warranted?”

Oh God. It was a question. He’d most definitely made it a question. And now he kept his lovely eyes on Kurt while he waited for the answer.

“Okay. Good.” Kurt was very proud of himself for keeping his voice steady, because absolutely nothing else was. Especially when Mr. Anderson’s eyes lowered to the desk in obvious acknowledgement and the flush on his cheeks deepened.

People were starting to stare at Kurt, and Rachel poked him and mouthed a silent “what’s up?” but he just shook his head at her and took his seat again. Mr. Anderson had resumed shoving things around on Dr. Fletcher’s desk, but it was obvious he had given up even the pretense of actually looking for anything. His hands moved faster and faster and for a second Kurt thought he was going to just sweep everything onto the floor. Instead, he suddenly froze completely, still staring down at the desk where any semblance of order had been destroyed. In a short, abrupt move he shook his head once, hard, and then looked up at the clock on the back wall.

“I can’t seem to find the attendance book,” he told the clock in a careful, precise voice, “so I should head to the office and see if they can print me a roster.”

“You know we could just tell you who’s not here,” Puck offered helpfully. Mr. Anderson’s eyes flickered to him briefly, then back to the clock.

“No, I want to get things right on my first day. Everyone read your next chapter until I get back.” He practically ran out the door.

Conversation in the room picked up again and only a few students actually opened their books. Kurt wasn’t one of them. Kurt couldn’t even remember which book he was supposed to be reading.

There was a war going on in Kurt’s head. On the one hand, his dom brain, completely beyond his control now, was conjuring up images that made his earlier thoughts seem like child’s play. Mr. Anderson on his knees again – naked this time. Mr. Anderson looking up at him with those golden eyes, pleading, begging for things that Kurt didn’t even have words to articulate. Spread out on a bed, hands cuffed over his head, body straining . . . Kurt had to curl his hands around the edge of his chair to resist the urge to go chase down his sub and mark him in some wildly inappropriate way.

While his dom hormones were roaring like lions, the teenage virgin in the other half of his brain was quietly having a breakdown. Mr. Anderson was a full-grown adult. Mr. Anderson had been to college and lived on his own. Unless there was something seriously wrong with him, Mr. Anderson had had sexual relationships and played with other doms. Mr. Anderson – and dear God, he really had to stop calling him Mr. Anderson in his head – Blaine was probably (certainly) expecting a grown-up, experienced soulmate and he was getting a sixteen-year-old who’d only had his mark for three weeks and hadn’t even taken a dom class. It was the emotional equivalent of a five-year-old trying to walk a Rottweiler.

Kurt let his head fall onto his desk with a thump. When he’d fantasized about meeting his soulmate for the first time, abject terror had never been part of the equation.

“Dude! You okay?” Puck was leaning past Jenn Gibbs again to poke Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt lifted his head and saw that he had Rachel’s attention as well.

“Okay, what is up between you and Mr. Anderson? And don’t tell me nothing because you look like you’re about to pass out.”

Kurt looked from one to another, trying to think up an excuse for his distress. “Dom thoughts,” he finally muttered. Best to stick as close to the truth as possible.

Rachel patted his arm, nodding her head in solidarity. Puck gave a sympathetic groan. “I have so been there, bro. The other day in Glee club, when Brittany was sort of wrapping that mic cord around her wrist? Man, took everything I had not to . . .”

“Not helping, Noah!” Kurt snapped.

“Oh. Well, sorry dude.” Puck leaned back into his own space and Kurt tried to smile apologetically at Jenn, who was looking more and more put out. Rachel patted Kurt’s arm, drawing soothing little circles on his skin.

“It won’t be like this forever, you know. It’s just because your mark is new. Pretty soon you’ll hardly even notice it.”

“Puckerman’s had his cuff for two years and look how he acts!”

“Yes, but Noah’s a deviant sex fiend.”

“Good point,” Kurt acknowledged with a grateful smile.

Rachel smiled back. “Seriously, Kurt. After the initial adjustment you really only have those intense feelings about a lover. Or your soulmate.”

Kurt sighed. He knew Rachel meant to be helpful. It wasn’t her fault that she’d managed to say exactly the wrong thing. What he really wanted to ask her was, how the hell do you claim a sub who happens to be your history teacher? Nothing he’d ever read or heard or seen on TV covered a situation like this. None of his friends had found their soulmates yet. In fact, the Glee Club drama these days all centered on the fact that none of the dating couples seemed to be soulmates. Tina and Mike were still dating, despite the fact that they were both doms. Finn was a sub, but since he hadn’t traded his brown cuff for the black one that subs in a soulmate claim wore, everyone figured that, whatever else they may be doing, he and Rachel weren’t a fated pair. And the strange dance Santana and Brittany had been doing around each other for the past year had ended when Britt’s mark appeared, even though Santana was a dom and Brittany was a sub.

On the whole, Kurt figured no one wanted to deal with his anxiety about meeting his gorgeous, sexy, experienced soulmate three weeks after getting his mark.

Okay. The second best thing to Rachel Berry when it came to information was the school library. Kurt opened his textbook and searched out the appropriate chapter. That was it. Lunch was next and he’d spend it in the library cramming on dom/sub relations. He’d figure out what was expected of him, make a plan, and after school he’d track down his sub – oh God, his sub! - and do . . . . whatever doms were supposed to do. Meanwhile, if he wanted to pass history he needed to start concentrating on the Victorians. He was pretty sure it was illegal for doms to command their subs to do anything unethical, and preferential grading almost certainly counted as unethical.

Unfortunately for his plans to actually absorb some knowledge, Mr. – Blaine – Blaine returned after just a few more minutes. He clearly hadn’t been to the office. He had no attendance sheet, his bow tie was slightly askew, and his face had the raw, shiny look of having been freshly scrubbed. He managed to actually look at the students this time, although his eyes never strayed anywhere near Kurt.

“Um, if everyone would finish the chapter then please start on the review questions? Whatever you don’t finish you can take as homework.” With careful, controlled movements Blaine pulled out the desk chair, sat, opened a book apparently at random from those scattered over the desk, and stared at it.

Now that Kurt had a plan and wasn’t feeling like he was about to faint from surprise, he was able to sit and take in the man destiny had chosen for him. It was kind of overwhelming how beautiful Blaine was. Not just the eyes – although they were certainly a highlight. He had the most delicious mouth. Full pink lips, the top one curved in a perfect bow shape. His jaw was strong and masculine. The shirt he was wearing gave a hint of biceps under the sleeves and the shapes hidden there actually made Kurt’s mouth water. His hands were pretty too. Long fingers that kept surreptitiously touching the cuff on his right wrist as he pretended to read the book in front of him. Kurt couldn’t help imagining the letters of his own name burned into the skin under that cuff. It felt so intimate. It felt wrong to even know that his name was there, carved in Blaine’s flesh, while he sat surrounded by oblivious students. To know that Blaine was thinking about the exact same thing. New feelings were exploding through his body with Blaine’s every twitch.

Kurt stared at him, willing him to look up. But either the idea of a supernatural connection between soulmates was complete hogwash or Blaine was very good at resisting because his eyes stayed firmly on the book in front of him. He didn’t even look up when the bell finally rang. “Remember, answers to the review questions tomorrow,” he told the book as students jumped up from their seats and headed en masse out the door.

Kurt hung back a bit until most of the class had gone, wondering if he should just walk up to the desk, maybe make a little joke to break the ice. Traditionally, he knew, doms approached subs first, but Blaine must realize how clueless he was. Shouldn’t he take pity on Kurt and maybe lead the way a little?

No, Kurt decided, gathering up his things and sweeping toward the door in Rachel’s wake. Library first. He needed to figure out how to do this right. After all, you only got one claiming with your soulmate. He didn’t want to screw it up.

Blaine’s eyes stayed down as Kurt passed the desk, and only the hand rubbing nervously at his cuff gave anything away.