Authors note: Oh my god, thank you all so much for your reviews! When I wrote the first chapter and published it, I kinda lost faith in it. I couldn't find the energy to keep writing and just didn't see the point. But as soon as I read all your lovely, amazing reviews I shot downstairs to write a new chapter. Thank you all so much! You are all amazing and I love you!

Blaine didn't sleep that night. He was tired, his eyes itched and his body was aching for rest, but he refused to let sleep pull him under. For nine hours he sat ramrod straight on his bed, watching over the sleeping form of Kurt Hummel. He concentrated on the soft rise and fall of the other boy's breathing, and occasionally he'd glance out the barred window of their cell. He saw the sky change. From dark navy to a deep red to blood orange to being tinged with pink, and finally a light blue/green surrounded by dark clouds. The alarm sounded; he had managed to stay awake. He heard Kurt grunt slightly and saw him sit up, rubbing his eyes and blinking the sleep out of them. Blaine shook his head lightly, rubbing his eyes too, pretending he too had just woken up. What would Kurt say if he knew Blaine had stayed up all night watching him? Wait… was Kurt even gay?

Blaine had always known he was gay, before he even knew what sex was. He didn't know how but he just knew. Of course he kept it to himself, he wouldn't have dreamed of letting anybody know of his awful, terrible, sinful secret. Well, that's how he saw it, and all his family and friends. In the small town Blaine grew up in, being gay was bad, a sin, and a terrible lifestyle choice. But Blaine couldn't change, no matter how hard he tried. He had endless girlfriends, but he never felt anything for any of them. For him dating a girl felt like dating a sibling; he felt no attraction, no feelings, and it was just wrong. Guys on the other hand… He simply couldn't stop himself feeling this way, and eventually he grew to accept that he'd always be gay. He was gay and he could do nothing about it, and it was a secret he'd take to the grave. But… it was a secret too big to keep.

His parents hired a twenty something Pilipino man to help around the house. He was some kind of God sent from the Philippines, with toned muscles, perfect hair, delicious mocha skin and deep, coal black eyes. Blaine suspected his mother hired him as a bit of a treat for herself, and he could see why. Every time Blaine and him were in the room together Blaine felt… urges. Urges he'd managed to trample out of himself for eighteen years. He somehow managed to resist the temptation being dangled before him… for a while.

"Morning." Said Kurt cheerfully, giving Blaine a smile which filled him with a werid giddy feeling.

"Morning." Blaine couldn't match his cheerful tone, he felt like he'd ran a marathon in high heels. All he wanted to do was curl up in his cheap bed (which right now fell like a luscious water bed with plump pillows and a thick, feather soft duvet) and shut his eyes, melting into sleep. But the guards were banging on the bars, and the cell doors were springing into life. Blaine and Kurt pulled on their jumpsuits, Kurt spoke as they did,

"Look, I'll try my best to get behind the shed today. Sebastian normally lets me out on my own during the exercise hour, he likes to play basketball. He was mad yesterday, you see, didn't want me to leave. Today… I might be able to. But if I can't, I'm sorry."

Blaine nodded understandingly, "I got it. And it's cool, it's nice having a little privacy." He lied.

"Ah, you're a man who enjoys his solitude." Kurt smiled, "See you round, Blaine." Blaine swore Kurt gave him a little wink before he was lost in the sea of orange.

Blaine was feeling braver today, so he joined in the crowd a few seconds after Kurt, and to his surprise nobody seemed to notice him. It seemed the mistake at yesterday's breakfast had been forgotten. Well… he was in prison, he was sure something else must have happened to take their minds off him.

Blaine collected his meagre breakfast and was moving towards an empty table, when…

"Hey! Hey you, new guy!" called out a voice from behind him. Blaine stopped, his heart froze and his blood ran cold. Oh god… this was it. He was going to die."… Sit with us." … huh? Blaine spun around and came face to face with his murderer. Only, he didn't look like he was capable of murdering anybody. He looked kind of dorky, with glasses and an old fashioned haircut. He held out his hand to Blaine, "I'm Artie. And you must be…?"

"… O-oh, erm, I'm Blaine." Blaine stammered; he was going to live?

"Sit," Artie gestured to an empty chair on his table, which Blaine slowly sat down on, "right then, introductions," he sat down across from him, and pointed to the other members of the table, telling Blaine their names. There was a tall, well built Asian guy called Mike, another well built guy, but with blonde hair and thick lips called Sam, a very tall, kind of dopey looking guy called Finn, and a very well built, menacing looking guy with a shaven Mohawk called Puck.

"Nice to meet ya," Sam nodded, Blaine noticed a slight southern accent, "heard quite a bit about ya."

Blaine blinked, wait… what? "M-me? You must mean someone el-"

"Naw, you're Hummel's cellmate."

"… How did you kn-"

"Of course we know." Chipped in Mike, looking amused, "Everyone in the prison knows that Hummel swapped cells. Sebastian requested that Hummel shares with him, and since it's Sebastian they obliged. Couple of nights ago they hear a screaming from their cell, and Hummel's forehead has been slashed open." He shook his head, "poor guy."

"Don't feel too sorry for him." Said Puck, not looking up from his breakfast, "it's the lifestyle he chose. Nobody forced him to be Sebastian's bitch."

"Kurt might be a bitch, but he's no idiot." Mike replied, "Sebastian would have made his life a misery. You don't say no to Sebastian Smythe."

"Oh yeah?" Puck looked up, eyes challenging, "I recon I could take him on."

Blaine watched as their eyes widened, Artie's jaw dropped wide open, "Puck, don't say anything you'll regret!"

Puck scoffed, "You're all pussies. Look at this," he yanked up his sleeve and showed them all his muscles, "check out my guns. I could take Smythe on any day of the week. But, I have my appeal next week. I could get two years off my sentence! If it wasn't for that, I'd find Smythe, and I'd grab his stupid head, and I'd…" he made several violent gestures. Blaine, who was sat next to Puck, noticed how terrified the others looked. Their eyes were getting wider, their jaws were hanging wide open, all staring at him. Then Blaine realized why…

"Pardon me, Puckerman…" came a cold, smoky voice from behind them, "I missed most of that, what were you going to do to my head?" Blaine saw the colour drain from Puck's face, "what's that? Can't say it to my face?" Blaine looked behind him and got a second peak at Sebastian before Artie elbowed him, and he looked down again. His hair was perfectly styled, clearly he had access some kind of hair product. His eyes were cold and sharp, his face pointed, his smirk was pure evil. Nobody wanted to make eye contact with him. "Now, Puckerman, I'll give you five seconds to get out of my sight." Blaine expected Puck to scarper, but instead he stood up slowly, turning to face Sebastian, making strong eye contact. It lasted for a full second, before Puck walked away, head held high. Everyone on the table was gobsmacked, as if Puck had just stuck his head inside the mouth of a lion. Sebastian wasn't fazed by this, his smirk still intact. "Morning, children." He addressed the table, which responded with mumbles of 'hey Sebastian' or 'morning Sebastian'. "Now, I want to speak to the newby."

Before Blaine could respond, Sebastian's hand was on his shoulder and he was pulled to his feet, then steered away. Blaine could see that the whole prison had been watching them, all wearing similar expressions of pure shock. Blaine was pulled to the corner of the hall, his heart pounding in his ears. Now he knew… he knew why Sebastian hadn't punished Kurt for being moved. He was about to take it out on Blaine. As he stared into the steel grey eyes of Sebastian, who's smirk reminded him of a cat about to devour a mouse, he silently prepared himself for certain death.

"So… you're the guy sharing a cell with my little pet, are you?" Sebastian's voice was dangerously calm.

"Y-yes…" mumbled Blaine.

"I see." He paused. Suddenly, Sebastian raised his hand, and Blaine's eyes snapped shut, flinching away. He heard a snort, and opened his eyes a fraction. Sebastian was just fixing his hair, smirking wider, "My, you're a jumpy one. Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I just wanted to talk, clear some things up." For some reason, this didn't make Blaine feel any better. "Kurt, is mine." Sebastian's voice dropped to a deadly whisper, his smirk faded, his eyes like daggers, "He. Is. Mine. Understand?" Blaine was frozen in terror, but gave a tiny nod, "Good. Now, just because you two are sharing a cell together, having little sleepovers every night does not mean that he stops being mine." Without warning, Sebastian's hand shot up again and attached itself to Blaine's neck, his iron grip holding him against the wall. Blaine couldn't gasp, his airways were being forced close. He could feel how hot his face was getting, hear the blood pounding against his ears. Sebastian's face was inches from his own, Blaine could smell his breath as it ghosted his face, "Oh, he's tempting, isn't he? Hard to resist…" he glared, as if daring Blaine to agree. Blaine couldn't make a sound, he was in agony, he felt like his windpipe was about to be crushed within Sebastian's grasp, "but you had better resist him. If I find you've touched him, tried to take him as your own and believe me… I will know… I… will… end… you." He held on for a few more moments, Blaine felt like his head was about to explode, like his neck was about to be crushed, his eyes bulging, until Sebastian let him go. Blaine breathed in noisily and deeply, trying to fill his lungs, empty them and fill them again as fast as possible. Sebastian smirked, satisfied, "Good talk." he said, before spinning around and heading off. The prison was staring at him, clearly they had been enjoying the show. Blaine spotted Kurt in the crowd. He was wearing a perfect poker face… other than his eyes. They were… he couldn't tell.

Blaine moved silently back to his table, and the room returned back to normal.

Which genius said breakfast was the best meal of the day?