Author's Note:

This chapter is again from Kurt's point of view. It's pretty angsty, because Kurt talks about how his mother died. So: trigger warning for canon character death (Kurt's mom) and for homophobia (non-violent, slurs).

A big thank you to my beta hkvoyage 3

Chapter 7: Story Time

As soon as Kurt's assignment looking after Carla was over, Kurt brought Devon to his own apartment again. This time, Devon seemed to understand that Kurt would be staying with him and would not leave him all alone, maybe because Kurt had brought his suitcase.

"Hmm, the first order of business is to open a few windows," Kurt said. "It smells so stale here. And we'll have to go grocery-shopping. I need food, and so do you."

He rolled his suitcase a bit further down the hallway. "Devon, sweetie, do you have any idea where the guest room is? I wouldn't like your owner to come home and fly into a fit because I've been sleeping in his bed by accident."

Devon trotted to a door to the right and sat down in front of it.

"This is the spare room?" Kurt asked.

He looked inside. There was a bed, a bookcase and a big wardrobe. In the bedside drawer, he found lube and a vibrator.

"I think this is your owner's bedroom," Kurt said. "I'd rather not sleep here."

But Devon, supremely unconcerned, jumped onto the bed and made himself comfortable.

"Devon! Get off there at once!" Kurt reprimanded him.

Devon shot him a wounded look and refused to budge, but Kurt glared him into submission.

"Now I'll have to change these sheets, since you've been shedding on them," Kurt grumbled. "Ugh. I guess I could sleep here and then change the bedding the last day."

Kurt very much enjoyed his week with Devon, who was the most affectionate and happiest dog Kurt had ever looked after.

He seemed to be rather spoiled, though, and would sulk whenever Kurt wouldn't let him on the sofa or the bed, and whenever Kurt refused him human food.

"It's not good for you, Devon!" Kurt told him. "It will upset your stomach, and then who will have to clean up the mess? Me, that's who!"

It took a few days, and a lot of patience and dog treats and cuddles, for Devon to abide by Kurt's rules and to stop begging for scraps and jumping on the furniture, but finally, he behaved like a model dog.

Kurt guessed he would go right back to his spoiled ways as soon as his owner was back, though, but for now, he was glad that Devon listened to him.

On Friday afternoon, Kurt hurried back to the apartment as soon as his classes were over. He was expecting Devon's owner back home any minute. He'd already changed the bedding in the room where he'd been sleeping, and washed and dried it, but when he'd wanted to take it out of the dryer, it had been a bit damp still, so he'd chucked it back in and now he still had to fold it and put it back in the cupboard.

He hoped the owner wouldn't be back already. They generally didn't like any indication that someone other than themselves had lived in their home. The businesswoman whose Dalmatians he'd looked after had reported him to the agency for not putting the mug he'd used back in the cupboard with the handle to the left, like the others in the row.

When he opened the door, though, the only one greeting him, with his usual exuberance, was Devon. Kurt usually gave Devon a belly rub as soon as he came home from school, but now he only gave him a perfunctory pet on the shoulder and made a beeline for the laundry. As he started folding it, Devon threw himself on the floor and whined.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Drama queen! You'll get your cuddles in a minute. I need to do this first."

Once everything was folded and in the linen cupboard, Kurt whistled. "Devon? Come here, boy, if you want cuddles!"

Devon raced towards him and nuzzled Kurt's knee. Kurt rubbed his neck and behind his ear, until Devon flopped over and exposed his belly.

"Belly rub?" Kurt laughed, and set to it, petting and scratching Devon with his mind drifting away to other matters. The agency hadn't yet gotten in touch with him about a new dog-sitting assignment, so he'd have to crash at the loft he used to share with Rachel. It was a drag, having to move from one place to another and living out of a suitcase all the time, but for now, it was the best option he had. Any other job would take up too much time and not pay enough for Kurt to afford rent and other costs of living as well as his school fees. He counted himself lucky that he'd scored a paid internship. The pay wasn't much, but it helped in the finances department.

Kurt made a mental note to text Rachel and warn her that he'd be coming over and sleeping at her place for a while, but he forgot all about that when his hand, still caressing Devon, bumped into something smooth and hard.

His gaze flicked towards Devon, and what he saw made him jump away and scream his head off.

Because there was no adorable dog lying there on the floor to be petted. No. It was a man who lay there, naked as the day he was born, and Kurt's hand had just nudged his huge hard dick. As if that wasn't upsetting enough, it was a man he recognised. It was Professor Anderson.

Kurt's heart was hammering like it was about to jump straight out of his chest, but he forced himself to take deep breaths until he calmed down enough to think rationally.

There had been a dog there, minutes ago. He was sure of that. And now Devon was nowhere to be seen and Professor Anderson was there in his place. That reeked of magic.

Kurt remembered the prank Elliott had played on him a few months ago. Afterwards, he'd chewed Elliott out so hard that his friend had avoided him for weeks and winced whenever he and Kurt made eye contact. Kurt thought he'd learned his lesson. Clearly not, though, seeing as he was at it again. But Kurt would rip him a new one, and if he ever dared mess with Kurt again, he'd go Lima Heights on him!

From Kurt's mouth flew a torrent of words, and he glared at the fake Professor Anderson with so much force it should have set him on fire.

The impersonator insisted that he really was Professor Anderson, of course, but that just made Kurt's blood boil, and on he ranted. That it was horrid of Elliott to keep using Kurt's crush against him and mock him for it. That he hated magic because it ruined everything. And that he wanted nothing more to do with Elliott ever.

And then it occurred to him that if this was Elliott, the real Devon had been swapped for him at some point, and that he still had to be out there somewhere. Probably Neil was in on this prank and had taken the real dog home with him. Just now that his owner could be back any minute!

So Kurt shut up and ran to the front door without wasting another glance on the impostor, who followed him and pleaded for Kurt to believe him.

Yeah, like that's gonna happen…

Kurt laced up his shoes with slightly more fervour than the action warranted, while the guy, now looking frantic, started summing up facts he knew about Kurt, choosing stuff that got Kurt's back up even more, until Kurt felt so much anger thrumming through him that he wanted to plant his fist straight into that puppy-eyed face.

But then the man said something that had Kurt turn around and stare at him, because it was a secret no-one knew. Absolutely no-one. Kurt hadn't even told his father. He'd only ever broached the subject… with Professor Anderson.

Reeling inside, Kurt gaped at the man in front of him, who was still talking to him, softly now, recounting Karofsky's death threat. And really, how could he know about that unless he was Professor Anderson? But, if that was true, he'd basically just admitted to his teacher that he had a crush on him. Oh, great.

Kurt's heart started racing again, his ears rang and his hands went all clammy. He hardly noticed what came out of his mouth, or what Professor Anderson replied. He felt awful.

It took a joke from the professor about his naked state, and how Kurt was free to feast his eyes on him, for Kurt to snap out of his daze and laugh about the absurd situation.

"So what's the story, Professor?" Kurt asked, sitting down on the sofa. "How is it that you're a dog part-time?"

"Seriously, call me Blaine. We're friends, right? I know your darkest secret, and you're about to know mine, so call me by my first name, please."

Kurt nodded. "Blaine. Done. Now tell me."

Blaine chuckled. "Bossy. You've been bossy all week."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Pets don't belong on beds and sofas. Do you know what a pain it is to vacuum up all that hair they shed?"

"True. Been there."

"And that sauce you wanted to taste is bad for dogs," Kurt continued. "There's tons of stuff in there a dog can't digest."

"But it smelled so good!" Blaine protested.

"Stop deflecting," Kurt snapped.

Blaine threw his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. "Okay, okay. So. My story."

And out poured an incredible tale of having been cursed by a rejected suitor to turn into a dog for a week whenever the guy thought of him.

"Okay, hold on, hold on," said Kurt. "This happened to you in high school? But that must be at least ten years ago!"

"Twelve, actually," Blaine clarified.

"And you still haven't been able to break the spell?" Kurt asked.

Blaine frowned and shook his head.

"You have tried, haven't you?" Kurt insisted. "Contacted people to sort it out for you?"

Blaine gaped at him.

Kurt huffed impatiently. "Blaine! You can't stay like this for the rest of your life. You have to get rid of that curse somehow."

Blaine shrugged. "I didn't even know there were people who could break a spell."

"Yes, well, they can't do miracles," Kurt sighed. "My mom ended up dying anyway."

"Your mom was cursed?" Blaine asked. "I mean… You told me she died when you were little, but I didn't know…"

Kurt nodded. "Yeah. It was awful. I took ballet lessons. And one day, when my mom came to pick me up after class, I refused to take off the fairy wings I'd been dancing with, and my mom just rolled her eyes and let me wear them until I got home. We went for an ice cream, and in the ice cream parlour, there was this woman who ripped into my mom for allowing me to dress all girly. 'That's how you end up with a nasty fag for a son!'"

Blaine gasped.

"My mom, instead of getting angry, explained to her very calmly that she believed in letting children be whoever they wanted. 'And if that means he'll grow up to like boys, I'll be fine with that.'"

Blaine aww'ed.

"The woman didn't like that. At all. Her face went red and blotchy, and she started yelling at my mom again, who put her hands over my ears so that I wouldn't have to listen. But I wrestled free, just in time to hear the woman say to my mom, 'People like you shouldn't exist. You're what's wrong with America these days. Go and die a horrible death!'"

Blaine made a strangled kind of sound. He looked ashen pale. Kurt realised this story probably made Blaine relive his gay bashing, which had started with insults just like that one. But he forged on anyway, because Blaine had to understand what had happened.

"At that point, the owner of the ice cream parlour made the rude woman leave. Mom and I got our ice cream, and went home, and I forgot all about the woman. But then Mom got ill. And we went to the hospital, and she was diagnosed with cancer. But one of the nurses had second sight, and she told Mom that this was no ordinary disease. 'You've been cursed. There's this dark aura around you. Someone wishes you very ill.'"

Kurt took a deep, shuddering breath, and felt Blaine take his hand and squeeze it in comfort. He squeezed back, and then continued with his story.

"And then Mom thought of the woman from the ice cream parlour, of course. The one who'd told her to go die a horrible death. And she asked the nurse if anything could be done."

Now tears were rolling down Kurt's cheeks, but he paid them no mind.

"We went to tons of people who claimed they could help, but they all said the magic was too strong, and they advised us to sue the woman. So we did, and it cost my dad a lot of money, and it took years for the lawsuit to come to trial, and all the while my mom was just wasting away. The judge told the woman to take the curse off my mom, but she refused. Laughed, and said my mom had it coming. At that point, my mom was already dying. She was so weak and so ill. But that woman just laughed in her face. And she tried to curse my dad and me, too, but thankfully, the court hall was proofed against magic, and it just bounced off us. She was sentenced to fifteen years in prison, and stripped of her magic for life. My mom died two days after the verdict."

There was silence after that, except for Kurt's sniffles. Reliving his mom's death was still hard, even after all those years, and guilt swirled up in his gut again. If only he hadn't worn the fairy wings home… If only he hadn't asked for ice cream that day…

He felt a soft pressure against his cheeks, and looked up to find Blaine dabbing the moisture from his cheeks with a tissue.

"Hey…" Blaine said softly. "What happened to your mother is terrible. But you do know it's not your fault, right? The only one who's to blame is that awful woman."

"I know. I know, but…"

Blaine handed Kurt the tissue, and Kurt blew his nose in it.

Blaine took Kurt's hands in his, and looked him straight in the eye. "Your mother loved you the way you were. She wouldn't have changed a hair on your head. She was proud of you, and rightly so. And she wasn't afraid to teach people to broaden their mind. Seems to me like it wasn't the first time she'd defended your right to be yourself. Or somebody else's right. And there are always people who won't appreciate that. If she hadn't been cursed there and then, it might have happened at some other time. Maybe when you weren't even there to witness it. Don't take the blame for this, Kurt. Your mother wouldn't have wanted you to. It wasn't about you. Not really. It was two world views clashing, and that woman resorting to revolting methods to get the upper hand."

Kurt nodded, a fresh wave of tears hitting him and falling on his lap.

"Come here," said Blaine, and he enveloped Kurt in a hug.

Kurt's arms went up to hold Blaine, but when they encountered nothing but naked skin, Kurt drew back instantly. "Oh for goodness' sake, go put some clothes on!"

Blaine laughed and jumped off the sofa to head to his bedroom.

Kurt made a valiant attempt not watch his backside as he disappeared, but failed, just when Blaine looked over his shoulder and caught him perving.

Blaine smirked and winked, wiggling his tush for good measure. "Like what you see?"

Kurt glared at him. "Clothes! NOW!"

Blaine saluted him. "On it!"

When Blaine was gone, Kurt groaned and buried his face in his hands.

Thank heavens Blaine took his crush as a joke. Still, it was mortifying. And so unfair. A professor wasn't supposed to look so hot. Why couldn't Blaine have been a balding sixty-year-old with a pouch?

Kurt's mind supplied him with a visual of what Blaine would look like as a balding sixty-year-old with a pouch, and Kurt found himself smiling, because of course Blaine would still look adorable in thirty years' time. Why was he so appealing? Not. Fair.

Blaine returned to the living room a few minutes later, looking every inch the dapper professor again, but it was no use. Now that Kurt knew what Blaine looked like underneath, he couldn't get stop thinking about Blaine naked. Those biceps. Guh. His thighs. Ngh. His perky butt. Unf.

"Better?" Blaine asked, twirling around.

"Much," said Kurt.

"Now, tell me why you thought I was Elliott. Cause I really don't get it."

Kurt groaned again. "Must I? It's embarrassing."

Blaine shot him a cheeky grin and said, "Oh, yes, you must."

Kurt bit his lip and nodded. "Well, Elliott has magic abilities. Nothing major. But he has a few tricks up his sleeve. And he loves using them to prank others."

"Right."

"Anyway, remember how Professor Scher told me I was spending too much time one-on-one with you?" Kurt continued. "And how, after that, I didn't dare talk to you at all anymore?"

That wiped the grin of Blaine's face, and he nodded.

"Well, my friends thought I was being ridiculous," Kurt said. "They all know about my crush on you, and they all keep egging me on to make a move. Especially Elliott. So one day, he shape-shifted into you, and tugged me into an empty classroom to serenade me and then declare his love for me. He probably expected me to start kissing him or something. But I was thunderstruck, and I just stood there, gaping. So after a few moments, he changed back into himself, and yelled, 'April Fools!' I just about jumped out of my skin with fright, and I railed at him until he slunk away with his tail between his legs."

Blaine laughed. "I wish I could have seen that. What song did he sing?"

Kurt thought hard. "It was a Queen song. Crazy Little Thing Called Love."

"Niiiice!" Blaine drawled.

Kurt glared at him, and Blaine laughed again. "Sorry, sorry. No more teasing, I promise. Well, for today, that is."

Before Kurt could get angry, his phone buzzed, reminding him that he had dogs to walk. "Right. Duty calls. I'm taking a few dogs to the park. Can I leave my suitcase here while I'm out working? I'll come fetch it after this evening walk and I'll be out of your hair in a minute."

Blaine cocked his head to the side. "Mind if I come with you? We have more to talk about. And don't worry about the suitcase. It's in nobody's way."

Ten minutes later, Kurt was holding Snowball's and Summer's leashes, and Blaine had Titus'.

"This is different," Blaine laughed. "Usually I'm one of them."

Kurt smiled. "Yes, it must feel weird to you. They took to you quickly, though, so I guess they recognise you as Devon to some degree. You must smell similar."

"I love playing with them," Blaine confessed. "It's one of the best parts of being a dog. Well, that and being petted, of course."

Kurt felt his cheeks redden, thinking of him unconsciously petting a naked Blaine that afternoon, and even touching his dick.

"Of course, now that you know that I'm actually a human, you won't ever want to pet me again, right?" Blaine asked, pouting at Kurt.

Kurt's eyes went wide. "You… You want me to look after you again? You wouldn't mind?"

"Mind what?"

"That I clean up after you when you do your business in the park," Kurt said. "That I pet you, fully knowing that you're a human being trapped in a dog's body. That wouldn't bother you at all?"

"No, why would it? You're my friend. I'd rather have you looking after me than a complete stranger. In fact, I wanted to ask… Now that you're in the know, would you consider becoming my roommate and looking after me during my dog phases? I'd pay you for it. The same rate I've paid the agency for this week's dog-sitting, but the whole month through, 'cause you'd always be on stand-by."

They arrived at the park, and Kurt took his time taking the dogs' leashes off and petting them before they ran off, mulling Blaine's offer over in his head.

It was tempting, no doubt about it.

"I could tell the agency I want to go back to dog-walking," Kurt mused out loud. "You wouldn't mind me walking other dogs, would you?"

"Not at all," said Blaine. "I'd even come with you and help. I can always use more exercise."

Kurt threw him a long look. "Somehow, I doubt that. You pack a lot of muscle."

"I box."

Wow. Now Kurt imagined Blaine all sweaty, pounding into a boxing bag with an intense face. Oh, yum.

"Earth to Kurt!" Blaine laughed, waving a hand in front of Kurt's face.

Kurt's cheeks heated up again, and he mumbled a "Sorry!"

Blaine nudged his shoulder against Kurt's. "No need to apologise. It's flattering."

Kurt bit his lip and looked away.

"So you'll do it?" Blaine grinned, and he jumped up and down like an excited toddler.

Kurt couldn't help smiling widely at him – oh, he was so far gone! And living together would only make that worse. But whatever. He'd do it. He'd take what he could get. It was okay if that was only friendship.

So he nodded slowly. "I'm in."