The next morning, Kurt woke Blaine up in enough time to scroll through the photos before he had to get ready for work.

"I never asked...did you make that outfit?" Blaine fumbled with the buttons before Kurt took the camera back and pointed out the controls.

"Yup," Kurt said, resting his head against Blaine's shoulder. "Not too long ago, actually. I've just never worn it. I think it got a pretty nice christening, don't you? At least I know it's durable."

Blaine smirked as he looked at the photos. Then his eyes went wide, cock tenting the bed sheets with every new shot. The camera had taken over 200 photos, and Blaine savored each and every one. The first pictures were of Blaine alone, posed in front of the window. But the ones of Blaine and Kurt together weren't just erotic; they were artistic. There was a picture of Blaine - his first reaction shot - looking past Kurt to the camera. There was another of Kurt on his knees, his mouth completely sheathing Blaine's erection, Blaine's head rolled to the side,  lips parted, eyes closed. Another of the two of them together was his favorite - Kurt riding Blaine, moving up slowly, just a small portion of Blaine's cock exposed, Blaine sitting up with his arms wrapped around Kurt's body. Kurt's skin glowed. He looked like marble in the low light of the room, Blaine's dark hands a stain on his body, but they were connected, blissfully one, like an intricate statue of the human form, depicting a scene where Kurt was a fallen angel, and Blaine was the man he had left heaven for.

Blaine barely got halfway through the photos before he moaned out loud. Kurt smiled.

"How about you finish these..." Kurt said, indicating the camera, "while I finish this." Kurt slipped beneath the sheets and took Blaine's cock into his mouth.

Early morning head was the best thing ever to keep your mind off of work-related stress, Blaine realized. He whistled as he walked to his trailer, getting into his clothes for his shoot that morning. He spent longer than necessary in the make-up chair. The moment Deidre touched his skin with the foundation sponge, Blaine thought of Kurt painstakingly applying his make-up before making love to him in front of a camera, and his face flushed red. Deidre went manic, trying desperately to cool Blaine's skin tone. It was made all the worse when he had to pull on his character's skin tight pants with a massive hard-on after Kurt had texted him a few choice photos from last night.

Blaine looked at the photo of himself, posed in front of the window, rereading the text that went with it.

From: Kurt
You're gorgeous, sweetheart. That's all you...and the outfit...feel free to wear it any time ;)

Gears started to spin in Blaine's head as he read it over again.

That's all you.

Blaine smiled.

'Sounds like a photo release to me,' Blaine thought, shooting out a quick text. Blaine sighed. He hoped this would work the way he planned.

Blaine walked on set, dressed in boat shoes, tight jeans, a button down shirt, a cardigan, and a red and green striped bow tie. He looked at his reflection in a temporary stand up mirror and grimaced.

"Does this guy ever grow up?" he murmured in disgust, referring to his character's clothes. He turned in front of the mirror, looking at the fit of his jeans, the way the cardigan hung over his waistband. He used to think he looked hot in these clothes. Now, they just annoyed him. He remembered Kurt dressing him up last night, the tight pants hugging his skin, that super clingy fabric that wrapped around his torso like an embrace, that strangely erotic fur jacket.

The way he looked in those photographs - like a man, sexy, desirable, and with a mind of his own. One that could make his own decisions about his life and its direction.

His daydreaming was interrupted when a magazine was thrust in his line of sight, the pages folded over to reveal a specific article.

"What the fuck is this!?" Brad roared, shaking the issue a few centimeters from Blaine's face.

Blaine squinted through the tinted lenses of his sunglasses as he looked at the page.

"Oh, good!" he remarked. "Kim Kardashian lost the baby weight." He squinted at the picture again and frowned. "She still looks like a four dollar whore."

Blaine turned and walked toward the table where the reading was being held with Brad hot on his heels.

"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it!"

Blaine sat at the table with Mia, Sebastian, and a few extras already in attendance. Brad slammed the magazine down on the table.

"I'm talking about these pictures!" Brad shook the magazine emphatically, stabbing at the page with his finger. "You and your little twink making out in the supermarket? And what's all this about you and him at Legoland? With his kids?"

Blaine took a moment to look up at Brad. The man looked seriously deranged, face red, eyes bugging out, a random vein pulsing in his neck. Blaine wanted to laugh, and he would have if it wasn't also slightly scary.

Mia picked up the magazine and scanned through the article.

"Harpy bitch!?" she screeched.

Sebastian, who had been sipping a cup of hot coffee, choked suddenly, spitting a mouthful across the table.

Blaine laughed so hard, he thought he was going to tip his chair over. A handful of extras got up and left the table.

"So, who do I call, Blaine?" Brad said, dramatically taking out his iPhone. "Social services, or do I just call the cops?"

Blaine smirked.

"Call whomever you want," he chuckled. "Because if either of those agencies even decided to do anything, do you know what they'd tell you?"

Brad looked at Blaine with a blank expression, phone poised to his head as if he was actually calling someone.

"Well," Blaine continued when he got no response, "they would tell you that Kurt and his family don't live in that run down little trailer anymore. In fact, they recently moved to a beautiful, fully renovated house, so there's really nothing you can do about whether or not I see him."

Blaine stood, grabbing the messenger bag his character had with him in every scene and walked off to where the props crew constructed his bedroom set.

Mia threw the magazine down onto the table, crossing her arms across her chest.

"What now?"

Sebastian looked off in the direction that Blaine had walked, scrunching his nose as he thought, replaying every interaction he had with Kurt, or had ever witnessed between Blaine and Kurt.

"It seems like you're always buying me."

"I have no intention of making you a whore. Not like some people..."

Sebastian smiled.

"I think I've got it!" Sebastian said.

Kurt couldn't stop looking at the house. Even after living in it, he couldn't believe it was all real. He would walk from room to room, opening the doors, looking at the murals on the walls, admiring the new furniture. He would breathe in the the fading odors of fresh paint and sigh.

This day in particular was panning out to be fantastic. Dave had called Thad first thing, just as he had promised, and spent all morning with the man filling out applications and all sorts of other paperwork. Thad called the admissions office to tell them to expect his fax and to process it immediately. When a stuttering girl on the other side of the line said she was sorry, but that might not be possible, he simply said no, and to expect him in an hour. Then he shuffled Dave off in his Audi to the university campus and personally introduced Dave around to the dean of students, the head of the sport's management department, and pretty much anyone else he could find with any sort of clout. He introduced Dave as a special friend of Blaine's, and by the end of the morning, everyone in the sport's management program knew Dave's name.

When Dave finally returned home, he told Kurt that he would be starting school on Monday.

Kurt was so overjoyed, he didn't object when Dave picked him up and spun him around in a circle until he thought he would be sick.

Dave sat on the sofa with Finn, looking over some paperwork for the next school year. Kurt had tried to get Finn and Barbra into school the minute he could, but he found out the school in their zone was on a four track system, whatever that meant. The only track with any room was D, and it ended in a month. They directed Kurt to an independent learning system where the children would do their work at home and meet with a teacher a few times before the school year ended. They were also nice enough to direct Kurt to services for Eva. He had appointments all lined up for evaluations of every kind, and appointments with physical and occupational therapists.

Blaine was right. The opportunities for Dave and the kids were much better in L. A. He was so glad he was able to swallow his pride and agree to move - though he had to admit, regardless of how much he loved Blaine, the threat of having the kids taken away had also been a huge impetus to leave San Diego.

When Kurt heard a knock at the door, he practically danced over to answer it. He imagined it was most likely Nick, since he kept dropping by unannounced. Not that Kurt minded since they mostly talked about Jeff and Blaine.

He didn't expect to see Sebastian and Mia standing at there instead.

"Hello, Kurt," Sebastian said, emphasizing the last 't', rolling back and forth on his heels.

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Well, if it isn't Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Skank," Kurt greeted them with a smile. "How might I help you...off my property, that is?"

Kurt was just about to shut the door, but Sebastian caught it with his hand. Dave looked up from the couch at the sound. He saw Kurt's demeanor change - his back became ramrod straight, his stance defensive. He tried to shut the door, but someone kept it open. Kurt didn't ask Dave for help, so he wouldn't jump up to intervene just yet, but he decided to pay close attention as Kurt spoke to the faceless person outside.

"Why do I feel like I'm about to be double-teamed?" Kurt sighed.

"Do you charge extra for that?" Sebastian asked with a smirk. Mia chuckled beside him. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Look, I get it. I'm a whore...except, I'm not. I'm not even a working  dominatrix anymore. And this..." he said, gesturing between the two with one long finger, "is getting old, and sad, so if you will excuse me..."

Kurt started closing the door again.

"How's this house Blaine bought you working out?"

Kurt stopped. Sebastian and Mia chuckled darkly as if sharing a joke.

"What do you mean 'bought for me'?" Kurt asked. "He didn't buy it for me. He already owned it. He owns a lot of properties."

"Yeah, he does," Mia agreed, counting off on her fingers. "He has the penthouse in New York, the vacation home in Aspen, and another small apartment in Paris. I should know. I've been naked in all of them."

"And you call me a whore," Kurt shot back, shifting his eyes uncomfortably.

"Think about it, pretty boy," Sebastian interjected. "Blaine told you he bought this house when he first moved to L. A.?"

Kurt nodded numbly.

"Now, why would a hot, single, eligible young bachelor buy this run down family house whose biggest assets are it's proximity to the best schools in L.A., and is literally a hop, skip and a jump away from where Blaine lives now?"

Mia reached into her purse and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Kurt took it, ready for this ruse to be over so he could go on with his life. He opened it to find a listing for his house, recent as of a few months ago.

"Whore to whore, Kurt," Mia said, leaning towards him and whispering conspiratorially, "How much cock do you have to suck and ass do you have to lick to get him to buy you a fucking house?"

Kurt's insides were now frozen solid, but his hand moved on its own, slapping Mia soundly across the face and slamming the door to the symphony of her cursing.

Kurt gripped the paper in his hand. His shoulders shook as he read the listing over and over, looking at the pictures of the exterior, the guest house, the rooms with their yellow striped wallpaper.

It was true. It was his house.

"Kurt?"

Dave's voice barely registered as Kurt crumpled up the paper and tossed it to the floor.

'He did it,' Kurt thought, running his fingers through his hair. 'He bought me. I told him not to, and he fucking bought me!'

Kurt trembled. He wanted to sit down and cry.

In his head, his thoughts warred.

You needed a house, and Blaine bought it for you. Simple.

Not simple! There was no reason for Blaine to spend over three quarters of a million dollars on me.

But what about the family? The family needed the house.

Not a $750,000 house!!

You're in L. A. With Blaine. You're going to pay him back.

Pay him back with his money! I work for him!

"Kurt?" Dave walked over to him slowly, watching as Kurt squeezed his eye shut tight, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Dave crouched down and retrieved the crumpled paper on the floor. He flattened it out as much as he could to read it. Dave's face fell, his mouth forming a little 'o'.

Kurt was already dialing his phone when Dave looked back up.

"Um, Kurt?" Dave tried to get Kurt to listen to him. "Don't you think you should wait and talk to him about this in person? At least calm down..."

"Hello, gorgeous!"

Blaine sounded relaxed and happy. Kurt faltered for a moment, ready to change his mind. He looked back at Dave, ready to listen to reason, until he saw the paper in Dave's hands.

He put the phone on speaker.

"Did you buy me the house?" Kurt said, his words soft, accusing.

Blaine went silent.

"Did you buy me the house?" Kurt asked again, this time a little louder, and a little angrier, his voice shaking.

Blaine sighed.

"Why do you think..."

"You're two little friends were just here, Blaine," Kurt growled.

"Kurt, baby, why would you believe anything..."

"They brought me a copy of the listing!" Kurt was on the edge of tears.

Blaine sighed again, longer this time. Dave knew that sound.

"I just want you to tell me the truth."

"Does it matter?" Blaine asked, and Kurt knew that was a yes.

"Of course, it matters!" Kurt yelled.

"Why?" Blaine asked. "Why does it matter? You needed it anyway, and I was able to give it to you."

"It matters to me," Kurt said. "It matters because I want you to be honest with me! It matters because I don't want you buying me! I don't want what Mia and Sebastian are saying to be true...I don't want to be your whore!"

"First of all..." Blaine could feel himself getting angry - not at Kurt, but at Seb and Mia for not minding their own business. He tried to stay calm, "...believe it or not, I didn't give the house just to you. I gave it to you and your family. I happen to care about all of you, very much."

Kurt scoffed, and looked down at his feet.

"Second of all, you're not my whore. And what does it matter what anyone says?" Blaine implored. "Why do you care?"

"Because," Kurt said around a sob, "I don't want what we have tainted by a lie."

Sitting in his trailer, Blaine was being eaten up inside.

Blaine didn't want to fight with Kurt. More than anything, he just wanted everything to be okay. He didn't see a way out that Kurt would accept.

He had just gotten Kurt - the whole family. He couldn't just let them go.

"Then buy it from me," Blaine whispered. "I'll sell it to you, if that's what you would rather. Just, don't leave."

"Blaine..." Kurt almost choked as he fought back tears. "Blaine, I..."

"Please?" Blaine said, barely above a whisper. "Please, just don't go."

Kurt rubbed his eyes, willing away a headache that was threatening to start.

"How much?"

"How much for what?" Blaine asked.

"For the house." Kurt sighed. "How much?"

"A dollar." Blaine spoke without hesitation.

"Fuck you." Kurt's face was hot as tears broke free and raced down his cheeks.

Blaine cursed silently.

"I'll call my broker," Blaine relented. "I'll get you fair market price. I promise. Just, please don't leave."

"Okay," was all Kurt said before he disconnected the call. Blaine dropped his head into his hands.

Dave watched Kurt as he stormed into his room, choking on tears. He shook his head, blowing out a strained breath through his teeth.

Blaine sat, looking at his phone, willing it to ring, willing Kurt to come back to him.

Fuck Seb and fuck Mia!

Blaine looked around his trailer, targeted a ridiculous, unnecessary piece of crap abstract sculpture and threw it, watching it shatter with a satisfying crash against the wall.

A few minutes later, Blaine received a text message.

From: Dave
Could we meet for lunch? I think we need to talk.