His heavy breath echoed throughout the room, bouncing from the white marble floor and into the evergreen colored drapes that hung open. Light peeking from behind the angry clouds highlighted the beads of sweat glistening across his exposed clavicle bones and muscular arms. Thrusting sideways then retreating from the silent opponent Blaine grunted with the sweet pain of jabbing at the leather textured thing.
Moving quickly from what would have been the inside to the outside of an opponent he delighted in the thought of doing this to someone who deserved it. He wanted to give it to them as hard as he could go, until the vengeance in him had to recharge itself, then he would just order Kurt to continue in the action. The thought was such a beautifully tasty idea that Blaine didn't even hear the knock at the door.
"Master." Kurt's sing-song voice came upon him, shocking the boy into his direction to forget about the punching bag. A slight sweet scented wave of air blew past the tan boy's ringlets catching the leathery sack before it knocked down the tan boy.
"Master." The porcelain butler stood behind him now, delicate fingers barely touching the uniquely ugly punching bag. "You really needn't do any of this." Kurt whispered to him making the flesh on the back of his neck crawl with forbidden want.
"Kurt, you mustn't make your master shiver like that, or I shall have to punish you." Blaine told the taller man as he stroked the middle of Kurt's waist-jacket.
"You are quite right sir." The doll faced butler said removing the shorter man's hand from his chest and righting himself the way any proper, prim butler would have done. Scooting by Blaine, this canary of a butler bowed to his lord before introducing the new staff.
Blaine had fired every single servant his father had given to him as 'gifts.' They were all spies, all fifty-five of them. Nathaniel Anderson had been keeping an eye on his sons in the worst way since baby shoes would fit their tiny little feet. The tyrant would come into their room blind with strong liquor from the ball or pub or his personal collection in the catacombs and beat the two young boys until the blood lust over took him and he had to rape one of the maids for satisfaction.
Cooper was the one who always got it the worst. Nathaniel would curse his name and hit his side. If I hit your face we'll never get grandchildren, but there are other ways to hurt boys. Their father's eyes would go completely dark and he'd hit Cooper again. Blaine tried to stop it becoming a fierce wolf cub, brave and dedicated but still too weak to really fight off the armed hunter.
After the beatings Blaine would make Cooper take off his shirt and wrap the bruises and fractures in whatever rags he could get from the maids. Coop looked at his younger brother and stroked his face trying to comfort the boy. He'd run his big hands through Blaine's ringlets and pat the skin underneath the hair. It was these moments that assured Blaine their father was going to stop one day.
One day it was all going to be over and Alice would leave Nathaniel. It would be raining and the poppies would be in bloom. Blaine would run to the carriage and laugh at the old tyrant and everything would be wonderful and they would live happily ever after.
That day never came. The poppies never bloomed and everything just kept getting darker.
One night when the beating was extremely terrible and Cooper was a ball of absolute nothingness Blaine almost ran to their faceless mother. A woman who had birthed the two boys and never said more than five words to them a day. Blaine was a bit older by now and Coop was well beyond the age he should have been to be living in the same mansion as his parents.
"No." Cooper plead with him.
"Why not Coop, you're dying." Blaine batted at the tears welling in his eyes.
"Mom won't understand, we can't tell her Blainey." Looking into his doe colored eyes was enough for the young Blaine Anderson to agree with his brother. That night the main hall shook with thunder and was a lit with wave upon wave of white light. It was the night Blaine stopped being afraid of the dark and thunder storms, he kept near his big brother all night making sure the kind boy was alive.
Their mother never knew, and if she did she never did anything.
Coop was Blaine's real father. When the beatings weren't ruling their lives Cooper would show up like a forgiving summer breeze in the country. If Blaine was been hurt by one of the stable boys or if a young lady snubbed him the day before, his older brother was there to show the boy a new part of the symphony that still remained unfinished and remind him that nothing in the world mattered more than who Blaine wanted to be.
Cooper Anderson had been all that was good and strong in the world. He had taught his younger brother how to be a man; and now he was gone. Cut down by some lumber jack infected with the venom of an arachnid.
"Cooper." Blaine whispered trying to erase the memory before his anger took hold of him once more.
"If you'd like, we could do this another time, sir." The release of Kurt's soft voice seemed like a bandage somehow, wrapping itself around the pain and hurt.
"No, now's fine." His ringlets bounced slightly as his canary escorted him to stand in front of the four newest members of the Anderson household.
Gesturing to the people in front of the honey eyed man, Kurt began the introductions.
The head maid was an African woman by the name of Mercedes. When asked about her name the heavy woman informed her master that she had been born in Spain, but was transported to Britain when she was a child. Blaine liked the woman as soon as she began to speak, Mercedes had a presents that wasn't seen in Englishmen, much less blacks.
Next were the gardener and grounds keeper. The two men where taller than both Blaine and Kurt, but the gardener was sized nearly with the stylish butler, standing about a half foot shorter than the ground's keeper. He had chocolate tea colored hair with spotlight eyes that made whatever he glanced at illuminate with the blue-green essence of the orbs.
This man was shy and looked to the blonde standing next to him to give his proper name.
"Rory." The blonde said. "Sorry sir, he's quite shy. You see he's from Ireland and has a terrible experience with getting work here because of his accent. His last master beat him if he spoke too loudly."
"And you would be?"
"Grounds keeper Sam at your service." The man said excitedly giving Blaine a bright smile and creating some dance move that didn't seem the least bit refine. "I'm from America, but I didn't like it there so I migrated to Britain." He said moving the shaggy blonde hair out of his face. Blaine crossed his arms and painted his look of pure un-amusement across his face.
"Kurt."
"Yes master."
"Once these introductions commence please cut that god awful hair of his."
"Certainly."
"What? Sir I-" Kurt silenced the man with a look Blaine could not see.
"Excuse me master, but when do I get to sing for an audience? You see Kurt promised that I would get to sing because you're the head of Anderson Company right now. So-" A perfectly manicured, tan hand came to the girl's face with the force of ten men. The sound of blood vessels bursting under the Jew's skin made the shy Irish boy quiver into grounds keeper, Sam's, side.
"You are arrogant." Blaine stared into the whimpering girl's shit colored eyes. "Who the hell said I was going to let you sing at any of the Anderson's functions? What is your name girl?"
"R-Rachel Berry." She told quietly.
"Your position?"
"Scullery maid."
"Pathetic." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you think singing for Anderson Company will make you a better human being or raise your status? Well you're wrong." Blaine walked down the line of four surveying the new servants chuckling at the status of them all stopping only once the woman named Rachel Berry let her hand drop to her side.
"Why them Kurt?"
A white gloved hand snapped the instant before Blaine's eyes went wide with the harmonies that assaulted his ears. The quartet was singing the latest popular symphony in perfect timing. It was beautiful. The curly haired man closed his eyes and watched as sheet music disintegrate from the world and was replaced with these voices that brought music to life.
Color returned to the world as they added musicality to the song. Sam held up the bass and made sure to hit every moving note as crisp as decaying leaves in the fall. The man that had a moment ago been curled up in the blonde's side came to life through his voice, pushing the tempo and adding the cool tones to this musical portrait. Mercedes powered through the staccato's with fury and passion before her crescendo to the climax of the piece. It was Rachel that surprised him the most, she was talented for sure and kept the melody as pretty and connected as the three instrumental sections would have.
Blaine felt a bit bad that he had hit her so hard and wanted to apologize; then he opened his eyes and decided that she had deserved it. The little optimist really did piss him off, he couldn't place why, but her face just rubbed him the wrong way. This was the only use she'd ever be, Blaine thought before again closing his eyes and intently listening to the rest of the piece.
As Rory and Sam finished singing the final, two note, chord Blaine was convinced that they all needed to stay, if only for this purpose.
"Well?" Kurt asked bowing to his master.
"Kurt it was scarlet and wonderful. How did you find them?" He asked wrapping his arms around the dirty blonde butler's waist.
"You're command was to find servants that would best suit Anderson house was it not?" The doll face man told circling his fabric clad arms around Blaine's neck. "Singing isn't all they can do my lord." The sensual phrase earned Kurt the remarkable sensation of smelling Blaine's arousal. For the first time in memory this unique butler smiled, showing every single one of his tiny baby teeth. "I live to serve the house of Anderson." Kurt told uncoiling his arms from the master's neck.
"Set the table for lunch Mercedes." Blaine commanded.
"Yes sir." Soft clicking noises from the heavy woman's shoes could be heard even after she made her speedy exist.
Kurt speedily gave the other three servants their chores for the rest of the day. The master didn't listen to what his butler was saying, yet Blaine couldn't help watching the man's lips and the way the movement from his diaphragm played with the rest of the muscles under his skin. If it were up to the curly haired boy, Kurt would be placed upon a grand alter completely bear for only his viewing pleasure.
Turning from the man dressed entirely in black beside the yellow scarf around his neck, Blaine punched the bag with as much force as he could muster. Again Blaine had to turn to see the porcelain face that was slowly becoming his world.
Once Kurt was finished giving the staff their orders he ushered his master out the exercise hall. They walked listening only to the sound of shoes dancing heavily over the evergreen carpet that extended the massive hallway. Blaine came to a complete halt in front of a very plain looking door before staring at the butler in expectancy.
With the swift click of the turning door handle Kurt ushered his employer into the well lit study.
The curls around Blaine's face bounced lightly as he walked to opposite side of the room to sit at the imported desk. Sitting at the great span of wood underneath his chest the tan boy glanced at a few papers that he had been dabbling with before the desire of destruction over took him. He skimmed through invoices and notices from his factories around Europe and multiple Lords wanting him to attend their balls and private parties.
Anderson Company was notorious for not only designing instruments and jump starting the careers of musicians, but also their very rare performances. Every one in the Anderson family could play an instrument and/or sing. They were a family of performers that had, for generations, been respected solely because of their reputations of marvelous musical spectacles.
Blaine snickered at some of the invitations. Many of them were pleading with him and breaking the tradition of Englishmen by revealing the expenses many of these nobles had spent on their parties or giving him the guest list. None of this impressed Blaine enough to actually answer any of the letters or even to go to the balls.
He pushed the pile of invitations off the desk onto the floor. Later he would order Rachel to clean it, but now he had other things to worry about. With a wicked smile Blaine went back to his 'important business'.
"Sir." Kurt spoke firmly.
"What is it?" Blaine's head was buried in some paper work that needed to be sent to a factory near Oxford in the morning.
"There's another invitation."
"Throw it away. I'm not going anywhere this season Kurt. I have one goal for the season and so should you."
"Of course your right sir, but this is from Phantomhive Manor." Kurt tried to explain to his stubborn master.
Tilting his head, Blaine showed the dark spots in his eyes. He loved his butler beyond words but at the moment he would hurt anyone who annoyed him enough. This fact didn't escape Kurt, and although the porcelain doll had no worries of being hurt, he was, for the time being Blaine's subordinate. "Does that mean anything special Kurt?"
"The young Earl Phantomhive is the only member of the house that remains and has accepted the position as the Queen's guard dog."
"Get on with it then" Blaine shook his curls.
"Master he may know something about Cooper's death."
The shorter man visibly flinched at the way Kurt said his brother's name. The way the butler's soft voice played at every syllable of the word that pissed Blaine off. Every word uttered from Kurt's mouth up until this point had been made of a crystal that unabashedly shown it's reflecting rainbows on anything and everything that crossed its path, but now the that crystal cut a jagged hole in it's master.
Unconsciously dropping the fountain pen his hand had held Blaine eased himself away from the desk. He could see himself moving from his work and closer to the unflinching butler, but could not feel the balled fist or shaking legs that carried him to his canary. The ghost of a figure stood to look up at Kurt before throwing a punch that the paler boy easily dodged. This was all Blaine needed to go into boxing mode.
"Have I displeased you in some way?" Kurt asked, never hitting his master but allowing the man to tire himself out.
"You said his name." Blaine panted. "Damn you! You said his name!" He threw another punch, jabbing and retreating the way he was formally taught to. The noise of their shoes was muffled against the carpeted floor as Kurt kept dodging him fueling the man's anger.
"I am sorry Master."
"Be still damn it!" Blaine screamed. "I command it!" Stopping dead in his tracks, Kurt looked at the master who was now trying to decided if he wanted to hit the beautiful man or not. There are other ways to hurt boys, his father's smug voice came into his mind. "I'm not him." A tortured whisper escaped his rose colored lips before cupping the canary's swan neck and kissing him hard.
Filled with anger and a strange sense of want Blaine harshly moved moved his lips against Kurt, trying to move the man to get a better grip at him. The pressure in the boy's lungs became greater as lust tried to taking over his muscular body, his butler didn't give off any remote twitch to aid Blaine in the endeavor. The shorter tanner male continued to rip at the butler's clothes, shredding the black garments to pieces and not caring as they littered the ground, while the servant stood as still as a statue waiting for the master's desire to subside.
It wasn't long before Blaine gave up. The heat racing to his loins hadn't lessened, but he knew the frustration of not being able to take what he wanted was going to bubble over soon and he wanted nothing more than to make Kurt happy. He'd just take his anger out on someone else, someone like Rachel Berry.
"Satisfied?" Kurt asked, carefully retrieving a yellow scarf from the floor to wrap around his pale neck.
"No." He answer plainly while thrusting his hand down the, now, tight fitting trousers.
"Would you like me to handle that for you?"
"Now you're just being smug." Blaine lifted the left side of his mouth in amusement. "Well then, what is it about Phantomhive that has you in a tizzy?"
Kurt went on to explain the tragedy that consumed Ciel Phantomhive's family. Kurt had learned that Phantomhive was quite a deal younger than most Earl that were awarded with such outstanding reputation as the Queen's right hand and guard dog, even Scotland Yard was impressed with the secretive earl. Compared to the Phantomhive manor the Anderson house was an open book, just waiting to be read.
"Phantomhive," Kurt voiced, "is also head of England's leading developer in toys."
"Which means..."
"You maybe able to hit two birds with one stone," the paler man glanced toward the window to see two canaries cheerily chirping and flicking their heads in shock and awe, "pardon the expression," he apologized. Kurt had to resist the urge of giving into Blaine as the smell of pre-come faintly entered the wide space. Readjusting the scarf around his neck the man tried to ignore scent while continuing with his explanation. "You can offer him a merge between Phantomhive and Anderson. His music boxes could be filled with your works, master." He said this uncomfortably quickly, giving Blaine something to smile about.
"Am I bothering you Kurt?"
"Not at all." He said with all the refinement in the world.
"Fine we- ah!" Blaine continued to play with himself, releasing the desire, and and frustration he would never have been able to rid himself of without it. "Shit." He mumbled as the heat bloomed in his stomach and his release began. The boy arched slightly reaching out to lean on his butler as he came without shame.
Retracting his hand from the white trousers the young duke lifted the thing for his viewing pleasure with a sigh of gratification. Circling his thumb around the index and middle fingers, Blaine admired what he had done. Kurt's cool demeanor was still intact to the naked eye, but the master knew what was happening in that little demonic body of his.
"Open." Blaine instructed before placing the two, come laden, fingers into the moist cavern of his servants mouth. "We will attend Phantomhive's ball. When is it?"
"Toe-nitae." Kurt tried to say between licks of his master's essence.
"What?"
"Tonight."
Blaine was annoyed with the sticky, drunk people who were hell bent on dancing with their wives and escorts while looking at the maid with magenta color hair and thick spectacles. This was why he didn't attend balls, they reminded him too much of his father. The tan boy stood on the out skirts of the floor watching as the head butler of the manor walked through the crowd making sure everyone was having a wonderful time.
The man was dressed as well as any butler of the time and almost surpassed Kurt's beauty. His skin was flawless and only a shade darker than snow, the inky colored, longer than average hair never fell onto the butler's skin as if it was a precious jewel that nothing was allowed to touch.
"Do you like him?" Kurt asked handing Blaine a glass of wine before crossing his arms and leaning on the wall.
"Would it bother you if I did?"
"You are the master." Kurt adjusted his scarf.
"That does not answer my question Kurt Hummel. Introduce me to him as well as his master."
"Yes sir."
Blaine watched as the canary flew to the Earl's butler's side, dodging a few drooling females along the way. Despite the grand smile Phantomhive's butler have Kurt, the scarfed man seemed to tense at the contact of their space. He turned away from the scene to look around the hall once more. There was a boy dressed in blue dancing with a blonde girl with huge eyes. Blaine was quite envious of the two, if they did care for each other, it seemed innocent and pure. The boy was looking into her soul with no pretense or want, it was just them in a hall filled with drunken boisterous people. How lovely.
"Master." Rachel said, eyes cast to the ground. "What are we to do?"
"Your time hasn't come yet." He wasn't speaking directly to Rachel, but decided to set his attentions on Mercedes, who clearly felt uncomfortable in this hall of laughing buffoons. "When I give you the signal you will sing. Until then mingle with some of the other servants that are standing around."
"'ello!" A man with strawberry blonde hair greeted Blaine unexpectedly, almost knocking off balance. "Oh! I'm sorry ma' lord. I didn't mean to-"
"Finny, honestly." the woman with magenta hair came to restrain the man. "We are sorry sir. Sometimes he doesn't know his own strength." The woman's voice was shrill.
"Well...that's alright..I guess."
"Really sir, sorry." The man called Finny went scarlet and scratched the back of his head, which was all types of adorable in Blaine's mind. "It's only that-" he paused.
"What is it?"
"I heard you say they could mingle with the other servants...and...well we're servants"
"Yes?"
"May we confiscate the one with brown hair and the eyes that sparkle." the woman said.
"I don't care, do what you'd like with him."
"Thank you sir." The pair bowed together. Blaine dismissed the two servants and faintly heard Sam protest against letting Rory go alone.
"You may go with the puppy Sam, but as soon as you hear Kurt have your asses back here." The master told without turning to look as the quartet bowing and thanking him. Chuckling under his breath, Blaine considered Sam's protectiveness of Rory just as pure as the children that had been dancing on the floor.
Again the tan boy scanned the crowd, but instead of look to his butler or the charming child couple he was met with a sea absent of beauty and innocence. Where was Kurt and why didn't he believe this disappearance wasn't an accident.
"Kurt." His name was barely a thought when a white glove touched his shoulder. Blaine knew before he turned that the hand belonged to his butler. His shoulder's relaxed as he felt the canary's silky voice against the hollow of his neck just below the ear.
"He's thirteen my lord." The man warned.
"Excuse me sir." Another irresistible voice entered into Blaine's ear. "I am Sebastian Michaelis, head butler of Phantomhive manor and this is my master Ciel Phantomhive." The tall man introduced the same boy in blue Blaine had been admiring earlier.
Ciel Phantomhive was even more interesting up close. The patch over his left eye was something that had alluded the seventeen year old earlier, however it was cute on the young boy. Like the butler, the boy was pale and beautiful, with longer than average hair. Blaine liked Ciel already, he was just too damn cute not to fall in love with.
"Uh-huh" Kurt nudged his mastered gently. "Lord Phantomhive may I introduce my master and head of Anderson Company, Blaine Anderson."
"Pleasure." Lord Phantomhive jutted his hand forward for Blaine to accept.
"The pleasure is mine." Blaine answered still obsessing over the cuteness of this boy. Dark hair azure blue eye and proper, this was Blaine's son!
"My lord do you feel ill?" Sebastian's baritone, made the tan boy's trousers tighten unexpectedly.
"No, no I'm fine. I am sorry, I'm a bit tired." Kurt coughed at the obviousness of his master's erection. Why couldn't he contain himself around beautiful men? "I wish to make a business arrangement with you my lord." The man finally got out.
"What type of arrangement?"
"I understand your company makes toys and music boxes." Blaine was gathering his manipulative mind finally.
"Yes."
"Our company specializes in all aspects of music. We have even expanded to America and created a school of music called Dalton Academy to ensure our quality of music and musical minds are unmarred."
"How very interesting Lord Anderson, but what does this have to do with my company?"
"I was hoping that we could create a merge between our two companies, instead of buying the rights to different tunes and melody's of the same type of songs from symphonies, why not buy original music from me and my company to complete your music boxes?"
Ciel looked to Sebastian before nodding his head then inviting Blaine to walk with him to his study. The two masters dismissed both butlers and continued their journey with each other. Without a word they navigated the crowd until they were well away from the guests, then proceeded to walk up the stair case.
"I enjoy this idea" Ciel told, "but I need to listen to a few pieces before I can make up my mind."
It was as the thirteen year old was speaking that the band had stopped playing and Kurt snapped his fingers gathering the attention of an easily sobered crowd. The young boy's ears twitched under the pressure of unexpected silence.
"I have already arranged a demonstration for you my lord." Blaine gently placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Without notifying me?"
"I could not, it would not be memorable if you knew now would it? If you'd excuse me for a moment." Blaine made a short leap to the ballroom floor disrupting a few shy ladies in the process. "My apologies." He tipped his head as if he was wearing a top hat.