Blaine's first full week with Kurt, working for him and living with him, is like a whirlwind and he can't remember it ever getting to Sunday.

He's contemplating this, eyes still crusted with the leftovers of sleep whilst lying in his bed, his new four poster bed with a mattress that is obscenely perfect, in his new room, a room that's too big for him, and Jes who is currently sprawled lengthways alongside of him lightly purring as he snoozes, over the softest sheets that Blaine has ever felt.

Jes has been given his very own plush kitty bed, with a blue padded mattress and matching blankets rimmed with gold thread, but because it's his first week in his new home Blaine is allowing him to adjust to the new environment and sleep up top with him, though he knows, that even in weeks to come, the cat would not have moved, and Blaine probably won't argue.

There's a scratching post and small water dish to the corner of Blaine's room and because Jes is house trained there's even a covered up litter box in Blaine's bathroom, how sweet.  

The room is painted white with light wooden accents and furnishings. The drapes and the bed spread and the large rug draped across the floor boards are all a mixture of satin and suede, silky smooth and rich Navy in colour. It's all very modern and very classy, simple and plain yet with enough detail to boast about. There is a large antique dresser and plenty more floor space for Blaine to fill with whatever he likes, there is a flat screen hanging off of the wall opposite the bed and a storage unit where his Xbox has sat untouched. He's filled only a small section of the walk in closet with his clothes and shoes and accessories and there's a gorgeous blue and slate tiled en-suite bathroom more than big enough for just him.

A set of patio doors on the far wall opens out onto Blaine's own private balcony, down and out, over looking the gardens, and Blaine can envisage rolling out of bed on an early summer's morning, stretching under the heady rays of the sunrise.

Kurt's condo is situated on Park Avenue, of course, overlooking the beautiful scenery of Central Park and with the bright lights of Broadway not too far away in the distance. It isn't as big as it certainly could have been, but more than big enough, gloriously so and beautiful. It's perfect.

It boasts a private garage and elevator shaft, a doorman and a security guard, a main bathroom as well as the en-suites attached to the three bedrooms. The whole house is mostly painted and decorated similarly, with creams and whites and neutral shades with each room having a different accessory of colour and theme. It screams chic, and wonderfully understated, it screams Kurt.

The living area is a vast open space with wide black fabric comfy as sin couches with white and cream decorative throws and pillows, pointed at an entertainment complex, and there's a grand looking fire place on the back wall. The whole room is a clean and fairly clutter free space save for a large landscape of the Hudson River hanging above the flat screen and a fancy side table and lamp off to the side.

It backs onto a large open plan swanky, state of the art silver kitchen, accessorised with red tiles and appliances, with a bar set up in between the two areas stocked full of all liquor imaginable. The kitchen door opens to a small hallway which leads to the guest bathroom and back out to the main hall, there's a separate dining room next door too, with plum paper covered walls and a cherry oak dining set, though eating at the breakfast counter in the kitchen just seems to be the given thing to do.

The dining room is the only room in the house with its own distinct colour theme and furnishings, there's something intimate and almost private about it, giving off a dark and husky ambience. 

There is also a small study with a range of half empty bookcases, a randomly placed sewing table and a wide open empty floor space. There's a private gym downstairs by the parking garage and the bedrooms are situated up a few steps in a rounded hallway just off of the main entrance hall by the elevator.

Blaine hasn't seen the other bedrooms except for his own, there is a door a few feet downwards from his and then a corridor leading off to the side which he presumes leads to Kurt's bedroom, out of the way.

Kurt's office is the next door down after the living room out in the entrance hall, it's not too big, not too small, with a large glass desk and black polished furniture and pale grey walls. Blaine even has his own similarly decorated small work space just next door, though he's rarely spent anytime in it so far. Kurt has been keeping him close, training him up.

Kurt had sent a removal van and a private car for Blaine on the day that he moved in, which was a Monday exactly one week after his interview, he was able to quickly find a tenant for his home who had agreed to a Six month lease at first and was able to move in straight away.

Blaine didn't have that much to bring with him, nothing that would already be waiting for him, he'd packed boxes of clothes and typical bedroom stuff, a container of Jes's stuff, his books and some old music records and sheets, his Xbox and games, laptop, guitar and small keyboard, just the usual. He'd sent his couch and TV to a storage unit downtown and left most of his kitchen appliances for his tenant to use.

After moving in and getting settled Kurt had allowed Blaine a day of adjusting, familiarizing with his surroundings so to speak, and Jes of course who didn't come out from his carry case for the first Four hours.

Blaine had hardly seen Kurt at all that day actually and as far he was aware he was still in the house, he hadn't gone out. Blaine began to quickly realise that Kurt was right in what he had said during his interview, they wouldn't be on top of each other here, and Blaine couldn't tell if that made him feel better or slightly disorientated.

House rules were pretty easy and laid back, Blaine could come and go, and do as he pleased, so long as he wasn't working, of course. He had access to all rooms of the condo except for Kurt's bedroom and was told to make himself at home everywhere else, as instructed by the sheet of paper he'd found on his new bed, not spoken from Kurt's own tongue in person.

That night Blaine had wandered into the kitchen with Jes hot on his heels a little unsurely, to find Kurt dressed in gray slacks and a white long sleeve shirt, rolled up to his elbows, slim line invisible rimmed glasses sat on the tip of his nose, flipping a wok this way and that in his wrist over the wide open stove.

Jes cautiously made his way over to his new set of glamorous food dishes which Kurt had provided for him, and Kurt knelt down on his honkers, brushing a finger up the cat's bushy tail as it rose to meet the touch.

They ate stir fry and shared a bottle of wine as they made basic if just a little awkward small talk, sitting on stools side by side at the island, mostly about the cat that was sitting on the floor below and between them peering up at Kurt curiously with big aqua eyes.

“Jes?”

“I found him on my doorstep when he was this tiny little ball of fluff, he kept coming back day after day and he would do this kind of weird dance up on his back legs… reminded me of a Jester..”

“Oh, ha. I uh- I always wanted a cat.”

Their eyes had met properly and fully for the first time that day, and the smiles hidden within were evident even if a little bashful.

Blaine realised then that he loved the sound of Kurt's voice, the way it would drop and rise and lower, he loved the way his lips and tongue curled around each word, loved his dulcet tones, his hint of sarcasm and humour and the way he sometimes seemed so disinterested when talking, like was just over it and everybody.

Blaine had seemed to have forgotten the ability to ask questions and use his conversational skills, Blaine was usually so inquisitive, so eager to learn and just know, but right then he just wanted to listen.

Kurt emptied their dishes into the sink and left the room as he husked out a quiet, “I'll see you in my office tomorrow at Eight sharp… goodnight.” If Blaine's eyes lingered more than they should have, well there was nobody there to judge was there, and Jes certainly wasn't going to do anything about it.  

The first Five days of his new job seemed to fly by as well as start off a little slow, Kurt wanted Blaine to get used to the office work first, the simple stuff, the basics of a generic PA, or so he thought, before venturing out into public domain. And Blaine had no problem with that.

Blaine was waiting for Kurt to show him old work and guidelines, or say things like ‘my old PA used to…' but he never did, Blaine was starting to realise that this was just as new to Kurt as it was to him, and Blaine had no problem with that also.

Blaine was introduced properly to Sam his personal driver, the same driver who helped him on moving day. Sam seemed to be of a similar age, with a slightly off southern accent and said to have spent his teenage years growing up in Ohio too. He had a good head of blonde hair for a guy and a quiet but polite and likeable personality, and Blaine thought that he could make a friend in Sam someday, if nobody else.

Sam spent a morning taking Blaine around the nearby area, giving a hearty tour and pointing out Kurt's favourite coffee stores and delis, pastry bars, take outs and restaurants, just for future reference. Blaine appreciated that, and Sam seemed humble.

Kurt had said that he had his own personal car and driver who Blaine was yet to meet but for now seemed happy enough sharing with Blaine and Sam when showing Blaine all of the relevant business offices and buildings around the city that he will have to make himself known with.

The silences in the back of the blacked out Lexus were actually strangely calming and not too awkward during the short drives through the city.

The privacy partition between the back of the car and Sam upfront meant that they were able to speak privately, if ever they needed to for whatever reason, but also had a panel of interactive buttons which connected to the front of the car.

Blaine could see the quirk in Kurt's lips when Blaine flicked from radio station to radio station using his control panel until he found an adequate choice which was playing some old show tunes.

Kurt gave Blaine a new cell phone to use during work hours, and when he looked into his phonebook he noticed the entries, Kurt and Kurt P. “The first one is for work, of course, we're speed dialled to each other anyway and the second is my private number, only to be used in emergencies, you know just in case,” He was told and Blaine asked no further questions, but reeled inside at the thought, the offer of trust.

Each day had started off with Blaine hunched over Kurt's desk whilst he was taught something new, Blaine would jot things down on a note pad, even though Kurt had gave him a tablet and a Netbook with sufficient applications to use for such use. Blaine had voiced how he preferred his own writing, his own way, which earned him a pretty impressive eye roll, which may have made most want to curl in on themselves, but left Blaine however feeling oddly proud and smug whilst trying to hide his smirk. 

Kurt went into a little bit of depth more each day about his usual day to day work and routine unless something different was scheduled to take place, like travelling or an event of some sort. He'd made sure not to off load too much too soon and Blaine knew that he was holding some things back for now. Blaine would ask questions soon, but not yet.

Kurt had made sure that Blaine had the appropriate travelling documents and his passport was in date and had even set up a generous health and insurance plan for him.

They would have working lunches and dinners together, sometimes at home ordered in or cooked by one or both, which Blaine loved. There was something calm and oddly beautiful about Kurt when he was in his kitchen, the way his body carried him around and his hands and fingers worked with practised precision, it was so insightful and enchanting to watch.

Sometimes they ate and drank at Kurt's favourite restaurant and bars, and Blaine loved that too, every moment of it.

It was during these times, in public places that Blaine noticed a different side to Kurt, a side that he saw a glimpse of during his interview, but when back at the condo Kurt was more reserved in all aspects off his manner and personality.

Kurt knows exactly what he wants, he takes control swiftly and leaves no room for second guessing, compromise or protest.

When ordering in a restaurant or bar, his tone is direct, clipped and determined, he is polite yes and not intentionally mean at all, but there is something there lying beyond the surface.

And Blaine just knows that there is also another side to that tongue, and the way that it curls around some words beautifully, making Blaine feel weak at the knees at times, could snap in a flash like lightening and form the most chest clenching and maybe irrevocable sounds.     

Even after such a short time of knowing each other and even with Kurt's strange icy yet warming exterior, Blaine was becoming pleasantly used to the way their eyes would catch. The way comfort and familiarity was starting to show inch by inch between them. Even though sometimes not a lot would or could be said between them verbally, the headiness and pleasantly thickness of the silences between their quick glances, said enough.

Although remaining polite and professional about it throughout, Blaine loved trying to dig in a tiny little bit with each new opportunity, to make a dent into Kurt's closed off attitude and personality, to understand him.   

Blaine had even been taken to visit Kurt's tailor, “Mr Hummel likes his staff to look presentable.” Sam had mumbled with a slightly awkward looking shift in his chauffeur's jacket, into Blaine's ear whilst he was prodded and pulled at with measuring tape, swatches of fabric and pins.

On one rare quiet afternoon, a few days in, when Kurt hadn't been around much and Blaine was supposed to be ‘getting to grips' with things in his little side-office, he looked up from the spread sheet on his computer screen, pulled his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes. He stretched upwards and stood up making his way towards the cabinets and cupboards which the lined the walls of the small room. He flicked open some doors half heartedly, with more boredom than curiosity and found nothing interesting but a stack of magazines, one of which lying right on the top caught Blaine's attention straight away.

There on the glossy cover was Kurt's handsome yet brooding face, a little chubbier around the edges than now and Blaine recognised instantly that he looked like he could have been about Ten years younger, even though Blaine still doesn't know Kurt's age.

His hair was a little longer and wasn't as styled and perfected as it is now, but his eyes were still the same, piercing and beautiful. He wore a green floral shirt tucked under a vest and a pair of skinny jeans with knee high boots as he poses up against a building, and the header that was printed in bold yellow above his head read the words, America's Youngest Entrepreneur of the year.

Blaine read the article, skimming through the facts and the details and remembered hearing about Kurt now, remembered the story. Kurt a McKinley High school graduate born in Lima, Ohio, a boy who could never really fit in, who struggled, who was different in his own right but no less important.

The article went onto explain that Kurt would help his dad out in his tyre shop during free time and on weekends starting from as young as Thirteen, and after years of research and development Kurt had created and mass produced his very own unique brand of work gloves and coveralls.

The work gear and range, which had been simply named, KEH Motor Wear, had been made from a hazard free material, easily washable and extremely durable and sustainable, with a breathable fabric for those long hot summers, and made available in a variety of colours and seasonal options. It had been quickly voted one of the best products of the year and garages, workshops and motor-stores all over the state were requesting to stock and sell it. It turns out that grease monkeys and old ‘motor heads' actually were bothered about how they dressed, no matter the protest.

Blaine actually remembers some of his father's friends talking about the most comfortable sturdy set of gloves for oil and tyre changing, now that he thinks about it.  

The article didn't really go into much detail about anything else, not about his school or home or personal life, though this was something that Blaine was truly interested to getting to learn and know too, but that could wait. So Blaine put the magazine back where he had found it, closed the cupboard and returned to his desk.

He recalled looking at the article online during one of his lunch breaks back in Senior year of high school, and given Kurt had graduated high school when the article was written, that made Kurt currently Twenty Seven years old, roughly a year older than himself.

Upon the new discovery, Blaine took to the ever mighty Google and sure enough Kurt Hummel was there but only in short and in some invaluable snippets. Blaine started to remember and recognise Kurt's young face and his newer products and campaigns from other things over the years. Ad's he'd walked past in the street, short infomercials which he'd unknowingly skipped over, columns in newspapers and so forth.    

Blaine wouldn't comment about his new discovery, maybe Kurt assumed that he may already know, but Blaine would wait, wait for Kurt to talk about it in his own time, in his own way. Blaine felt taken aback by the whole thing, so awe-struck and in a way a little guilty that he wasn't aware just how powerful Kurt actually was although he did give off that vibe about him anyway.

Essentially Blaine was working for a sort of celebrity figure and though starting to feel a little over whelmed, Blaine couldn't wait to really get started and get his hands dirty, to give this job all that he had, to give Kurt all that he had.

Now Blaine stretches under the covers, toes curling, he pushes his arms up and over his head, lacing his fingers together and bending up and outwards, and he's grinning, broadly and to nothing and nobody. The sun slithers in from the window where'd he cracked the drapes slightly and pulled the door ajar when he'd gotten up to use the toilet earlier that morning, and the warmth spreads over his chest and face and the accompanying soft gust of late morning breeze is just right. Blaine feels more relaxed and strangely happy than he has in months.

Jester whines with a hint of threatening undertones as he's shifted as Blaine's body and legs wriggle happily, he leans over to grab his phone, checking the time and any messages or notifications. He throws the phone down to the mattress after a quick scroll careful of Jes and flops over on to his belly with a contented sigh, its Ten-Twenty One on a sunny Sunday morning and he has the whole day ahead to do with as he wishes. 

Oddly he is a little disappointed that he doesn't have work today, he's spent so long alone in the confines of his own apartment with only Jester to whine at him as any form of conversation, that he's loved the past Five days of work, as busy at his been, with early starts and late nights, of learning and of course being with Kurt.

Yes he is also oddly disappointed that he won't be spending time with Kurt today either, although he may possibly bump into him at some point, he doesn't know what Kurt's schedule is on his days off, or if the man, even has any.

There is still so much he has to learn about Kurt, so much he wants to learn, wants to know.

Like what his favourite song is, his favourite dessert, what he absolutely loves to do when not having to work at all, if he will succumb to that.

Blaine wants to watch him style his hair in the morning, wants to know what that amazing smelling cologne is that he uses, Blaine wants to see what Kurt looks like last thing at night just before sleeps takes him with his cheek pressed into his pillow.

Ok so maybe Blaine is developing a not so great crush on his boss, but its fine, kind of. It's controllable, and Blaine can think and wonder and want to know all that he wants in the privacy of these four walls and it never has to go any further.

Speaking of, Blaine slowly moves a hand between himself and the mattress and pulls himself forward onto his knees. He pushes his ass up and out causing Jes to slide over and scatter off of the bed to the floor with a hiss and patter over to his scratching post. Blaine groans into the pillow as he takes hold of himself tightly, eyes squeezed shut, the muscles in his thighs and arms rippling with each lazy grind and stroke.

A set of knuckles wrap against the bedroom door loudly, Blaine bites his lip to keep the squeak from rising up his throat and he scrambles up and over onto his back, adjusting the covers over his chest, trying to act as normal as one would on a Sunday morning in bed. He shifts so that this hips are leaning towards the side and not so obvious as to what's going on underneath. Jesus.

The knocking pattern sounds again, a littler louder, a little longer. Kurt has never came to seek him out from his bedroom before, he doesn't know why he would do it now, on his day off, not that Blaine would mind but a little warning would be helpful. 

“Uh, h-hello, yes?”

The door creaks open slightly and Blaine slinks under the covers until they're bumping up to his chin, like a kid waiting for the boogie man to show up in the dark. A thin tanned hand snakes around the door jamb and pushes it open slowly, a plastic laundry basket is pushed through on the floor next followed by a clip clopping of heels.

“Oh and a good morning it is-” The lady standing in his doorway staring at him with wide smiling eyes and a positively devilish grin, is tall and slender with long black hair pulled back into messy do atop her head. She's beautiful, with big dark eyes, chiselled features and flawless skin, obviously mixed race and she's holding a box of cleaning products and a rag tucked into the waistline of her low cut, light washed skinny jeans. She's wearing a black cut off t-shirt and looks all too comfortable in a pair of black wedged heels. She doesn't look like she's dressed appropriately to do the job Blaine assumes that she's here to do.

The woman steps into the room and pulls the door closed behind her, Blaine can only lie still, in shock with his fingers clutched around the covers over his bare body.

“So I'm guessing Lady Hummel didn't tell you that Sunday is cleaning day huh?” She nudges the laundry basket out of her way with her shoe and pulls the cleaning rag from her jeans and waves it in the air playfully.

Blaine tries to sit up a little, “Oh I um, no, he um, what-lady who?” She steps up closer to the bed.

“Oh don't worry about that, that's a nickname he earned back in high school, he'll never get away from it-” She grins flawlessly and holds a hand out towards him, wriggling her fingers. “I'm Santana, you must be Blaine.”

Blaine tries to smile and glances down at himself, “Oh and don't worry about that either,” she drawls out completely unfazed and uncaring of the circumstances that they are in. “I'm gay, Hummel's gay and you are too so I've heard, so that's great for us all huh.” Santana starts to walk away, going back to her box and pulling an iPod and twine of ear buds out from her pocket.

Blaine blinks at her bold and brass tone, so open, so refreshingly honest and then his mind backtracks and he shivers deliciously at the sound of Kurt's name. He'd thought he was gay, he'd read that he was on his Wikipedia page and stuff, but it's nice to actually have it confirmed out loud for some bizarre reason. Blaine couldn't find any information at all on Kurt's romantic life and that was going to be a future task he'd set himself.

“Um, ok.” Blaine genuinely doesn't know what to say. Thirty seconds ago he was hard in his hand and now he's soft, vulnerably naked and making small talk with his supposed new house keeper. Santana is looking at him like she's making some sort of conclusion in her head, a slow smile starts to spread as she tips her head side to side as if weighing him up, she hmm's to herself like she's happy with what she's come up with in her head and continues unwinding her ear buds. Blaine can just hear her soft mutter of, “Yeah I see it.” 

Santana twists back around as she scrolls through a playlist, “Ok so here's the deal, I come round here on Sunday's around Nine-ish, I spend most of the day here half working and half seeing what I can get my hands on, either way baby gay pays me the big bucks-”

Jester wanders over and loops through Santana's legs, she bends down and scratches between his ears, “so you can either stay here, like that,” She nods her head suggestively towards Blaine, “or you can go chase Lady H's ass around out there.”

Blaine feels an incredulous giggle crawl up his throat, he doesn't think he's met anybody like this woman before, and also thinks that he likes her, a lot.

Santana stands up and catches his expression. “Don't sweat it, he's used to it, this is just how I talk, we're McKinley High survivors you see, Trouty Mouth too-”

“Trouty Mouth?”

“Sam, your driver-”

Blaine slaps a hand over his face, flustered and utterly humoured now, “oh gosh, ok, yes, ok just give me a moment to uh get dressed and I'll be out of your way.”

Santana grins, placing a hand over her eyes and faces the wall. “Not like I care about what I see anyway.” She mutters whilst putting her ear buds in and pocketing her iPod.

Blaine slips out of bed and into his closet, he thoughtlessly and quickly pulls on a pair of black sweat pants and grabs an old red t-shirt from a drawer whilst turning and padding out and over barefoot to the door, not really caring that he's half naked still, just that he's not completely naked in front of a woman that he's just met. He opens the door and turns to Santana, “Is Jes ok in here?”  

Santana is paying him no attention at all, bopping along to whatever tune is playing loudly into her eardrums and stripping off his sheets, which makes him cringe a little and thank all that is wholly that he didn't get to finish his earlier job.

Jester blinks at him from his perch up on the dresser as his tail swishes whenever Santana bops past, so Blaine ducks out of the room alone, a little bewildered and too flustered to think rationally as he jogs down the stairs.

Coffee, he needs coffee right now.