Hi everybody! Hope everyone out there are having a good tuesday :)

So, the right answer to my contest last week was the babbling, bumbling baboon reference. McGonagall says it in the fourth movie when she is going to teach the Gryffindor's to dance for the yule ball.

The winner is someone who called themselves abby, and I hope that if you recognize this you will contact me because simply telling me I can add you on hotmail isn't going to work, not when the only thing I know about you is that your name is abby. But I will be happy to write you your one-shot, in fact I am looking forward to it. Hope I didn't sound too rude there, it wasn't my intention, but was simply a description of my situation.

Okay on with the chapter :)

Blaine POV

Blaine was lying in his bed the fallowing morning wondering if the previous day had actually really happened, or if it had simply been an extremely elaborate dream on his part.

For surely there wasn't someone so good and kind as Mister Kurt gracing this planet? The way he had treated and spoken to Blaine had simply been an illusion, right? It couldn't have been real, right?

But Blaine recognized and remembered the bed he was lying in as the one Kurt had given him the day before; it was by far the softest he had ever had the fortune to sleep in, let alone touch in the first place. And he could remember this room too. His room.

Blaine had never had a room quite this grand to call his own before. Not one quite this clean either. His old rooms had always been small and dark. Also extraordinary hard to keep clean, and Blaine considered himself to be quite hygienic, dirt shouldn't appear that quickly during any circumstances. It was like the filth had been built into the walls or something.

But this room, this room and this bed was the proof saying everything else was now buried in his past.

Because if this bed was real, and this room truly existed, then so did Mister Kurt. It meant that yesterday had really happened. The movie, the singing, the praise from Mister Kurt, the promise to never be sent away again – it was all real. It had all actually happened.

But that also meant that being given away a second time was true as well.

He really hoped Mister Kurt would stay true to his promise and always let Blaine stay with him. This was by far the best place he had ever been able to call home; he knew that despite having only been there for a day. He never wanted to leave.

Blaine wished he could show Mister Kurt how thankful he was, how much he truly appreciated Mister Kurt's generosity and utter kindness. But Mister Kurt had told Blaine he would never have to clean or cook again, so what could he then do?

Cleaning and cooking was all he knew, it was the only thing he had ever thought he had to know. His old care-takers had told him so many times it was the only thing he would ever have to learn, the only thing he should expect to do in his life.

Would Mister Kurt be terribly upset if Blaine were to make some breakfast for him, just to show his gratefulness? Just this once? The sirs and misses had always said his angel pancakes were the most edible thing he could cook, so he wanted to make them for Mister Kurt. And the angel pancakes would fit Mister Kurt so splendidly, because Blaine was still certain Mister Kurt was an actual angel himself.

Taking a quick shower and putting on some clean clothes (along with making a mental note to wash everything soon so he wouldn't be running around in filthy rags in front of Mister Kurt), Blaine walked soundlessly through the apartment to the kitchen, a skill he had perfected at the shelter after they had punished him for waking them up one early morning when he was too loud.

He could see Mister Kurt had cleaned away the broken glass from the floor, and he shook his head not believing he hadn't left that for Blaine to clean in the morning once he'd had a chance to calm down. That was what his old sirs would have done. Well, actually they wouldn't have let him take the night to calm down first. They would probably have punished him for breaking it before making him redo everything he had already washed. But there was no way they would have done Blaine's chores.

He was happy to find Mister Kurt had all the ingredients required for the pancakes, and he was soon merrily blending everything together in a bowl, wearing an apron he found in the far back of the cleaning cabinet.

The angel pancakes was a creation Blaine had invented himself one morning a few years back at the shelter. The sirs had been complaining for weeks that Blaine could never cook them anything acceptable to eat for breakfast at all, and he had finally wanted to prove them wrong that fateful morning. With merely adding a few of his absolute favorite flavors to his usual batter of pancakes it meant that they were suddenly approved by all of the sirs. That had been the birth of his popular angel pancakes, and Blaine had named them so because he believed it was an angel that had given him the courage to actually make them in the first place.

Blaine only hoped Mister Kurt would like them too.

Kurt POV

Kurt was unusually tired when he woke up that morning, but it was to be expected after having been berating himself for hours on end in the middle of the night.

The incredible guilt he had felt after waking from that dream featuring Blaine was still raging his body, so was the guilt from every single thought that had whirred around in his brain the previous day. He felt so undeniably bad for every small fantasy, for every fragment of a thought that had concerned the young bunny in different sexual situations. And there had been plenty of them.

Kurt knew it all had to stop; he had to stop thinking about Blaine in any way that exceeded friendship. Otherwise someone, or more likely both of them, would end up hurt and broken. And all because of him, and Kurt couldn't allow that to ever happen.

That was the only thing milling around in his head as he got himself ready; how he would go around his problem with thinking too much (and too wrong!) about Blaine. In the end – after a long warm shower, a careful run-through of his lengthened moisturizing routine and some mindful planning for an exclusive though casual Sunday attire – he had… nothing. He had absolutely nothing; no plan, no ideas what so ever.

He didn't know how to put an end to his countless fantasies at all. Because clearly making a simple decision not to wouldn't work. Even vowing that no daydreams about the teen hybrid would occur had been fruitless. Everything he could possibly think of would without a doubt be just as ineffective.

With a resigned sigh Kurt shut the bedroom door closed behind him as he mentally prepared himself for a Sunday filled with Blaine and Blaine-related thoughts he should definitely not be having in the first place.

'Maybe he could ask Rachel for advice,' Kurt thought as he walked towards the kitchen, 'it was after all her idea in the first place.'

Though after second thoughts, no. Then he would actually have to tell Rachel what he had done that weekend to begin with. As it was nobody knew a thing about the hybrid shop or Blaine, not even his father.

God, what would Burt say once he found out? He hated those rich, pompous perverts who bought hybrids even more than Kurt did himself, how would he possibly react when Kurt told him about Blaine?

Now, he wasn't ashamed of Blaine per say, but more so over himself for having gone to one of those places in the first place. It was one of those things he had sworn never to do.

He knew he would have to tell everybody, and preferably so before they found out through the media or something equally awful. He would tell everybody, just not yet, maybe in a few weeks…

Turning the corner to the kitchen he lost all train of thought as his mind went utterly blank. He had not been expecting the sight which on-slaughtered him the moment he stepped foot into the kitchen.

Because humming lowly and flipping pancakes merrily by the stove was Blaine. And he was wearing an apron.

Not any old apron however, but the baby blue one with lace and toll trimmed around it's edges that Kurt had been given by Rachel a few years back on Christmas (he had naturally assumed it was a gag gift of sorts, but one never really knew with Rachel so he could never be sure). Kurt had never worn the horrid thing himself, but Blaine – Blaine looked undoubtedly hot in it!

Kurt was salivating like crazy as dozens of images with Blaine wearing nothing but that apron filled his mind, all of which managed to leave him half-hard and wanting once he came to his senses again. 'Not again,' he thought with a roll of his eyes.

Clearing his throat he asked Blaine what he was doing, hurriedly sitting down so that the hybrid wouldn't see his predicament that was thankfully shrinking rapidly after he had stopped thinking about the bunny and instead of his embarrassment.

"Oh, I-I'm making angel pancakes sir. Ehrm. Kurt. I… I wanted to show you how thankful I am that you are willing to take me in and take care of me…" Blaine answered him shyly, tripping over his words. Kurt was close to saying it really wasn't necessary, that he was happy to let Blaine stay with him (he didn't have to mention that he had actually bought him, not yet, not yet), but the bunny-boy looked at him so hopefully with big hazel eyes and floppy ears that he didn't have the heart to actually do so.

"Thank you Blaine," he said instead. "It smells delicious," he added truthfully, because it truly did smell divine. He had thought the pasta the night before had smelled extraordinarily good, but this, this was almost unexplainably good. Kurt couldn't believe the scent hadn't been the first thing he noticed.

"I'm almost finished with these, then I'm just going to set the table before you can eat. I'll eat something later." Blaine said returning his focus to the stove.

"Oh I can set the table," Kurt volunteered standing up, glad he could do something to help the young teen. "And I'm sure this will be more than enough for the both of us," Kurt continued, secretly unhappy that Blaine hadn't actually been planning to eat any of this himself. I must have taken the boy ages to make!

Not only were there a high stack of gorgeously smelling pancakes, but Blaine had also found the time to cut up a big bowl of fruit and make a pot filled to the brim with fresh, hot coffee that had Kurt drooling. Not to mention that all countertops, the sink and even the floor were much shinier and clean than Kurt could remember them being when he went to bed last night…

"You don't have to do that Kurt…" Blaine tried half-heartedly (he was actually quite amazed every time Mister Kurt did something the old sirs would never dream of doing, like watching Disney movies or helping with the chores, but it also left Blaine feeling like he was the one who should make things easier for Mister Kurt, not the other way around).

"Oh it's my pleasure Blaine!" Kurt assured him. "You already did everything else, setting the table is virtually nothing."

Placing the glasses and silverware he was carrying on the table he fetched the fruit and the coffee. Opening the refrigerator he asked Blaine what he would like to drink. "Juice? Milk? Water?"

"Water's fine, thanks," Blaine smiled in return, placing the last pancake on top of the others and turning off the stove.

"Okay, do you want some coffee too? I may be addictive to the stuff, but I don't think I can finish an entire pot by myself," Kurt laughed, closing the refrigerator, orange juice in hand.

"I can try some I guess," Blaine said hesitantly. "I haven't tasted before."

Kurt almost froze still where he was, arm reached into one of the cabinets. Never tried coffee? Kurt couldn't imagine a life without it. Blaine would not know how he ever made do without it once he had a taste.

"Well, that's something we'll have to fix immediately. A life without coffee, the horror!" he dramatized, holding a hand over his heart, making Blaine giggle.

Sitting down opposite the hybrid he poured them both a full cup of coffee each before settling down to watch the show.

He watched as Blaine tentatively sniffed the black liquid before taking the smallest of sips. Kurt smiled as Blaine's eyes widened at the taste, and he flat out grinned when Blaine took another sip.

"That good, huh?" he teased lightly, smiling widely at the hybrid who was still holding the cup with both hands, breathing in the warm fumes.

"That good," Blaine agreed fully. "Your turn, try the pancakes, please."

Kurt did, and damn if they weren't even better than they smelt! He outright moaned as he chewed his mouthful happily. He would get fat if everything Blaine cooked was this delicious.

"That good, huh?"

Kurt couldn't actually believer Blaine was teasing him back, but there was no way he would bring it up. Knock on wood and all of that.

"That good," he agreed taking another mouthful.

"Kurt, how many more shops are we going to go to today?" Blaine asked from the changing room where he was putting on yet another outfit Kurt had insisted he would simply have to try on. Kurt knew the hybrid was a bit tired and that his feet were probably a bit sore; they had been running around 5th Avenue for the last five hours searching clothes for Blaine to wear.

Kurt had finally decided Blaine shouldn't have to settle with just three changes of clothes, thus bringing him on an impromptu shopping trip to Kurt's favorite stores all over New York, along with briefly visiting a few places like Central Park and Broadway that he absolutely needed Blaine to see.

It had been three weeks since Kurt had brought the bunny-boy home with him and this was the first time Blaine had left the apartment. According from what the shorter boy had told him this was also the first time Blaine had been outside at all (the journey home to Kurt hadn't counted considering all he had seen was pavement and feet), that he had simply never been allowed to before by his old sirs or misses.

It had been amusing watching Blaine's ever changing facial expressions that day; from staring in utter awe as they rode a cab through the city to smiling brightly from joy when they took a short walk through Central Park, from the confusion when Blaine first laid eyes on a newly trimmed poodle to the peaceful look he wore as they had eaten lunch in a small café.

It had made Kurt see his loved city with new eyes as well; making him remember how astounded he was the first time he saw it all those years ago in high school.

"Maybe one more, tops. If those jeans look well enough I think we can skip going to Michael Kors, but only if those jeans fit. How's it going in there?" Kurt asked slightly concerned, Blaine had been in there for quite a while now…

"They're just a bit… tight. Umpf! Are you sure they are supposed to be this tight?"

"They are called skinny jeans Blaine."

Kurt shook his head fondly, going back to flipping through his new issue of Vogue with a smile on his lips.

Things had been going swell between the two of them these three weeks. Because even though Kurt had been spending those first few days trying to convince Blaine that the teen really didn't need to go around the apartment vacuuming or dusting he had eventually realized the bunny seemed at his happiest when he was actually allowed to tidy something up. Especially so if Kurt praised him for it. So, quite begrudgingly, he had allowed Blaine to clean anything he wanted to, though he often helped himself whenever he could.

Kurt liked to think that the two of them doing different chores together was what had made Blaine more talkative over the weeks; because even though the shorter boy was still shy it was such a far cry from the frightened little bunny that he had taken home with him. Nowadays Blaine would talk to him without averting his eyes to the floor every other sentence or beginning with those stammered little sirs every time they were to talk to each other.

But not everything that came along with Blaine's allowance to clean had been good. That first time Kurt had come home from work after that small discussion he had instantly been faced with Blaine – once again wearing that stupid apron – bending over to shut off the vacuum. Safe to say Kurt hadn't realized he had that little domestic kink until that very moment. Cold showers had become a regularity ever since.

And his little dreams hadn't stopped either, neither had the fantasies. If Kurt were to be honest they were probably only increasing in quantity, not to mention they grew more explicit and tempered over time, more often than not featuring the younger boy in that horrible though sexy apron. Kurt was constantly running around half-hard, and it was starting to affect his job because he couldn't for the life of him get the hybrid out of his head.

He didn't like the fact that his brain wouldn't shut up about the hybrid, even though everything hadn't been strictly sexual. If some little sex dream wasn't plaguing him it was a little though about how sweet the boy were or how beautifully his eyes shone whenever he smiled.

Kurt knew he was falling for the boy, and doing so fast, but he couldn't let himself do that. A future between the two of them couldn't be, it was impossible. Blaine was a hybrid and Kurt was human, there were laws against relationships that exceeded simply the sexual between the two.

And not only that, but Blaine was only sixteen. And because of Blaine's submissive nature Kurt would never know if it anything between them was real or just Blaine agreeing to Kurt's wishes. It was all just so wrong, so disgusting of him to even have these thoughts and feelings in the first place.

That was another reason why he wanted to go out shopping today, so he wouldn't have to watch Blaine running around in that little apron the entire day, making Kurt's resolution not to touch him slowly crumble and wither away.

But it had been very stupid of him to take Blaine shopping. Kurt had not thought of the countless changes of clothes Blaine would go through, and how the young teen would be half naked with only a thin wooden barrier between them with each one.

Kurt knew he was reaching his breaking point, that he might soon do something he would inevitably regret, so he prayed those pants would fit so they could just go home before he reached that limit.

They already had everything else Blaine might need, lots of different shirts and pants, a few scarves, hats and bowties and some shoes. He had been happy those few times Blaine had actually picked out something himself, like those red pants that actually looked really good on the hybrid. Now all they needed was one more pair of jeans and they were all set to go back home.

Kurt was suddenly jostled from his thoughts when Blaine came out from the changing room, making him look up at the stunning hybrid.

Seeing Blaine in those sinfully tight pants which hugged him in all the right places did things to Kurt. Bad things. Mouth wide open he stared at the hybrids luscious ass as Blaine twirled around, showing Kurt the clothes as he had been thought earlier that day.

"What do you think?" Blaine asked shyly, twisting his hands together but meeting Kurt's eyes which were blown and almost jet-black in color from sheer lust. Kurt couldn't think of an answer, he could barely think anything at all beyond 'hot' and 'want'.

Instead he simply stood up and pulled Blaine with him back into the changing room, much to the hybrid's confusion. Kurt pushed the boy up against the wall, still careful with him despite his clouded judgment.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, eyes darting down to the bunny's plump lips. It was wondrous Kurt was even capable of begging for Blaine's permission before simply ravaging him.

Blaine POV

"I don't know… yes. Yes Kurt," Blaine whispered, looking into Kurt's eyes. 'What did Kurt want? What was a kiss?' Blaine wondered as he watched his care-taker curiously.

Blaine could never deny Mister Kurt anything. He trusted his new sir beyond anybody else he had ever known, because Mister Kurt was different from everybody else. He treated Blaine like he mattered, like he was worth something. Blaine hadn't had that, not since he lost his childhood friends.

Blaine loved his new sir for that. He loved and adored Mister Kurt and would easily fallow him to the end of the earth, should that be what Mister Kurt wanted from him.

So even though Blaine didn't have the barest clue of what a kiss was, he knew that he would be safe anyway. He never felt any safer than when he was with Mister Kurt. That was why he said yes. That was why Mister Kurt could kiss him.

He could see how Mister Kurt leaned in towards him, crowding him even further against the wall, and suddenly he could feel the slight pressure of Mister Kurt's lips against his own.

Closing his eyes instinctively Blaine gasped from the tingling feeling on his lips, only to whine lightly when the pressure disappeared.

It only came back with much stronger force; taking him by surprise and making all the air in his lungs vanish. But he didn't care. He didn't know what this kiss was, or what it was about, but Blaine knew he liked it.

He could faintly feel how Mister Kurt's soft fingertips stroked his cheeks as they kept molding their lips together, and he could feel the shivers running down his spine. He could feel a hand curling around the back of his head, angling it just the tiniest bit so that Mister Kurt's lips could fit even better against his own.

Both of them breaking away when the craving for air became too great they looked into the other's eyes, and Blaine could see so many emotions running through his care-takers stormy eyes. Happiness, regret, sadness, fear and so many more he couldn't identify. What was running through his Mister Kurt's mind? What was making him so confused?

Questions that would undeniably be left unanswered.

Feeling Mister Kurt pulling away with a deep sigh Blaine just kept watching the man before him; wondering why Mister Kurt kissed him, why it felt the way it did, what it meant and why Mister Kurt was acting so differently afterwards. So many questions were filling up his head, but he knew he wouldn't ever ask Mister Kurt of the answers to any of them.

He watched as Mister Kurt shook his head before finally speaking, though what came out wasn't what he wanted to hear, and he was disappointed when Mister Kurt wouldn't even look into his eyes. Mister Kurt always looked into his eyes whenever he spoke.

"I… I think we should go home now. Those pants will do."