He flew down the stairs, taking out his wallet and pulling out his metro card- he swiped it, and pushed through the turnstile. He remembered Blaine’s address from the times he had told one of the limos where to go, knew which line to take, and took the escalator down to the floor where the train would arrive.

He unraveled his headphones from around his ipod, and pushed the buds into his ears, and then began flicking through his playlists. He didn’t know what music to play. He didn’t have a soundtrack for ‘about to risk everything and submit and hopefully fall for a beautiful boy and maybe even find happiness.’

He settled on his “Hopeful.” Playlist, stowing his ipod and boarding the train as it screeched into the station.

All your life you’ve had to stand in line, still you’re standing on your feet. All your choices made you change your mind, now your calendar's complete. Don't wait for answers. Just take your chances. Don't ask me why.

You can say the human heart is only make-believe, I am only fighting fire with fire. You are still the victim of the accidents you leave, sure as I'm a victim of desire…

He closed his eyes and felt the rhythm of train as it moved, trying to take calming breaths, though he felt like jumping out of his skin.

He folded in on himself, listening to the train ding as it rolled over the track. He wanted to be there already. He didn’t want to live in his head for the next few minutes, not until he was with Blaine and maybe he would be able to breathe again, and maybe his breath would be taken away.

No walls can keep me protected, no sleep can keep me from the rain, and you can’t hold me down, cause I belong to the hurricane. I’m gonna blow myself away, hey, yeah-

The train finally rolled into the station that he was looking for, and he jogged upstairs, pushing past the turnstile and hurrying down the street, finding Blaine’s house- and yes, he realized, it was a house, it had to be, because that’s what the street was lined with. When he arrived at the correct number, he looked up at it.

If you only knew how easy it would be to show me how you feel, more than words is all you’d have to do to make it real, then you wouldn’t have to say that you loved me, cause I’d already know…

He pulled his iPod out, and wrapped the headphones back around it, pocketing it and taking a deep breath before heading up the stairs and knocking on the door. After a while of fidgeting and rubbing his gloved hands together, Blaine answered.

“Kurt.” He said, quietly, with a smile. He opened the door further and let him in.

Blaine’s house was large and expansive, but he didn’t really notice it as he was led into what looked like a den with a soft looking couch and a fireplace and bookshelves and it was so very Blaine that he was almost distracted.

Blaine was silent as he pulled him onto the couch, and gently removed his coat and threw it on the coffee table, as well as his gloves, and his shoes, so he was left in a pair of black jeans and a bright blue tee shirt, and a scarf, which Blaine unlooped and at that moment, he looked into Kurt’s eyes. Kurt saw something like conflict there.

“Are you here for me, Kurt?” He asked gently. And the quiet tone made his eyes swim, and he nodded vigorously- And the conflict in those hazel eyes resolved, and he smiled, and ducked his head down to kiss Kurt’s neck, just behind his jaw, making him shudder as he threw the scarf onto the pile of clothes. Blaine whispered something that sounded like “Thank you.” Against his skin, and pulled him down, lying on the couch, tucking them both under the throw blanket that had previously lay over the back of the sofa.

“Is this okay?” He asked, and Kurt could tell from his tone that he wanted it to be, but that wasn’t why he said yes. Their legs entangled, and Kurt laid his head on his chest, a few tears escaping, and Blaine kissed him once, as gently as he’d peeled away his outer layers, before singing a lullaby that Kurt didn’t recognize, but as his eyes slipped closed, he knew he’d remember.
***

Kurt woke up gradually to sun streaming in the den and Blaine watching him. He gave him a warm and lazy smile, knowing it was another one of his dreams, and it was a good one. Just lying there, feeling Blaine’s body in every line of his own and feeling so very warm and sated, like they had made love earlier in the dream and he just couldn’t remember. He held fast to the dream, it was, after all, a good one, and he didn’t want it to go away.

And then Blaine leaned down and kissed him on the forehead, and it broke the spell, because in dreams he had never felt Blaine like that before- his lips were soft and warm and yielding but firm and just a tad moist and Jesus Christ, that was certainly the most action his forehead had ever gotten.

It was real. It was real. Kurt could feel himself start to panic as the realization closed in, he had given himself to someone, he had gone half-crazy last night over a boy, he didn’t feel like himself, he hated this-

And then Blaine’s hand was on his cheek, turning his face so he looked at him.

“Kurt. We’re going to talk about this. I promise. But first there’s breakfast upstairs, and clothes you can change into if you’d like. I intend on flirting with you and making stupid attempts at seduction, now that I know I can. So please.” He leaned down, so he was a hairs breadth away from Kurt’s lips. “Hold off on your panicking. At least until I can get you fed and comfortable. And then we’ll take care of it.”

“Really?” Kurt asked, surprised that Blaine knew and was willing to address his tension.

“I’ll always take care of you, lovely.” Blaine said, shrugging his shoulders as if this were obvious. Kurt allowed Blaine to take his hand- allowed!- and followed him up the stairs, and into the dining room.

There were pancakes there.

He was beginning to think that breakfast was becoming a sign of change.

Blaine pulled out the chair for him Kurt sat, putting a napkin on his lap. He looked at the pancakes- they looked white, fluffy, and soft- and oh god, there was no way Kurt could let himself injest-

“Whole Wheat.” Blaine said, pushing another stack toward him- these were, sure enough, a nuttier brown and looked slightly less terrifying. Blaine was dishing himself up some of the regular.

“How did you know?” He asked, watching in a mixture of jealousy and disgust as Blaine put a heart-attack inducing amount of butter and syrup on his the three stacked pancakes. He busied himself with decorating his single pancake with a few strawberries.

“Because you looked disgusted at my macaroni and cheese, and asked the waitress where exactly the lettuce came from in your steak salad, because it tasted a bit ‘local’ that one time we went out to eat.” Blaine said, wrinkling his nose at him. “Which led me to the conclusion that you care about what goes into your body. Waste of time, if you ask me.” He said, taking a large bite.

“I’m just careful.” Kurt said, letting out an indignant giggle.

“Uh-huh.” Blaine crooked his eyebrow at him. “And yet, we burn so many fossil fuels every day because people like you want to know that their lettuce comes from organic sources, which I think is a little backwards. Of course, I can’t really talk. I guess if I had your body, I would care too.” Kurt blushed- and okay, that was weird- he’d gotten compliments before, sweeter and lewder than that, and they all had made him feel mildly irritated. Maybe it was in the delivery.

“So, how did you do it?”

“What, be so devilishly good looking and yet utterly mature and grounded?”

“Honestly, the flirting thing? It was better when you didn’t think you had a chance.” Blaine laughed outright at that, and waved his hand, indicating that he should continue. “No, I meant the pancakes. You were...”

“Under you all night?” Kurt giggled again and pushed his shoulder.

“Yeah, basically.”

“Luckily, you are a very heavy sleeper. I managed to make a phone call without waking you, and had someone bring all this in.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I didn’t want to get up.” He shrugged, taking another, particularly buttered bite. Kurt found he had no answer to that, and sipped at a glass of orange juice that Blaine had poured for him- and found that he did.

“I didn’t either.” Blaine said nothing, but had a private little grin on his face that gave Kurt an urge to kiss him on the cheek, and wow, if that wasn’t the cleanest urge he’d ever had.

Once Kurt was scraping his fork against his plate, Blaine took it from him and placed it on top of his own, rising to put them in the sink. Kurt wrapped a hand around the orange juice pitcher and the empty glasses, and started to get up to put them in the sink.

“Sit.” Blaine said, not turning around, but pushing the door open with his hip and heading into the kitchen.

Kurt sat.

Blaine came back bringing a large tray, on which he placed everything else on the table, and left it there, taking Kurt’s hand and pulling him upstairs. Kurt took deep breaths, trying not to let his heart jump up into his throat. Blaine reached a door and turned, grabbing his both of Kurt’s hands in his and pressing them to his chest. Kurt could feel the steady thrum of his heart underneath his palms.

“We are going to the bedroom, because that’s where we will be most focused. Not because I expect anything from you sexually. Not because that’s where you belong or will be spending the entirety of your time. It’s just a nice place.” Kurt could feel himself nodding, and allowing himself to be pulled into the room.

It was very, very… not what he’d expected a doms bedroom would look like. The walls were a bright, vivid blue, the bed was in the middle and done up in a sun-white comforter. There was a discreet sound system and TV against one wall, books, books, endlessly books along the other.

Kurt saw frames on the bedside table, which he approached, dragging fingertips over each corner. Blaine was in all of them; in each he was surrounded by a group of people- in one, many rugged looking boys in blazers, all doing some sort of jazz hand, the other a group of actors young and old in full regalia, the woman closest to Blaine kissing him firmly on the cheek, and another with what looked like a wedding party mid belly-laugh- Blaine was the groomsman all the way on the end, eyes clothes, nose wrinkled in what could be described as a cackle.

“What are you thinking?” Blaine asked, quietly, from behind him.

“Just that you are the most non-threatening person I’ve ever met.”

“I may be a dom, but at heart, I am…” he sighed tragically “Adorable.” Blaine flashed him a smile and sat on his bed, cross-legged, motioning for Kurt to sit across from him. Kurt did, taking another breath, and meeting Blaine’s eye.

“So, Kurt. The very first thing we’re going to do is to establish a safeword.” Kurt felt his eyebrows fold up in surprise. “A safeword is a phrase that you say when things are getting to a place when you aren’t comfortable.”

“I know what it is.” Kurt said, tossing his hair. He recalled all those videos he was made watch in middle school health- called things like ‘Know Your Dom.’ “I just don’t know why you’re giving me one so early. I thought we wouldn’t be having…”

“We won’t” Blaine said immediately, taking his hand again. “You will always have a safeword. You will always be able to use it. It’s not all about the sex, Kurt. I need to know whenever you aren’t comfortable, so that I can remedy the situation.” Blaine squeezed his hand once, briefly. “That’s an aspect of the whole worshipping thing. You have to be comfortable.”

“Then how does the whole punishment thing work?” Kurt asked, tilting his head slightly.

“The possibilities for the punishment will all be listed in the Covenant, which we will agree upon. But for the times that the Covenant isn’t active, or that I feel the need to deviate from punishments already listed, I will tell you and you will accept, ask me to select another punishment, or safeword, if you feel that you are being treated unfairly. You will always feel safe and comfortable in your punishment, even though it’s designed to remind you of how you transgressed.”

“Oh. Wow. Okay.” Kurt said, blinking.

“Not what you expected?” Blaine asked softly.

“No.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I’m… I’m alright, I guess? I mean, how do you feel?” Blaine chuckled, and hung his head a little.

“Like I kind of want to find the Maxwell character and teach him about the subtleties of power. With my fists.” Kurt laughed, and stretched up, because honestly, he had no idea a dom could seem so ideal, so damn perfect, and wrapped his arms around Blaine’s neck and kissed him gently yet hungrily and felt Blaine laugh underneath him and wrap his arms around his waist and pull him close, cradling him and kissing him until he felt the heat of it so thoroughly that he had to pull away to stop the spinning in his head.

“We were supposed to be thinking up a safe word, honey.” Blaine told him, as they lay on their backs, side by side.

“Right. Ah… Corduroy?”

“Sounds good to me.” Blaine answered, rolling onto his side. “Any particular reason?”

“It was my favorite book as a child. You can trust it will be the farthest thing from my mind while I’m doing anything sub-like.” Blaine nodded, and grinned at him.

“Do you have to go to work?” Kurt groaned and rolled into his chest.

“You knew I had work and you still let me sleep in? Still stuffed me with pancakes and got me into your bedroom?” Blaine laughed, and Kurt rolled away from him huffily.

“Kurt, it isn’t even 8. I made sure we’d wake up early. You’ll be fine.” Kurt rolled back on his side and raised an eyebrow at Blaine, who smirked. “After all, I need you home early if I’m going to be over tonight.” Kurt nodded, at him, rolling his eyes, and Blaine continued. “One more thing. You looked panicked when you woke up. Are you okay?” Kurt nodded again, sighing contentedly, and Blaine’s smirk turned into a brilliant smile. “I told you I’d always take care of you. Now come help me get dressed, apparently I can’t do it without you.”