The Friday night drive up to Ann Arbor for the weekend was filled with laughter and music, a welcome change from the long drag of the last fortnight. They slept on Jo’s old fold-out sofa, tangled up in each other under countless blankets guarding them from the cold, completely at peace in their cocoon.

The world was different outside of Ohio. Nobody stared at the two boys holding hands as they walked down the street, ducking to steal quick kisses. Nobody noticed them smiling as they wandered back to Jo’s apartment after a late lunch in town on Saturday afternoon.

Cooper was already well on the way to recovery, bright and grinning and giving back as good as he got with every playful jab Jo threw his way. Kurt couldn’t help but feel strangely proud that he’d brought the two of them together.

But it was Blaine’s recovery he was worried about.

He awoke in their blanket cocoon on Sunday morning to the sounds of Jo tinkering in the open kitchen; the toaster popping, the kettle whistling, the scrape of a knife dragging over toast. With a gentle squeeze of Blaine’s waist and a kiss to his bare shoulder, Kurt moved his legs back to slip carefully out of bed, trying not to hiss at the sudden rush of cold air.

He padded over the tiled floor to the kitchenette, drawing out a seat as Jo poured them both coffee.

Even in his state of half-awake, his absent thoughts found their way back to the same recurring concern that had been lurking in his mind for the last two weeks. He glanced over to the sofa.

Blaine had seemed to slowly drown inside himself day after day when Cooper left. He’d ventured back to the pool each night after school, when he could avoid the swim team, swimming laps over and over until dark. Kurt would take his homework along and finish it while he waited, or sometimes just watch the long, powerful lines of Blaine’s back and arms as he moved effortlessly through the water.

Each night he took him home again, washed the chlorine from his body and replaced it with his hands, his lips, his promises. He’d lay Blaine out on their bed and simply touch him, hold him, show him he was loved.

“Time heals,” Jo told him suddenly, jolting him out of his reverie.

It was just the two of them hovering sleepily over her breakfast table. Kurt wondered if all Doms were early risers, content to relax in the morning hours while their Subs slept in, safe and protected.

He nodded drowsily, drawing a deep breath of his coffee steam and yawning.

“He’s so much stronger for seeing Cooper again,” he admitted quietly. “But I’m worried about when we leave tonight.”

“He’ll be fine,” she said around a mouthful of toast, waving a hand at him. “They’re still pulling apart, but seeing each other has solidified it. Made it easier. They both know now, that they still have each other. They’re still here, when they need each other, they’re just - not alone anymore.”

His eyes dipped thoughtfully, trailing over the slope of a smeared butter knife. “He’s been so lost the last two weeks.”

“Cooper’s been hobbling around like a kicked puppy too. He didn’t talk for the first few days, when it really sank in. But we got his voice back. And then his smile.”

Kurt shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

She reached out and rested her hand on his, patting it gently. “I used to do this for a living, Lizzy. I know the right buttons to push when a Sub introverts, okay? Don’t feel bad.”

“I should have been better, for him,” Kurt said softly, tilting his chin towards the couch where Blaine still slept, just a lump of a body under an array of patchwork blankets.

“You’ve only been together for a couple of months,” she added. “Trust me, it takes years.”

“Less than a month,” Kurt corrected her, sipping his coffee.

She blinked at him in surprise. “Less than a month?”

“It’ll be a month next week, since I claimed him,” he clarified, shaking his head in quiet disbelief. “It feels like so much longer. I … can’t remember what it felt like, before I had him.”

“Lizzy, if it’s only been a month then,” she tilted her head, “how are you so…”

“What?” he asked.

“Attuned,” she finished. “At this point you should still be worrying if he’s getting enough of your affection, he should still be panicking that he’s not giving enough of himself. It’s all a part of the early claim at your age.”

Kurt shrugged, and his mouth drew up into a fond smile as he glanced over to the sofa. “We never had that.”

She quirked an eyebrow, leaning on her elbow on the table.

“What?” he asked again, mildly irritated this time. “Are we so different?”

“It’s not a bad thing,” she said soothingly.

“We feel each other,” Kurt continued defensively. “I know I’m giving him what he needs, I can … feel it. I can feel it when he’s hurt, or when he needs more of me. When he needs to be left in peace. I’ve always been able to, even before.”

She paused mid-sip, eyeing him.

He noticed her hesitation. “You too? Dad was like that.”

She swallowed her coffee, eyes still narrowed as she watched him. “Like what?”

“I told him I could feel Blaine before the claim,” Kurt clarified, “and he was… shocked. But he didn’t say why.”

She seemed to consider for a long time, returning her mug to the table and spinning it with long, thin fingers. Her eyes lingered on the glossy pink of her nail polish as her fingertips ghosted over the porcelain, and she wet her lips before she spoke.

“So, before you claimed Blaine,” she began carefully, looking up. “You could feel his needs, his emotions. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes,” Kurt confirmed. “Not as strongly as I do now, but … I did. Why? Why is that important? We were best friends. We spent all our time together, I thought it was natural.”

“No,” she said. “No, you … shouldn’t be able to feel someone you haven’t claimed yet.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

She pressed her lips into a thin line and shrugged.

“But … I did,” he said softly as he sank back in his seat, features drawn tight in confusion.

“Breakfast?”

He almost jumped out of his chair at the sound of Cooper’s voice. The older Anderson wandered out from his bedroom in shuffling steps, pawing at his own sleep-mussed hair and blinking blearily at them.

“Is served, monkey. Dish your own,” Jo instructed, smiling as she lifted her coffee to her mouth.

“Slave driver,” Cooper mumbled, nudging her chair with a solid hip-bump as he moved past.

The loud grind of wood on tile had Blaine startling awake on the sofa, head twisting from side to side as he peered around the room from under his blankets. “Hrrmph?”

“Breakfast, Squirt,” Cooper called.

As the brothers stumbled around the kitchen, gathering toast and Pop-Tarts, Kurt sat back and reeled in silence. His eyes trailed over to the window, out of focus, as Jo’s words played over again in his head.

What if I made it all up? He swallowed against the bitter taste at the back of his throat. What if I made him do this?

His mind wandered back to the night on the football field; the sound of Blaine’s voice, scared but still so strong, the jeering of the jocks, the look on Carter’s face when he thought he had them both right where he wanted them.

Blaine needed him. He knew it, down to his core, he knew Blaine had needed him in that moment.

But that’s not possible.

The drive back to Lima was long and quiet, and strangely content. Blaine took the wheel while Kurt curled up in the passenger seat, tired and silent as the roads drifted by and the music played on softly. He let his head roll against the seat every once in a while, reaching out a hand to brush through Blaine’s curls, or stroke at the back of his neck, the way he always used to.

You wanted to make this work as friends.

They carried their bags from the car when they got home, saying a quick hello-goodnight to Burt and Carole before they ambled exhaustedly up the stairs for evening showers and skincare routines. By the time Kurt settled on his side of the bed, Blaine had come back from the bathroom, warm and damp and smelling like shampoo, and was flicking off the lamps and drawing the curtains.

“Come here,” Kurt commanded firmly.

Surprised, Blaine moved to the bedside, pulling back the covers and sliding in beside him.

“No,” Kurt said with a shaky voice. “On top of me, come here.”

Blaine complied without a word, sliding a leg over his Dom’s body and settling down on his chest. He let out a soft, contented sound at the contact, but Kurt’s hands stopped him from resting his head, guiding his chin up instead.

Kurt stared at him, searching the lights of his eyes in the dark.

“Tell me,” Kurt whispered.

“Tell you what?” Blaine asked, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Tell me the truth,” he commanded, voice shaking. “Deep down, is this - am I - what you really want, or did I make you do this?”

“Kurt,” Blaine said, almost scoldingly. “You’re all I ever wanted. Of course you are. What is this about? What’s wrong?”

“Please tell me I didn’t make it up,” Kurt begged.

“You didn’t,” Blaine said immediately, pressing his cheek into Kurt’s palm. “Kurt, this is me. You know I wanted to be yours before I even… before we’d even met. We’ve been here before. I knew. Where did this come from?”

“I just got scared,” Kurt confessed in a whisper. “I just got scared that I made it up, and I made you- and… oh god, is this what your doubt feels like?”

Blaine nodded, closing his eyes and smiling gently as he let his jaw rest in Kurt’s warm hands. “Awful, isn’t it?”

Kurt chuckled wetly. “It’s terrible. It hurts.”

“It does,” Blaine confirmed, pushing Kurt’s hands away and sinking down. “But you need to let it go. Because I wanted to be yours … so badly,” he said, tracing fingers over Kurt’s collarbone, “that I knew I would risk everything just for the smallest chance that I could be.”

Kurt let go of the breath he’d been holding, letting his eyes fall shut. This is what Jo meant, he realised. We still have our panic, our fears, just like any claim our age. We’re normal.

He shifted, relaxing slowly at the revelation and dragging his hands possessively over Blaine’s back.

Arching at the contact, Blaine slid both arms over Kurt’s shoulders and curled them around his head, brushing fingertips through his hair. After a moment, he dipped his head down meekly.

“Don’t give me any more commands tonight?” he requested.

It wasn’t a power play, or an instruction, just a simple plea made all the more beautiful by the imploring look on his face.

Shivering, Kurt nodded quickly.

At the permission, Blaine lowered himself just enough to slide their lips together, slow and sweet and wet, trailing kisses down Kurt’s jaw to his throat.

Kurt hummed softly as Blaine sucked on his pulse, licking at it before he moved back up and pressed their mouths together again, gently rocking his body up in a slow rhythm.

The tension seeped from Kurt’s muscles under the attention of Blaine’s mouth, and he spread his legs absently to accommodate the shift of Blaine’s hips while he moved down again. Firm, warm hands pushed up the fabric of his tank top, but Kurt barely felt it, head rolling on the pillow as he left himself to the worship of his Sub.

He could feel the transfer of weight as Blaine settled on his chest; a warm, flushed cheek pressing against his pale skin, hands sliding over his sides and pushing beneath him, wrapping around him, holding him tight. His skin tingled as Blaine’s mouth fluttered over it in tiny, quick staccato kisses before he settled on his breastbone, stopping to suck a long, gentle kiss over one spot, tongue sweeping wetly under the drag of his lips.

Kurt let out a breathy, helpless sound, head swimming in and out of consciousness as Blaine held on to him and kissed him to sleep.

He woke before the alarm the next morning, blinking at the ceiling and drawing a long, deep breath. He smiled when he registered the weight on his chest; Blaine was still wrapped around his body, settled between his legs and sleeping peacefully. Stray curls stuck to his forehead, and his smooth, tan shoulders rose and fell gently. Kurt couldn’t keep his hands from brushing over them, revelling in the warmth of his skin and the dips of his muscles.

Blaine only stirred long enough to nuzzle against his chest, squeezing a little tighter and mumbling something incoherently.

“We have school,” Kurt said, distracted and playing with his curls, letting them slip between his fingers.

Blaine didn’t answer, just rocked side to side in the barest motion and adjusted his cheek on Kurt’s chest with a humph.

The friction against his hips made Kurt’s lips part, and his head fall back. He smiled around a mouth-drawn breath, tightening his fingers in Blaine’s hair. He could feel the heat inside, building under his skin, the proximity and the freedom to own Blaine whenever he wanted to was right there.

I want all of you, he thought, squeezing his thighs tighter around Blaine’s body. I want all of you around me. Inside me.

Blaine seemed to jolt awake at the new pressure, his sleepy eyes lifting as his head rose up so he could inspect Kurt’s face. He watched the pink lines of Kurt’s mouth with dark, half-lidded eyes, swiping a wet tongue over his own lower lip and following it with his teeth.

Kurt blinked at him, stunned at how fast his body was rushing to lust, and exactly how much he wanted. He wondered if Blaine had felt it.

He assumed so as Blaine dropped and pressed a kiss to his chest, mouthing at the creases of definition until he reached a nipple and sucked it into his mouth. Kurt rose up beneath him, arched into his mouth and let out a barely audible oh of pleasure as Blaine’s hands slid down his body and his mouth kept working.

“B- Blaine, we can’t r- right now,” he managed to say between panting breaths.

“Why not?” Blaine mumbled sleepily, still flicking at the nipple with his tongue.

“School,” Kurt said, hips working without him and rutting slowly up against his boyfriend. “Oh, god - we - we have to go to school.”

“Alarm hasn’t gone off yet,” Blaine insisted.

On cue, the clock clicked over, and a blare of music flooded the room.

They froze for a moment at the sound, and fell back down to the mattress, laughing.

Kurt pushed his fingers through Blaine’s hair, sweeping it away from his face. “Tonight,” he said.

“Tonight?” Blaine’s brow lifted hopefully.

With a grin, Kurt craned to kiss Blaine’s forehead before he wriggled beneath him, pushing at his shoulders just firmly enough to force him to move. “Come on, we have to get dressed.”

Groaning, Blaine rolled the other way to let Kurt up, flopping onto his back gracelessly and dragging hands through his hair.

“I have a feeling about today,” he said quietly.

Kurt glanced back over his shoulder on his way to the bathroom. “Oh?”

Blaine nodded, smiling brightly up at nothing in particular. “I have a very good feeling.”

It wasn’t until Burt showed up in the middle of Kurt’s French class that day, fidgeting excitedly and asking to see him in private, clinging to an envelope, that Kurt realised this was what Blaine could feel coming. This was where it began, he thought, wrapped up in his father’s arms in celebration, laughing through happy tears.

He couldn’t understand how Blaine had known. He didn’t expect to be racing down the school hall, holding his bag tight to his side and clutching a piece of paper in the other hand, but he was. By the time the final bell rang, he was flying as fast as his feet would carry him to meet Blaine by the Navigator.

Blaine rocked back lightly on his heels when he spotted him, smiling bemusedly at the excitement that was clear and bright on Kurt’s face. He let out a surprised and muffled grunt when Kurt flung himself into his arms.

“I got in!” Kurt shouted.

Blaine adjusted his chin over Kurt’s shoulder, laughing and swaying with the firm weight of his boyfriend pressed tight against his chest.

“You got in? OH!” He pulled back, bumping the car door with his hips and gripping Kurt’s shoulders in both hands. “NYADA?”

Kurt held up the piece of paper, breathless and beaming. “I got in.”

“Oh my god,” Blaine pulled him in for another desperate hug, laughing and smiling. “You got in! I knew you would!”

Kurt didn’t care who could see them. He couldn’t have stopped himself if he wanted to, leaning back to press a hard kiss to his boyfriend’s lips in the light of day, in the middle of the school parking lot, and curling both arms around his neck.

“I love you,” he breathed as he pulled away, bowing and pressing their foreheads together.

“We should celebrate,” Blaine insisted.

Kurt nodded quickly. “Dad’s taking us out for dinner. We have time though,” he rushed out his words, pressing another kiss to the edge of Blaine’s mouth.

“Kurt, we’re- someone could-“

“I know, I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to force himself to let go. “I’m just. I’m so happy, Blaine. I … this is everything I’ve wanted, for so long.”

Blaine nodded, forcing his smile wide. “I know. I’m so, so proud of you.”

With one last parting kiss, Kurt slipped out of his arms, stumbling around to the driver’s side as he folded up his acceptance letter and tucked it away before rummaging in his bag for his keys.

Dinner was over too quickly, just a blur of dishes and desserts mixed amongst laughter and fast-paced discussions on the end of school, the approach of graduation, and the vast new world that was New York.

When he made it to their room that night to settle in, clean and damp and still riding the unexpected high of his good news, he realised Blaine was sulking quietly on the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

Blaine shook his head, face pulling into a patented grin instantly. “Nothing. Nothing at all. I told you I had a good feeling about today,” he said, nodding to the NYADA acceptance letter Kurt had pinned up on his board. “It’s just. Wow, New York.”

“It’s going to be…” Kurt laughed, eyes rolling up to the ceiling as he pressed both palms to his cheeks. “Incredible.”

Blaine bobbed his head in another nod, eyes falling down to the bedspread and chin resting on his hands.

“I know it’ll take some getting used to,” Kurt offered, cocking his head to study his Sub’s face. “But there are so many opportunities there for us.”

Blaine looked up, blinking. “For… us?”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Kurt said, pivoting on his toes and lifting his bag up onto a chair. He pulled out a small folder, flicking at the elastic catches and flipping open the cover. “We have to fill these out too.”

Shifting up off his belly, Blaine sat back and folded his legs as Kurt crawled onto the end of the bed.

His eyes grew wide when he read the block print across the top of the forms.

“Sub Aid Benefits? You-” he looked to Kurt, “you’re taking me - with you?”

Kurt met him with a surprised stare. “Of course I am.”

Blaine’s mouth hung open, eyes fluttering wildly in shock.

Suddenly frightened, Kurt pressed the folder shut. “I mean, you can … I guess, you can stay in Lima for your senior year if you want. But your grades are more than high enough to qualify, and we’ll have been claimed for six months by the time we move, it’s - OOF!”

He rocked back, sliding down the bedspread as Blaine all but piled on top of him.

“Blaine!” he laughed.

“I love you,” Blaine managed to utter between kisses. “I’m sorry. I’m so proud of you and I know this is everything you wanted, you deserve this. Kurt, you deserve this,” he insisted, sitting back up straight. “I knew you’d have to go, and I knew it was going to hurt if you did but this is- it’s everything.”

“You thought I was leaving you behind?” Kurt asked, shocked.

Blaine smiled sadly. “It would’ve been okay. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to happen to you, and you’ve wanted New York for…” He ducked his head. “It would’ve been okay.”

“No.” Kurt pushed up against him, dropping the folder over the edge of the bed. “No, it wouldn’t be. You have to - please - you have to know,” he begged softly, climbing into Blaine’s lap and cradling his head. “You’re mine. You come with me, where I go. We go. You’re mine.”

Blaine shivered underneath him, hands fisting at his tank top. “Kurt.”

“Shh,” he whispered, pressing light kisses over Blaine’s face before he tipped his chin up in both hands, sliding their mouths together.

The kiss was hard, needy and pushing into Blaine’s mouth. Kurt kept his head still with both hands, claiming him in rough drags of teeth and tongue. It was a demand, a promise, an instruction; you are mine. You belong to me.

Blaine whimpered against him, hands clinging tight to the smooth skin of his hips, holding on and taking everything he was given. Kurt rocked forward on Blaine’s thighs, hands dropping to capture his wrists and bring them up between their bodies. He pulled away long enough to press a kiss to the inside of Blaine’s bracelet, dragging his bruised lips over sensitive skin.

“Kurt.”

“Hold me,” Kurt instructed desperately, letting go of his hands. “Touch me.”

Blaine’s breaths were short and sharp, his eyes heavy lidded and dark with arousal. “Yes.”

Kurt reached back behind himself, guiding Blaine’s hands over his body blindly. He tipped forward, rocking harder into Blaine’s lap, making their hips slide together as he settled Blaine’s palms at the base of his spine, guiding them under the elastic of his pyjamas and over the high curve of his ass.

“Kurt?”

He smiled, pressing his weight down and revelling in the moan that he earned, nipping at Blaine’s lip gently.

Calm and in control, he fixed Blaine with determined eyes. “Fuck me.”