Monday

Kurt startled awake at the blare of his alarm, hastily switching it off and checking to make sure it hadn't woken Blaine. He stretched his arms out, smiling at the sight of his sub curled up in a ball, his legs tangled in his mass of blankets, still fast asleep. He didn't understand how Blaine appeared so comfortable when, despite Kurt's best attempts to make the cage homier, he was essentially sleeping on the floor.

Kurt yawned and stumbled to his feet. He didn't want to wake Blaine when he was sleeping so peacefully, but he really wanted to see the boy before he left for work. Even more, he didn't want Blaine to wake up and think he couldn't leave his cage without Kurt letting him out—even though he'd instructed the sub on how to open the cage from the inside and made certain Blaine knew that he was free to do so upon the boy's insistence that he preferred to sleep there.

Kurt sighed, deciding to compromise and leave Blaine a note.

Truth be told, he'd always hated the idea of cages. Kurt couldn't help but see them as cold and cruel and degrading, and he couldn't understand why any Dom would prefer to lock their sub in one at night when they could have them warm and pliant and cuddled up with them in bed. In spite of this, however, he had to admit that he'd known several subs over the years who had sworn up and down that they loved to sleep in a cage, that it made them feel safe and secure and cared for.

When he'd informed his father of his intentions to finally purchase a sub, the man had convinced him that it was best he buy one, pointing out that any sub from the center would be used to it and probably be more comfortable sleeping there than with him throughout the first days and weeks of their relationship. He'd eventually—begrudgingly—given in, selecting the largest cage he could find and arguing with the company he'd bought it from until they agreed to fix it to open from the inside. He couldn't live with the knowledge that he'd trapped someone. What if they had a nightmare, and he didn't notice and they were panicking and wanted out? What if, God forbid, there was a fire?

He grabbed a pad of paper and a pen from the desk across the room, hastily scribbling a note.

Sweetheart,

You looked so peaceful sleeping there that I didn't want to wake you, but I need to get ready for work so I wanted to remind you—PLEASE let yourself out when you wake up!

He hesitated, then added:

If I'm still in the shower, you're more than welcome to join me ;-)

3 Kurt

He folded the note quickly and dropped it through the bars of the cage, watching as it fluttered down to rest near Blaine's nose. At least this cage is more comfortable than the ones they had at the center, he told himself in reassurance, shuddering at the memory of rows upon rows of tiny grey boxes, eerily similar to the cells of a prison only smaller.

He shook it off and grabbed his robe, heading into the adjoining bathroom for his shower.

As the warm water beat down soothingly onto his back, Kurt turned his thoughts to happier things. Like Blaine. And the way Blaine smiled at him. And Blaine's voice when he called Kurt Master. The way submission shined in the boy's eyes, seemed to settle almost visibly into his entire body; the way he cried out so openly and sweetly every time Kurt surprised him with a kiss.

It wasn't that Kurt had been unhappy with his life before Blaine, but these past two days had been a new and unexpected sort of heaven. He knew it wouldn't always be so easy or so pleasant, but for now he was content to bask in how amazing Blaine was, how stupid he had been to let work consume him for so many years, to let his anxiety about opening his life up to another person get the better of him. Blaine could never be a burden. Blaine was sunshine, and Blaine was his.

Warm arms snaked around his torso, a face pressing into the back of his neck. "Blaine," Kurt said in a breath, turning to embrace the boy fully. It wasn't easy to hold him tight while simultaneously trying to keep their hips a respectable distance apart, but Kurt managed it. "You actually came!"

Blaine flushed, pulling back. "You did say in the note…"

Kurt chuckled. He couldn't help but notice—and appreciate—the careful, bashful way Blaine averted his eyes from his Dom's lower body. "I did, and I meant it. You're always welcome wherever I am. But I'm almost finished here, sweetheart. Why don't you condition my hair for me, and then you can get yourself washed up while I make breakfast? Andrew always has Monday mornings for himself."

It helped Kurt switch over to a more focused, disciplined mindset when he did things for himself at the start of the work week, as strange as it may seem to others.

"Yeah," Blaine said, a pleased smile on his face. "Yeah, I can do that. Which bottle…?"

"Here," Kurt said, grabbing the one he wanted and handing it to the boy. "Are you sure you can reach?" he teased.

Blaine scoffed, pouring a dime-sized amount of conditioner into his palm. "I'm sure I can manage."

Kurt smiled to himself at the boy's use of sarcasm. Not only was his sub flawlessly obedient, but he knew how to take Kurt's crap with a sense of humor, too.

It was official. Blaine was absolutely, positively, one-hundred-percent perfect.

Kurt was exhausted by the time he arrived home after a seemingly endless day at the office. He was surprised and pleased to find Blaine in the kitchen, pulling some sort of casserole out of the oven. Sniffing the air, he approached him from behind, twining his arms around the sub and kissing his neck.

"Kurt!" Blaine exclaimed, startling and dropping the hot pan the rest of the quarter-inch onto the top of the stove. Kurt winced as it made contact, exhaled slowly when the stovetop didn't crack. What was he thinking, sneaking up on Blaine like that? He was lucky he hadn't caused his sub to burn himself!

"I'm so sorry, Blaine. I didn't mean to scare you."

"That's alright," Blaine said earnestly. "No harm, no foul, right? I'm just glad that you're home. Just in time, too."

"Is that lasagna?" Kurt asked, reaching to dip his fingers into the dish only to have Blaine smack his hand away. "I don't recall cooking being one of the chores I asked Andrew to assign you."

"He didn't," Blaine answered, moving the lasagna carefully to a cooling rack on the counter. "It's my grandma's recipe. I asked him to let me handle dinner because I hoped… well, I hope you'll like it. I wanted to surprise you." Blaine looked at him for the first time since Kurt had arrived, a slight tinge appearing on his cheeks as he spoke. Such a stark contrast from his sass only moments before! Kurt couldn't help it; he pulled the boy close to his body for a deep, lengthy kiss, allowing his tongue to explore the ridges of Blaine's mouth, his teeth to nibble on the sub's bottom lip until he whined, his hips stuttering instinctively against Kurt's.

"I'm sure I'll love it," Kurt said, pulling back and resting their foreheads together while they both caught their breath. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I… I just need to toss the salad together. It shouldn't be too long. I was hoping it would be ready by the time you got home; I don't even have the table set yet I'm such a—I'm terrible when it comes to time management and I'm sorry—"

Kurt put a finger to the sub's lips, halting his words abruptly. "I'll set the table; you finish up the salad. And stop worrying! It's cute, but I imagine the charm will only last for so long."

The color in Blaine's face deepened. "I'm sorry, Master, I'll—"

"Stop," Kurt said again, more firmly this time. "Everything will be perfect, Blaine."

To his relief, Blaine nodded and headed for the fridge, Kurt staring wistfully after him. He hoped the boy didn't hear his whispered addition of "just like you."

After dinner they curled up together on the couch, Blaine's head nestled in Kurt's lap, Kurt's fingers absentmindedly playing with his hair. "Dinner was truly delicious," Kurt reiterated, trying to find a segue into the conversation he wanted them to have. "I may have to send your grandmother a thank-you card."

To his surprise, Blaine tensed in his arms. "Sweetheart?" Kurt said, concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"My grandmother's dead, Kurt. She died while I was in training."

Kurt's hand tightened instinctively in Blaine's curls. "I'm so sorry, baby."

Blaine turned his face into Kurt's thigh, clearly struggling to speak. "It was… they wouldn't let me leave. Wouldn't let me say goodbye."

"That's terrible," Kurt said, making a mental note to check up on the center's policy. That was a clear violation of sub rights. "Were you two close?"

Slowly, Blaine nodded. "She was—she was probably the one I was closest to. Of my whole family."

"Would you tell me a little bit about her?"

Blaine was silent for a few moments, but then to Kurt's immense relief he continued. "She was a sub, the only member of my family with a designation. Well, my grandfather was a Dom, obviously, but he died before I was born. She was too old by then for them to put her back in the system, so my parents took her in, gave her the guest house to live in. I spent every free moment with her I could growing up, and then after I was sent away to Dalton, every summer…"

"It sounds like she was a very special lady," Kurt said quietly.

Blaine nodded again. "The best. I… I miss her every day. I just wish I could have said goodbye. I got to see her before they took me away to the training center, but…"

"Maybe I could take you to visit her grave sometime? If you'd like?"

"I would," Blaine said, "but I don't even know where she's buried."

"Surely your parents—"

"Want nothing to do with me," Blaine insisted firmly. "And I want nothing to do with them!" For a moment he fell quiet, then "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have interrupted you like that."

"It's okay, Blaine," Kurt said, finding the boy's hand and squeezing it. "Would you… do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly," Blaine muttered.

Kurt sighed. "This isn't an order," he said hesitantly. "But I really think you should tell me, Blaine. It might help, and as your Dom I should know if something is… if something is sensitive for you."

Blaine took a deep breath, his grip tightening on Kurt's fingers. "We were upper class, you know? My parents always cared about appearances, but they were really good to me. Loved me. My biggest problem growing up was my asshole older brother," he laughed dryly, then continued. "But then when I was thirteen I realized I was gay, and I… I mean, it's not that it was easy, coming out, but I never thought that they would—that they wouldn't accept me. They loved me so much it just never occurred to me."

"I'm so sorry," Kurt whispered, stroking through his sub's curls in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

"It's not… it's not like they did anything awful. But things became strained, almost like they wanted to avoid me. And then when dad insisted that I be sent to Dalton because of 'better academics' and 'a more disciplined environment', I knew it was just an excuse to not have to deal with me every day. It was like they didn't know how to be around me anymore, and they didn't even bother to try."

"And your brother?" Kurt prompted.

Blaine shrugged. "He'd moved out by then. We never really got a chance to talk about it; I don't know what he'd think. But I do know how he'd feel about me being a sub. He taunted me about it all the time when I was little—even though he couldn't possibly have known then—any time I'd cry or do anything he considered girly. The only time he ever treated me with any decency was around grandma. I think he respected her, sub or no. She would have been so angry to hear the way he talked."

"And your parents? How did they feel about you being a sub?" Kurt was almost afraid to ask.

Blaine scoffed. "How do you think? They could have easily afforded to get me private tutelage, you know, or at least have me sent somewhere better than the center for training. There are even a few places that would have allowed me to continue my regular education, but—"

"Do you want to finish school?" Kurt interrupted, the thought never having occurred to him before.

"I…"

"Answer the question, Blaine."

"Yes. I, umm… I loved school. I miss it. And my friends," he added quietly, almost an afterthought.

"You can contact them if you like, Blaine. Or anyone else—you only need to ask. And I'll see what I can do about arranging for you to finish high school. You'll need something decent if you want to get into a good college."

"Really?" Blaine exclaimed, sitting up a little so that he could see his Dom's face. "That's too much, Kurt, you don't have to—"

"Of course I don't, but I want to. I want you to be happy with me. If that means going to college, or even getting a job. Surely there was something you wanted to do before?"

"I… I thought about being a teacher, maybe. Teaching music to little kids. When I was at Dalton I was lead singer of the Warblers."

Kurt felt his heart skip a beat at the flash of pure joy on Blaine's face. "That really makes sense for you; I can see it. You know now I'm going to make you sing for me some time…"

Blaine flushed, looking down towards their clasped hands. "I think I'd like to sing for you."

"Is there anything else you want to tell me, sweetie? Anything important in your life that we missed?"

Blaine looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head. "Nothing essential, really. I mean—the training center was fairly horrible, but I don't really feel like talking about that now. Can I maybe hear about your family?"

"Of course you can," Kurt answered, coaxing the boy to lie down once again, his cock twitching with interest when Blaine's skull brushed against it on accident. "That's only fair. But there's really not much to tell. Let's see… I guess the biggest thing is that my mother died when I was eight."

Now Blaine squeezed his hand. "I'm so sorry," he said sincerely, peering up at Kurt with his hazel eyes full of sympathy.

Kurt nodded. "It was hard, but I've had a long time to learn to live with it. And my Dad… my Dad is wonderful," Kurt smiled as he thought of the older man, unable to help it. "I was really scared to come out to him, because he's—you know the type. Really masculine, I guess: all baseball caps and flannel. He's a mechanic. But he took it in stride even though I know he didn't really understand it then, and he's been nothing but supportive of me ever since. Always, really. When we found out I was a Dom—Dad is one too—he insisted on paying to send me for special training rather than what was locally available. It meant that we spent a summer apart, but it was worth it in the long run. He had Carole—that's my stepmom—and my stepbrother, Finn, around by then too, so I suppose the distance wasn't so hard on his part."

"It sounds like he really loves you, though. I'm sure he missed you."

Kurt laughed and rolled his eyes. "So he said. I really can't wait for them to meet you."

"They sound wonderful. I'm glad you've had good people in your life."

"Yeah, well," Kurt thought about the bullying he'd been through before he'd received his designation, but decided quickly that was story that could wait to be told. "I think I've just been really, really lucky. I just wish you'd had the same, sweetheart. It kills me to think of you unhappy."

"I'm happy now," Blaine insisted. "It seems that my luck has recently changed for the better."

I love you, Kurt thought. I don't know when or how, but I already love you.

"How about we shoot for even better and get you set up on the computer so you can contact your friends? I'm sure they've been worried about you for the past year."

"Two. It's been almost two years. And thank you, Kurt." Blaine smiled, hoisting himself up to kiss Kurt softly, gratitude and affection shining in his eyes. When he moved to stand, Kurt caught him and wrapped the sub tightly in his arms, pleasure and contentment bubbling up in his chest and threatening to erupt.