While going through Kurt's checklist of 'limits', Blaine feels overwhelmed, but not just by this.

By the whole of his life right now.

Notes: For itallstartedwithharry.

Written for the Klaine Advent 2017 prompt 'limited', and takes place early on in their relationship, close to the very beginning of Blaine moving in with Kurt. And for anyone who asks, yes, they were Dom and sub before Blaine moved in, but their limits were much more casually managed than they would be with Blaine moving in. Hence, the official checklist, which probably not only covers what they do in the playroom, but how they handle things on the day to day.

"Hard limit, hard limit, hard limit, hard limit …"

Blaine scans down the checklist, at the many, many boxes he's ticked hard limit, and sighs. Kurt, reading his email on his phone in the seat perpendicular, raises an eyebrow.

"That was a heavy sigh, pet. Is there something wrong?

"No, Sir."

Kurt lifts his eyes from his phone in silent reprimand, and Blaine sighs again at being caught in a lie – a white lie, almost transparent, but still a lie. One of Kurt's first edicts when Blaine moved in was to break him of what Kurt calls 'easy lies' – the types of lies people tell so as not to be a burden to others, such as saying I'm fine when asked the question How are you? because you don't want to reveal that you're sick to your stomach, or that your favorite pet just died and it's tearing you to pieces.

Or because you know that the person asking doesn't really care. They're just being polite, practicing a commonly expected social convention.

Conversational lies.

Convenience lies.

But Kurt isn't just anyone. Kurt is Blaine's Dom, and Blaine's role as Kurt's submissive doesn't make Blaine a burden. They aren't just boyfriends, aren't just lovers. Kurt has taken on the responsibility of caring for Blaine, so those types of lies have no place in their home.

"I'm sorry, Sir. It's just that … when we first talked about this, I was so sure that I was going to mark yes to everything, that I would be open to trying anything, especially the things I know are green for you. But looking at it all, considering it seriously the way you said … I feel so restricted. Limited. I … I feel like an amateur."

"A-ha." Kurt logs out of his email and puts down his phone, ready to give this issue his complete attention. "Something tells me this has more to do with just our limits list, pet. Doesn't it?"

Blaine keeps his eyes trained on the list, on the checked boxes and on the items he has yet to get to, which he knows are going to be a no. But his Master is right. This isn't just about this list. Blaine has no reason to be upset over it. They've talked about it many times. Kurt warned him there were things on it that he more than likely wouldn't be ready for. It was a jumping off point, a way for Blaine to not only identify his wants and needs, but also to expose him to the things out there he never realized existed. It was actually kind of exciting reading through it all. Even the things that repulsed him on sight he found he was still mildly curious about.

But Kurt happened to give it to him on a day when real life insecurities were coming to a head, so instead of being this thing he could look forward to digesting slowly and examining rationally, it became the straw on the camel's back.

"I thought that rehearsals for the show were going to be like the audition, Sir. And I did so well in the audition, you know? Everyone there – the casting director, the producer, Cyndi Lauper – they all seemed so impressed with my talent. But now, getting into it, immersing myself in it … it's not the same. I feel like I'm not even in the same universe anymore. This isn't my league." Blaine shakes his head. "How did I even get this part?"

"You got the part because you are amazing, pet! You got it because you were so much better than everyone else, and it showed. You got it because you have an impressive resume – leader of a nationally ranked show choir, lead roles in off-Broadway plays …"

"But, maybe that's where I peaked, Sir," Blaine says, flinching when he realizes he just interrupted his Master. Kurt doesn't call him on it, choosing to let this one slide, but one look in Kurt's eyes tells Blaine that he's gotten this far, he'd better continue. "Maybe those roles were the limits of my talents. Maybe the casting director for Kinky Boots made a mistake when he picked me."

Kurt's brow furrows. He suspects this comment isn't coming from Blaine. Blaine has his moments of self-doubt, but getting this role in Kinky Boots had yet to be one of them. "Why would you even think that?"

"I … I can't help it," Blaine says with a heavy swallow. "Our director, he … he likes to yell. A lot."

Kurt frowns. He doesn't like that. Some random douche yelling at his pet? He doesn't like that one bit. Kurt has worked with some pretty temperamental directors in his brief time on the stage, but one that yells from the get-go? Enough to erode his lead actor's self-esteem after only two weeks of rehearsal? That's beyond unprofessional! Kurt has clout in this city. There has to be something he can do about this! And as much as he'd like to press Blaine into telling him the details about this asshole so he can find this man and beat him to a pulp, that isn't a solution to Blaine's problem.

But it would sure as hell feel incredible!

Kurt can't run into every situation with sword in hand and fix Blaine's life for him. Blaine is an adult, and Kurt has to have faith that Blaine can handle things on his own. For now, Kurt will just have to add this man to the long list of people in Blaine's life whose head he'd like to hang from his wall and move on.

"Like it or not, pet, life is about limits – recognizing limits, negotiating limits, pushing limits, even accepting limits." Blaine raises a hand to rest his forehead on, but Kurt intercepts it, takes it in his own and holds it – for comfort, and to try to break Blaine of a habit that's going to give him forehead wrinkles in the future if he continues. "And there's nothing wrong with that. Limits are important. They keep us safe. They stop us from making rash and reckless decisions. Acknowledging your limits, especially here with me, is not a weakness. I will never, ever try to force you or manipulate you into going beyond a limit you're not comfortable with. There are some things that are non-negotiable. I have those, too. And we have to live with that. Plus, just because something is a hard limit for you now doesn't mean it'll stay a hard limit forever. Tastes change in BDSM, the same way they change everywhere. For example, when I was in high school, I was good friends with a girl who was obsessed with reindeer sweaters ..." Kurt shudders dramatically. Blaine chuckles. "Luckily, she grew up, went to college, took my advice for once in her damned life, and the sweaters found their way into the Salvation Army donation bin." Kurt tilts his head, gazing at his solemn sub with fond and nostalgic eyes. "You remind me a lot of her, actually."

"Wha-why?" Blaine asks with an endearing look of surprise on his face. "Is it my … do you not like …?" Blaine looks down at the shirt he's wearing – a white button-down with little red lobsters embroidered on it, his own hold-over from high school so it's a bit outdated. But Kurt never said anything about his clothes before …

… even though he's replaced quite a bit of them.

"Not your outfit, pet," Kurt assures him. "I think your lobsters are darling. Your talent. Your ambition. She had both in spades, and so do you. She knew that if you gave her a stage and a spotlight, there wasn't anyone in the world who could outperform her. See, there's a difference, pet, between 'can and can't' and 'will and won't'. When it comes to performing, I firmly believe there isn't anything you can't do, Blaine Devon Anderson, once you put your mind to it. So don't worry about your yelling director, or anyone else who tries to bring you down. He's trying to make you submissive, pet. Compliant. But you only submit to one person, don't you?"

Blaine smiles. "I do, Sir."

"And who's that?"

"You, Sir."

"That's right, pet. In the end, he doesn't matter. You got this role by being the best. So show him you're the best. But don't live up to his expectations. Live up to your own."

"I'll try, Sir," Blaine says, and underneath the table, Kurt stomps his foot loudly against the wood floor. "I mean, I will, Sir! I will! I will! It's just going to take a little practice, pushing that to the side."

"Well, maybe you should try approaching him from a different angle, put on a different face when you walk through the door. This schoolboy charm you have is adorable …" Kurt runs a hand through Blaine's curls, combing them through his fingers, watching them coil back to Blaine's head when they break free "… and hot … but maybe it gives certain people the wrong impression."

"Can you help me with that, Sir?"

"What did you have in mind?"

Blaine turns the list towards his Master and points to an item, one of the few in a sea of hard limits that he's marked soft - interrogation.

Kurt looks at his handsome submissive, still with sad, puppy-dog eyes, but an enticing flush of red in his cheeks, and a subtle smile that's both breathtakingly innocent and bewitching. Kurt imagines throwing a hood over that handsome face of his; tying him to a hard, wooden, chair; positioning him under bright, hot lights; and putting him through his paces very, very slowly. Excruciatingly slow. Kurt grins. If Blaine can withstand that, then rehearsal tomorrow should be a piece of cake.

"Finish this up, and then … it would be my pleasure."