Keep my heart captive, set me free

by The Queen of Rose

D/s AU - Kurt Hummel had always dreamed of a fairy-tale bond, a perfect, kind and caring Dom. Blaine Anderson had always dreamed of someone who stands out from the boring crowd, someone real, and pure. When their worlds collide, will either of them get what they had dreamed of?

3. Uprooted

Wow guys….just wow…
We are literally floored by the response to this story, your reviews are so sweet and kind and they make us super happy so just keep doing what you're doing because guess what?

Here's chapter 2!

There's a lot of talking in this one and we truly hope it explains the mind sets of our boys. If there's something you feel is unclear just send us a PM or ask away in a review and we'll be sure to explain it for ya :D

Also the middle scene may get a little confusing with the POV changes that haven't been broken up with breaks so watch out for that :)

One more thing…we would like to thank Gina for being amazing and patient and a detail Hitler. Gina you rock :*

Enough of the rambling…read on...

---

"What's taking him so long?" Mae checked her wrist watch for the millionth time since the young sub went back into the hotel to get his vest.

The watch was a small, silver circle on a plain looking, black leather bracelet; it cost next to nothing and the fake silver parts of it stopped being silver ages ago but it was the story behind it that counted.

She was a young girl, fresh out of high school but already with weakened hope who cruised the town looking for something to do to earn some money and help her family out.

She just got rejected at a tiny bakery that rarely had enough flour to make more than a few loaves a day and the owner just couldn't afford to hire anyone else. Mae understood that deep down but it didn't mean the 'no' hurt any less.

Tired physically from all the walking she did that day and mentally from the repeatedly crushed hopes, she hoisted the tattered bag higher on her shoulder as she made her way home; hungry, but not sure if there will be something for her to eat that day.

As she forced one foot in front of the other, giving herself a mental pep talk for every block she passed, she stared at the floor, way too resigned to actually pay attention to where she was going.
Rounding the corner that would lead her to her street she took a step and felt something clink underneath her shoe.

She froze mid step, hoping against hope it's a coin she stepped on so maybe she could pick it up and buy a piece of bread for her family.

Lifting her foot up she glanced at the mysterious object and frowned when she saw a small, feminine looking wrist watch, the silver clock still whole and unscratched and the leather band intact except for a layer of dust turning the band gray instead of black.

Mae took the watch in her hand and turned around, looking up and down the street for someone who might have dropped the item but she found herself completely alone.

Deep in thought, she clutched the watch in her hand wondering what to do with it; inexperienced with those kinds of things it looked valuable and she figured whoever lost it must be feeling awful. Not once did it cross her mind to take it and perhaps sell it for a little money, she just wasn't that sort of person.

Turning it around in her hand she squinted at the barely there inscription and placed it so the glimmering street lamp illuminated the plate with the inscribing on it.

To my beloved Anya
for her eighteenth birthday
Love Dad

She smiled down at the small object a little bit sadly, thinking about how she would have felt if her father had given her something like that and she had lost it.

All of a sudden her head snapped back up and she could clearly see that watch on a delicate wrist, could see the fragile fingers on that very same hand taking the bags filled with vegetables from her and a high pitched, gentle voice thanking her for her help with carrying the groceries.

The only Anya she knew was a middle aged sub woman, living only a few houses away from her; a kind woman bonded to an equally kind Dom, and with a Dom son only a few years older than Mae who she desperately crushed on for ages before getting the information that he was to be bonded to a sub his parents chose for him.

With her hands shaking and her throat dry she practically flew down the street and cautiously stepped in front of the closed door, gathering up the courage to knock.

She was psyching herself up when the door pulled open in front of her and a desperate looking Anya pushed passed her, tears staining her face as she muttered about her lost watch under her breath.

Mae stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder and gave her the item that was so clearly important to her. The woman gasped and hugged the living hell out of her. She screamed to her family about the kindness of the young girl causing her son to come down from his room and see what all the fuss was about.

He saw the young girl standing in his living room and swore he would never ask for anything in his life if the universe gave him the right to call her his.

And the universe did.

He broke off the arranged preclaim and claimed the young girl his mother liked so dearly. The rest, as they say, is history.

They were happy, they loved each other and Anya gave the watch to Mae a few days before she died, claiming it was only right for her to have it after all the changes the small item caused in her life.

She accepted it and hadn't taken it off since.

But never has the time gone by so slowly as it did now; as she stood in front of the flashy hotel filled with hormonal, unbonded Doms just waiting to hurt one of the most exquisite young men she ever had the honor to meet.

Kurt was everything she had ever wanted her kids to be, but as luck would have it she never had any of her own. Which could be the reason she took to Kurt and her husband's niece so quickly. The two of them were like her own kids and as much of a confused little girl Alisa seemed to be sometimes Mae still loved her vibrant personality and infectious smile.

"They must have taken the vest somewhere so he's looking for it. I'm sure he'll be out in no time," Alisa said, reassuringly placing her small hand on the older woman's shoulder.

Mae tried to take comfort in it. "I just have this uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. I think I'll go look for him," she decided to herself with a sure nod and started walking towards the hotel.

"Give him five more minutes. You know Kurt hates when you worry and fuss over him," Alisa tried to calm her down once again and it seemed to work because she came back and leaned against the front door of her van again, picking at her nails anxiously and grinding her teeth.

One minute passed by, then two, three, four and five crept by but Kurt was nowhere to be seen.

"That's it…I'm going in. Stay here and keep an eye out for him in case I miss him," she said and stalked back to the hotel with all the determination a poorer sub could muster when faced with a room filled with upstanding Doms. She and her Dom did fine for themselves and she never wanted for anything but she didn't have money to throw around. They had the necessities and lived comfortably but it took a lot of effort and hard work to keep them that way. It's why she felt so horrible at not being able to offer Kurt a full time job. God did she want to but she simply couldn't finance that and stay above board.

As soon as she set foot into the lobby she knew something was horribly wrong.

The tension in the air was almost deafening in its intensity, the voices flittering around were hushed and secretive but the venom dripping from the words was lethal.

"Who the hell does he think he is…rejecting all the trained, loaded and willing subs for a flea like that…?"

"Did you see his clothes…like it was made from dishrags…?"

"That boy was always an embarrassment to his family…"

"Poor Dana…"

"Poor? This is all her fault…she should have kept that boy on a much shorter leash…"

Mae's head was spinning with all the information she was getting from the hushed conversations.

Dana? Her son? He claimed someone? Someone poor?

…Kurt?

The thought came and flashed in an instant and wouldn't let go once it'd taken hold.

Out of her mind with worry she pushed her way through the crowd mindless of the harsh, condescending glares she was receiving, catching a glimpse of Jared Anderson carrying a glass of water and disappearing with it behind the heavy backstage curtain.

Stilling herself against her own instincts she walked over there determinedly and ducked underneath the curtain flap only to find herself standing in the middle of world war three.

There was shouting, and arguing and screaming and begging and pleading and in the middle of it all, a fragile looking figure sat, curled tightly in a plush armchair, avoiding the eyes of everyone and shaking visibly with fear.

Her heart clenched for him while her ire boiled over her submissive instincts, blanking them out for a few moments. Realizing she was the only ally Kurt had she stood as tall as her tiny figure allowed her and called out to the room in what she hoped was a self assured and confident voice.

"Excuse me?"

The voices around her didn't even stumble as they continued to bicker furiously back and forth.

"EXCUSE ME?" she gave it another, louder try and this time the effect was immediate.

Silence fell over them like a blanket as they all turned widened eyes towards her, exempting Kurt, eyebrows raised in question.

She shuffled on her feet, nervous under their unrelenting stares but she held her head up and kept her eyes fixed on them.

"Who are you?" a woman Mae knew as Dom Dana Anderson asked stepping in front of the people in the room. She tried not to be intimidated.

"My name is Mae. I'm Kurt's boss," she said as she pointed a finger towards the shivering boy who seemed way too out of it to acknowledge her presence at the moment. It was scaring her to be perfectly honest.

"That's his name? Kurt?" a sudden, breathy voice came from behind her and she turned to see young Dom Blaine standing there, hair disheveled, tie unfastened and eyes glowing with fear and nerves. He was a far cry from the picture perfect magazine covers that was for sure, though no less handsome, she absently thought.

She eyed the desperate Dom in front of her, pheromones practically leaking from his pores all over the place like he had no control over them, and debated her answer for a few seconds before replying cautiously. "Yes. Kurt Hummel. We came to deliver the flowers and he forgot his vest, I came to look for him when he took too long. What's going on? Did he do something wrong?" she asked playing as if she didn't hear people whispering about the claim, but deep down hoping she heard wrong.

"Blaine claimed him," Dana said holding back a tired sigh.

"What?" Mae asked, shocked now that rumors became the truth.

"My son claimed young Kurt. And it seems he didn't take to it all that well," Dana explained calmly and glanced at the curled figure, admiring her son's taste despite all the problems he just caused. The boy was absolutely stunning; angelic almost.

"He hasn't said a word since it happened. He's just sitting there and shivering, flinching away from anyone who gets too close," Jared filled her in on the rest of the story and she nodded, knowing how closed off Kurt could be although this was far more extreme than Mae had ever witnessed.

In moments like these there was only one person he would let in that she knew of.

"Did you call his father?" she asked and they turned hopeful eyes to her.

"We couldn't get him to calm down long enough to give us the information. Do you have it?" Dana asked and Mae nodded.

"Of course."

"Then let's get his dad here. Hopefully he can calm him down."

---

Burt Hummel never pegged himself for a smart person.

Sure he knew his way around a car which did next to nothing to his providing abilities since there was a grand total of ten cars in Lima and out of those ten, eight of them had reached the point of unsalvageable. He could also predict football results based on a few, scattered pieces of information he would get from an odd game he saw on his friend's TV and the statistics in the newspaper that reached their side of town a few days late though that didn't do much to improve their fortunes. But he was a master of surviving with what little they did have and he knew how to stretch money so they would never go hungry; though they were never truly full either.

A man cannot really think of himself as smart based on those traits however.

But there was one thing Burt was sure he did better than a lot of people he had the misfortune to meet day in, day out, working as a repair man around town.

Burt Hummel was an amazing Dom and an even better father.

Ever since Kurt was born he knew the boy would be slightly different from the others. He was a peaceful baby, easily soothed and satisfied. He never cried unless he was hungry or in pain, he started sleeping right through the night when he was five months old allowing him and Elizabeth to get some rest as well, he ate regularly and he was a healthy happy baby.

As he grew older his quirks became more obvious as his personality started to develop; instead of running around, collecting bugs and getting dirty with the other boys, Kurt sang and drew and danced and made sure his clothes were properly fitted and clean regardless of the poor quality and occasional holes in the fabric.

It was disconcerting at first he had no shame in admitting, but it was that knowledge that Kurt was special right from the very start that allowed Burt to assimilate to his son's needs and wants so quickly. Instead of getting angry and demanding he did something else, Burt smiled fondly at his son, ready to be the knight to Kurt's trapped princess and to stand steadily as Kurt tried to make him a shirt out of a ball of scratchy fabric the local tailor threw out.

As the years went by the two men got through a lot together, their lives changed, the woman they both loved more than life itself died and Kurt's quirkiness started to irk some people more than it should. They thought Kurt was silly and foolish for his aspirations. His hope. They thought he was defective somehow for not acting like a 'proper sub' should which in this part of Lima meant throwing yourself around for a fix of a Dominant. Burt was never more proud of his boy despite all the naysayers and one thing would never change.

Burt was there for his son no matter what.

He raised Kurt to always be honest with him, to confide in him and to ask for help if he ever got into any sort of trouble.

But Kurt was a good kid, with respect for others, great grades and nothing but praises from every boss he had worked with when he caught a break and got a job. With an exception of Kurt being secretive about his experiences at school he knew everything about his son; who his friends were, what he wanted out of life, what he dreamed of, where he went…

So when the old clock struck eight and his son was still not home he became restless, an odd sense of dread settling over his shoulders and pushing at his chest until his breathing became shallow and labored.

He started walking to the kitchen window that had the perfect view of the street, pushing the curtains away from the glass and peeking out, praying to catch a glimpse of that proud chin tilted up and that purposeful stride that made it so easy to spot Kurt in a crowd. But every time he looked the street was equally silent and empty and covered in the thick darkness that came from their neighborhood being unable to afford street lights.

He continued to walk to and from the window and soon enough the light, uncomfortable tingle became a loud, insistent warning siren wailing in his mind and making him pace the living room floor restlessly.

It was now well past nine and Kurt was nowhere to be seen.

What if someone got to him and did something to him? What if he was hurt and scared and alone somewhere? What if he was forced to…NO! He wasn't thinking like that. Soon enough Kurt will walk through the front door and then he'll be grounded so much his reincarnation won't be allowed to go out and-

God, where was he?

"Burt…" a soft voice sounded from behind his back and he turned around to find Carole looking at him with worry in her warm eyes and a deep frown line etched into the soft skin of her forehead.
In two huge steps he crossed the space between them, wrapping her up in his arms and letting her warm presence soothe him and ground his fears, making his head clearer.

"He's still not home, Carole. He left hours ago and Mae said they should be back by six. He's never late. What if…" he started rambling but she wrapped her arms around him, resting her left palm across his heart.

"No, sir. Don't think that. Kurt is a responsible, smart young man and I'm sure whatever's keeping him is business related. He'll be back soon."

The small woman gave her best shot at smiling comfortingly and trying to come up with something reasonable to excuse her stepson but even she knew it was unlike Kurt to be this late.

She looked into her Dom's tense face and did her best to exude some kind of calm for him. Ever since the moment she saw Burt she knew that he was the man who could give her another chance at happiness.

He was kind and caring and gentle and he loved her and Finn like he was their true Dom and father.
And seeing what an amazing job he did raising his own son by himself made Carole love him even more.

Yes their bond was a companion one but they loved each other and they were a family.
And as a stepmom Carole was starting to feel herself sink into the worry she felt radiating from her Dom despite her efforts to be a strong reassuring base for Burt.

"What if that's not it? What if he's hurt and he can't call for help? I knew I should have saved money for that cell phone," Burt chastised himself letting her go to start pacing again, wringing his fingers together and striding to the window, lifting the curtains again and glancing out at the frustratingly empty street.

The self deprecation rising was almost cloying. He could have worked harder, longer hours, more clients and he could have made more money to buy that phone and make sure Kurt had a way of calling him if something happened to him. But he had a weak heart and he couldn't do it and now Kurt was-

"You know we couldn't afford that and you also know it's not your fault. You work hard but times are difficult and we get by fine. And I'm sure Kurt will be home soon. Please, sir just calm down," Carole begged with her palms squeezing her Dom's shoulders in, what she hoped, was a comforting gesture.
She felt him tense under her fingers as he lowered his head and rested his forehead against the cool window, his breath fogging the glass and obscuring the street that looked completely unwilling to bring his son home.

"God if something happened to him…" he started but the silence in the room suddenly broke with the sound of their old rotary dial phone ringing mercilessly.

Burt ran towards the battered gray machine, ripping the receiver from the phone with such force the whole thing jumped and fell back onto the very edge of the small cupboard it was standing on, dangling threateningly over the edge.

"Kurt!" he yelled into the receiver in panic feeling Carole's arms wrap around his torso, anchoring him to the floor soothingly.

"Mr. Hummel, this is Mae, Kurt's boss…" the soft voice was laced with panic and Burt tightened his hold on the phone as his mind went crazy with the possibilities, his knuckles turning white and the cheap plastic creaking under his merciless grip.

"Mae where is Kurt? Is he okay? Why isn't he home yet?" he fired the questions at the woman, crazy with anguish.

"He's…he's okay…considering…"

"Considering what? What do you mean?" he cut her stuttering off, his Dominant hormones flaring, making him want to punch through the wall.

Carole sensed his anger and she placed her lips on the partly exposed skin of his bicep, kissing him gently and running her hands up and down his trembling arms.

"Look Mr. Hummel, Kurt is not hurt…but something has happened and you should try and get here to the Westerville Hotel if at all possible as quickly as you can-" the florist tried again but Burt was having none of it.

"What happened to my son?" he gritted through his teeth, forcing every ounce of Dominant tone he had to seep into his voice, lacing his question with a commanding sound.

She seemed to audibly struggle. "I don't think we should talk about this over the phone-"

"TELL ME!" he practically screamed at her, forcing her to silence as he listened to her stunned breathing until she took one deep breath and spoke again making his whole world crash around him.

"He was claimed."

His fingers went numb, losing hold of the receiver and letting it crash to the floor, the thin plastic breaking in two and scattering across the floor. His knees gave out underneath him and he sunk to the floor, clutching his head in his hands as he rested his elbows on his thighs.

His son was claimed.

Owned by someone he had never even met and there was nothing he could do about it. He pictured his little boy, bright and confident but so innocent and naive. God he was probably scared out of his mind…

"Sir…"

He was probably crying…

"Sir…"

And asking for his dad…

"SIR!" Carole shook his shoulders and he jumped out of his fear induced trance looking up at her as she smiled bashfully.

"I'm sorry about yelling at you but you should go. There's a bus leaving in ten minutes, if you go now you should catch it in front of Danny's Café."

He blinked at her stupidly before her words registered in his mind and he jumped to his feet, kissing her on the forehead once before running out of the house and towards the bus station, praying to whatever was up there that his son was unharmed.

---

Kurt was lost in a haze.

Claimed.

He didn't want to believe it. Couldn't believe it.

This wasn't happening right?

He could hear the buzz of voices around him and something inside him knew that every word that slipped their lips was laced with hatred and disgust towards him.

Worthless.

Filthy.

Unworthy.

Blood was roaring in his ears alongside the obnoxious chatter from the crowd that seemed to be closing in on them and his legs buckled out from under him as he tried to catch a panicked breath.

Before he could hit the floor strong hands caught him under the arms and pulled him closer but he couldn't look up, his eyes were glued to the floor through numbness and basic instinct surrounded by so many Dominant presences.

There was something so comforting about those arms around him, they were strong, and warm and they seemed to fit around his underweight body perfectly but Kurt knew he couldn't allow himself to feel that way.

He had to protect himself from giving in to the urge to submit.

This wasn't what he wanted.

He was taken against his will and his mind fogged over again in desperate panic to be free to go home again.

"Blaine, I think it's best if we go somewhere more private," a strong female voice suggested from close by and Kurt felt himself get pulled closer still, face pressed into a heated chest and that scent of vanilla and apple laced with something strong and masculine fogged his frazzled mind further. There was a beat of silence.

"Blaine!"

There was a low growl that reverberated under Kurt's cheek and his body tensed, trembling violently.

"Sweetheart he's shaking. He needs to leave here," the same, unfamiliar woman repeated and her words seemed to make the man holding him snap back to reality as his grip on Kurt's body relaxed and the frightening, almost feral growl died down instantly, leaving Kurt confused again.

Who was shaking? Was it him? He tried to feel for himself but it was like his nerve endings were fried and weren't relaying the information back to his brain fast enough to comprehend that's he was being picked up bridal style and carried a short distance before being placed back down in a soft armchair without batting an eye or making the tiniest hint of protest.

He was trapped inside his own head rerunning those few minutes on repeat over and over and over again trying to rationalize. Compartmentalize. Something. Anything.

Maybe he should have just left the vest there.

He should have asked for someone to get it for him.

He should have been smarter and not leave it there in the first place.

He should have done anything except for whatever got him into the mess he was in but he knew it made no difference now.

It was no use because he could feel it. The changes. The effects already showing themselves no matter how slow they came under the icy numbness.

Claimed.

It splintered him; cut him in half and left him fighting with his own mind.

On one hand the very core of him that drove his submissive instincts hooked onto that claim. Hooked onto Blaine and it was forceful and unlike anything he had ever felt before. This need to submit and offer himself up and kneel for God's sakes. A strange newfound exhilaration had rushed through his blood almost addicting in its intensity and it had hijacked his brain and senses long enough to get himself in this mess.

And then there was a larger part of him, the logically rational part as well as the dreamer in him that was horrified and heartbroken over the turn of events.

He could hear the taunts of the Doms at McKinley.

'C'mon Hummel, it's not like anyone would want to claim you even if you were suitable.'

'What Dom would ever want a submissive like you?'

'Just let us have some fun with you.'

'You know you're running out of time, Hummel. Soon enough your sub hormones will make you beg.'

He'd grown up on the stinging insults once he'd started school and though he never let it show they hurt more and more because as time went on it was only proving to be true.

His submissive nature made him jumpy and edgy lately, craving to have someone take care of him and make him feel safe, but he was painfully aware that it'll never happen the way he wanted it to.
His family didn't have the money for a proper bond for him and while he dreamed and hoped and wished upon a star, deep down he had this doubt. This voice in the back of his mind saying it wasn't in the cards for him and he was beginning to get to that point where he was acknowledging it, maybe even a little closer to accepting it if he ever could, and now this had happened.

He'd been claimed… claimed by the worst possible match for him.

God if he could have laughed without it coming out hysterical he would have.

Blaine Anderson was only settling into a bond at long last because he couldn't get away with not having one anymore, but there was no hope in his mind that Blaine would quit the many subs he was sure to have panting after him. Why would he? A bond like this just didn't mean the same to someone like Blaine. It couldn't.

A small part of him told him that it was harsh and cynical to think that way. Prejudiced maybe. But he was living in a world that was run on those principals and though Kurt didn't agree with that, let alone want to be part of the crowd, it was hard to think otherwise when the facts pointed that way. There was no denying Blaine was handsome. He was rich too, the Andersons practically owned Ohio by this point, so with looks, status, money and power it was pretty safe to assume that he didn't hold bonding in as high a regard as someone who could only dream of having that.

It led to the bigger question.

Why him?!

He was obviously poor. Lower classed. Why the hell would Blaine choose him out of a room full of glamorous rich subs all preening for his attention? Was it a joke? He couldn't be serious surely?
Did he think that Kurt would be so swept up in the newly gained riches that he would put up with being treated like garbage?

His body shivered at that thought as his mind accepted that it was probably the most likely of answers.

Kurt was all snarled up in the tangles in his heart and mind. Threads were being pulled every which way and Kurt felt like he was on the edge of snapping.

He wanted to go home. Back to his dad and Carole and even annoying Finn. Back to Jeff and Mercedes and that hell hole school… he started to cry. Could feel the wetness dripping down his cheeks as he stared at the floor in front of him and all he could do was drag his feet up into the armchair and curl around himself as best as he could as he lost himself further into his head and the misery swimming there.

The chill seeping through the windows and under the heavy curtains made him curl up tighter and he wished for the millionth time in the past half an hour that he had been more careful and that he hadn't forgotten his vest.

How he longed for that comforting warmth and softness and the thought of his mom around him.
The desire in him was so vivid he could almost feel the warn fabric wrapping around his shoulders and the familiar smell of cheap laundry detergent filling his nostrils.

His fingers acted mechanically, trying to reach for the soft pockets and he felt his entire body tense when he actually found them, slipping his palms inside and clutching the material desperately, prying his eyes open and realizing his vest was hung loosely around his shoulders and there was someone standing in front of him.

Expecting it to be Mae since she was the only one that knew about his vest he chanced a glance up to thank her, breath hitching when his eyes met melted gold and amber.

Blaine.

The Dom was still holding one end of his vest in his palm, fixing the fabric to fit more tightly around his skinny frame.

"I believe this is yours," his voice was confident if a little shaky and Kurt stared up at him, wide eyed and scared out of his mind but unable to utter a single word.

Blaine watched him for a moment, as if he was giving him time to pluck up the courage to talk but Kurt knew his patience was futile.

Exhaling a deep, resigned sigh Blaine looked at him with something resembling desperation creeping into the gold of his eyes and Kurt saw his hand move towards his face, warm fingertips grazing the skin of his tearstained cheek and making him flinch at the feeling of his skin against his own.

At his sudden jump Blaine drew his hand away as if being burned and he looked at Kurt with sadness that left the sub confused and wondering until he heard that voice again, this time void of all the confidence.

"Please…please don't be scared of me…" he begged and Kurt's eyes snapped back up surprised at the tortured sound that touched his ears.

The feeling of anguish, fear and nerves were rolling off of Blaine in waves and the sub inside of Kurt roared with the need to make him feel better, to fulfil his role and make him happy.

He was about to force himself to say something, anything, when a looming figure darted inside and he felt his world snap back into place, at least partially.

"Dad…" he breathed out his first word in what felt like forever as he jumped to his feet and ran to his father, throwing himself into familiar arms and clinging to him for dear life tears falling freely and lips forming words without consulting his brain before they spilled out.

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry dad…I shouldn't have walked in there but I l-left my vest and n-now I can't go home with yo-you anymore…p-please take me home…" he sobbed, desperately clutching the worn material of the shirt he made for his dad's last birthday with Carole's help on raising the money for fabric and buttons.

Burt held his son tightly, sending murderous glares at the group of people gathered around Kurt and looking at him in confusion and obvious discomfort.

They let his son work himself up to the edge of a panic attack without moving a finger to help him calm down and Burt wanted to kill them for leaving him to fend for himself in that state.

Picking the teenager up in his arms he made his way towards an armchair in the far corner of the room, away from prying ears and eyes of unwelcomed strangers.

He sat down placing his son on his lap and running his rough palms over his trembling arms.

"Kurt... Kurt buddy I need you to calm down okay?" he whispered into his ears hoping for some kind of response but Kurt just held tighter and cried more desperately, hiding his face from him.

"He's g-gonna take m-me away…d-don't want to go w-with hi-him…d-don't l-let him…" he hiccupped so miserably Burt swore his own heart broke at the sight of him.

"Bud you know that's not how it works. Kurt please just stop crying and look at me," Burt pleaded one more time and Kurt shivered in his arms, sniffling for another ten minutes before managing to marginally settle down, snuggled into the safety his father's arms provided.

"He just did it…in front of everyone…and they all laughed and said horrible things about me…this isn't r-right…it can't be…dad please don't make me stay with him…" he said all of it in a stuttering whisper that left Burt feeling like he was being suffocated by every word that crossed his son's lips.

A carnal rage simmered beneath his skin and he gripped the armrests of the chair to prevent himself from strangling someone.

"It doesn't matter what they said. You're worth more than all of them put together," Burt said and Kurt lifted his head, eyes red rimmed and puffy, his cheeks wet with tears and lips sprinkled with blood drawn by his own teeth.

"Then take me home. Don't leave me here," he begged and Burt closed his eyes willing the tears to go away.

He had to be strong for his son.

A movement caught his attention and he saw who he knew to be Dom Dana Anderson stepping forwards towards them. Burt made up his mind on an instant and manoeuvred himself back to his feet leaving Kurt in the chair clutching the back of his shirt in desperate fingers.

"Dad-"

"Shh," Burt hushed cupping his head and stroking his hair. "I'll be right back kid, you're not going anywhere just yet okay."

It was the best Burt could offer as comfort for right now. Watery blue blinked in resignation and fingers uncurled their urgent grip.

He intercepted the woman and they walked a little away from the clustered group though not far enough for Burt to lose sight of his son, only far enough to be out of hearing distance.

His hands were still shaking and the sight of the Dom in front of him, so calm and collected in the face of is world crumbling down made him almost livid.

"Mr. Hummel-"

He cut her off, the gentle, calming tone feeling like an inspiration for his rage.

"Listen, let's get one thing straight here. I don't care if you have all of King Midas's gold, or are the President of these god damned United States, that doesn't entitle your son to mine okay."

He watched Dana assimilate that for a moment her eyes narrowing slightly; the only visible reaction that what he said had affected in any way before a deep breath was pulled into her lungs, helping her keep calm and reassuring.

"Blaine claimed him. It's not entitlement or ownership papers Mr. Hummel but the laws are very clear," she managed to say calmly looking at the man in front of her.

She understood his anger, she knew what it must feel like to be so out of control while looking at your child shivering in fear but she also knew that if they only managed to get Kurt to let Blaine in, he could be happy, he could be safe and he could be loved.

Burt clenched his fists and tried to stay reasonable even knowing he was fighting a losing battle here. "I don't give a damn what the laws say when my kid is crying his heart out, scared out of his mind because he doesn't want this!"

Dana flinched on her son's behalf.

"He's an Anderson. I bet a hundred subs here tonight alone would want to be claimed by him, why doesn't he choose one of them and let us go home? We have nothing to offer you that your family would be interested in."

In his opinion Kurt had more worth than everyone here in his little toe but this society wasn't based on what you had inside unfortunately. It was based on the size of your wallet.

Gasping at his words the female Dom narrowed her eyes fighting the anger she felt at the implied insult thrown her way. She had been fighting stereotypes like that her entire life; being looked down by the poor for being rich and by the rich for being richer than them.

They hid their hatred by sucking up to her, hoping to gain something from being friends with her, but Dana had few friends she trusted.

The rest of the people were all fake smiles hiding the exact same opinion the man in front of her had.
"You seem to have a preconceived impression of us Mr. Hummel. And I'm afraid it's a wrong one," she said sadly, chancing a glance towards her husband to keep herself calm enough to go through this.

Burt glanced around the room at the extravagance then pointedly down at the jewellery she was wearing that was worth more than his house.

She felt a sudden need to button up her collar to hide her diamond necklace and stuff her hands in her pockets to stop him from staring at the matching ring on her finger, but she fought it because she knew she wasn't in the wrong.

Yes she firmly believed the society was defected and that the money should be distributed evenly but there wasn't much she could do about it.

"Having money doesn't make us bad people just like having no money doesn't make you so."

It was a fair point that Burt in another frame of mind would have conceded gracefully. Instead he just set his shoulders and looked her square in the eye. "I don't want to talk philosophy with you Mrs. Anderson, I just wanna take my son home."

She sighed. "You know that's impossible."

"Have him relinquish his claim!" Burt growled.

"No!"

The force of it from the small woman made Burt pause and remember that he was indeed talking to another Dominant. A powerful one at that. She seemed to regain control of herself once more trying to make him understand what it all meant for both of their sons.

"Mr. Hummel you don't seem to realize just how special your son is-"

"I know just fine how special he is thank you," Burt snorted crossing his arms over his chest.

"I apologize. What I meant to say is, you don't seem to realize how he appears to other Dominants. Ones outside his family." She inclined her head politely at her miss choice of words and doing her best to explain what she wanted to say.

"I'm afraid I don't understand." Burt frowned again, not realizing where she was going with this.

"I felt the same way the first time I got an offer to make an arranged preclaim for my son. And I felt the same way the next fifty times. I see him as my son and as my son I know he's special to me. But to other subs he's more than that. A friend of mine, a sub, explained that. Apparently Blaine is a strong, attractive Dom, he gives off an air of security and strength that makes subs want to be around him. I always thought it's because we are who we are, but it seems that it's more than that and I think it's the same with Kurt," she explained quietly hoping he'd understand what she was trying to say.

All the Doms had similar qualities that came from their dominant genetics but some of them layered good upbringing, caring nature and just general niceness that made those Dom traits even more prominent to subs whose natures drove them to seek for those who would care for them.

In a way Burt knew that but he didn't really know what she meant about Kurt. He was a sub.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked and she smiled gently, grateful to notice that he had calmed down and started talking to her with the same respect she was giving him.

"It means you and Kurt's mom did an amazing job and raised an outstanding young man as far as I can see. I'm a Dom, a bonded one at that, and as such I should be able to ignore Kurt's submissiveness just as easily as I ignore everyone else's. But Kurt is so different from every other sub I know. His submissiveness isn't trained, it isn't fake and forced. You raised him to be a perfect balance of everything a sub should be and my son felt it. I did too but well, I kind of like my sub way too much to claim another," she tried lightening the situation up by cracking a joke like she always did but it seemed to confuse the other man even more.

"Your husband is the only sub you have?" he asked and she gasped trying hard to keep the hurt she felt at bay. She knew the rumours were there and she knew a lot of Doms lived by the rule of trading subs like accessories but her family was better than that.

She wanted to scream at him and possibly slap him across his face but she knew he was only worried about his son.

"I will let that insult slip because I'm aware of what goes down in this circle of society. I claimed Jared thirty years ago and he's the only sub I've had since then. I want you to know Mr. Hummel that I don't condone casual affairs on the side if a person is bonded."

There was a tense silence as they both simmered and regrouped. "You know Blaine's never even come close to bonding before?" she asked quietly looking over towards her son.

"Hard to avoid hearing it. He's quite popular in the media," Burt said trying desperately to hold on to whatever he could to stop this family from taking his son when he so clearly didn't want it but his defences were falling short as everything the tiny Dom said made him more and more calm and sure that Kurt would be okay eventually.

Dana clenched her jaw getting slightly tired of accusations thrown her way.

"Yes well, they're not exactly accurate representations of my son." Burt could see where this was going and moved to intercept but Dana held up her hand in a request to continue which Burt let her. "My son is a kind, caring man Mr. Hummel please trust me when I say this and not from any biased mother's opinion. The tabloids and rumors spread by them about Blaine are slanderous and almost always lies in regards to my son's character. They make him into whatever will raise their profits. I read all of them and there's not a trace of the real Blaine in them. Bottom line is, I raised him the way I thought was right and I taught him what a bond should look like. If you trust me and my words than trust Blaine too. "

Burt stared at her and saw that she was honest. That she at least believed what she was saying and it gave him pause... and a little hope. He snatched his cap off his head and run an agitated hand over his scalp.

"He's not ready for this." He gave her a final plea knowing he'd lost a while ago but Dana took his hand in her tiny one and made him look at her.

"He's old enough. And maybe rationally he doesn't feel ready but I saw the way he reacted to Blaine. I saw the way he looked at him before his mind kicked in and scared him to death. He's not ready for the kind of bond he thinks they'll have. But Blaine would never harm a hair on Kurt's head," she assured. "He's patient and wouldn't force or degrade him. He won't humiliate him or treat him like a slave. These are all promises I'd stake my life on Mr. Hummel. He'll worship him and I know it's hard to accept it but I will not allow you to cause problems with the claim my son has placed on yours. I will not do that to him especially when I see the way he looks and acts towards Kurt already."

She tugged his hand gently and turned him in the opposite direction.

Burt glanced back towards the armchair that Blaine was hovering around just on the outskirts.
He was fussing about like a madman, placing a tea cup and a biscuit and another jacket and a bunch of other things within Kurt's reach but never once invading his personal space and forcing contact on him.

He hadn't once taken eyes off of Kurt and at first it was disconcerting to notice how intensely possessive that gaze was… Burt didn't know what to feel about it now. Couldn't quite decipher the other emotions swirling there alongside it. Caring? Worry? He wasn't sure he wasn't just seeing what his eyes wanted him too but there was that hope again.

"We don't want to steal him from you."

Burt turned back towards Dana who was staring at him with compassionate eyes. She understood this was hard for him on a parental and Dominant level. He swallowed hard and looked back to his boy who was still tucked away in that chair looking smaller than he'd seen him since he was actually still a child.

"Just make sure he's happy and safe. And I swear if he's hurt in any way I'll find a way to get him away from your son."

"If my son ever hurts Kurt I will personally make sure he's removed from the claim and brought safely back to you. I give you my word."

He nodded his head to Dana then walked back to Kurt. There was nothing now but to try to be there for him, try to support and prepare him as best he could in the short time they had left. Dana called Blaine away, well had to call several times for him to actually move, but finally the two Hummel men were alone once more. Kurt seemed to sense the futility as soon as Burt approached and his sons lip trembled. Burt ducked down in front of him and grabbed his hands tightly in his own calloused ones.

"Kurt if I could I'd tell them all to go to hell and I'd bring you back home. But he made the claim and I'm not allowed to oppose it as much as I want to," Burt whispered sadly and Kurt lowered his eyes knowing that what his dad was saying was the truth.

He was claimed.

He didn't belong to his dad anymore.

He belonged to a stranger who would use him and keep him as a toy for when he gets bored with his high end life. A stranger that held no real regard for him or his thoughts or opinions. It made him want to scream and rage and throw things at the unfairness of it all. What had he done to deserve being picked up like a doll in a shop? Sure the initial eagerness for the new object was high until it started to get worn and the novelty wore off and another newer model hit the shelves.

Another useless tear snaked down his cheek.

His father had done his best for him. He knew that he had fought for him but this was now unavoidable and it wasn't his dad's fault so he steeled himself and nodded sadly trying to be strong about it even though he felt broken.

"I know. I know you can't get me out of this. I wish you could though," he murmured thickly giving his father a mock smile and Burt hugged him tightly letting his son bask in the comfort of a family for a little while longer.

Kurt shivered in his arms and Burt placed a soft kiss on his hair running his hand up and down his back until he heard him breathe in deeply as he spoke in a quiet whisper.

"I'm so scared dad…" he admitted and Burt felt the tears he fought to keep at bay spill over his eyelids as he glanced over at who was now his sons Dom for better or worse for the time being.

His first thoughts on seeing the young man hadn't been kind. That there was nothing nice about him there apart from his looks and the depth of his wallet. His lips were always stretched into a condescending smirk and his arms decorated with the latest of his sub accessories as he posed for the million disgusting photos in those trashy magazines. But honestly his perception was skewed as Dana had pointed out, though he would never willingly hand his son over to anyone painted angel or devil.

But Burt remembered his face from those photos and it shocked him to see that the young man standing on the receiving end of his stern glare looked nothing like the dapper Dom he saw on the news.

This man…no…boy, looked stressed and fragile and worried and he kept breaking eye contact with Burt to look at the bundle in his arms with gentle but scared and regretful eyes.

It almost seemed like he cared…and it gave Burt more of that illusive hope.

Breaking away from those frantic eyes he cradled his son closer to him and lifted his face up with his broad palm.

"I know you are. But maybe, if you give it a shot, maybe you'll realize that there's no reason to be," Burt said trying desperately to convince the both of them.

"He's gonna hurt me," Kurt whispered fearfully and Burt shook his head hoping to God Dana was honest in her conviction over Blaine's character.

"I don't think he will. Even if it's not the fairy tale you wanted I don't think you'll end up hurt. And if he does something to hurt you trust me I'll move mountains to keep you safe," Burt swore fiercely and Kurt nodded feeling a tiny inkling of something like relief joining the swirling mess of emotions battling in his insides, knowing that his father would always be around to make sure he was okay.

"Promise?" Kurt asked, eyes widening when he looked over his father's shoulder to see the entire Anderson family closing in on the two of them.

He gripped his dad's hand in his and lowered his eyes as he realized Blaine was among them as they did their best to approach him carefully like he was a frightened woodland creature.

"I promise buddy," Burt said as he noticed the powerful family as well. "Now I want you to promise me something, okay?"

"'kay." Kurt nodded a bit sadly and Burt cupped his face into his wide palms thumbing the last of the tears away.

"I want you to promise that you won't cry anymore. That you'll be strong and brave and try to make this work for you. I know it's not ideal but your mom always said that life is what you make of it. So make something good out of this. I know you can do it," Burt told him with so much confidence and heartfelt warmth that Kurt burst into tears once again throwing his arms around his dad's neck and burying his face into his shoulder.

"I'll try," he mumbled sadly into the fabric of his shirt and Burt nodded hugging him tightly, knowing that Blaine could end up forbidding him from visiting his family despite the hope Dana gave him that her son was a decent human being.

"Good. I'm afraid that we both have to go now, but Kurt, if you need anything, at any time… you know where I am," Burt reassured and stood up, pulling his son after him to his feet just in time to see Dana smile at the boy gently making him lower his eyes and twist his fingers in discomfort.

"Kurt honey it's time to go," she said sticking her hand out for him to take; after she won the battle against her son that it would be for the best if he kept his distance until they got home, Blaine stood on the side-lines scowling at everything and huffing at his mother but she paid him no mind. Jared was also beside his son trying his best to soothe him by rubbing his shoulder to ease out the tenseness there.

Kurt eyed his father but he just gave him a final kiss on the head before nodding at him to accept the invitation as he walked to the door.

"Mae is giving me a ride back so I have to go. I love you son," Burt said and Kurt's eyes filled with tears once again as he tried to smile at his dad weakly before his eyes escorted him out the door and into the night leaving Kurt alone with his new Dom and his family.

He looked back down to the hand that was still offered to him and taking a deep breath took he reached out with shaking fingers.

She clasped his palm into her own reassuringly and pulled him into a tender hug.

"Don't be scared. I promise we're not as bad as you think we are. Nobody here will hurt you," she offered and somehow her words sounded sincere enough for him to give her a timid nod and follow her out the door, Jared and Blaine on their heels.

The lobby was still filled with curious people scattered around, hungry for a juicy story that would satisfy their need to talk down at someone. There were sneers and whispers thrown their way and Kurt squeezed his eyes tightly to shut them out, managing to avoid them quite successfully until a ghastly dressed woman, with bleach burned blonde hair and disgusting painted on eyebrows cut their way, laughing like a deranged hyena.

"Well, well. The secret's out. Little Blaine Anderson never bonded because he has a thing for filthy strays. How lovely," she mocked in a sickening voice that made Kurt shiver as he lowered his head down in shame.

He felt, more than saw his new Dom trying to rush past him to defend what was his but he was stopped by his mother who was looking at the poorly dressed woman with the sweetest smile the world had ever seen.

Kurt knew instantly that nothing good could come out of a smile that friendly.

"Margaret darling," she purred seemingly delighted. "Jealousy is not a good color on you. But I do suppose it's expected given the fact that your son is once again, unclaimed. What is this, third, fourth year? How unfortunate. But I guess it's hard for him to convince a Dom he's worth the lifetime of putting up with you. Have a nice night."

She blew her a kiss and with a gentle hand around his waist, she pulled Kurt towards the front of the hotel snickering to herself in glee.

Kurt had a stray thought as he shyly observed the small woman and was pretty sure that even if he never grew to love his Dom, he would adore his new mother in law.

---

It took everything Blaine had in him not to rip Kurt out of his mothers grasp.

Kurt.

Never before had he seen a more beautiful, perfect sub and that he was now Blaine's? The thought made the pure pleasure running though him freeze over in his veins making him stiff as he continued to walk silently behind the pair in front, his father close to his own side.

Kurt didn't want to be his.

It was written in every line of his body, every feature on his face, hell it'd been spoken out loud in the subs own voice.

It made him want to roar in denial. Demand that Kurt accept him, want him, and while he was going crazy with the need for it he couldn't bring himself to move or say anything of the kind to the ethereal creature that had stumbled into his life by pure chance. He would never force himself upon Kurt be it emotionally or physically and so that left him to trying to be the best Dom he could. Left him with something major to prove and something to fight for.

He swallowed and followed every graceful line of his subs body mirroring his every step only three paces behind. Maybe stumble was a poor choice in words for someone so effortlessly graceful. His mother stopped them when they got outside and Blaine greedily inhaled as the light, biting breeze blew that intoxicating mix of vanilla and flowers towards him with something equally as mouth-watering.

Kurt was definitely unique.

Blaine didn't know it was possible for a sub to smell innocent. That pureness could be inhaled. That sweetness could be tasted on the back of his tongue. He was used to seductive tints and greedy wafts that were so off-putting to him, but it was like Kurt had been made to suit him. His tastes, his desires, his fantasies. Kurt was everything to him already and that he couldn't even get close to him drove him to the brink of his control.

Logically he knew that this was the best thing for Kurt. He was confused and scared and crying. God did tears in those amazing cerulean eyes slay him already; provoke him into wanting to do anything to get them to stop. Someone like Kurt should never be made to cry and that it was his fault? It was an ache inside his chest that simmered and burned like acid when Kurt wouldn't so much as look his way or respond and when he did there was nothing but sadness there that ran so, so deep Blaine couldn't hope to find the reason why just by guessing.

Jared walked up to the smartly dressed valet and handed him their ticket and promptly their black Bentley with the tinted windows was pulling up. It was usual in their social circle to have drivers but his father enjoyed driving so much that his mother hadn't bothered to procure a regular one. In fact she had been talked around by her sub for him to start teaching her and pretty soon she enjoyed sitting behind the wheel just as much as him.

They stepped up to the sleek vehicle and Blaine caught a glimpse of Kurt's wide eyed expression. It wasn't quite awe anymore as it had been in the hotel function room. He was uncomfortable. Blaine wanted to gather him in his arms so much that his fingers clenched into fists as he held himself back.

Dana opened the back door and gestured Kurt inside with a reassuring smile and his sub ducked in stiff as a board as Jared hopped into the driver's side. Dana moved to walk around the back and Blaine couldn't help it anymore.

He wouldn't be pushed aside. Kurt was his. His sub. His.

A low growl started in his chest, body coiling up like a cobra and his mother stopped and regarded him cautiously. They stared one another down for a few moments Dominant to Dominant, a million thoughts racing between them, before she nodded and continued on to ride shotgun.

Blaine rushed to the opposite back door and climbed inside shifting against the leather and god, Kurt's scent was so much heavier in the tighter space. He gripped the seat under him so hard the leather creaked and couldn't help when his eyes tracked immediately back to the sub sitting one seat away from him. Just one. The need to close the distance and feel that lithe body against his once more was fierce but one look at Kurt's curled in body language halted that dead in the water as they pulled off and headed for home.

The boy was trying to be as small as possible. It was clear in the way his perfect posture slumped, shoulders caving inwards, not resting against the seat at all and drawn up to hide that long length of neck. Knees were pressed tight and raised from feet on their tip toes while his hands clasped so hard in his lap they were stark white. He was staring at the floor unblinkingly and Blaine's heart broke from what a comparison this was from the bright sub he'd spotted spying in the doorway.

The sound of his parents soft conversing which would normally be comforting made his skin itch with envy and agitation, the car seeming to drag by and all the while Kurt didn't dare move a muscle and Blaine couldn't stand it after any longer. He lifted a hand to sooth him, it wasn't even negotiable at this point, but the flinch he got for his efforts had him retracting the hand swiftly. Scared blue eyes darted up to his face and away quickly and relocated out of the window and he saw Jared glance back at him in the rear-view mirror, his eyes sympathetic.

Blaine clenched his jaw and fought the need to actually cry.

He hardly ever shed tears, it just wasn't in him. Dom's leaned more towards anger when they reached extreme peaks of emotion while subs reacted with sadness but this time… he couldn't be angry with Kurt. He wasn't doing this to spite him but at the same time Blaine couldn't help but feel his heart breaking which was surprising but not wholly so. He didn't know Kurt yet but he just knew that this was the one he was waiting for and he vowed he wouldn't give up on it until there was nothing to hold on to anymore. Right now Blaine had a shred of hope to be able to change Kurt's mind. Show him that he wasn't a monster.

Soon enough they were pulling up to a huge mansion styled house and Blaine tried to imagine what would be racing through Kurt's brain as he stared at his new home. Tried to look at the old classically styled mansion house with an objective perspective but it was hard. He had grown up here. Played out on the perfectly cut grass and rolled on the sprawling lawns. He'd picked flowers from the rose bushes lining the driveway much to the gardener's disgust, slammed the large ornate doors with no regard to how old or expensive they were, and curled up on the porch swing a million times because it was the perfect spot.

For a second he replaced all the images in his mind to include Kurt.

Chasing Kurt around the gardens, happy laughter he could only imagine the sound of singing in the breeze. Plucking roses to give to Kurt, imagining the beautiful flush he'd caught riding the subs cheekbones after he'd claimed him, there for no other reason than that he was happy. Pressing Kurt up against doors with frantic need because they just couldn't help themselves and waiting longer to find a bed was out of the question. Snuggling together on the swing, Kurt slotting into him perfectly as they kissed lazily, a blanket around their shoulders to fight off the Autumn chill.

"Blaine?" Dana called and he snapped back into himself seeing everyone had gotten out of the car, save him.

He scrambled out and managed to catch and hold Kurt's shy gaze in his for just a few moments longer than he ever had before over the hood of the car and in that moment nothing else mattered.

He was going to earn this angel's trust and affection if it killed him.

---

There weren't a lot of places in the world where Kurt Hummel fit.

He was a boy but he was never into sports, girls, burping or whatever it was the 'ordinary' boys did these days. He was a sub but still chose to have his own interests, dreams and goals. He was a teenager with hormones running wild but he never felt the urge to satisfy them with a meaningless Dom who could provide relief for a few days. He was a poor kid with expensive taste but never once had he felt compelled to turn to something illegal or immoral to get what he wanted.

In his short life Kurt had managed to stand out and break all the stereotypes thrown at him.

But sitting in Blaine's room, on a plush, four poster bed decked in Egyptian cotton sheets and a thick wool comforter, he had never felt more out of place. He was alone. Actually alone for the first time in his life in a too big house full of strangers and he wasn't feeling like himself at all. It scared him so much he felt his lungs constrict and his breathing quicken making his heart thump deafeningly in his chest to try and compensate.

Ever since he could remember his skin felt a little too tight, his limbs a bit heavy and his head just a little bit hazed over. Over the years he had learned to live with it and it had become normality for him; it was the way his body operated, he was familiar with it and he could cope. This…

This was like nothing he had ever felt before and it made him shiver.

Since the second Blaine laid hands on him his skin seemed to fit him, tailoring perfectly around his flesh, stretching over his muscles and covering his bones. His head cleared and it was like for the first time his mind was completely unclouded, his eyes able to pick up the slightest changes in shades of colors around him and every sound that reached him was somehow louder. Sharper.

He wasn't used to it.

He didn't like it.

He wanted his old, poorly fitted skin back and he wanted the colors to dull…he wanted his world back…he wanted to go home.

He didn't belong here in this yawning mansion house, surrounded by the flashy furniture and golden picture frames. His clothes seemed even rattier in comparison to the discarded cardigan thrown across the bed and the seemingly soft material of a pair of pajama pants hanging off the back of the chair. It made his fingers itch to touch. His sensitive skin that always bore the brunt of his limited wardrobe begging for the gentle caress it was bound to bring but Kurt forced that train of thought away quickly before it could take hold. In all honesty he didn't know if he could bring himself to put something like that on. Yes his clothes may have been poor quality but they were his and that was the fundamental difference. He looked down at the very things and frowned when the pristine white of the sheets caught his attention.

Should he even sit on the bed?

Surely his clothes were dirty by now from his flower shop shift and if he ruined something his new Dom could get angry and making him mad within the first five minutes of being in his house surely wasn't the best idea in the world. Would he punish him? What would he do?

The truth was Kurt didn't know this man.

He didn't know the first thing about him other than what he had read about and so who was he to guess whether or not he could be cruel to him? After all, Kurt was entirely at this Dom's mercy with no allies despite how nice Blaine's mother seemed, no clue what to do or expect other than the standard things every sub learned in school. But what if Blaine expected more? What if he couldn't bring himself to give it to him? He thought of Jeff briefly and felt ill. He loved his best friend with all his heart but he knew the damage a twisted bond could inflict and the idea of that happening to him, all that pain his friend held inside, it terrified him to the point where he wanted to crawl out of the window and run all the way back to his dad's arms.

He'd worked himself up again, shaking with fear and confusion as he jumped off the bed to stay somewhere where he couldn't touch anything. His mind was running every worst case scenario it could despite any evidence to the contrary and he couldn't stop himself.

It was a test for his shaking legs but they held as he surveyed the room agitatedly trying to figure out a spot where he wouldn't disturb the balance of the room the least. He settled on the small, unoccupied space under one of the arch shaped windows with a small wooden bench decorated with a few throw pillows he could sit on if he got tired.

He walked over and turned towards the window facing the garden that immediately made his chest ache as he watched hired professionals mill around the property, finishing up their work; trimming, watering, shaping and forbidding the flowers to grow as they wanted to, instead shaping them into neat little bushes under the powerful beam of the outside lights cutting into the darkness like it wasn't night in late Autumn.

It made him think about his small garden at home with wild flowers and roughly trimmed grass that looked like a hobo would look next to a wall street broker compared to the garden in front of him but... Kurt would still be ready to do anything to go back to that messy life that was so familiar and safe.

Wrapping his arms around himself to keep the chill from biting at his skin he sighed and rested his forehead against the cool glass. His clothes weren't exactly made for cold weather and Blaine's room was too big to heat up right away so he curled up into himself, more trying to keep himself warm then hold himself together now. He was a rollercoaster of emotions but now it was somehow blanketing as apathy seeped through. There wasn't anything he could do about this, there wasn't anything his dad could either and the resignation made his chest hurt distantly, but he was far away now and maybe that distance would protect him somehow.

Suddenly his body shivered again but this time not from the cold but out of fear that crept quietly up his spine destroying his calmer mood as the massive wooden door squeaked and grunted when someone pushed it open.

Not just someone, Kurt thought to himself swallowing over a thick throat.

His Dom.

The notion was strange and scary now. He'd always pictured his future Dom not as a person with features- blonde hair or green eyes- but as an idea. He was supposed to be the one person that took him for what he was and thought he was perfect despite all the flaws the Doms at McKinley ridiculed him for. He was supposed to be a person who readily supported his dreams and goals and his fire to make something of himself and not just sit at home. He was supposed to be someone he loved and who loved him back unconditionally.

That had all shattered when Blaine had claimed him.

What if Blaine was expecting him to act a certain way, like all the other rich subs he knew and was angry when he didn't? What if he belittled and insulted him too? What if he expected him to sit by passively and take whatever Blaine gave him? Do whatever the Dom ordered him too? Wait at home while Blaine went out and got his needs met by any number of other subs just because the mood took him or he found Kurt lacking in some area or other? But the biggest fear that had caused most of his distress was simply the last on the list. Blaine didn't love him and what made it worse was that Kurt had this vague sense that maybe he had a real chance of falling for someone like Blaine. The submissive in him was wholly on board with that sentiment and Kurt hated himself for it. Wanted it to stop.

Feeling tears sting again he tried to retreat back to that icy place in his mind and lock himself away again. He didn't turn around to watch Blaine enter the room. He could feel him there with eyes intent on his frame that felt burning despite how cold he felt. That frightening sense of home that he didn't want to feel because he had a home. The feeling of craving that he despised because he taught himself not to want that.

His body betrayed him once more as a soft wind gushed through the frame of the old styled window and he tightened the hold of his arms around his torso.

"You're cold," a soft voice spoke from behind him and Kurt jumped a little, startled by the sudden break in silence and how near it was.

It wasn't a question so he decided to stay where he was and not answer. It felt safer that way and maybe a small part of him was petulant enough to want to ignore this man. He knew he was being difficult on purpose and that he could just be civil about all of it like any other probably would be in his place- hell they'd probably be ecstatic and on their knees by now- but he couldn't fight the feeling of being tricked into being where he was; couldn't stop wishing to wake up and be back home again.

He couldn't help being scared.

"Why didn't you take something to wear? Or my blanket?" Blaine spoke again and this time it was a question and Kurt knew from his friends who had Doms, and the scarce lessons at school, that refusing to answer could mean trouble.

He turned his head and angled his body slightly, not wanting to be completely open but knowing he couldn't be as blatantly disrespectful as to talk at the window, and found Blaine standing in the middle of the room, a tray in his hands filled with a plate of steaming soup, a few thick slices of bread and a glass of water.

"I…I'm okay," he managed to find his voice even if it was quiet because he didn't want to be weak. He didn't want to look like he needed protection and incite Blaine's natural instincts. He had learnt that the hard way at school.

His answer didn't seem to sit right with Blaine as he walked to the table with a frown etched into his forehead and placed the tray on top of it, sighing deeply when he turned back to Kurt, his hands shoved in his pockets which made Kurt relax a modicum.

"There's no need to lie about stuff like that." Kurt flinched at being called out fearing the worst but Blaine looked anything but angry... in fact he seemed...upset almost. "If you want to hide how you feel that's fine. If you want to hate me and keep your distance that's also fine for now. But there's no need to be cold or hungry or tired and not say anything about it. I want you healthy," Blaine sighed but it was stern and if his words cause a scratch on Kurt's heart then the tone in his voice cracked it open.

He sounded so weary and tired and like there was a bone deep sadness inside of him that just wouldn't go away and Kurt knew, somehow, that he's the one that caused it but he couldn't force a word out of his dry mouth as he assimilated.

For now. The words replayed in his head a thousand times. Did this mean Blaine was planning this to be somewhat long term? Surely not. He couldn't picture the man who had a different sub for every day of the week to even know the meaning of the word.

His Dom turned away from him and started unloading the tray on the table and he tried to ignore the stirring of his stomach at the sight. He hadn't eaten since this morning. Instead he focused on studying Blaine. He seemed calm and unaware of Kurt's staring but the clanking of the glass gave his shaking hands away and for the first time in all of the mess of that day Kurt realized that just maybe he wasn't the only one afraid. Which was absurd wasn't it?

His mind was going crazy with questions, crashing them together against the sides of his head until he felt ready to explode with them. It gave him a shred of confidence and he opened his mouth and... faltered. One little word but it held almost everything and there was a part of him that was dying for him to say it to this Dom that had claimed him, but it wouldn't come at first, wouldn't get past his stubborn resolve until he choked everything down and pushed the word out.

"Sir…" he called out timidly, fearing that Blaine wouldn't hear him and he knew he had no strength to force himself to say it again despite the faint rush it elicited, a promise of more.

But Blaine heard like he was waiting for the tiniest sound from Kurt and he turned to him with his face perfectly calm and reassuring though his eyes were lit a little darker than what they were before.

"You don't have to call me that if it makes you uncomfortable. Blaine is enough," the Dom answered and for a second Kurt wondered if it was a trick to make him do something wrong right away so he could punish him.

Didn't it say that in the textbook they had at school? That you should refer to your Dom as "Sir" or even in more extravagant cases "Master". Kurt hated the thought of the second one because it made him feel like a slave even when he tried the word out in the solitude of his room, but he heard Carole calling his dad "sir" all the time and it seems like they both liked it.

He figured it was for the best to keep Blaine happy, and now he was messing with his mind.

"Isn't that against the rules?" he asked a bit harshly and Blaine cocked his head to the side.

"I never cared for rules that much. Plus I was raised to see bonds as something each couple defines for themselves. So no…it's not against the rules. I know you feel uncomfortable calling me that so just call me by my first name and I'll do my best to show you, you can trust me. Maybe then you'll feel ready to call me sir. Does that sound okay?" Blaine asked softly and Kurt stared at him, eyes wide and disbelieving but as much as he doubted everything Blaine did, he had no other choice but to go with it and see what happened. He literally had no other option here.

Unable to talk he just nodded biting at the inside of his cheek nervously but happy for the reprieve from having to force the word out and Blaine gave him a careful smile.

"Now…what did you want when you called me?"

He was being so nice. Why was he being so nice? Kurt wanted to shout at him irrationally for it which was insane, he should be happy Blaine wasn't demanding things of him already, but he was all tangled up and it was exhausting being on the edge of every emotion. He decided to try and shut it down and focus on the now.

"Oh…um…I was…it's a l-little bit chilly here…" he whispered with his eyes downcast and his arms wrapping around his waist tightly again. It wasn't a request and it wasn't a statement. It was somewhere trapped in the uncertainty of the void in-between the two.

"Oh, right…would you like something warmer to wear or a blanket? Oh how about this?" Blaine jumped into action at his words so eager to please him that Kurt managed to relax enough to stop the anxious chewing of his cheek and let a corner of his mouth twitch into a semblance of a grateful smile just a tiny bit at his Dom when he handed him a huge, fluffy hoodie.

Kurt took the item in his hands and almost melted into it at the first feeling of the soft, smooth fabric underneath his fingers. The pullover was thick and heavy, deep berry in colour with a fleecy inside lining and he could already imagine how gloriously it would feel when it warmed his skin.

He was about to put it on when he glanced down and remembered his own clothes were not really the cleanest in the world and after being used for so long there was really no way to wash some of the stains off.

Suddenly embarrassed Kurt clutched the hoodie in his arms and chanced a glance up at Blaine who was watching him with patient eyes and a gentle crease between his eyebrows.

"Is everything okay?" Blaine asked fingers twitching like he wanted Kurt to spill his every thought just so he could appease whatever was troubling him, maybe run about the room again, and Kurt jumped a little torn out of his own thoughts.

"Yes…I was just wondering if I could…maybe take a shower…i-if that's okay?" he stuttered trying his luck just once to see how it went down, an embarrassed blush high on his cheekbones and Blaine smiled again nodding approvingly making the band around Kurt's chest loosen.

"Absolutely. I um…I'll get you some clean clothes. The bathroom is through there," he said as he pointed to the bathroom door and walked towards his closet, pulling out and inspecting random items before sighing in defeat and turning to Kurt. "I don't know what you'd like. Why don't you pick something out for yourself."

Kurt stared at him for a few moments completely baffled by how amazingly sweet and somehow bashful Blaine seemed to be.

There was no trace of the commanding personality they showed on TV and in the magazines. Sure he still seemed bigger than life to Kurt, the dominant vibe bright and conquering around him, but there was something so unusual about the way he fussed around making sure Kurt felt comfortable, something so endearing in the way he would unconsciously reach out every now and then to touch Kurt but ended up stepping away as if afraid of scaring him further.

It made the young sub feel a small part of the weigh that was pressing down on him ease up allowing him to take deeper and steadier breaths.

Maybe, just maybe he could learn to be okay living here, with this Dom that he had never hoped of belonging to. Maybe he'll be good to him even if they never fall in love and even if Blaine ends up doing God knows what with God knows who on the side. Maybe Kurt would learn to settle for second best to his romantic dreams and happy ever afters.

Settled into that partially comforting thought Kurt managed to let himself out of his own mind for a moment to realize that while his brain was very much awake and ready to torture him with every worst case scenario out there, his body was weary and tired.

"Thank you but…do you think I could just get something to sleep in?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as his resolve crumbled once more under those eager golden eyes staring at him and he lowered his own gaze back to the floor.

It would have been nice to wash away the days effects but in reality Kurt didn't know if he could bring himself to strip down to nothing, be open and vulnerable with just a door separating them, for an extended period of time with Blaine right outside. He just wanted to crawl into bed and shut himself off for a while.

"Oh…you're tired?" the Dom asked and Kurt frowned a bit, not managing to ignore the disappointment in Blaine's voice.

"Um…a little, yeah but…I could…I could stay up a little longer…" he started, fidgeting on his feet and running a nervous hand through his hair, wincing at how messy it felt underneath his fingers.

"No…no absolutely not. You're tired and you're going to sleep. We have time to talk and get to know each other." Blaine jumped in place, rummaging through his closet one more time before pulling out a soft looking flannel pajamas in red and black and a red cotton t-shirt. "Here, these are new. I never wore them. And um…there's a new pair of underwear too."

Blaine stuck the little pile of clothing in Kurt's direction and smiled at the blush that crept onto his cheeks and heated them up, making him look even more angelic than he already did.

"Thank you," Kurt murmured quietly as he stepped forward and took the soft items in his hands his fingers accidentally catching Blaine's as he pulled the clothes towards himself.

His skin burned as if being touched fire, his knees weakening and he felt his body shivering with need to wrap himself in Blaine's arms and stay there for good. But his pride kicked in a second later and he pulled his hand back as quickly as he could clutching the sleeping garments to his chest and looking at Blaine through lowered lids.

He really was unfairly gorgeous even with his suit and shirt a little wrinkled and the curls he was hiding underneath a layer of gel escaping from their prison to curl around his hairline in small wisps that begged to be played with. Kurt felt a blush rising as his fingers twitched against the clothes he was holding and forced himself to divert his attention elsewhere. They eventually landed on bright amber eyes, the shade Kurt had never seen on anyone else before, after skimming over the dangerous territory that was Blaine's pouted mouth. He really didn't know what was happening to him. His mind and body were picking up and reacting to the visual stimulation as well as the scent and miniscule cues Blaine's body was exuding naturally and he couldn't help himself.

"Okay so, I'll leave you to it. If you need anything I'm just across the hall," Blaine's rich tenor cut into his inner turmoil and turned to leave the room when a timid voice stopped him.

"B-but I thought this w-was your room," Kurt stuttered fully back by this point and Blaine turned towards him, a look of complete tenderness etched into his face.

"It is," he said carefully and Kurt frowned.

"Then…then w-why are you going s-somewhere else to sleep?" he asked and then flinched when Blaine took a step towards him, regretting it immediately when the soft smile on the Dom's face fell into a sad frown.

"Because you're not ready for me to be here with you while you sleep," he said as simply as he could, masking the pain that gripped his heart with another smile that Kurt felt looked different than the real one that made his eyes squint and glimmer.

"B-but I thought…" he started but this time Blaine reacted before his body could and took his hand into his own, twining their fingers together and feeling Kurt shiver from their touch.

"I know what you thought," he acknowledged sadly, holding Kurt's hand up and with a reassuring nod he kissed the top of his palm almost lingering. "But not everything you hear in the media is true."

With that he let Kurt's hand go and walked towards the door with a gentle, "Sweet dreams" and a smile that yet again, died before it reached his eyes.

Kurt felt a pang of guilt wash over him at the sight of his new Dom so distressed because of him and the sub in him almost screamed with the need to make it better. Almost torn from the inside Kurt was barely able to stop himself from running after Blaine but he couldn't control his mouth.

"Blaine?" he called after his Dom causing him to freeze and turn to look at him with eyes Kurt was sure, drove everybody crazy with just one blink.

"Yes?" Blaine answered gently and somehow the resolve broke in Kurt.

What was he thinking, calling out like that? What could he possibly do to make Blaine feel better? And where did he come off thinking that Blaine cared for him enough to be upset about something he had said?

Stupid.

"Kurt?" Blaine's voice pulled him back from his own mind and he shifted on his feet again trying to think of something to get him out of this.

"I um…what t-time do I have to get up?" he asked, knowing Blaine would see right through him but still feeling like it was a good question since he knew some Dom's liked to control every miniscule detail about their sub's life.

"When you feel rested and ready. When it's comfortable for you. Kurt I'm not a monster," Blaine sighed running a desperate hand through his hair and Kurt flinched at the pain his voice held.

"No...that's not what I…I didn't mean…I…" he started to babble hoping to find some sort of an explanation but nothing came.

"It's okay. I'll prove myself to you eventually. Sleep tight," he cut off softly and swiftly left the room leaving Kurt to whisper a soft, "You too" to thin air as he went about his night routine fearing the day ahead of him, knowing that every minute of it will be a new chance for him to mess everything up again.

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