A part of him balked at the idea of revealing it to any of his fellow classmates, of letting go of something that felt solely his, but when their exit from the hallway was met with the bell and an endless stream of judging, snickering faces, he knew he had to get them both away from McKinley.

He'd sent off a quick text message to Mercedes before they'd left, letting her know he wouldn't make it to Glee club. By the time they pulled into the parking lot at the Lima Bean, she'd sent back her overly mothering reply, assuring him it wasn't that bad and he'd be okay, and to call her later.

Rolling his eyes, he pocketed his phone and pushed through the door, aware of Blaine's presence right behind him. The trip had been silent, but not uncomfortable; easy like silence had never really been for him before. Something told it him it should have been the most awkward experience in the world: the boy who'd presented to him today, who he'd refused, was now sitting down with him for coffee. Was wearing his clothes. Was smiling at him, watching him with shy eyes, almost like he couldn't believe this was actually happening.

Kurt studied him in return, stirring his latte and taking in the mess of wild curls that fell at Blaine's temples, the shape of his jaw now that it wasn't rigid and clenched anymore, the strange quirk at the edge of his mouth where his lips seemed to dip and rise again. His eyes landed on the hollow star on his neck, and Kurt felt a strange pooling warmth in his throat and his heart at the sight of it.

"Why do you gel your hair?" he asked, sipping his drink and smiling.

Blaine blinked in surprise at the topic, brow lifting slightly, but he didn't recoil even a little.

Kurt found it odd that he was impressed by that; he was waiting for Blaine to panic, or run. But he realised when he caught the amused expression on his face that this Blaine was the same one he'd seen at the end of the hall, talking to Finn. The startled deer was gone from his eyes now, they were intense and stunningly brown-hazel under the cafe lights. Kurt tried to put a proper name to the colour, but couldn't.

"The curls are a mess," Blaine admitted with a soft laugh, eyes dipping down to his medium drip. "They … stand out."

Kurt cocked his head. "You don't like to be noticed, at all?"

Blaine's eyes stayed down, and his smile fell a little. "No."

"Why did you transfer?" Kurt asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Blaine met his gaze hesitantly, but when Kurt smiled, he smiled in return and seemed to relax again.

"This past year, I … was being home-schooled," Blaine admitted slowly. "I was-… there was an accident. I was in hospital for awhile, and right after… I was marked."

"I'm so sorry," Kurt managed to say, ignoring the strange ache in his chest. "But you're alright now?"

"I am." Blaine wet his lips before he went on. "My family thought it was best if I stayed out of school, just … for awhile."

Kurt shifted in his seat, unable to hold the burning questions back any longer. "Blaine, I need to ask."

Blaine sat up taller, giving Kurt his full attention.

"Why did you…" Kurt searched his face, "present to me, today?"

Swallowing roughly, Blaine focused on the lid of his coffee cup, turning it in circles on the table. He waited, mouth opening and closing again before he found the courage to speak. "I had to."

Kurt narrowed his eyes at him, but Blaine didn't look up.

"I mean, I couldn't stop it, it's just. I'm not very good at…" He struggled for words for a moment.

"You're gay," Kurt offered.

"Yes," Blaine breathed, eyes falling closed like a weight had been lifted off of him after far too long carrying it alone.

"But you weren't out before?"

"No," Blaine shook his head, body tensing. "At least… not at this school. I wasn't ready, I had to - I mean- I- I-"

"Shh, hey," Kurt reached his hand out on instinct, finding Blaine's. "It's alright."

The contact swept through him instantly, and Kurt watched the now-familiar release in Blaine's shoulders as he stroked a thumb over the back of his hand.

Settling again, Blaine met him with a grateful expression. "Thank you."

Kurt nodded. "Did you maybe…" He tried to find the right way to phrase it without causing any more upset. "Did you present - to me - because I'm the only other gay student?"

"No," Blaine insisted immediately, voice stronger than before. "And you're… not. But, no."

"I'm not?" Kurt sat back, bewildered, and Blaine's hand groped in the air in the wake of his retreating fingers.

He sighed softly. "No, you're not. There are a few of us, at McKinley, but most of us aren't ready. Not with the football team and the hockey team and… all of them. We're not strong, like you."

Kurt smiled, bowing his head and trying to will away the blush in his cheeks.

He thought back over the fleeting memories of lunch in the cafeteria.

"You are strong, though," he offered, looking up. "You outed yourself, today, by presenting - you had to know what it would do. That - there was a chance that I… wouldn't..."

"I knew," Blaine told him. Instead of the sadness or the fear he'd expected, Blaine's voice was smooth and even, almost resigned. "I didn't want to think about it. I just - tunnel vision. I focused and I just did. On instinct. I knew you'd probably say no, but I just-"

Kurt watched him carefully.

"I felt like…" He searched the tabletop, drawing a steadying breath. "Like I couldn't live with myself, if I didn't at least try."

Sipping his coffee, Kurt considered Blaine's confession for a moment, remembering what Tina had told him. If that feeling is strong enough, we'd do anything.

He tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating.

"You don't know me, Blaine," he said earnestly. "You're sweet. But-"

Blaine's face fell.

"You don't want me, I promise," Kurt told him genuinely.

Rocking back in his chair, Blaine's expression seemed to cloud over with doubt and sadness, followed by a flash of frustration. Kurt watched him, stunned, and his eyes widened when Blaine straightened in his seat again to meet his gaze.

"You don't know much about Subs, do you?" he asked. There was no anger in his tone, or condescension. It was just a question.

Kurt shook his head.

"The worst thing," Blaine said, swallowing and trying to control his breathing, "that you can do to a Sub, is tell them they don't want what they want. Because we… we feel things," he managed to get out, "in our blood. We feel that need, just like you feel the need to protect. But for us, doubt is… it's a part of us like water. Feed it, and we drown."

"I'm so sorry," Kurt rushed out on a breath. "I keep screwing up, and I don't even know that I'm doing it until it's too late. I'm new to this. I don't mean it, I'm-"

"It's okay," Blaine said softly. "I know."

Kurt paused, heartsore and hesitant, afraid he'd do something else hurtful without meaning to.

"I like you," he said suddenly, unsure of where it came from.

Blaine's eyes grew wide, and his mouth fell open slightly.

"And I don't know," Kurt rushed on, spurred by the adrenaline that rose with the confession, "what I really would have done today, if I had time to actually make a decision. If I hadn't just reacted because I was shocked. I keep thinking about it and… I still don't know. Please believe me, the idea of hurting you is…" his voice trailed off before the words could get from his heart to his mouth. I can't bear it.

"You're protective, by nature," Blaine said evenly.

"You know a lot about this stuff?"

Blaine gave him a gentle smile. "I was home-schooled for a year, Google and I have a very close relationship."

With a soft laugh, Kurt sat back in his seat.

"I know now, that it wasn't fair," Blaine went on. "And I'm sorry that I put you in that position, I shouldn't have - but I did try to come talk to you before, to tell you-"

"Last week," Kurt acknowledged. "In the cafeteria."

"And before that, in the mornings. When you'd sit in the choir room and read," Blaine told him.

"I'm so sorry," Kurt insisted. "It was the jacket, I … have blinders on. When I see it."

"I know." Blaine smiled openly this time. "It's just … it's armour. For me."

At that, Kurt's face opened in surprise. So many things Blaine had said were so personal, so intimate, and the fact that he kept admitting them freely made Kurt's chest warm with something he couldn't put a name to.

"You wear the jacket, keep your hair gelled, fill in the star," Kurt summarised. "All to stay invisible."

Blaine nodded.

Kurt paused for a moment before he asked, amused. "Do you even like swimming?"

Laughing aloud, Blaine sat forward and ducked his head slightly. Kurt watched him, grinning at the way his eyes scrunched up.

"I do, yes," he said.

"At least there's that." Kurt laughed softly before his expression turned to one of astonishment. "I can't - god, I can't imagine what it would be like to have to hide everything like that."

Blaine shrugged, shifting uncomfortably for a moment. "I got used to it."

"That's the good thing about today," Kurt offered, and when Blaine fixed him with a questioning look, he clarified; "You don't have to hide anymore."

When Blaine's eyes grew wide again, Kurt felt a rush of affection at the hopefulness he found in them, so bright and almost innocent, suddenly awake to new possibilities.

He hadn't realised that he didn't have to hide now, not behind a jacket, or a fake brand. He didn't have to stay quiet, and fade into the background. People knew the truth, all the damage was done. If nothing else, it gave him the freedom to be himself.

Kurt should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

He'd dropped Blaine off after their coffee, smiling as he pulled away from the Andersons' two storey house and headed back home, singing along to the radio.

Everything felt so serene, like his messed up, patchwork world was slowly sewing itself together. Somehow, even after the unexpected humiliation and shock of Alignment day, he'd found an ally in in the rubble, of all places, in the halls of McKinley High.

Blaine was there for lunch each day after that, always in the seat beside him, chatting animatedly about some magazine or TV show they both enjoyed. The world dripped away, when Blaine started talking, the sound and the blur of everybody else became the background. The shy, frightened Sub side to him only ever came out when doubt crept in, but it fled again in an instant when Kurt would reach out and graze his hand, or brush a curl back over his ear absently, like it was something they'd always done.

Somehow the jarring misstep of Alignment day had pulled the covers off of him, and now more than ever he seemed so real; just a flawed and sweet boy who was trying to be okay with being himself. He smiled more, something that made Kurt stare at him in wonder, amazed as to how someone could smile so often after everything that had been thrown at him.

After a few days he'd wound up resting his hand on the back of Blaine's neck every other time they were together, stroking at his hair without consciously realising it. It was something he'd seen others do before, a gesture of friendship from a Dom to a Sub. The times he'd watched Puckerman stroking fondly at Sam's hair in Glee club had left him smiling to himself so often. From what he'd seen, depending on the situation, it could be as simple as a hello or as complex as a caring embrace for a Sub in pain. It was, at the very core, an act of familiarity and comfort.

Blaine hadn't jerked away once, hadn't frozen under his touch, only ever leaned into it like he'd felt it coming. He never questioned it, never asked for or expected any more than just that tiny act.

Kurt wondered if this is what it felt like to have a best friend.

As the week passed into the next, they made plans for the weekend, tickets to a play and movie plans for the weekend after that. He was in the middle of wondering to himself how one horrible day could have turned into the best week of his life when he realised what was missing.

The jocks had left him alone since A-day. There hadn't been so much as a shoulder-check in the hallway.

He tried to shrug it off, ignore it and let it slide. They were probably just bored of him by now, nothing more.

But when Blaine didn't show up for school on Friday, he couldn't help the fear that crawled into his chest and settled over his heart, coiled around his lungs and clinging tight.

He called over and over through the morning and sent text messages intermittently as the day tumbled on far too slowly. By lunch he felt strangely numb, tight and ready for a fight without knowing why. When he reached his table and caught the sea of letterman jackets and smirking faces staring at him from across the room, he felt like he couldn't breathe.

What have they done?

He tried Blaine's cell again, listening to the soft tones of his voice on his answering message.

"Blaine, are you okay? You're scaring me," he said, barely registering the words were leaving his mouth.

In a sudden surge of panic, he hung up quickly, pushing his phone back into his pocket and abandoning his tray in favour of running to the parking lot and finding his car.

He didn't care if he got in trouble, he didn't bother leaving a message. By the time he reached the Andersons' door, he already knew he was right.

The man who opened to his frantic knocking was taller than him, stunningly handsome, and visibly exhausted. His bright blue eyes were half-lidded, and his brown hair was mussed.

"I'm - I-"

"You're Kurt," the man said, nodding at him and turning to let him through. "Come in."

"Is he alright?"

"They roughed him up. Smashed his phone, and took his bag," he said. "But no serious injuries. He got away. He's fast, and small, so he's hard to catch. Christ, he's so fucking small."

Kurt felt suddenly lost as the man (Brother? Had to be.) rested back against a hall table and buried his face in his hands, rubbing them roughly over his tired features.

He spotted the hollow star on his neck and felt a stab of sympathy. He couldn't fathom what it would be like, to feel that helpless.

How can you protect your little brother if you're a Sub, too?

"I'm so sorry," Kurt uttered brokenly, trying to fight the heat building behind his eyes. "Can I - can I please see him?"

The brother tilted his head in invitation. "Up the stairs. Second door on the left. Knock first."

Kurt was half way up the staircase before he heard his voice again.

"Wait-"

Kurt turned.

He'd moved to the bottom of the stairs, looking up. "What … what has he told you? About his old school?"

Kurt searched the banister for a moment, trying to remember everything. "He said there was an accident, that he was home-schooled."

The man laughed, but it was sad and humourless. "The accident," he enunciated carefully, "was a group of assholes beating him into the ground because he tried to take another boy to a dance."

Kurt felt the breath rush into his lungs, sharp and so fast it was almost painful.

"He got marked right after that," he said. "A Sub."

"That's why your parents didn't send him back to school," Kurt mumbled, eyes focusing and unfocusing too quickly against the threat of tears. "Oh god."

"He's stronger than he should be," the brother said seriously. "He's stronger than any Sub I know, because he survived that, and he - god, he fucking asked me if I could help him go back to school. I did. And he did. And he's survived, he's been just fine, until you."

Kurt flinched.

"This thing with you two. He can't help it," he said. "But you can."

Meeting those exhausted blue eyes, Kurt squared his shoulders. "I won't hurt him. I couldn't - ever - hurt him."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

Kurt wanted to shout, wanted to scream that he was wrong, that he didn't know them. But the rational voice at the back of his mind rose up too loud and too clear; You've known Blaine three weeks. This man is his brother.

"I'm so sorry," Kurt said. "Please. Please, let me see him, I just need to know he's okay."

"You want to protect him?" he asked accusingly.

Kurt stuttered, unsure of what to say. "I - do. But - he's… he's not mine."

"Who's fault is that?"

It felt like a slap to the face.

"I'm sorry," the brother recoiled, hands up in apology. "I'm angry, and I can't… I can't fix this. Maybe you can."

Kurt watched him rest against the wall, eyes falling shut again as he tried to compose himself.

"I'm Cooper, by the way," he offered quietly.

Nodding, Kurt eyed him carefully, waiting for permission.

"You can go see him. I won't stop you."

Turning on the stairs, Kurt shot him a grateful look before he climbed the rest of them quickly.

When he got to Blaine's door, he lifted his hand and let it hover in the air in a moment of indecision. Who was he to come and barge in like this? He was right in what he'd said to Cooper; Blaine wasn't his. So why was he even here?

Because he's Blaine.

He knocked on the door, and listened to Blaine's muffled voice asking Cooper to leave him be.

"It's Kurt," he said softly.

"C-come in."

When he pushed through the door he was met with the sudden, incredibly powerful sense of wrong to the entire room. It was dark, and muted, and so overwhelmingly unlike his Blaine, he almost choked.

Blaine was lying on the bed, propped up and half-tangled, liked he'd shuffled up into a sitting position too quickly.

"Hey," Kurt said softly, body tensing when he caught sight of the line of red that divided Blaine's bottom lip.

"Hey," Blaine said in reply, offering a weak smile. "You came."

"Of course I did," he said in a rush to the side of the bed, reaching out to inspect the injury. "What did they do?"

Blaine tried to wave him off, but his hand dropped limply to the mattress the moment Kurt's fingers brushed over his face. "I - they - it's nothing. They tried. I got away."

"I'm sorry," Kurt said, cradling his head in both hands briefly. "I should've been there, we - we were supposed to go for coffee, weren't we?"

"That was today," Blaine corrected him. "You didn't know, you couldn't have- you don't have to-"

"Shh," Kurt cut him off, sitting down on the bed.

Blaine smiled and swayed into his side. "I'm glad you're here. But- aren't you missing school?"

"Mmm," Kurt answered, side-eyeing him and searching for other scrapes or bruises, his shoulders still tensed with anger.

"Kurt?"

"I didn't know," he said, shifting on the bed and meeting Blaine's eyes at last. "You said it was an accident, at your last school. Not that you were attacked."

Blaine swallowed audibly, eyes dropping. "Cooper told you."

"He did," Kurt nodded, resting his hands on both arms. "Blaine, you could have told me-"

"We've known each other less than three weeks," he insisted. "We've been friends for ten days. I didn't want to… I didn't want you to know I'm so…"

Damaged.

Kurt felt the word coming and squeezed, willing it away, curls of refusal ricocheting off his skull like a machine gun of no, not, don't.

He stiffened in surprise with the afterthought; had really only been ten days?

"You don't have to do this," Blaine whispered.

"I do," Kurt said, dropping to his side again and nudging him with a playful shoulder. "It's my nature, remember?"

Blaine laughed softly, shoulders curling in and lifting up to his ears. When he winced, Kurt's hand reached out to cup his jaw on instinct, checking him over again before he even realised what he was doing.

When he did come to his senses, he caught the flash of Blaine's throat as he swallowed, and it struck Kurt that he was simply sitting there, patiently, letting him manhandle him like some fussy school nurse. His eyes were dark, calm and peaceful, and he had a soft smile on his bruised lips as he watched with fond amusement.

Kurt couldn't help but wonder if it was meant to feel this easy. He'd never truly touched anybody before, not really, so why was it couldn't stop with Blaine?

"Come with me, on Monday," he insisted, slipping his fingers across the back of Blaine's neck to stroke at his hair in a familiar pattern. "We can go in together, I can bring you home."

"I'm not going back," Blaine said gravely, eyes wide. "I - Kurt, I know you're strong and you face things like this, but I can't."

"You can," he said. "You just don't believe you can, yet."

Blaine met his eyes, trembling. "Please."

"Do you trust me?" Kurt asked seriously.

Wetting his lips, Blaine nodded slowly.

"It's going to be alright," he said. "Please, come back."

After a moment, the fear faded from his eyes, replaced with the same sense of calm from before. "I will."

At Kurt's gentle nod of approval, Blaine twisted his head back and forth, relaxing and revelling in the comfort of the hand in his hair.

With his lips curling into a tiny, fond smile, Kurt settled down against him, pulling his head down onto his shoulder and resuming little patterns through curls with his fingers. "You want to watch a movie?"

Blaine hummed in quiet confirmation, eyes slipping closed as his breathing slowed and his body went lax.

"Wh-" he tried to speak, sleepy and sedated by the warmth flooding his body from the caring attention of a Dom. "Kurt?"

"Mm?"

"Why do you … care? About me?" he asked softly.

Kurt rested his cheek against Blaine's forehead as he found the remote and flicked on the TV, settling back against the headboard. "I've never had a best friend before."

Blaine sighed sleepily as the faint opening sounds of Brigadoon trickled across the room.

"Me neither."