He saw Blaine again on the way out of his French class a few days later, and paused to watch, unseen, from a distance.

The boy at the end of the hall, chatting eagerly with Finn, seemed like a completely different person from the frightened, deer-like creature that had tried to approach him in the cafeteria. He was bright and animated, with an open, kind face, and his shoulders were straight and even, almost confident.

Kurt took a moment to study him thoughtfully; the way his face lit up as he spoke, the way he used his hands, the way he nodded as he listened to whatever it was Finn was saying.

Oh come on, it's Finn. It can't be that interesting.

Whenever Blaine laughed, he ducked his head a little, and his eyes would scrunch up slightly at the corners. It made something in Kurt's stomach twist.

He let his gaze fall to the letterman jacket draped over Blaine's shoulders, forcing himself to focus on it, finding the bitter taste at the back of his throat that came with the association.

He's one of them.

With that, Kurt turned on his heels and disappeared down the hall, pushing any thoughts of red and yellow from his mind.

The morning of Alignment day came around at last, and he staggered out of bed after yet another vivid sex dream; this time rocking on his knees on a mattress with a body coiled, warm and tight, around his hips, paying attention to all the parts of him that he'd neglected for so long in delicious, wet dips of lips and tongue.

He came as he woke, arching up and settling back down again with a moan that soon became a growl of frustration.

After his shower, he dressed and stripped his sheets from his bed, putting them on to wash before he went to make his breakfast.

It was just one day. He just had to get through this one day, and then it was downhill to graduation. No more expectations, no more dopey love-eyes in the corridors, or random horny teens grinding against the lockers. Well, a lot less of them, at least.

He didn't realise until he was halfway through his egg-white omelette that his father's eyes were trained on him, watching carefully over the top of his coffee mug.

"What?"

"Big day," Burt said simply, resting his drink beside his morning paper.

Kurt rolled his eyes, swallowing another piece of omelette. "Not for me, it's just another tuesday."

Burt nodded, pretending to read for a long pause before he asked; "So no plans then?"

"Dad-"

"It's alright," Burt held up a hand. "You know, I didn't take a Sub on A-day, you don't have to. You've got the rest of your life. Just - if you do. You know. Want to…"

"Dad."

"You should know you have my blessing," Burt finished genuinely with a tip of his head. "Your brother he's - he's going off with Rachel, now."

"You know about their plans?" Kurt asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Of course, we talked to Misters Berry," Carole said from behind him, coming up to plant a kiss on his cheek as she shifted past to get to the sink. "Finn's moving in over there tomorrow. Now that he's going to be Rachel's, it's only right."

"You sound positively heartbroken," Kurt teased, all too aware of the handful Finn could be.

Carole chuckled, despite her playful scowl. "I'll miss him very much, thank you."

"So." Kurt shifted against the bench and looked back to his father. "If he's going, what you're saying is...?"

"We have plenty of space here," Burt confirmed. "Not that - you know - I'm saying you have to. But, if you do-"

"I don't," Kurt grumbled, finishing his omelette and turning to hand the plate to his stepmother. "But I appreciate your blanket approval."

"I trust you, kid," Burt said with a shrug. "You know all these - hormonal teenagers running around, they don't know what they really want. Not really. But you're different, okay, you're smarter. And you know what you want. And if you find someone that you deem good enough to be yours, then who am I to say no?"

Kurt blinked at him, stunned. "You're serious about this?"

Burt's lips pulled into a thin smile and he shrugged in a way that simply said, well, yeah.

Considering for a moment, Kurt let his eyes drift down. "I don't… have anybody," he said. "But, thank you."

"All in time, kid," Burt said with a grunt as he shifted on his seat and flipped the page of his newspaper. "You never know. Chances are someone's gonna come out of nowhere. And when they do, you'll know if they're what you want - who you want. If they are, it's gonna hit you like a freight train."

Kurt laughed humourlessly as he slipped out of the kitchen. "I doubt that."

Burt and Carole exchanged a tiny glance in his wake, but said nothing.

He switched his sheets over to the dryer and brushed his teeth before he re-emerged, waving an absent goodbye as he slipped out the front door.

The day trickled by just as slowly as the week had, stuck in slow-motion. Finn's presentation had been easily avoidable, he knew the time and place, but that didn't stop him from enduring two others before lunch, and another one while he ate.

"Will this day never end?" he groaned.

"There hasn't been that many this year," Tina said. "Last year was huge."

"Thank god for small graces."

"Kurt."

He lifted his head to meet the doe-eyed gaze of their school counsellor.

"Legs out, please," she instructed.

He eyed her for a moment, unsure if it was worth an argument. He knew she meant well.

"Miss Pilsbury, it's really… not necessary."

"I know that not everybody has plans for Alignment day," she began, playing with the twined silver bracelet on her wrist, the one that neatly matched the cuff he'd seen on his dentist. "But you know that it's your responsibility as a Dom to maintain a position of availability."

"Trust me, it really doesn't matter if I do," he told her dryly.

She fixed him with a pleading look, and he wondered to himself if that was the Sub in her, or the school counsellor.

"If you don't keep yourself available, you're making it unfairly difficult for a Sub to approach you," she explained. "Kurt, it's already such a huge step for them - for us - to take. For a lot of Subs it's finding a strength we never knew we had, to put ourselves out there. A little help is always an act of great kindness."

Kurt rolled his eyes, twisting in his seat and raising an eyebrow at her to ask if she was satisfied.

"Thank you," she said softly, and added as an afterthought; "Congratulations, Mercedes, Sam told me about your plans this afternoon. I'm very happy for you both."

With a bright smile, Mercedes pushed her bangs away from her eyes and straightened in her seat. Kurt probably would have found her excitement irritating if it wasn't so damn cute.

Emma turned and glided away smoothly, only to stop again several tables down. "Santana, please, legs out!"

Leaning on his elbow, Kurt returned to his lunch as he heard her voice trail off across the cafeteria.

"Are we still going out this weekend?" Mercedes asked around a tater tot. "It's been far too long since I had a Kurt Hummel make-over."

"You won't be busy with Sam?" Kurt teased.

"I can always make time," she said with a smile.

"Woah," Tina interrupted. "Wh- what is he doing?"

Kurt glanced over his shoulder at her. "What?"

She nodded, and he turned around to see what she was talking about.

It took him a second to recognise Blaine without the jacket; he looked so much smaller, despite the tight jeans and the red polo that clung to his chest, cutting off right at the most flattering point on his biceps to show off long, tan, well-muscled arms.

Kurt swallowed roughly, dropping his fork back onto his plate without meaning to.

He glanced back to the girls, brow furrowed in confusion, but they only shrugged at him, equally bewildered.

He didn't understand. It didn't make sense. Once you had the jacket, you didn't take it off lightly. Not unless you wanted to stand out.

When he turned around again Blaine was right in front of him, eyes huge and just as frightened as they had been the first time.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked quietly. "They'll see you, they-" his voice trailed off as he glanced over to the jocks' table just in time to catch the reaction.

It only took one to notice, to tug on the sleeve of another, and like a pack of hyenas suddenly they were all waiting, coiled and expressionless, to see what was going to happen.

But Blaine seemed oblivious, almost like he'd forgotten they were in a room full of people. His focus was only on Kurt as he drew a shaky breath, eyelashes fluttering wildly. Kurt noticed after a moment that he was trembling.

"What are you-?"

Kurt's heart stopped with his words when Blaine dropped to his knees.

"Oh my god," Kurt breathed, eyes wide in shock.

He heard Tina gasp when Blaine's hands raised to rest on Kurt's knees, palms up, in offer.

"Oh - I - oh my god," Kurt tipped back in his seat, lifting both hands in surprise before he realised the mistake he was making.

Like a gunshot, the echo of their D/S Ed lessons reached him just a moment too late; to refuse a presentation, hold up both palms.

He dropped his arms, but it was too late - a rumble tore through the cafeteria, gasps and quiet squeaks of shock riding on the air until they reached a breaking point and turned to laughter.

Blaine ripped away both hands as if he'd been burned.

"I'm s- sorry," Kurt said, at a loss for what else to say. What just happened?!

It had to be a trick. This was planned. This was their plan to humiliate him, to make him say yes to a Dom, and make him a laughing stock.

It had to be a trick.

Blaine met his eyes for a fraction of a second, just one tiny glance and Kurt felt his heart squeeze tight in his chest at the look of utter agony on his face.

He was too slow to stop Blaine from recoiling completely, head down and face drawn tight with humiliation as the laughter lifted in the room.

Kurt's entire body screamed at him to stand up, to say something, reach out, take his hands, but he couldn't move; still numb with shock and struggling to form a coherent sentence.

Blaine ran as fast as his feet would carry him, pushing past giggling and mortified bystanders alike to get to the hallway and escape.

Pale as a ghost and still reeling, Kurt rocked back and gripped the table, trying to breathe.

"What just happened?" he demanded of nobody in particular.

"Oh, Kurt," Mercedes breathed, hand pressed to her heart. "That poor boy."

"I didn't - I - he-" Kurt blinked rapidly, trying to process the events of last five minutes in more than just flickers of laughter and the repeating image of Blaine's heartbroken expression.

He heard a snuffle from Tina and looked up to find her crying, tucked against Mercedes' side while she rubbed at her shoulder comfortingly.

"I'm so sorry," Kurt said desperately. "I didn't mean to - it was just my first reaction, it wasn't even a conscious decision, I was surprised-"

"I know," Tina said. "I just, I can only imagine how - oh god, how that would feel."

"But - why?" Kurt asked, voice hissing and harsh on the air. "Why would he do that? It had to be a trick. He isn't even … he's not…"

"It didn't look like a trick," Mercedes offered, meeting his eyes. "He might not have been out before, but he definitely is now. That's not something you'd do as a joke, not at this school. Kurt, I think he meant it."

"He doesn't know me!" Kurt insisted, still shocked and desperate for answers. "Why would he risk that?"

"Same reason he took of the j-jacket," Tina snuffled.

Kurt shook his head at her, asking for clarification.

"He saw how you reacted last time. He knows you hate it, what it means," she said.

"It's just a jacket, it's not worth having them against you," he said, glancing over to the table of jocks.

They were huddled together, deep in angry discussion and letting out far too many grunts of agreement for his liking.

"It is worth it," Tina insisted, drawing his attention back.

"What?"

"It is worth the risk. I know Doms don't always understand, but we … we know when we want to belong with someone. To someone," she explained. "We'd do anything, risk anything. It's hard to find the strength to actually do it, but if that feeling is strong enough… we'd do anything."

"But he's not a Sub!" Kurt exclaimed in frustration. "At least… I think - I can't be sure. Even if he is, it can't be worth the humiliation."

"He's a Sub, trust me," Tina said. "And - it is. It's worth any price. When you know."

"He doesn't know anything!" he insisted. "He doesn't know me. It has to be something they planned. It has to be."

Tina fixed him with sad eyes. "Kurt, I know you don't want to hear it, but I'm telling you. No Sub would put themselves in that position if they didn't mean it."

With a frustrated sigh he pushed away his food, tugging his bag strap over his shoulder and rising from his seat. Heads turned in his direction, watching carefully, waiting for some sign that the drama was going to continue.

"Can I help you?" he spat, and watched a half a dozen of them turn away quickly.

"Kurt, calm down," Mercedes said.

He glanced back down at her. "I just - I need this day to be over, now more than ever. I'll see you at Glee."

Without waiting for a reply, he swept away from the table and out of the cafeteria quickly, managing to avoid any more unwanted attention until he reached the hallway. He tried his best to ignore the staring faces that met him around every corner, keeping his eyes locked forward and focused on his destination.

Just get through the rest of the day.

He sat through the next two classes under constant watch, feeling every set of eyes and every snicker. When he was excused from his last class of the day early, he turned in his assignment with a grateful glance at Mr Wilson - a sympathetic fellow Dom - and darted out into the hall. At the very least, he could escape to the choir room for some peace before the endless enquiries of his fellow Glee club members began.

When he rounded the corner, he stopped at the wet blue splatter on the floor, eyes following the trail of puddles to the door of the girls bathroom. He quickly side-stepped the mess, hurrying to help; he knew all too well who slushies at McKinley High were reserved for.

But instead of Rachel, Tina or Mercedes on the other side, he found broad shoulders plastered with a wet, purple-tinted shirt, hunched over a basin.

Oh.

"I'm sorry!" Blaine said, arm waving in the air as the water dribbled over his cheek. "I'm sorry, I know I'm not supposed to be here," his voice was distorted by the water, but Kurt could hear the rough edge in it still, "I'll- I just-"

"Blaine?"

Blaine froze, his entire body going rigid as he groped for the tap to shut off the water. He rose quickly, staggering back into the wall, eyes wide and red. "Kurt."

"Did they do this?" Kurt asked, surprised at the sudden edge to his own voice.

Blaine glanced around, but kept his gaze low, almost as if he couldn't look at Kurt directly. Kurt could feel the waves of tension radiating off him.

"Hey," Kurt said, stepping forward. "It's alright."

Blaine's face scrunched up tightly, and he pressed his body into the tile like he was trying to disappear into it, covering his eyes with his hands. "Please, just… don't look at me. Just…" he struggled to get the last word out, and until Kurt heard it, he didn't understand why.

"Go."

Kurt straightened at the command, feeling his skin prickle. His eyes trailed over the line of Blaine's neck, catching the half-filled star, now mostly a stain leaking down his skin.

He coloured it in.

He was a Sub - and with that sudden knowledge, Kurt realised the gravity of what he'd just said. Somehow, even in distress, he was strong enough to give a command to a Dom.

No wonder they'd believed him.

Backing up slowly, Kurt gave a short nod. "I'm sorry," he said hesitantly. "I'll… go."

He turned and slipped through the door, jerking to a stop at the echo of a pained sob on the other side as it slipped closed.

The sound hit him like an anvil; rushing in a sudden, screaming wave in his blood.

Frozen still, he blinked, and breathed, flexing both hands at his sides carefully and trying to understand what was happening to him. It felt familiar; instinctual and real, and right like nothing he'd ever felt his entire life.

It came at him like a freight train.

Protect.

His gaze flicked to his locker, and he made up his mind.

Hopping over blue puddles, he gathered what he needed and let his locker door flip shut before he made his way back to the bathroom. He paused in front of it, drawing a slow, steadying breath before he pushed through again.

Blaine jolted at the second intrusion, panicked and stumbling when he realised who it was. His hair was half-plastered to his head with water and globs of ice, his eyes and lips red from the cold.

"Shh, calm down," Kurt said softly. "I'm not going to-" his voice trailed off, unsure of what to say. What am I doing? "You… you're safe."

"I- I can't, I'm sorry," Blaine mumbled brokenly.

Kurt caught the fleeting memory of his old D/S Ed teacher's voice, lingering at the periphery of his thoughts; a Sub is most at ease, most relaxed, when under the caring instruction of a Dom. Even if unclaimed.

"Blaine," Kurt said firmly. "Look at me."

His gaze shot up instantly, meeting Kurt's eyes and holding them.

"Take these." Kurt held out the clothes he'd gathered. "They'll fit you."

With a quick glance to the maroon cardigan and striped shirt in Kurt's hand, Blaine shifted on the spot, pulling uncomfortably at the hem of his polo shirt, trying to resist.

"You should take that off," Kurt suggested, moving closer. "Or it'll wind up trickling down to your jeans. You don't want that, trust me. I've been there."

Blaine's eyes narrowed. "Wh- why are you … helping me?"

"Nobody deserves this," Kurt said gently, looking him over to determine the extent of the damage.

"But… you…"

Blaine's voice was still too rough, too broken, and Kurt couldn't fight the sudden, overpowering instinct to reach out and touch him.

"Here," he said, dropping the clothes onto the dry end of the bench and tipping his bag off his shoulder. He closed the gap between them quickly, and Blaine stiffened in surprise for a brief moment before Kurt's hands found his shoulder and his neck.

Kurt felt the tension flood from Blaine's body instantly, muscles releasing under his fingertips as he visibly relaxed.

He let Kurt guide him down to the basin without complaint, staying still under gentle hands. Kurt waited until the water turned warm before he cupped small handfuls over Blaine's hair, running his fingers through to loosen the gel and wash away the flecks of blue.

Blaine's eyes had fallen closed, and his breathing slowed to a gentle, peaceful rise and fall as Kurt worked.

Watching closely, Kurt couldn't help but feel stupid at never having noticed him before. His dark eyelashes, fanning out over flushed skin, were stunningly long - and his hair clung to his temples in wet curls where the water had dripped away. He looked like he was sleeping, serene and utterly breathtaking even in the harsh neon glow of the bathroom lights.

Kurt felt a sudden, red-hot hollow feeling in his throat as he stared down at the boy under his fingertips. With a soft gasp he realised he'd stopped moving to stare, and resumed quickly, hoping that Blaine hadn't noticed.

When he finished, he wiped away the last of the blue stain from Blaine's neck, gathering his towel for him.

"There," he said, his voice a little too uneven as Blaine rose from the basin, eyes fixed on him from under wet lashes.

"Uh, you should - change your shirt." Kurt nodded to the small pile of clothes at the end of the bench. "The bell will ring soon, and then comes the post-class rush, you really don't wanna be in here for that."

A tiny smile flashed at the corner of Blaine's lips, and Kurt couldn't help but linger there, privately grateful for the tiny sign that he'd be okay.

He wet his own lips and studied Blaine for a moment, eyes landing on the now hollow star on his neck.

"Get changed," he instructed, voice even and strong. "I'll wait for you just outside. Then we… we should talk."

Blaine nodded his understanding, and watched as Kurt slipped out the door.

On the other side, Kurt waited, eyeing the hall clock. They had five minutes until the bell. He could be late to Glee - even if they noticed, Rachel would surely pull the focus back to herself and her newly claimed Sub. And, with any luck, he'd miss Sam's presentation as a bonus.

He could handle being late, just this once. He needed to fix this, and for that, he needed time.

Blaine emerged with two minutes to spare, looking sheepish but bright eyed, stunning in Kurt's cardigan and shirt. It was yet another side to him, Kurt realised as he raked his eyes over Blaine's frame. In just three tiny encounters he'd gone from terrified deer to confident athlete to sweet, shy gay teenager.

The silence seemed to set him on edge, however, and Kurt noticed him fiddling with the hem of the cardigan absently, gaze dropping down in doubt the same way it had before.

"It suits you," Kurt said quickly, trying for a reassuring smile.

The grin that flashed over Blaine's features was instantaneous and bright, and Kurt felt like he was seeing him for the first time.

"We got off on the wrong foot, before. I know it's a bit late, but," he held out his hand, "I'm Kurt Hummel."

Reaching out, Blaine drew a deep breath and held Kurt's eyes.

"Blaine Anderson."