“You have to be kidding me.”

“Sadly, no, it's all true. Too, too true.”

“I don't believe it!”

Kurt tried to hand the next clean plate to Blaine, but Blaine was still holding the last one, staring at Kurt like he'd grown an extra nose. A purple one. With spots. “Now you know my deepest, darkest secret,” he said as he reached around to put the plate on the shelf himself. “The shameful nadir of my career as a dominant.”

Blaine just stood, gaping. “I don't . . . I didn't even know that was a thing!”

“I'm pretty sure that's a thing for everything.” He maneuvered around Blaine's body, adding another plate to the stack in the cupboard.

“But how did you even . . .?”

Kurt shrugged. “I don't know, Blaine. I wasn't exactly thinking clearly. I was scared to death, to be perfectly honest. Desperate times called for desperate measures.” He lifted the last clean plate out of Blaine's nerveless hands, put it away, and closed the cabinet door. “I can't believe I never told you about it.”

“So when you . . .”

“It was in my bag. The entire time.” He planted a quick kiss on Blaine's cheek and beelined for the couch; he'd been looking forward to tonight's episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills all day.

From behind him Blaine's voice floated, still faint with disbelief. “Domming for Dummies?!”