Kurt wasn't sure when exactly he realized that he had developed a habit of looking over his shoulder. Perhaps it had always been there, remnant of all his days of being bullied at McKinley, a defence mechanism built into his system. All he knew was that he was slowly becoming accustomed to the familiar prickle on the back of his neck and the turn of his head, eyes scanning and trying to figure out why he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

Blaine caught him more than once, placing a hand on his shoulder, breaking Kurt out of his reverie with a concerned look. He would just shake his head, putting it down to being in a school of mutants. There was always some sort of energy in the air, whether it was from their abilities or from their hormones, so Kurt did his best to ignore it.

Once a month they were brought into the city to break them out of their sheltered life. Usually they were brought to museums, always educational, letting them roam around, learning the history that was dictated by the people who despised them.

Though they weren't strictly allowed, during the time they were given free reign of the museum. Blaine took Kurt's hand, tugging him towards the doors leading out into New York City. He knew they should stay, but as long as they didn't make a scene and reveal themselves they wouldn't technically be breaking the rules.

Blaine bought him his first official New York City cup of coffee - the first of many, Kurt reminded himself - and they sat in the little hole in the wall cafe, away from the prying and judging eyes of the city goers. Not that they minded two teenage boys holding hands but Kurt was almost sure someone would figure it out. They didn't stay long, knowing they had to be back before their absence was noticed, but even so they walked slowly through the streets, swinging their hands between them.

"Blaine, look," Kurt said softly, pulling him over to the window of an antique store just around the corner from the museum. He nodded to a music box on display and Blaine watched a small smile tug at his lips. "My mother used to have one just like it. She played it for me when I couldn't sleep. It's broken now but Dad still has it." His eyes roamed the window with an air of quiet excitement, studying everything in view. "They're beautiful aren't they?"

Blaine gave his arm a tug. "Come on, let's go inside," he said, pulling him to the door but Kurt didn't move.

"We can't, Blaine," he said in a sombre voice and at his quizzical look Kurt nodded to the door. Stuck against the window from the inside was a large sign with bold red letters: NO MUTANTS. Blaine stared for a second before giving a shrug.

"It'll be fine, Kurt, what they don't know won't hurt them," he said, pulling him to the door again but Kurt didn't budge.

"Blaine..." His voice was quiet, a mixture of defeat and self-pity. Blaine bit his lip and moved to stand in front of him. He dropped Kurt's hand, raising his hands to cup his face.

"Kurt Hummel," he said softly despite the little but of authority Kurt could hear and Blaine inched closer until their noses were only a little apart. "Do not think for one second that you are not good enough for them. You are amazing, and perfect. They won't know, I promise. If I had never met you and I had just happened to walk past you on the street, I wouldn't think 'Oh, that's a mutant’; I would think 'Oh wow! Look how beautiful that boy is'. You do not scream mutant and people should never treat you as if you do."

Kurt rested their foreheads together, letting their noses bump. "You really believe that?"

"Of course I do," Blaine chuckled. His lips brushed against Kurt's briefly. "You are perfect, I promise."

Inside the store was like being inside the bedroom of a time traveller. Paintings from every art movement hung on any wall space that wasn't taken up by shelves that housed clocks, trinkets, jewellery and watches. Old and dusty model cars and little statues littered the tops of the antique dressers and tables. Ornate hair brushes, a carved stone bird bath, a metal mail box with an intricate design on the front and a silver bell with the inscription To Our Baby Emily. Kurt explored everything, tightly holding to Blaine’s hand and pointing out things that interested him, which was pretty much everything.

In the back of a shop a man in his forties was sitting behind a wooden topped counter. He nodded to them in a greeting before turning to where there was a small TV on the bench, turned slightly so it faced out into the shop. There was a news program on and a reporter talking about a fire somewhere in the city. Beside the TV was a shallow tray with velvet lining and an assortment of beautiful broaches that Kurt immediately went to study as the reporter’s voice washed over him, catching only snippets of his words. His hand moved to his pocket to take out his wallet to buy one of the broaches as the report ended and the news reporter picked up.

“Senator Arthur Smythe has announced today the new regulations that will take place should the new Mutant Registration Act be passed,” the announcer read. Kurt froze before his hand reached his wallet. He turned slowly to the TV to watch a reporter on scene outside some government building, microphone with the station logo hovering in front of her. “The Senator, who has openly said he is against mutants in our schools and workplaces, has informed the public at a press meeting outside City Hall this morning that upon registration, mutants will be required to relocate to specially designated areas set aside away from the public. Should these Act come into law, mutants will have thirty days to register or face penalties. Senator Smythe, seen here with his son, Sebastian Smythe-“ the picture cut from the reporter to a man standing behind a podium talking into a microphone with a boy not much older than Kurt behind him, no doubt his son by the resemblance “-has been campaigning for the Mutant Registration Act since his rise to office last October.”

Kurt watched as the reporter signed off, the camera still on the senator and his son. The son stood proud behind his father in matching suits. He had a handsome face and a pompous smirk as he looked out on the people who had come to listen to his father, but there was something off about him. Kurt watched him for the few seconds he was on screen, studying him, trying to pin point the abnormality. The senator finished whatever he was saying, turning to his son and pulling him forward with a hand on his shoulder. The last shot before the channel snapped back to the news studio was of father and son, arms clasped around each other as they smiled for the flashing cameras. But… was that… no! He couldn’t have just seen that?! In the last frame before it cut was-

“Kurt?”

Blaine’s soft voice was so loud in the quiet shop and when his arm landed on Kurt’s elbow, Kurt jumped like a startled deer. He had been so wrapped up in the news report he had forgotten Blaine was even there, forgotten where they even were. Blaine’s features were a mix of concern and confusion.

“Kurt,” he said again, taking a step closer to him. His eyes flicked between Kurt and the TV and back again. “It’s okay, Kurt, it’s not going to happen. It won’t. There’s no way they can allow it.”

“It’s not that, it’s not…” Kurt said breathlessly, eyes darting around the room until they landed on the man behind the counter, staring at them curiously through narrowed eyes. He swallowed, remembering the sign on the door. Not taking his eyes off the man he said in a hard voice, “Let’s go, Blaine.”

“What is it?” Blaine asked in a quiet voice once they were outside and making their way back to the museum. “What is it you couldn’t say in there?”

“The senator’s son, he seemed… off,” Kurt mumbled, staring straight. They turned a corner onto the busier street and right up ahead was their destination. “Right at the end, just before the cameras cut, I saw something.”

“What was it? What did you see?” He watched Kurt set his mouth in a hard line as they mounted the steps. When they reached the top he reached out and grabbed Kurt’s hand, turning him towards him. “Kurt,” he said in a soft voice, begging to be trusted.

“Just before the end, right before it cut…” Kurt said in a low voice, looking over Blaine’s head. He was struggling to find the right words. Blaine gave his hand a gentle and reassuring squeeze and he finally met his eyes. “He looked right at the camera at the end, and his eyes… they were different.”

Kurt bit his lip and glanced over his shoulder quickly. He couldn’t shake the awful feeling of foreboding because this really wasn’t right and it only means bad things were coming. He leaned in close so no one would over hear them.

“Blaine, it’s very obvious Sebastian Smythe supports his father’s campaign and I can’t help but feel that this is bigger than just some silly politician and it’s not a good feeling.” Blaine only stared, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Sebastian Smyth is a mutant.”

~~~~~

Kurt isn’t exactly sure why it’s such a big deal to him but something in his gut, running through his veins, is telling him that something is very very wrong.

Blaine had barely been able to open his mouth before Storm had found them on the steps, looking annoyed but relieved at the sight of them. She ushered them inside to the rest of the group with only a stern glare that faded in seconds. Blaine kept his eyes trained on Kurt, waiting for him to turn around and explain everything. He didn't, not with all the other students around. Kurt knew something was wrong but damned if he knew what exactly it was.

He was silent next to Blaine on the bus ride back to the school, sitting straight backed as a pencil and his shoulders tense. He didn't take Blaine's hand, only picking at loose treads on the seat in front of him and staring absently into space as he did so. It worried Blaine to no end, seeing his pale face, his wide eyes and the whirring clogs of his brain work behind them.

They skipped dinner, their friends giving then concerned looks but Kurt ignored them - or perhaps didn't notice them as Blaine suspected - and Blaine waved them off. Silently, he walked beside Kurt to their room each step seeing the expression in face change into more fear.

"Kurt," Blaine said in a quiet voice once they were in their room. It was the first time he had spoken since Kurt had shook his head at him in the foyer of the museum. He turned slowly to look at Blaine and in an instant Blaine was across the room to him, wrapping his arms around him.

"Hey, Kurt, it's okay, it's going to be fine," he whispered in a rushed voice, rubbing soothing circles on his back. He hadn't realized how scared he really was until he was in Blaine's arms and it must have shown on his face once they were alone. He was shaking ever so slightly under Blaine's hands as he placed feverish kisses to Kurt's hair. After his body relaxed into Blaine's chest a little he pulled his head back to look at Kurt. "Tell me," he pleaded in a soft voice that was so filled with care and concern that Kurt couldn't help but press his lips briefly to Blaine's.

"He's wrong," Kurt says in a small voice, winding his arms around Blaine's waist and pressing his cheek to his chest. "He's wrong, Blaine. Sebastian just feels... Wrong. How can any mutant support that, even if it is their father's campaign?"

"Maybe he was acting?" Blaine offered, rocking him gently in tiny movements.

"No one can lie like that, not even on camera," Kurt whispered. "His eyes were so trusting of his father; he really believed what his father was saying."

Silence hung around them, heavy on their shoulders as Blaine once more resumed his soothing circles on Kurt's back. His voice, suddenly a little hoarse, cut through the quiet of their room. "How do you know he was a mutant?"

"His eyes, they changed," Kurt said after a pause so long Blaine hadn't expected him to answer. His voice was muffled from where his face was buried into Blaine's t-shirt. "They were blue, then green, then brown. The change was so subtle that you couldn't notice unless you were looking out for it but just at the end they flashed for a second, a bright red. I don't know what exactly he can do, but I don't think it's anything good."

Neither said anything after that, just stood wrapped around each other. He needed Blaine here, someone to help make him safe. His lips found Blaine's and they kissed slow and long. He so easily found himself lost in the feel of Blaine and all too soon he registered the heat building up in him. Blaine's tongue flicked out to lick at his lips and Kurt didn't want to pull away regardless of his quickly heating hands. He just wanted Blaine, only Blaine, as their tongues slid together.

"Hey, Kurt! Blaine! I got you guys some food-" Nick swung the door open and froze when he saw them. They tore their lips from each other, keeping their arms in place. Kurt felt his cheeks heat up and buried his face his Blaine's shirt. "Oh shit! Sorry! I'll just... Just-Uh."

He peaked out from the fabric of Blaine's shirt to see Nick, standing in the doorway looking very awkward with a tray of food in his hands. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, cheeks turning a little pink until suddenly Nick melted away entirely.

Kurt straightened slightly in shock and if it wasn't for the floating tray in the doorway he would have thought he had disappeared entirely.

"Sorry again," Nick's disembodied voice said. The tray began to move towards them, bouncing slightly in the air, and it dropped onto the closest bed - Andy's - and the voice added, "I'll just leave this here and um... Go. So, uh, bye."

Kurt watched the empty space as the door was pulled shut. He pressed his burning face into the crook of Blaine's neck, only to feel him shaking with laughter underneath him.

"What?" Kurt asked, narrowing his eyes at him as he pulled back to look at him. Blaine just grinned and pecked his lips.

"Payback," he explained. "Last year I walked in on him and Katie - you know the cat girl? - and it was a little awkward for a while. He wouldn't let me live down my embarrassment for month." He sighed and his smile turned from a smirk to something gentler as he looked at Kurt. "It's going to be okay, Kurt, I promise."

He made to kiss him again but Kurt pulled back, shaking his head. "We can't right now," he told Blaine as his hands flexed. Blaine's brow furrowed but he caught sight of the movement of Kurt's hands and he seemed amuse more than anything else. He let go of Kurt with a smile and turned to the tray of food, tossing an apple over his shoulder for Kurt to catch.

"You really think it'll be okay?" he asked when Blaine had sat down on his bed, turning the fruit over and over in his hands. He looked up at Kurt and then reached out to pull him down beside him.

"I promise, Kurt, I will never let anything happen to you," he hummed, letting Kurt curl against his side. Kurt took a deep breath and tried to push it from his mind. No matter what happened he would be safe here. He knew that.

Or at least he hoped that.