Author's Note:

Wow. You guys are AMAZING! Truly, I was so worried about finding an audience under a brand new name and you guys just blew me away.

This story has a tumblr, AlexoftheGarden. I will be posting pictures from chapters (a few days after the chapter is posted) plus some other fun tidbits. So please check it out!

One warning I forgot that I wanted to mention as soon as possible even though it doesn't come in until later, just in case it's difficult for some of you. Though Finn has already passed away in this story, he is still very much present in the memory of others.

My beta remains amazing, truly.

There are flashbacks in this chapter in italics. And for the anon who asked, as you can see, the remainder of the story will be much longer chapters than the prologue :-)

There is no difference between you and me
It lies beyond our history
And if we only take the time to see we're all we need
Just take my hand, and see me as a brother

~ A Great Big World

The first time Blaine was spanked he was five years old and had run out into the street after a ball, narrowly missing being hit by a car. He'd cried in his room for hours after that, far more out of guilt and shame than any lingering pain he may have felt. His father finally came upstairs and assured him everything was okay and he was forgiven and he'd wrapped himself up in his arms and fallen asleep.

That was their first sign.

The second time he was ten years old and had been sent home from school after getting into a full out hand to hand brawl with Santana Lopez about the legitimacy of Hanson as musical genius. He'd asked for it that time and the moment his father was done with him he went on his own the five houses down the street to apologize. He rang her doorbell and when she answered he fell to his knees at Santana's feet. She'd carded her hand through his hair, kissed him on the forehead in forgiveness and invited him upstairs to listen to "real" music. He blushed and followed and was introduced to the world of Latin culture.

They were inseparable ever since.

And that was their second sign.

Because from the moment Santana Lopez was born there was absolutely no doubt in anyone's mind that she was a Dominant.

"That's really what you're going to wear to your best friend's Quinceañera Blaine?"

Blaine stared at himself in the mirror. He was wearing khakis and a button down and he thought he looked appropriately dapper. He looked to his round faced friend who was, as always, dressed to perfection. "What's the matter with it Trent?" His forehead wrinkling with scrutiny. "Santana's not gonna care what I'm wearing."

Trent smirked knowingly. "Like hell she won't. You could at least throw on a bowtie. Come on, this could be the party that changes our whole lives," he winked eagerly.

Blaine laughed. "You really think you're gonna find the Dominant of your dreams at a 15th birthday party?"

Trent smirked. He knew not everyone could be as lucky as Blaine and Santana to find their soulmates so young, but lightening could hit in close proximity, couldn't it? "I think that if a knight in shining armor comes in and sweeps me off my feet I might kneel to him that very moment."

Blaine went still. He looked at Trent through the mirror then turned slowly. "You can't be claimed by another man." He'd never heard of such a thing. He'd never even considered such a thing. But now that he had…

"Of course you can," Trent said with an easy smile. "My parents say you can love whoever you love. And the love of my life is a knight who will always protect me."

"Blaine." Blaine looked up, still wide-eyed from this bombshell Trent had dropped on him. His father's voice was tense in the doorway. "Trent, why don't you wait downstairs, I need a minute alone with Blaine."

Trent's lips grew taut as he glanced sideways at his friend. Blaine had no idea why he might be in trouble but it seemed extremely likely given the visible pulse in his father's neck. Trent had been around long enough to know it too and frowned sympathetically before heading down the stairs without another word.

Blaine started to speak but his father interrupted him. "I don't want you listening to that boy," he said firmly.

"Is it true? That men can claim other men?" He didn't really know why his heart was beating so fast but the look on his father's face only made it faster.

"Not in Ohio, no. And even if it were legal it doesn't make it okay. Nor is it something you are ever to talk about again," he ordered. "A man belongs with a woman. I think this will be Trent's last visit to the house. He's a poor influence on you."

Blaine wanted to protest. Trent was one of his best friends. But he knew his father's Dom look and he knew protesting would only get him into trouble he wasn't feeling at all like instigating. He would still see Trent at school and at other friend's houses. He bowed his head respectfully. "Yes sir," he agreed.

"Good. Now go downstairs. I'll drive you both to Santana's party instead of your mom. There's something I need to talk to her mother about anyway." Blaine did as his father said and he and Trent were silent the entire way to the party.

He was promised to Santana the next day.

It was the middle of Warblers rehearsal when the text chimed on his phone. Glancing at Wes as he sang, knowing he was about to piss off exactly the wrong person to piss off in the Warblers, Blaine broke out of the choreography and sang his way over to his cell. He kept singing as he picked it up and swiped it, but when he saw the message from Quinn he stopped.

From Quinn to Blaine: Santana's in trouble, she needs you now.

He didn't skip a beat.

"Blaine-" Wes protested when he saw their lead singer gathering his things and slinging them across his shoulder.

"Sorry Wes, but I have to go. You guys work on the backup vocals and I'll see you tomorrow," he yelled as he raced out the door. He knew there was grumbling behind him but he was needed far more across campus. He ran all the way to the small stone bridge that connected Dalton Academy to Crawford Country Day School and signed in quickly with the staff on duty. Then he took off in the direction of the gym where Santana had cheerleading practice.

Boys were allowed on the girls' campus after classes were over until dark and Blaine had been there often enough for most of the girls to know him. Because everyone knew Santana Lopez; youngest captain of the cheerleading squad, lead vocalist in the school's choir, and now promised to one of the hottest and most wanted subs at Dalton Academy. So when they saw him running straight toward the gym a crowd of curious onlookers followed, knowing that something exciting was happening. Because Santana was also extremely well known for her temper.

Her voice rang out above the rafters and out the door. "I don't give a rat's ass whether she weighs half a pound less than me, I will be damned if I am going to let this richy bitch poor excuse for a cheerleader at the top of my pyramid."

"You're the poor excuse Lopez, you get on top of that pyramid and it'll come tumbling right back down," Sugar, a tiny cheerleader with a not so tiny voice, shouted back.

Blaine got to the door to find the cheerleaders gathered around nervously and Santana going in for the strike. She lunged forward but she couldn't reach her target when the coach grabbed Santana around her waist. "This is completely unacceptable behavior Lopez."

"No what's completely unacceptable is you giving my spot on the pyramid to a girl whose Daddy bought it for her," Santana shrieked wrestling out of the coach's arms to confront her directly.

"Those decisions aren't yours Santana," the coach snapped. "The decision is mine and if you can't handle that then you're off the team."

If Blaine didn't know any better he would have said that Santana grew 12 inches in that moment, drawing herself up tall, jutting her chin out proudly. Everything went calm about her and Blaine's skin prickled. "Except you can't do that," she said with a smooth confidence, advancing slowly on her coach. He shuddered at the dominance rolling off of her in ways that made his knees almost buckle. "You are nothing but a washed up has been who never even made Nationals until I started leading this rag tag poor excuse for a squad last year. And now we're reigning champions. Thanks to me. Your head cheerleader. I make or break this team," Santana gloated.

"Not any more you don't," the coach answered through gritted teeth, just barely keeping her anger in check. Blaine sucked in a breath, his heart beating quickly in his chest. He knew exactly how important this was to her and he knew that despite her bravado now, Santana would be devastated at losing it. He silently begged her to turn it around. "You're suspended from the team. Three days. Which means you are no longer eligible to be head cheerleader for the rest of your junior year. Congratulations Quinn," she said, turning to their friend in the front row.

"You just watch!" Santana shrieked. Blaine stared at his best friend losing her dignity and he knew he needed to step in quickly. "I'm going to-"

"Santana." Blaine's voice was small as he called her from the doorway, but she immediately shut her mouth and turned to him. Every eye in the room followed hers. His gaze though was on Santana and Santana alone. He stepped toward her, inching his way carefully, with such a spellbinding mix of strength and deference that she was suddenly finding it hard to breathe. Finally he was standing before her, staring hard into her eyes one second then lowering them so his lashes lay beautifully across his lids the next. "You don't have to do this," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please?"

She took a minute, turning to scowl at the eyes that were all on her, but he linked his hand with hers, squeezing it, grounding her and she turned back. He looked up at her, his honeyed gaze dripping with warmth and love and understanding she knew she'd find nowhere else and her eyes fell to their clasped hands.

"Let me walk you home," he said, the words seeming an order but the tone a plea.

Santana could do nothing but nod. He made no move. He held back, waiting for her to lead. With one final look Santana turned her back on her team and guided Blaine to the locker room.

She fell apart the moment the doors closed behind her, crumbling with anger and regret, but Blaine did not let her fall. He led her to the bench and sat her down, kneeling before her as he took off the sneakers she wore only for practice. He opened her locker and took out her clothes, laying them down beside her for when she was ready. And he waited for the tears to stop, a handkerchief in his hand. Finally they did.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," Santana sniffed, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief. "All my life I've worked my ass off to be on top, to make people listen to me and follow me and I need that Blaine, I need it as much as I need air to breathe. If I'm not head cheerleader who am I?"

Blaine sat back on his heels and took her hands. "You are Santana Lopez. My best friend. The girl who sets hearts on fire. And whether you have the squad or not, I promise Santana that I will always make you feel like you are captain of the cheerleading team, coach and top of the pyramid all at the same time. When you need to feel like somebody's paying attention, I will listen. When you need to feel like your words have power, I will obey. And when you feel like you need to rule the world I will submit," he vowed. "Because you will rule my world, Santana."

Santana looked down at him and she wondered what she had ever done in the world to deserve a friend as perfect as Blaine. "Do you know how much I wish I wanted to kiss you right now?"

Blaine closed his eyes and swallowed. For just a moment a faceless person flashed in his thoughts but when he opened his eyes again they fell firmly on Santana. "Yes I do," he said with sadness in his voice. "But we've tried that before and I think we both recall it not going over too well." He wrinkled his nose and she laughed softly, remembering their disastrous attempt. The sound made his heart soar. "So let me just hold you instead?"

Everyone in school had been jealous that Santana and Blaine had found their soulmates so quickly. Not that Santana even really believed in soulmates but Blaine did. And whether soulmates were real or not, that was how they felt, fitting together like hand in glove. The only problem was that try as they might, they never really developed those very special feelings for one another that everyone told them they should have.

Blaine needed Santana and Santana needed Blaine and there was a very strong desire for them to take care of one another. Blaine needed her approval and Santana needed his obedience and in perfect harmony they both needed sometimes for those things to be fought for.

But the other things that they were supposed to need, likes kisses and closeness and all the whispered behaviors their classmates were starting to explore with one another as they grew older, were things that neither of them desired. At least not with one another.

But the one thing that Blaine and Santana had always had with each other was honesty and they understood at least partially what was going on. They watched the news as the contracts and marriages they truly desired were painstakingly slowly legalized elsewhere, but certainly not in Ohio. And never would it be acceptable for the children of the Westerville Upper Crust.

She leaned down as he rose to sit next to her, wrapping his arms around her. Arms so warm and loving that, though she knew she was the one who was meant to protect, she felt nothing but safety. Tears escaped her eyes because it would have been so much easier if they could have just fallen in love with one another. Life was a cruel joke sometimes. "You're my best friend Blaine," she choked.

Blaine kissed her on the forehead. "And you are mine," he whispered.

"I feel like I should be carrying you over the threshold or something," Blaine said with a nervous laugh.

"Pretty sure that's my job, sub," Santana replied, but she didn't make a move when Blaine fit the key into the lock and opened the door for her. Instead she walked inside alone, flipped the switch and gazed for the first time upon their new apartment.

"This cottage is beautiful Blaine," Santana gaped. It was small enough to not seem overwhelming to the couple still very young to be on their own. But it was decorated with a sophistication that matched both of their discerning sensibilities. And it had the privacy they absolutely required. Or at least as close as they would get until they could move to New York City.

When it had been time for them to meet with the Claiming Counselor to develop their contract they had already done their research and knew what they had to do. They were very clear. They knew that every claim was white until the claim was consummated and turned to gold. They knew that white claims could be annulled by the subs' Dominant parent at any time. They also knew there was a little known antiquated exception to that rule in just a few states being whispered about on certain underground equality websites. In places like New York, if the contract itself was written as white, it could not be annulled. Blaine and Santana knew that their parents would never approve. They also knew that it was perfectly legal. And completely confidential.

No one had to know. The ceremony would be public enough. The terms they promised would remain private.

Santana heard the door click behind her and she turned to find Blaine kneeling at the edge of the entry way, head down hands clasped behind his back. She immediately walked over to him, lifting his chin, so their eyes met. "What's the matter sweetheart?" she asked gently.

"I was just afraid you wouldn't like it," he admitted.

"I love it," she promised. "Did you do this all yourself or did your Mom help?"

"Myself," he answered proudly. "I wanted to do it all for you Santana. It's the least I could do after everything you do for me."

"You do so much more for me than you know Blaine," she said softly.

Dominance and submission came as naturally to Blaine and Santana as breathing. Early on in health classes they were taught all the different ways that Dominants and submissives belonged together but neither felt they needed the classes, it was something they knew as well as they knew that the sky was blue. They understood better than most of their friends that it wasn't just about their sexual impulses. A Dom needed a sub, and a sub needed a Dom. It shocked them to learn that a very small percentage of the population lived "in the gray" without any apparent trace of submissive or Dominant hormones. It didn't surprise Blaine that relationships with grays could be dangerous, especially for subs. But none of that mattered to Blaine and Santana. Their own urges were so great, their need for the other so strong, they couldn't imagine ever living without them.

It wasn't that Blaine was meek or passive. He knew exactly what he wanted and when he wanted it. And what he craved was security. Someone to care for. Someone that would hold him accountable. To matter to someone so much that everything he did was a reflection on them. And he wanted to be so good that he lived up to that trust…9 times out of 10. Maybe 8. Because sometimes the firm reminder of expectation felt even better than obedience.

Santana explored the apartment and Blaine followed her. It had been the Anderson guest house before and would be again once Santana and Blaine moved out on their own. But for the rest of their senior year it was theirs and she felt a strong need to know every nook and cranny. The kitchen was small but had the latest appliances. The living room was carpeted in a beautiful white, a handsome sofa placed center, backed with dark rich mahogany wood but upholstered with warm russet leather. The arm rests were thick and low. Her mind swam with possibilities.

The sofa faced a softer edged part of the room lined with white bookshelves full of books and knickknacks. One corner housed a gorgeous lamp. The other corner was bare. She glanced over to Blaine who was also staring at it, a naughty glint in his eye, his lips turned up just slightly. Marking his territory with a stare. She smiled softly. He truly was the perfect sub.

"Show me the bedroom?" she asked him, eyes sparkling.

He led the way to the single bedroom and once again knelt by the door, watching her carefully while she scrutinized it. He had filled it with all of her favorite things and lined her dresser with all of the perfumes and beauty products he had learned she'd loved over the years. A brand new wooden hairbrush sat center on a round mirror tray. Blaine bit back a proud grin as she ran a single finger over it in approval. She turned to the bed, made up in her favorite colors and looking so comfortable and luxurious that she threw herself right down on top of it. But at the feel of the mattress she sat up and pulled the covers back. Instead of the King size bed she'd requested, two twins were pushed together. She stood up, angrily shoving them apart and folded her arms across her chest. "This does not look like a King, Blaine," she said sternly.

"No ma'am," Blaine responded his hands unconsciously shifting behind his back. "I pushed together the twins that were already here. That way we can pull them apart at night. I know what you asked for, but then we'd lack our own privacy."

"So you deliberately disobeyed me?" Blaine lowered his head at her words, a tiny smile gracing his lips, but he said nothing. "We'll lack our privacy anyway Blaine, separate beds in the same room won't fix that. You're forcing your Dom to sleep uncomfortably every night and we'll have to put it back together every morning in case someone comes in. Or rather you will," Santana snapped. She took a step toward him and raised his chin for their eyes to meet. The smile was immediately banished at the disappointment in her eyes. "You will get us a King size bed. If you are so desperate for privacy then you may sleep on the couch."

"Yes ma'am," Blaine said. His ducked his head once again and his face grew red under her reproach. But his heart quickened with anticipation. "I'm sorry."

"For your behavior you will see exactly how small one of these beds is." She kicked one out to separate them further. "Lie across it."

With a blush on his cheeks he rose to his feet, took his shoes off and did exactly as he was told. At the foot of one of the twins he laid down, his head hanging over one edge, his legs falling over the edge of the other. His eyes were turned toward her and he watched her pick up the hairbrush that had been waiting just for this very moment.

When Blaine had suggested that they move into the guest cottage on his parents' estate instead of staying with her family their final year of school, Santana had balked. Even she struggled with breaking custom that they take up residence in the home of the Dominant partner. Not to mention the fact that they were literally in the backyard of the one person who would scrutinize everything and wouldn't hesitate to rip them apart while he could if he even suspected a white contract. But it had taken exactly one infraction in her parents' home to realize that their secrets could not be well hidden out in the open. And in the end Santana had agreed that they were safest on their own with eyes not on them all the time and the privacy to find their own way.

"Because this was clearly purposeful and you do not need the time to think about what you've done wrong, you will count for me," Santana directed.

"Yes ma'am," Blaine sighed only seconds before the wooden brush smacked down atop his jeans. After the first three he felt like he was floating. After the next three he felt like he belonged. And after the last three he felt like he was home.

The door clicked open and Blaine ran to it, immediately grabbing Santana and swinging her around in his arms.

"Put me down you idiot," she laughed as she swatted him on the arm. He did as he was told and grabbed her suitcases for her while she closed the door. "You don't have to do that," she told him.

"I know I don't," Blaine said happily. "But I want to. I missed you." He carried them into her room, Santana following him, and flung them on the bed, opening them so he could unpack for her. "So how was the competition, tell me everything!"

"Well, we won of course, due in large part to Quinn and me," she gloated. She sprawled out on the bed, one leg crossed over the other and just watched him. They'd been apart less than a week but she'd almost forgotten just how beautiful he was. "And I met this girl Brittany. She is just the sweetest most honest and innocent thing in the world Blaine, you would just love her," she grinned up at him. "And she's an amazing dancer, you two would perform so well together."

Blaine blushed and shook his head dismissively. "I'm not that good a dancer Santana."

She scowled but her voice was playful. "Yes you are, don't make me punish you for not trusting yourself. Or me."

"Yes Ma'am," he said with a grin. He pulled out the toiletries she'd packed and arranged them on her dresser just how she liked them on the tray beneath her mirror. "So where's this Brittany from?"

"She's actually from Lima, she cheers for the Cheerios at McKinley," Santana said. "She's a senior too and get this! She wasn't afraid to tell me that she likes boys and girls. And she plans to go to New York in the fall."

Blaine studied Santana's reflection in the glass, her eyes wide and her voice filled with a giddiness he'd never seen from her before. He couldn't help but smile.

"Aww…you like her," he cooed.

"What?" Santana snapped up, folding her arms across her chest protectively. Blaine knew the gesture all too well. "No I don't."

He turned around and leaned back against the bureau. "Yes, you totally do Santana," he grinned. "You should ask her to go out." He went back to his work, finishing up with the suitcases and storing them in the closet.

It took a while for Santana to say anything but sometimes she got like this, when the words she wanted to say frightened her too much. He knew he could coax it out of her if he wanted, submit and plead. But this was more fun. And finally she broke the silence. "What if she doesn't like me?" she worried and Blaine found her rare insecurity fascinating.

"Is she a sub?" he asked softly, turning to her. She nodded hesitantly, but Blaine just smiled knowingly. "Then of course she's going to like you. Every sub at Dalton wants you."

Her confidence returned quickly with his compliments. "Well that's too bad," she smirked, pulling herself back up. "Because I don't want them."

"Yes but you do want her," Blaine asserted and her face gave everything away that he was right. "And every sub at Crawford fawns over you. So when you call this Brittany and ask to meet her for coffee she won't even be able to say no."

Santana studied him carefully and he stood strong against her scrutiny wondering exactly what she was looking for and if he'd be able to meet her expectations. "You'd be okay with that? Me asking her out?"

Blaine chuckled. "I want you to be happy. It's a date at the most Santana. It's not like you're claiming her."

It looked like he'd satisfied her and she nodded. "Okay. I'll call her tonight."

"Great!" Blaine beamed, but then his face fell a bit. "Just, you know, if it is a date make sure you go out to Lima where no one who knows us will see."

The weight of the world suddenly came crashing back down on both of them. Eyes were everywhere.

Santana sighed. "Of course. I'll do what we have to do."

"So, where is she?" Blaine stood on his tiptoes the minute they walked into Breadstix, searching out a head of gorgeous blonde hair in a sea of packed tables. Santana had showed him only a few pictures of the girl she was seriously falling for, but he wasn't sure it would be enough to pick her out of a crowd.

"I don't know," Santana said, biting her lip nervously. Dating Brittney had been scary enough. Introducing her and Blaine was frightening as hell. "I don't know if she-"

"Santana!" They both turned at the same time to see the girl in Santana's pictures waving them over from a corner booth. Blaine felt his Dom grab his hand and drag him over to the table. She went to introduce them but apparently there was no need because Brittany immediately swept him into her arms. "Blaine!" she shrieked excitedly. "It's so good to finally meet you, Santana has told me so much about you! She talks about you all the time."

Santana blushed and pulled Blaine down into the booth, sitting next to him and across from her girlfriend. "I do not, hush."

Brittany bent down across the table conspiratorially at him. "Yes she does," she whispered then sat up straight. "And I can see why, you are absolutely adorable."

Now it was Blaine's turn to blush and he propped his head shyly on his hand. "Well you're adorable too," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "And Santana talks about you all the time as well."

"Well I would hope so," Brittany smirked confidently. "I am pretty amazing."

"And modest too," Santana said rolling her eyes.

"Well I only speak the truth," Brittany said and Blaine could feel the flow of dominance from Santana immediately, even before he turned to see the darkening of her eyes.

"Well I should expect so," she warned, her voice low. It made Blaine shiver as it always did and it was obvious it did the same for Brittany.

The waitress interrupted them. "Are you guys ready to order?"

"Yes," Santana said closing her menu. "She will have the shrimp scampi, he will have the honey chicken salad with angel hair and I will have the spaghetti Bolognese. Water for all of us, and a basket of breadsticks, please."

Brittany leaned in and whispered, "Santana may I have a salad too?"

"Certainly love," she said, touching Brittany's hand lightly then looking back up to the waitress. "She will also have a house salad, oil and vinegar please."

"Thank you," the waitress said as she gathered the menus then left.

"So Blaine, Santana tells me you sing for the Warblers?" Brittany asked.

Blaine couldn't help but grin. "Yes! I think we've competed against Lima before. New Directions, right?"

"Yup!" Brittany beamed proudly. "I choreograph for them for the competitions and I've danced with them too. We competed against you guys two years ago I think?"

"Yeah, the year Vocal Adrenaline won." Blaine tried to remember the set that New Directions had done, but he had probably been backstage during it. "I would love to see you dance."

"We should go to a club sometime," Brittany said, her eyes alight.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Just what I need, the two of you loose in a club," she smirked.

Brittany winked at Blaine and he grinned back. He was pretty sure that having Brittany around was going to be fun.

6:30pm. He glanced at the clock once more before opening the oven just a tiny bit to make sure the casserole wasn't burning. Santana had been due home thirty minutes ago. He'd gotten home from school and Warbler rehearsal two hours prior and she'd said she was just going out to coffee with Brittany.

He'd texted her, but he hadn't wanted to seem needy and when she said she'd be home at six he trusted her. But now he just paced, praying she was safe. And that the casserole wouldn't burn.

The click of the door announced her entrance and he waited, hearing the tiny sounds he knew all too well by now. The jingle of the keys hung up on the hook. The swish of her sweater as she swept it off and onto the coat rack. The tap of her heels coming toward him. He settled his heart, trying desperately to let the anger and worry subside before she entered, focusing instead on the casserole he could finally take out of the oven. Not burnt, but probably by only a minute.

"Hello sweetheart," Santana said entering the kitchen, her voice lilting beautifully other than the expectant hint in her voice. An expectation of greeting that hadn't come.

And now that she was here, he found he wasn't feeling very welcoming anymore. "You're late," he snapped without looking at her. He reached up to the counter and grabbed them both plates. "The casserole is nearly ruined."

"I'm sorry, I lost track of time," she said, but her voice was hardening and he knew if he looked at her that angry lines would be starting to form on her brow. "I'm sure the casserole is fine."

He spooned their portions onto their plates and brought them over to the table, serving her first before sitting in his own seat across from her. "So are you gonna share why you were late or just let me stew about it," he asked. He pushed the fork around his plate, his stomach churning too much to eat. He knew he was being fresh. He knew he was asking for trouble. In the moment he didn't care.

For some reason though she didn't even reprimand him and he should have known then that something was wrong. But his own storm of emotions were a wall to hers.

"I asked Brittany if I could claim her," Santana said softly.

Blaine dropped his fork. His stomach lurched. He hadn't looked at his Dom since she'd arrived home but now he finally did and her face was…apologetic? Guilty? But resolved too and something else Blaine didn't recognize.

"No," he declared.

Her eyes narrowed. Her lips grew taut. "I'm sorry Blaine but I don't remember asking your permission," she said slowly and he knew very well her words were a warning but he could barely hear it over his heart thrumming in his head.

Instead he shot out of his seat, the casserole forgotten, flinging his chair out behind him hard enough that it nearly fell. "How could you do this?" he yelled. He couldn't prevent the tears from filling his eyes but he fought like hell to keep them from falling. "Without even telling me!"

"Blaine you need to calm down." She was at his side in a minute, grabbing his hand trying to ground him, but her orders held no sway for him right then. "We've talked about this."

"No!" He snapped his hand away. "We didn't talk about this! We've talked about me falling in love and transferring my claim and you finding a girl that could give you everything I can't, but we didn't talk about you finding her first! And we most certainly didn't talk about you claiming her," he choked, his fear overtaking his anger.

"Blaine," she tried but he would not listen.

"No!" Blaine shouted. "You can't do this."

"Yes Blaine, I can."

"No! I won't allow it!"

Santana stiffened in shock. "You won't allow it?" her voice was dangerous but he was too foregone to realize.

"You're damn right I won't allow it. You aren't claiming her Santana!" he shouted. "You aren't replacing me with that air-headed blonde bitch!"

Santana had to force herself to step back so she didn't strike. "Corner!" she commanded instead, pointing harshly. "Now!"

He realized just a second too late that he'd gone too far and he knew that she had given him more than enough chances. Still his pulse raced with anger and his limbs were shaking as he made his way to the corner of the living room he'd made his own.

"Kneel," she ordered. "Hands behind your back, head down."

He did as he was told, kneeling on the carpet, placing his hands palms up one atop the other just above his waistline. But he held his head up in defiance. Because he might be wrong but she was wrong too and disobedience was his only way to punish her.

"Bow your head Blaine. Now," she warned.

He turned his gaze, hard golden eyes piercing hers and for a moment they stayed locked in a battle of wills. But then Santana laid a gentle hand in his curls, caressing them softly before grasping tightly. "Bow your head sweetheart," she whispered with a surge of dominance, and the power of that whisper finally forced compliance.

She waited a minute, watching the tension in his shoulders abate slightly, watching his eyes close under her dominance before pulling her hand away.

"I absolutely will not tolerate your disrespect, toward me or toward anyone else. And I will not tolerate your mistrust." Santana let the words settle in his mind before she continued. "When you have gathered your thoughts and are calm again and ready to have this conversation respectfully you may come accept your punishment and then we will talk. Is that understood?"

"Yes Ma'am," Blaine murmured.

"Good," she said and she left him to his thoughts.

For a moment he thought he might be sick, the reality of what he had just done, the things he had just said settling in him like a ton of bricks. He had sworn at his Dom. He had openly and arrogantly defied her. He had insulted the girl that she loved and he had done it all out of spite and jealousy and a fear that by claiming Brittany he would lose Santana. That she would abandon him and leave him alone to fend for himself or worse send him back to his father's home to find another Dominant to meet his needs. Someone who didn't know him or understand him. Someone he didn't trust at all. And then the tears that had welled in his eyes began to flow because he had broken the first rule of both their contracts. Trust. Trust that she would always care for him and love him and protect him until and unless he had someone else he chose who could give him everything that he needed. Like Brittany could give to her.

Santana would never abandon him but he would also never be able to offer her the things that Brittany could and he believed without a doubt that he would first become a distraction and then a burden. And he had no choice, he couldn't forbid it like he'd pretended he could and he couldn't find someone for himself, not as long as they lived within a stone's throw of his father breathing down their necks. Even after he would be risking everything.

He couldn't deny Santana what he was not allowed to have. Even if he could he wouldn't deny her happiness, her fulfillment, her chance at a golden claim instead of his pathetic surrogate of a white one. He respected her too much. He loved her too much. And he trusted her too much. He trusted her with everything.

His heart sunk to the floor. He should have trusted her with everything.

His pulse began to race, no longer from anger but from shame and guilt and the promise of redemption. The promise that she would give him what he deserved and then all would be forgiven. He sat back on his heels, feeling the electricity of anticipation pulse through his skin from his heart down his body.

With a deep breath he rose from the ground and turned. Santana sat on one end of the living room couch pouring deeply over a book he knew she wasn't reading. On the other end of the couch lay the black lacquered maple wood paddle they'd bought together just days after their claiming ceremony. Silently, he walked over to the low leather arm of the sofa and took his position over it, staring at his hands as they grasped the crease between the soft cushions. In his blurred vision he saw Santana get up and slip the paddle out from beneath him. He waited anxiously as she arranged herself behind him.

"Five for your disrespect. Five for your lack of trust." She spoke without ceremony. Her voice was harsh. It always was during punishment and he expected nothing less. The contrast to her gentleness when it was over was everything he needed.

"Yes Ma'am."

"Safeword?"

"New York," he answered.

The first smack came down, immediate and unforgiving. He sucked in a breath as the pain flared. He barely had time for recovery before the second strike and then the third. Santana had this way of making it feel as though the paddle rained down on him mercilessly but also lingered for minutes with every blow. He squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the cushions tight to keep his balance, to keep his self-respect and accept his punishment with dignity. As he fought his tears with the fourth and fifth and sixth smacks, the heat in his skin roared, but it was a soothing fire, one that reminded him that his behavior mattered to his Dom, that he mattered to Santana. That wanting to claim Brittany didn't change that.

He hardly recognized the tenth and final strike until her hand lay gently on his back and rubbed in soft circles while his breathing normalized again. When he came fully back into consciousness he slipped off the couch, standing shakily before she pulled him into his arms and held him tightly. "I'm sorry," he whispered his voice filled with remorse.

"I know sweetheart." She pet his curls soothingly.

"I just got so scared," he tried to explain.

"I know, shhh…" She held him back and wiped the wetness from his eyes. "I should have known. I shouldn't have sprung it on you like that."

Blaine bowed his head though. "That's no excuse for how I behaved. What I said. Brittany is my friend too."

She smiled warmly. "I'm glad you feel that way. Because you are both very important to me."

His eyes were wide when they rose to meet hers. "I am?"

Santana threw him a scowl. "Don't you dare make me take that paddle to you again Anderson," she teased gently. He blushed at his doubt but she gripped his chin to keep his head from falling. "You are my best friend in the world and my first submissive. Everything I know I've learned from you. Everything I am is because of you. Everything I have to offer her, I offer hand in hand with you. She doesn't want to replace you and I wouldn't allow it. She wants to be a part of what we have."

"She can give you things I can't," he reasoned.

"Of course she can," she smiled. Oh how she loved him, every ounce of insecurity buried beneath an armor of steel. "And you can give me things she can't. Like the fire inside you that burns brighter than the sun," she said proudly. "You will teach her to be stronger. So when you someday leave me I won't be left without a flame to burn me. Because if you haven't noticed, I kind of enjoy the heat," she smirked.

Blaine's eyes twinkled. "You're the one that burns, Lopez," he pointed out.

Santana laughed at that and took his hand, leading him back to the kitchen. "You need something for that burn? Because I kinda think you deserve to feel it for a while."

He smiled with a blush. "I think I do too," he agreed.

"Then let's finish eating," she said and she guided him back to his chair.

He winced as he sat, but immediately his appetite returned and he found himself waiting impatiently as she reheated their dinners. "So Brittany would come to New York with us?" he asked.

"Yeah," Santana answered. The microwave beeped and she brought their plates back over. Blaine found himself diving in. "She's applied to some of the dance schools out there, plus she's auditioning for the New York City Ballet. But even if she doesn't get in we can take care of her."

"If we get into our schools," Blaine said with a grimace.

"You will get into NYADA Blaine," Santana told him, rolling her eyes for the hundredth time. "You may be my sub but you dominate the stage and they'd be insane not to take you. Brittany says two of her friends were accepted last year and you're more talented than both of them."

Blaine scoffed. "Brittany has to say that or you'll put her over your knee," he smirked. The fact that his comment offered his silent acceptance did not go unnoticed by his Dom.

"Oh I'd do far more than that," Santana quipped with a wicked glint in her eye.

Blaine's eyes narrowed curiously. He had no idea what she meant. But he had a sneaking suspicion he was going to find out.

~S~

Look inside, and you will find
Love exists in every kind

Near or far, oh I believe that love will find us there
Through the dark, oh I believe that love will find us there

Oh, there is an answer

Author's Note:

Again, thank you all so much for reading! I would love to read your thoughts, so please leave a review and let me know what you think. And yes, we meet Kurt next chapter. ;)