It was taken without hesitation. But Blaine didn't look up at him.

He hadn't looked at him since before.

When they pushed through the door and made their way into the living room, Burt turned in his seat.

"Hey, how was-…" His voice trailed off at the sight of the two boys in front of him.

After a moment he rose from his chair, measuring them with careful eyes.

Kurt kept his face impassive, but couldn't fight the instinct to slide an arm around Blaine, to pull him closer.

Blaine simply let him, and stayed there, warm and solid against his side.

His father's reaction was unreadable as he glanced between them, but recognition soon flashed across his face. He sighed softly.

"Carole," he called, looking over his shoulder to the opposite doorway.

Kurt swallowed, hand rubbing soothing circles into Blaine's back absently.

He knew it wasn't the fact that he'd claimed Blaine that worried his dad. It was the fact he didn't tell him first.

When Carole came into the room with a bright smile, Kurt felt his breath catch, waiting for the ball to drop again.

She met Burt's eyes, and followed as he pointed to the boys with a nod in their direction.

The look on her face almost made Kurt smile, even after everything that had happened that night. It was sweet and knowing; just a soft curl at the edge of her mouth and an tilt of her head. Like finally being met with something she'd been waiting for.

"Was this planned?" Burt asked suddenly.

"No," Kurt answered. "But it's done."

Burt nodded, letting his gaze drop.

"Oh, sweetheart," Carole said suddenly, moving forward. "Your eye."

Blaine flinched, but kept his head bowed.

"The neanderthals at school attacked him, they were-" Kurt choked quietly at the memory of Blaine on his hands and knees. He regained his composure quickly, fixing Carole with a pleading look.

She nodded in understanding, reaching out and rubbing at Blaine's shoulder comfortingly, guiding him away.

"Come on, sweetheart, let me have a look. I'm a nurse."

He moved hesitantly with her, reluctant to be pulled away from Kurt.

"I'm Carole," she said as they made their way to the door. "I just need to make sure nothing's broken."

Once they were out of earshot, Kurt let his body slump and his eyes fall shut. A shuddering breath fell away from him, carrying too much of the night's pent up emotion.

Burt was already shifting towards him worriedly. "Kid, what the hell happened?"

"Dad-" He sobbed quietly, and buried his face in his father's shoulder as soon as he was close enough.

He felt strong hands on his arms, patting lightly. "Hey."

"They were hurting him," Kurt managed through tears. "I felt it, I could feel it. I- oh my god."

"Shh, hey, it's like that, I know. Trust me, I know," he said quickly. "When you feel helpless? When they need you and you can't do anything? Trust me, I know. It's the worst feeling in the whole damn world."

"I had to do it, Dad, he's my friend," he uttered softly.

"Wait." Burt pulled him back to look at his face. "You … claimed him after that?"

Kurt nodded weakly.

"You… felt it. And then you claimed him?" Burt asked carefully.

Blinking at him, Kurt nodded again with a sniffle. "Yes."

Burt seemed to study his face for a moment, eyes narrowed and unsure.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," he said. "Look, Kurt, I know you felt like you had to. But did you want to?"

"I had to-"

"But did you want to?" Burt asked again, lifting his brow.

"I-"

"He should be alright," Carole interrupted as she lead Blaine back into the room. "It'll swell, and bruise, but his cheekbone isn't broken."

Kurt nodded at her with a grateful, sad smile.

"I want to - talk to Blaine. Alone. In my room," Kurt said gently, looking back to his father. "If that's okay?"

"Hey, he's your Sub." Burt shrugged. "It's both your room now."

Kurt glanced over quickly to Blaine to gauge his reaction, but he was still staring a the floor, clutching the ice pack to his swollen face.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked softly, reaching out a hand.

It was accepted again without a word, and Kurt gave his father a parting look of gratitude as he lead Blaine upstairs to his bedroom.

Once inside, he let the door slip shut and turned to face his Sub.

"Blaine?"

Nothing.

"Blaine, please." Kurt could taste bile in his throat, could feel the panic flashing in his chest, hot and hollow. "Please look at me."

It wasn't a command, but Blaine looked up anyway, fixing him with sad, empty eyes.

"Talk to me."

Blaine's gaze drifted over the room for a moment as he wet his lips. "You-"

Kurt drew a sharp breath at the word, grateful for anything at this point.

"You shouldn't have done it."

He tried not to let the flash of hurt register on his face. "Why not?"

"You didn't want me, Kurt," Blaine said, voice barely controlled. "What am I supposed to think? I don't need your pity."

"It wasn't about that, Blaine, please-" He moved in, only to have Blaine step back and nearly trip over an ottoman.

"Please," He begged again quietly. "Please understand, I had to. I have to keep you safe."

"Why? What - what did it matter to you?"

"Because I lo-" He choked on the words as they caught in his throat.

He's your best friend. Don't do this. Don't scare him away.

"Blaine-"

Don't you dare lose him.

"Here," Blaine dropped the ice pack onto the shelf, "you should - take this." His fingers were prying at the metal clasp on his wrist.

Kurt's eyes widened.

To break a claim, remove the Sub bracelet and return it to the Dominant party.

"No!" he said suddenly, hands darting out to wrap around Blaine's fingers and stop them. "Please, no, don't," he begged, "please don't. Please, Blaine."

His voice was frantic and unrecognisable, and he looked up to find Blaine staring at him, stunned.

"Pl-"

"I won't," Blaine cut him off.

"You have to understand," Kurt told him. "I can't - you - I can't ever see them hurt you again. It's not about pity, it could never be about pity. I care about you. You- you're my best friend."

It felt like gravity, when Blaine swayed towards him. He tried to step into it, but Blaine pulled back too fast, like he'd caught himself threatening to fall.

"This isn't how it's meant to work," Blaine insisted. "Best friends aren't supposed to-"

"I don't care," Kurt said. "All I know is that you're safe. And you're here, Blaine. You're here. And I can't feel like that's anything but how it's supposed to be."

Blaine was trembling lightly, and Kurt wondered just how much he was fighting the need to touch, to hold on.

He reached out to him, in offer.

Blaine shook his head once, and the trembling grew visibly worse.

"No, if we - if we're going to do this. If we're going to be… this. Whatever it is. Claimed and friends?" Blaine said. "Then we need to just be friends."

"Then be my friend," Kurt begged brokenly, "and let me fucking hold you."

It was all it took. There was a soft thump as their bodies met, and Blaine's arms coiled tight around Kurt's waist as he buried his face in his neck. Kurt wrapped both arms around his shoulders instantly, fisting handfuls of his jacket.

Contact was the strangest kind of relief; like the sudden ability to move freely after too long trying to run underwater. Blaine sank into his arms, soft and warm and perfectly heavy, melding to Kurt's body like it was made for him.

With his eyes closed, Kurt rested his cheek against Blaine's crown, squeezing his arms tighter just to prove to himself that Blaine was real.

"It's not fair," Blaine mumbled into his collar, voice suddenly calm and even.

"What's not?"

Blaine sighed, but it was a peaceful sound. "That you can fix me. Just by doing this."

Kurt could have cried at that. "Ohh, then I'm so glad life is unfair."

He felt a soft vibration as Blaine chuckled against his throat.

"Please understand, I did it because - I had to," Kurt said seriously, voice threatening to break again. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Blaine squeezed his waist in reply.

"I couldn't just sit there and not do something, I have to keep you safe, it's-"

"In your nature," Blaine finished for him softly. brushing his lips over Kurt's throat in a tiny, friendly peck before he settled his head on his shoulder. "I know."

It's more than that, Kurt thought. God, it's so much more than that.

Blaine nuzzled into his neck, humming contentedly, and Kurt felt a new ache settle inside.

I can feel you in my blood.

"Will you stay?" Kurt asked carefully, holding his breath for a reply.

After a moment, Blaine pried himself away, blinking at his Dom with sweet and tired eyes.

"I have to … talk to my parents," he said, face falling. "But… yes."

Kurt beamed at him. "Thank you." He pulled Blaine back into his arms excitedly, quietly thrilling at the soft sound of his laugh. "Oh, thank you."

When they made their way downstairs again, Burt was doing a terrible job of waiting patiently.

"So," he said, eyes still on the TV, playing nonchalant but fidgeting restlessly with the remote. "How's… everything?"

Kurt smiled at him gently. "Blaine is staying."

"So you two are-?"

"Friends," Blaine clarified. "Who … we're…"

"You okay, kid?"

"Yes, sir," Blaine said firmly, eyes down.

After he exchanged a look with Kurt, Burt studied the Sub carefully, trying to understand. Even in his most introverted moments, Finn had never been so withdrawn.

"We're friends, who happened to be claimed," Kurt explained. "We'll make it work."

There was something about his father's face, the way it was almost expressionless but held something back, something small behind his eyes - Kurt had unsettling sense he knew something he wasn't telling them.

Burt nodded at Blaine. "You can have Finn's old room."

No. Wait. Mine. Kurt pushed the private demands back down and tried to ignore them. It was just the freshly claimed Dom talking. That's all.

"That okay?" Burt asked.

"That's … sure," Kurt said, trying to keep his voice even. "Blaine?"

Blaine smiled timidly. "Thank you, sir."

"You're family now, kid," he said. "Call me Burt."

With a slight bow of his head, Blaine pressed his lips together tightly.

"We're going over to his place, to get his things. And tell his parents."

"Get it over and done with," Blaine added bitterly.

"They're not going to be happy for you?" Carole asked, barely hiding her worry.

Blaine let out a soft laugh, but it was humourless. Kurt blinked in surprise when he caught the sudden resemblance to Cooper in Blaine's features.

"No, they won't," Blaine mumbled.

Burt wanted to ask, and went as far as opening his mouth to before a quick warning glance from Kurt made him close it again.

"We'll be back in an hour," Kurt said, squeezing Blaine's hand.

With another nod of acknowledgement, Burt watched them turn and gather their bags from the stoop before they disappeared out the door.

The drive over was quiet, but comfortable like it'd always been. Kurt wondered at the note in Blaine's voice when he'd mentioned his parents, the undercurrent of emptiness in his tone. He'd never spoken about them, that Kurt could remember. In fact, he'd never so much as mentioned their names.

They made their way up the Andersons' front path when they arrived, and Blaine fumbled for his keys briefly before Kurt reached out and steadied his hands.

With a grateful glance at his Dom, Blaine turned the key and let the door sweep open.

The entry way was exactly the same as Kurt remembered it, still pristine and giving off the impression of undisguised wealth and a permanent maid service.

"Mom? Dad?"

"In here, dear," a woman's voice came from the next room over, and Blaine stiffened at the sound.

Pressing a hand to his back, Kurt leaned in closer. "We don't have to-"

"Please," Blaine whispered. "Let's just - get it done."

Kurt followed him through the tall arched doorway into the living room.

She was a tiny thing, draped in a long flowing summer dress and heels that clicked on the marble tile as she shifted and plucked at random plants by the fireplace.

"They keep drooping, why are they always drooping? It's so depressing in here," she muttered.

Kurt wanted to point out that the plants she was fussing over were probably drooping because, well, fireplace, but he held his tongue.

"Mom?"

She glanced up quickly, but barely saw them. "Hello, dear, I thought your brother said you were going to a friend's house for dinner?"

"Mom, can we please talk?"

The tone of his voice made her stop this time, and she eyed him over carefully for a moment before casting a shrewd look at Kurt.

He held up his chin under her silent interrogation to disguise his train of thought; the sharp, angry, coiled-up part of him that was still waiting for her to at least register that her son was injured.

"You have a boyfriend?"

Kurt heard the sharp hiss of breath as Blaine drew it, and it took everything he had not to reach out again and draw him into his arms. Not now.

Blaine lifted his wrist with a weak smile.

His mother cocked an eyebrow at the bracelet, unimpressed, and returned to her plants. "I thought Cooper said the boy turned you down?"

Blaine's mouth fell open around a word he couldn't get out, until Kurt's hand rested softly on the small of his back.

"He did, but-"

"Now he's taken you on?"

With a nervous shake to his voice, Blaine answered. "Yes."

"Oh, Blaine." She let out an amused sigh. "Only you could go and get yourself claimed by someone who didn't want you in the first place."

Kurt couldn't help the bright flash of anger that sparked in his features, but managed to control it quickly enough.

"That was a mistake," he informed her calmly.

She turned to peer at him again, pursing her lips.

"Kurt Hummel," he said cordially. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs Anderson."

Blaine shifted beside him, and Kurt could feel the relief emanating from his body.

"You're tall," she said.

Kurt blinked at her, unsure as to how to reply.

"He is," Blaine confirmed, as if it were something he expected her to say. "Mom, I'm claimed now. I'm - Kurt's invited me to stay-"

"Go," she said dismissively, running light fingers over the fronds of a fern. "You should, it's your responsibility."

He nodded. "Will you … tell father?"

"I can't see why it'd come up," she said.

Blaine nodded again, eyes falling.

Kurt was almost shaking with anger, throat flashing in the light as his jaw clenched and his teeth ground together quietly.

But then Blaine's hand slipped into his, palm to palm, and suddenly the anger ebbed away.

"Come on," he whispered. "I should - get my things."

Kurt glanced over his shoulder at the tiny woman as he was lead out of the room, blinking in disbelief as she didn't glance up even once while her son quietly walked out of her life.

By the time Blaine's door closed behind them, Kurt couldn't bear it anymore.

"Oof!" Blaine grunted as he found himself tangled up in Kurt's arms again, trying to talk with a mouthful of shirt. "Krrpht."

"Sorry - I'm sorry-" Kurt said, leaning back. "I just - god, Blaine, I'm so sorry."

Blaine blinked at him, shocked. "I- I thought we were okay? Unless, you … don't want-"

"No! God, no. Not us. Your mother, Blaine, wh-" he turned in a bewildered circle, "what was that?"

"What?"

"She just… she-"

Blaine smiled at him, eyes sad but still fond and warm under the yellow lamps of his bedroom. "It's normal."

"It's not," Kurt insisted, waving an arm. "How can she treat you like that?"

Blaine shrugged, shifting to pull a long canvas bag out from under his desk. "It's how she is. You get used to it."

Kurt stared at him, open-mouthed and disbelieving.

"I mean, that went a lot better than I thought it would," he added, pulling armfuls of clothes from his drawers and tucking them into the bag.

Still stunned, Kurt pushed a hand through his own hair, blinking and trying to comprehend it all.

"Which one is she?" he asked carefully.

Blaine met his eyes. "Sub."

"Huh," Kurt honked softly. Nope. That didn't help him make any more sense of it.

"Father is…" Blaine narrowed his eyes at the wall while he shifted his belongings around, making more space. "He's very focused. On one thing at a time."

Kurt's brow furrowed in confusion.

"That one thing was his wife," Blaine explained. "Until it wasn't."

"Oh," Kurt's eyes widened.

"Cooper," Blaine confirmed. "The second he came along, he was all Father cared about."

Kurt rocked back on his heels, folding his arms over his chest as he listened.

"Cooper was everything," Blaine went on. "Father's never been an emotional man. His first wife - she didn't matter anymore. Only Cooper mattered, the moment he was born. Father wanted a Dom for a son, so he put … everything, all his attention, into Cooper. His first wife left him, after a few years, and he found another Sub."

"Your mother."

Blaine nodded. "She was happy, at first. She had me. And I … think she was happy."

Kurt cocked his head in sympathy at the doubt in Blaine's voice.

"But she realised too late that she'd never matter more than Cooper. Nothing did. Father wanted a Dom, just like him. I wasn't - part of his original plan. I think I was just to keep her happy. Keep her busy. But none of it mattered, in the end."

He caught Kurt's questioning look, and smiled sadly.

"You can't fight genetics."

"Oh my god," Kurt whispered softly, remembering the hollow star on Cooper's neck.

"He was kicked out the moment he got marked," Blaine mumbled, face drawing tight with emotion. "I was eight."

Kurt's mouth fell open, heart clenching too tight in his chest. He couldn't imagine what it would have been like. To be Cooper, and to suddenly have nothing, just because of a designation. To be Blaine; a child, growing into a Sub, who had the only good thing in his life - the one person that truly loved him - torn away for no reason.

"But he came back?" Kurt ventured softly, swallowing against the hot sting that threatened to reach his eyes.

Blaine nodded. "He never really left, he always found a way to come see me. And he came back for me. After… the dance. But his guardianship application was denied."

Unable to stand it any longer, Kurt closed the distance between them, resting his cheek on Blaine's shoulder and curling fingers around both hips under his jacket.

Blaine seized a slow, shaky breath, letting his eyes fall closed as his body relaxed under Kurt's.

"Mom lets him stay, when Father's out of town," he said. "They get along well enough. I think … she knows. That I need him."

Kurt squeezed his hips gently. "You know he can come see you, still? He's welcome."

Blaine turned in his arms, shoulder dragging over Kurt's chest as he stared back at him with huge, surprised eyes.

"Any time," Kurt assured him seriously.

A rush of air escaped Blaine in shaky relief, and he bowed to press their foreheads together. "Thank you, Kurt, th- thank you."

"Shh," Kurt whispered softly, tipping back to kiss his forehead. After a moment, he rubbed his arm reassuringly. "Come on. We need to get this packed up, get you home."

Blaine's eyes drooped slightly, and his mouth curled in to a soft, adoring smile.

"What?"

"You said 'home'," he whispered.

It struck Kurt at that moment what it meant for Blaine. Even after the trauma of the field, and the claiming - after everything - he could still smile. He belonged to someone now. After a lifetime of barely belonging to anything at all.

"That's what it is," Kurt answered gently. "It's your home, Blaine. I'm your home. And you're mine."

They didn't talk as they packed the rest of Blaine's smaller possessions, just swayed in the silence, bumping shoulders and exchanging soft touches whenever they moved past each other.

By the time they'd brought the last of the bags down to the Navigator, Blaine turned and let his gaze linger over the front of the house, smiling to himself.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked from behind him, worried at how long he'd stood staring at what he was leaving behind.

Blaine shook his head. "I am… perfect," he whispered, and turned to meet Kurt's eyes with a grin.

"Take me home."