Hey everyone,
We can't tell you how amazing it is to see you reading, following and putting this story to your favourites list so early on. As promised here's the first chapter of this story, we hope you enjoy it and share your opinions on it with us.
A few things to address:
1. This chapter will seem a bit jumpy because it covers a time frame of a week and the events that are not necessarily connected to each other so to make it easier to track we have included time stamps that won't be present in the future chapters (if not necessary).
2. We have received questions about the warning we have put in the story description, one regarding abuse. The abuse themes we will mention have happened to one character, an important one but not Klaine, prior to the time frame of this story and will be gradually revealed. We will warn you of anything that might seem trigger -ish to any of you, for any reason, but overall this story will mostly focus on the love and the healing so in our opinion you are safe to read it :)
We hope you like this chapter and we'll see you next Sunday.
Love A&M
The Showing
Friday night
Blaine wasn't ready for it.
After years of waiting and hoping and searching in vain, getting a little more disillusioned as each Showing ticked past he wasn't ready for the reaction he had to finally finding him.
So different. So out of place. So beautiful.
It was chance that he caught sight of him. Through the throngs of bodies littering the huge room there was a flash of colour that drew his eye. Blue. Bright and brilliant and nothing he had ever seen before and he was helpless but to follow, drawn as if hooked.
A sub. His instincts went haywire with it for the first time in his life even though he'd been in the presence of many. A sub… and he didn't belong here.
It was shown by the perfectly put together but lower quality clothing that clung effortlessly and complimented expertly. Written in the wary line of his shoulders and closed off body language as he ducked into a doorway trying to be unobtrusive and peeked around the corner at the ballroom floor eyes alight with burning curiosity.
Those eyes.
He was stopped dead in his tracks by the most stunning shade of cerulean surrounded by thick, long fans of lashes, set in the loveliest face he'd ever had the pleasure to look upon and they were awed as they took in the spectacle that so disinterested Blaine- that had forced him into the shadows he was watching from right now. The air literally punched from his lungs as he observed the younger teen and Blaine felt a spark catch somewhere deep inside him and set fire to the blood in his veins as he greedily traced the sharp almost elfin features of this stranger's face and the long, lithe lines of his body that promised a natural grace and elegance that was enchanting.
Claim.
It was the pounding beat of his heart in his ears.
Blaine was honest to god considering walking over there and pinning the beautiful creature against a wall and marking him for everyone to see and the desire wouldn't let loose its hold. Instead it dug claws in deeper, almost urgent and Blaine found himself stepping forward once before he managed to take control again.
Fuck.
His shaky hands were gripping his champagne glass mercilessly but he could drag his eyes away long enough to set it down. He was lost in the striking arch of cheekbones and sweeping line of jaw. A pretty pink mouth that was lush and wide and a nose that was tipped and perfect and god help him a neck that was flawless porcelain skin, exposed from collarbone to ear just inviting him. Offering him.
His cock throbbed in response, filling and wanting.
Mouth dry, breathing heavy, he watched the fascinating war of emotions in micro expressions flick across that lovely face, seeing clear as day despite the distance that separated them and Blaine wanted- no needed- this males scent. He just needed one lungful. Just one and he'd know for certain.
Oh please let this be the one. He'd never seen anyone more perfect.
The music changed to something slower and more intimate and Blaine watched as the sub flushed a pretty pink at the displays both Dom and sub were exhibiting at this point. The reaction electrically charged Blaine like nothing he had ever experienced before. This sub was innocence personified. Oh so very pure and untouched and Blaine wanted to walk over there and drag him to his room and never let him leave his bed. But his legs weren't functioning. Nothing was. All he seemed capable of was staring, catching glimpses around the circling bodies that separated them and so he took full advantage, scanning his eyes back over one more time because he'd never get enough and his brain all but fizzled out of his ears when the sub shifted more around the corner and he saw that.
This sub had the absolute finest ass on this planet and Blaine didn't give a fuck if he dropped his jaw and growled. Loudly.
Oh god he just wanted to grab him. He wanted to lock him away purely for himself and that feeling of possessiveness only grew until he was physically trembling with it, until it had saturated his pores and for the first time he noticed his instincts going crazy inside his skin. Growling, shouting, demanding, begging Blaine to go and mark, mark, mark.
Claim.
A movement caught his attention just behind where the sub was tucked away and he finally moved his eyes to take in the sight of two burly Dom's- security- approaching the young sub and he bared his teeth a little.
They were about to speak to him, smell him, lay hands on him and the idea did not sit right whatsoever. In fact the sweat running down his back to pool at the bottom of his spine, the furious thrash of his heart in his chest that spiked his adrenaline was testament to just how thin a hold on his control he had at that thought.
That sub was his. There was no doubt in Blaine Anderson's mind, scent or not, that he had just found the submissive he wanted to permanently bond with.
The largest of the pair of private security guards wrapped ham like fingers around the top of the sub's arm and Blaine lost it.
His legs kick-started into action and it was a blur actually traversing the short distance between them, somewhere along the way he lost his glass, pushing past bodies uncaringly in his haste and then he was there and one inhale sealed the deal.
"Release him," Blaine snapped at the man and he was all loud authority, his voice weighted with the command that had even this Dom following immediately. The other however who had the subs's other arm wasn't so quick off the mark. Blaine felt a red veil descending and stepped up to him threateningly. The man around Blaine's height with a little more muscle but the younger Dom was unmoved as he put them nearly nose to nose. The man had his hands on his sub and that wasn't going to be tolerated. "I'll say it one more time. Release. Him. Now."
He let go.
"Mr Anderson, he isn't allowed to be here," the man said but Blaine ignored him. Also ignored the fact that the orchestra had ceased playing and the whole hall had turned to stare at the commotion, forming a loose semi circle around the doorway they stood at. He wasn't surprised really. Anything he did was always under scrutiny and a setting like this only magnified that.
He finally glanced to his left where he'd wanted to keep looking forever and glasz eyes met his for the briefest of moments, recognition flashing there in the swirls of blues, greens and greys before Blaine was grabbing a handful of the shirt at his waist and pulling him nearer. He knew he shouldn't have, but his body was on fire and he was feeling everything too intensely and he needed an outlet. However the closer proximity only worsened the effects and before he really registered the action he had his face buried into the soft curve of the sub's neck to a muffled gasp of shock that rippled throughout the room and it was everything.
Heaven.
And the sub's reaction?
He melted. Arched his neck as if he couldn't help it whatsoever, a small whimper vibrating against Blaine's nose and echoing in his ears, so fucking responsive and god damn pliant that Blaine's eyes rolled back in his head and his still very hard cock throbbed. He smelled of vanilla and springtime and Blaine just wanted to live here forever.
"Blaine…" it was a hesitant almost faraway female voice that sounded so very familiar. "Blaine you can't-"
He tuned it out.
"You are mine," Blaine whispered into silky skin under his lips now and heard another strangled gasp of shock only this time from the sub who had been the only one to hear it. That declaration was just for his ears, private and intimate before the Dom pulled back and met the dazed, panicked and hopelessly confused eyes of his chosen sub. He really was far more perfect up close than he could have ever imagined. Blaine was knocked almost stupid with it. He cleared his throat and declared loud for the whole room to hear. "I Blaine Anderson claim him."
The room broke into chaos but all Blaine could see were watery eyes looking almost heartbroken.
A week previously
Friday morning...
"With this year's Showing only a week away, all eyes are, once again, turned to Dom Dana Anderson and her handsome, yet seemingly unattainable son Dom Blaine.
For those of you who have been living in a cave for the past four years, Blaine Anderson is a senior at Dalton majoring in music and with a business minor which gives him the opportunity to join in on the family tradition and take over one of many companies the Anderson family holds in their possession. Charming looks, dapper demeanour and incredible talent have put Blaine Anderson at the top of our list of the most desirable Doms ever but what makes him even yummier is the fact that Blaine seems to be a bit of a bad boy.
And if there's one thing we can't resist, it's a bad boy reputation with just a smidge of mystery attached.
The mystery of Blaine Anderson lies solely in the fact that he has just turned 22 and he is still not bonded.
Yes you heard correctly!
The reason behind this unusual fact is unknown but there is one thing we can say for sure; it's not for the lack of opportunity.
Blaine has attended several social events in the past year and every time he had a different sub on his arm and even though they vary in age and physical appearance there are a few things all of them have in common: they are all beautiful, unbonded subs from some of the most influential families around.
What is Blaine waiting for we might never know, but sources close to the Anderson family tell us that his mother is slowly losing the patience for her beloved Blaine, especially after the almost textbook perfect bonding of her older son, the famous actor Cooper Anderson, at his first Showing when he was 18 years old.
"Dana is a kind person and a wonderful mother. She stood by both of her sons and supported them unconditionally, but I'm afraid Blaine has used the last of her patience."
Does that mean SHE will find him a sub?
Will he be forced to act interested at this year's Showing as opposed to last three years when he sat at his designated seat, filing his nails and scowling at the world?
Log into our live web show, watch the direct stream of The Showing and find out.
But one thing is for sure: we can expect an interesting week."
Lydia Carr
"The D/s Scoop"-Number one gossip magazine in the
country
William McKinley High school wasn't the fanciest school in the world by any means and the aesthetics of the dilapidated building showcased that spectacularly. Peeling paint that was off white, faded green and dulling red. Broken and flickering lights lined the ceilings inside interceded with chipped, oft times missing tiles. Lockers were dented, desks were almost beyond salvage, tattered copies of books rested in beaten shelves. McKinley was the epitome of a by-product for a poor community and so most of the students that went there preferred to be outside. At least the air was fresh and there were a few almost pretty trees over in the far corner to look at.
The backyard of McKinley High was bustling with students in hand me down or worn clothing walking around trying to find a decent place to sit which was pretty much an impossibility of course.
Amongst the almost rotten wooden benches and tables outside, there was a hierarchy; almost a caste system.
The jock Doms and their "subs of the week" sitting at the centre table, throwing the scarce pieces of food the school did manage to provide and yelling uninventive insults at people passing by.
Surrounding them were the in-betweeners. The Doms and the subs that didn't really fit anywhere but were still liked well enough to be left alone and then there were the ones who were willing to get 'friendly' with others just for the fun of it. In actual fact the latter made up quite a lot of the population at McKinley with a lack of options and instincts a considerable driving force.
At the far ends of the yard were the ones that didn't fit in whatsoever, didn't want to stoop so low as to look for their pheromone fix in a one night stand, and the ones who decided to commit social suicide by being friends with 'those kind'.
"God 'Cedes I can't believe you've wasted money on that crap," Kurt huffed in annoyance when his friend finished reading the latest piece of trashy news on the ever elusive Blaine Anderson. That glossy magazine in her hands was probably the newest thing in this place he noted absently.
The friends were sitting at the far table in the front yard of their school, picking through the unidentifiable piles of mush on their plates that their school decided to label food in a sudden rush of optimism. It was anything but food in Kurt's opinion and he was not going anywhere near that wiggly green thing piled at the edge of his tray he swore was an already digested pudding.
"Oh please boo…like I have the money to spend on this," she scoffed incredulously fingering the corner of a page, "My mom got it from the Lester's home. They allow her to take it once they finish reading it."
"And you've decided to read that out loud because…" he quirked an eyebrow at her and she made a face in his direction mocking his question childishly.
"Because it's good to keep yourself informed," she answered seriously flipping through the glossy pages of the magazine and stopping here and there to point out information she deemed relevant.
"There's so much wrong with that sentence I don't even know where to start," Kurt sighed pushing his tray further away from him because he couldn't stand looking at it any longer and Mercedes stuck her tongue at him.
"Well I find it interesting," she informed him flippantly and he cocked his head challengingly.
"Really?"
"Yes, Kurt. Really."
Kurt regarded her for a moment or two.
"Okay I'll take my chances and ask. Why is it that you find it interesting?" he asked her and she looked at him from underneath her eyebrows assessing if this was really a discussion she was willing to let herself fall into.
Arguing with Kurt tended to end badly for the person in the argument that wasn't…well…Kurt.
But her friend was giving her the "I challenge you" look and she hated backing away from that so she huffed and slammed the magazine shut crossing her arms on top of it.
"If you must know, the Andersons are the wealthiest, most influential family around. Their companies employ most of the people in this hellhole, they make sure the food we have in our stores isn't complete trash and we actually have running water..." Kurt quirked a mocking eyebrow at her again and she shrugged sheepishly conceding the point. "Well most of the time anyway."
Kurt laughed at that and Mercedes smiled at the light tinkling sound loving to see him happy like that. It happened so rarely lately and even though she knew why it still pained her to see him look almost defeated most of the time.
She knew how hard it was for him to get by in a school like theirs.
Kids that went to McKinley were practically the lowest of the low; with no money, no prospect of getting a higher education, or a decent job, and worst of all, almost zero chances of permanently bonding to someone.
And for someone like Kurt, someone who spent hours drawing a suit for his Presentation Ceremony, someone who had a box filled with cut out pictures of flower arrangements and sitting charts and invitation designs, it was even harder to exist in a place like that. Somewhere so seemingly hopeless.
"What happens most of the time?"-a voice came from behind them and they turned around to see a tall, blonde boy slide onto the bench next to Kurt, the tray he was carrying pushed aside near Kurt's because he too had no intention of eating the inedible muck.
"Mercedes here was telling me why we should be informed about the life of the Anderson family," Kurt informed Jeff as the blonde picked up his apple like he did every lunch time and leaned his head on Kurt's shoulder careful not to invade his personal space but still close enough for them to get comfort out of it.
"And what did you decide? Should we or should we not be informed?" Jeff asked and Kurt shrugged.
"Well she made a good point with them being pretty important around here and I guess considering most of our parents work for them in one capacity or another we should know what's going on, but it's at the reason for knowing things about Blaine Anderson's love life where I'm drawing a blank to be honest," Kurt informed a giggling Jeff, running a hand through the fringe that fell over his face and smirking at the scowling Mercedes.
"He is gonna take over the Anderson Empire someday you know. Cooper has a career in the movie industry and he doesn't want to be involved with the family business so it all falls to Blaine who is actually interested and capable to do it. But without a sub he's not gonna be the most stable person around. He might ruin everything," Mercedes said flipping her magazine back open to the relevant page. "And from the looks of it, his mother is done letting him run around unbonded."
"I feel sorry for the sub he bonds with," Kurt stated and Mercedes gasped, looking around herself in fear before leaning forwards on her elbows.
"Kurt are you out of your mind? What if somebody heard you? You can't go around talking trash about the Andersons like that!" she hissed at him on a whisper and he shrugged, the poor quality material of his shirt scratching at his sensitive skin as it always did.
"I just call it like I see it. They will tie a poor sub to him and make him wait faithfully while he's prancing around and Doming whoever he wants. Would you want a life like that?" Kurt asked honestly because the idea scared the hell out of him.
Mercedes looked at him angrily. "Some of us don't really have a choice," she bit out and Kurt jumped at how hurt her voice was.
He knew he hit a nerve with it.
She did have a Dom but their situation was far from ideal. With no money to go through the bonding steps there was no way they could bond permanently and as much as Kurt knew Sam loved his friend he also knew he could find another sub whenever he liked.
"'Cedes I didn't mean…" he tried but she was already on the verge of tears.
"Not all of us have the strength to be alone Kurt. Some of us have decided to grow up and face the fact that fairytales don't exist. I love Sam. And I know he loves me back. And maybe we're not forever but it's better than nothing," she said and Jeff jerked away from Kurt at her last statement looking every bit as insulted as she did only seconds ago.
"You were lucky Mercedes. Sam is a good guy and a good Dom to you. But don't think for one second that having a Dom is always a better option than being alone. You might be surprised," Jeff gritted out and she eyed him in surprise not really knowing what he was talking about and never had she heard Jeff sound quite so fierce before.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked and Jeff shook his head warningly at Kurt who was already taking a breath to launch himself into an explanation.
And maybe that irked her a little though she always chastised herself for it. Jeff and Kurt were close. Tied together with a thread of understanding that always eluded Mercedes but that didn't mean they weren't her friends.
"Nothing. I'm just expressing an opinion." Jeff said tensely as he stared down at the apple in his hand and Mercedes decided to drop it for the time being, noticing how upset Jeff seemed.
"Hey, honey. What's gotten you all riled up?" Sam stalked to their table with the same sweet smile he always wore but his eyes were wary, obviously sensing the tension in the air as he approached his sub.
He came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder and she visibly relaxed in an instant, letting out a long exhale and melting her back against him as all the tenseness dissolved. She turned her head to the side to catch at least the smallest whiff of his scent, citrus and the distinct scent of a Dom, which made her serene and grounded.
She didn't care what anybody else had to say about them, or about what the future held for them; she belonged to him right now and if that was all she was ever going to get…well then she'll make sure to bask in it while it lasts. Some people didn't even get to have this so she'd take it with open arms and smile on her face.
Sam supported her as he lowered his head and kissed her behind the ear, near enough to the mark on her neck, aligning his lips with the sensitive shell.
"You didn't answer my question pretty girl," he whispered commandingly in a low tone just for her and she craned her neck to look at him apologetically, barely containing the shivers the nickname awakened in her.
He only ever used that name to truly Dom her and she had no power over her body's reaction to the stimulus. The air around her thickened, her mind hazed over, and her heart thumped against her ribs as if begging to be let out so Sam could hold it and keep it forever.
There was no way she could let that feeling go; no way she could ever deny it."It's nothing serious sir. We got into a friendly argument about an article in a magazine," she answered hoping she didn't sound as breathless as she thought she did in front of Kurt and Jeff and relaxed when her Dom nodded; obviously satisfied with the answer he was given when he looked down at the tabletop to find the open magazine.
"Hi Kurt, Jeff," Sam smiled at the two subs and they nodded back in greeting almost hesitantly.
"Hi Sam," they murmured in unison, lowering their gazes as they were taught in class was appropriate in the company of an unbonded Dom.
Friend or no friend, such behaviour was ingrained into their very core; never look an unbonded Dom in the eye, answer his questions politely, never talk back… and as proud and headstrong as Kurt was, he was still a sub and his essence compelled him to give in to the power his Dom friend was letting out with his mere presence. So he listened to his instinct and bowed his head a just a fraction, but still enough to avoid eye contact.
"Guys…I told you a million times. You can act naturally around me. I know 'Cedes and I aren't legally bonded but I still consider her mine so you are free to look at me and talk to me," Sam assured with all the conviction he could conjure into his voice and counted it as a victory when the two subs sitting across from him lifted their eyes shyly and looked at him searchingly before accepting his smile easily.
"Thanks, Sam. It's just instinct to us when you're around," Kurt admitted with a trace of a blush over his own actions and Sam nodded seemingly deep in thought.
"I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. But I would really like you two to think of me as your friend as well. You mean the world to my girl and she means the world to me. So I want to be able to talk to the people who are so important to her without feeling like I'm pressuring you or making you jittery," Sam said, wrapping his arms around Mercedes and pulling her closer, the flowery scent of her shampoo that he insisted she wore all the time after smelling it on her the first time they got together, filling his nose and making his lips quirk in an involuntary smile.
It made him feel dizzy and in that moment he knew that money or no money she was the real deal for him and no girl would ever take her place. Permanent bond or no.
"That's really good to hear. 'Cedes is a lucky girl," Kurt smiled warmly, looking at his friend and doing his best to show her that he was wrong to judge their relationship earlier.
What they had was so obviously real it stole his breath and he nodded to her gently, making her smile in understanding.
"Well I'm glad we've settled that. Now I promised my girl I'd take a walk with her before class because I won't be around for the second half of the school day, so please excuse us," he smiled at the unbonded two subs and turned to his own whispering gently, "Ready, pretty girl?"
"Ready, sir." Mercedes smiled and stood up packing her magazine away in her bag before waving at her friends and taking her place half a step behind her Dom to avoid any misunderstandings with the other kids at school; her position clearly showing she was taken.
With one final wave the pair was gone leaving Kurt with a small smile on his face and Jeff still munching on his apple and leaning against Kurt as the soft breeze shifted their hair.
"You okay?" Kurt turned to his friend jiggling his shoulder teasingly. "You're awfully snuggly today."
"Had a bit of a rough night," Jeff murmured with an attempt of a disinterested shrug but Kurt knew him all too well. Knew that downturn in his mouth and the dullness that tarnished the deep chocolate in his eyes.
"Nightmares again?" he asked carefully and felt the exact moment his friend tensed against him and started picking at the tiny hole in the hem of his old white shirt.
"Yeah. Not as bad as before though so I guess that's good right?" Jeff glanced up and Kurt pushed his hair behind his ear gently in a soothing manner his mother used to do for him.
"You shouldn't be having them in the first place sweetie," he frowned feeling a pain all too sharp for his friend as Jeff snorted cynically.
"Yes well...that would be nice. But since I do have them the decreased intensity is a welcome change," the blonde muttered throwing the steam of his apple in the trashcan next to them fidgeting in his seat almost like he couldn't get used to being in his own skin before speaking again almost inaudibly. "Thanks for not telling her."
"Yeah…I almost blurted it out I'm sorry," Kurt snorted incredulously at his own inattention to what came out of his mouth and Jeff smiled at him.
"I don't think you'd have told her like that. I trust you. "Jeff squeezed his hand and bumped their shoulders together companionably and it made him feel better.
They sat in silence for a long while, sides lined up, just looking at their surroundings, both wondering if things would ever change for them; if it would ever get better. Kurt took in the Dom and sub making out against the wall shamelessly probably just to scratch an instinctive itch. The Dom jock's ordering the subs around them about like slaves just to feel like they had some sort of power. He saw the threadbare clothing that he loathed, that scratched his skin raw and made him long for things that could never be. But above all he saw the desolation. The desperation. And he knew Jeff saw it too, maybe even understood it better than him.
They hated the thought of spending the rest of their lives struggling to survive without a single percent chance to turn their lives around and become somebody.
They knew each other better than anybody else and as impossible as their dreams seemed to be they were similar and it brought them even closer together; that conviction that whatever they said, however foolish or romantic or unattainable, it would be met with an understanding smile and a shoulder to cry on over the improbability of it all.
"Do you ever envy her?" Kurt asked quietly after a while, knowing that Jeff would understand the question with him having to expand.
"Sometimes," Jeff admitted with a small shrug.
"I do," Kurt said bitterly and swallowed past the lump in his throat as Mercedes previous words echoed in his head.
'Some of us have decided to grow up and face the fact that fairytales don't exist.'
It was perhaps a cheap shot on her part when she knew just how hard Kurt wanted to believe that he could get out of here. Out of this pit of despair. Claw his way up and maybe, just maybe, someone would be there at the top to offer a hand so he didn't have to do it all on his own. But she wasn't wrong. It was a childish hope. A silly fantasy that just wouldn't leave his head or heart and it hurt him a little more as each second ticked by. Some days he just wanted to break down and cry at the injustice. To scream and rage at circumstances that was beyond his control.
He clenched his hand on the table edge.
"I envy her because she managed to make herself stop dreaming of things that she can never have. She could be bitter about the fact that she will probably never be his for real but she's not. She's learned to be happy with it. And I think she really is happy."
"I don't think I could ever truly envy somebody who gave up dreaming," Jeff whispered forehead creased with the weight of his thoughts and Kurt looked at him with a raised eyebrow a little surprised and a lot confused.
"What do you mean by that?" Kurt asked.
"She lives strictly in her reality because she's accepted the fact that it's the best it gets. And for her that may be true because she does have it good all things considered. But for me…living in reality alone would just mean accepting the fact that I'm broken beyond repair." He shook his head as if against the memories plaguing his mind and the watering in his eyes. "And I can't do that. I can't let go of the dream that I'm still whole and undamaged. That someday someone will really want me. As long as I don't make peace with this reality I can go to that place every once in a while. I can go there and be happy. Even if it isn't real. She can't do that anymore," he explained haltingly and Kurt felt his heart break just a little bit more as he turned on the bench and hugged his friend closer.
"You're not broken sweetie. You're still beautiful." Kurt whispered against his fair hair and Jeff clung to him tighter with clenched eyes wishing that he could believe him just for a moment.
Sunday morning
"Good morning sunshine!"
The piercing sound of his mother's voice made Blaine stumble and smack his elbow against the doorknob as he shuffled blearily into the dining room barefoot and in his pyjamas. The room was ridiculously large for just the three of them living in the huge mansion style house, but all the rooms were the same. The décor was done in soft shades of crème, with subtle gold accents that fit in wonderfully with the mahogany furniture.
In the middle of the room was a large ornate table that stretched to seat sixteen, with high-backed chairs tucked neatly underneath that were surprisingly comfortable. Various paintings from some of his parent's favourite artists also lined the wall with the customary family renderings and photographs and despite the intimidating size of the place; everything about their house was a home. It was comfortable and functional and not as pristine as people expected it to be and Blaine wanted it no other way.
Throwing himself into the chair and making grabby hands at the coffee pot until his dad took pity on him and handed it over, he attempted a glare in his mother's direction but, as always, it came out more adorable than angry.
He just had one of those faces.
"Mooom!" he whined pathetically, voice scratchy as he cradled his cup against his naked chest like it was a precious child and tried to keep his dropping eyes open. "Yelling 'good morning sunshine' at a hung over person to make their head explode is the oldest and the lamest cliché in the world."
"I've decided to think of it as a classic instead of a cliché," Dana Anderson replied regally, all false airs and graces and Blaine scoffed at her mockingly.
"If that makes you feel better about being lame…go right ahead," he sassed and she threw a crumpled napkin at him.
"It does actually," she stuck her nose in the air snobbishly making the two men chuckle before turning to look at her son again a glint in her hazel eyes. "Speaking of making me happy…"
"Mom-" Blaine warned knowing full well where she was going with that but she lifted her hand and he was suddenly reminded why the tiny woman he considered his best friend was practically feared in their society. Perfectly put together with a neat chignon, dressed in a soft white chiffon shirt tucked into fitted dress trousers it was deceptive just how intimidating she could manage to be despite her smaller size.
"The Showing is next week," she barrelled on as if she was never interrupted, placing a hand upon a trashy looking magazine placed neatly next to her plate and tapping her beautifully manicured nails against the shiny cover, and consequentially, his face that had been splashed there.
"I am aware of that, yes," the young man sighed in resignation knowing that there was no way out of that conversation. There never was.
"Is it safe to assume that my beloved son, the fruit of my loins, the product of thirty five painful hours of labor, will stop making a spectacle of himself and actually show up?" she asked faux innocently and he spat the bite of toast he had been munching on grumpily in a napkin, making a disgusted face at her and a betrayed one at his father who just sat there with no apparent intention to get him out of this mess.
"Okay mom, first of all NEVER say loins in front of me again. Second of all you delivered me via C section. It's Cooper that made you suffer, I was nice even as a baby. And third of all we already talked about it this year, and every year before that, and I'll tell you what I told you every time you asked. I'll make an appearance," he replied succinctly and his mother sighed heavily, rolling her eyes at him.
"Blaine…making an appearance was good enough when you were eighteen, and it was barely good enough when you turned twenty. But now you're twenty two and you're still not bonded and simply making an appearance just won't cut it. The press is already eating us alive; I can't go five feet without a microphone shoved up my nose asking me about you," she ranted in an exasperated voice and her husband frowned at the sense of her discomfort rising from her.
Feeling the natural urge of a sub to make his Dom feel better, Jared shifted his seat closer so their sides were touching and grasped her free hand in his. Doms and subs needed physical contact like they needed air and it was especially pressing when their instincts rose to take the better of them.
The moment he intertwined their fingers Dana sagged into her chair, looking into Jared's eyes lovingly and tugging at her sub until he rested his head in the crook of her neck; a position most comforting for the both of them. The neck was a highly sensitive and vulnerable spot on both a Dom and sub given the location of their marks- though more so for the latter- and it could be used in sexual, soothing or claiming manners depending on the situation and emotion at the time.
Blaine eyed their interaction and felt his heart skip a beat.
That's what he wanted; what he craved for.
His parent's weren't just randomly shoved together. They chose each other out of pure love and want. A proper claiming. A proper bonding. They worked together as a team to maintain their fortune and they lived happy, stable, fulfilled lives. And now he had to go and cause trouble. He felt guilt start to eat at him knowing he had caused them such distress. He averted his eyes down at the table and frowned at the plate of food in front of him appetite completely vanished.
"I'm sorry mom," he apologised quietly but oh so sincerely, his heart in his voice and she shook her head at him in dismissal.
"No…no honey I don't want you to be sorry. Blaine…Blaine listen to me," she said when he refused to raise his head. "I know why you hate those things. And I know what you're waiting for, what you're looking for. But sweetie, just sitting there for five minutes doesn't really give you the right picture of a sub."
Previous Showings flashed through his brain and so did a string of rich, entitled subs preening in his minds eye. He shook his head to clear the images.
"Mom they're all the same," he complained finally looking her in the eye with a miserable expression on his face and she laughed sweetly, Jared shifting happily against her un-tucking himself from her neck but staying plastered to her side.
"Do you really think your dad looked any different from the rest of the losers doing back flips and flailing about with inflamed swords?" she asked in amusement and Jared scowled in mock offence.
"I resent that. In my version I swept my lady off of her feet with my amazing knife throwing act," Jared declared and his Dom looked at him lovingly.
"Yes honey. I was sitting at my table thinking to myself if only I had a sub who could throw knives at unmoving objects I could die happy." He made a noise of protest but she bumped his shoulder with hers teasingly, kissing his forehead and making him almost purr instead of pout.
"It could come in handy someday you never know," Jared nodded resolutely, refusing to let the subject go entirely, before getting up to get some more juice from the kitchen leaving his wife and son to chuckle amusedly at him.
"If it didn't come in handy in thirty years I doubt it's ever going to," she practically sang to him as he went before turning back to Blaine who was grinning. "My point was, he looked just like the rest of them. And then at the end of the evening he approached me, knelt before me because that was the way back then, and asked if he could have the honor to share one dance with the most beautiful Dom he had ever seen. I said yes and I gave him my hand to stand up. As he was getting up he gazed up into my eyes and I knew Blaine, I knew that he was the one I wanted. I claimed him as he was kissing my hand at the end of the dance."
Blaine's head had sunk into his hand, elbow propped on the table as he listened intently. "He was special to you," he concluded, tearing up at the familiar story for the millionth time. In his mind the romance of it never got old and it panged his heart because he wanted- no needed- that for himself and he didn't understand what was wrong with him that he couldn't find it.
"He was special to me," she confirmed quietly looking directly at Jared as he walked back into the dining room carrying a pitcher of orange juice mouthing, "It was the knives," to his son who let out a watery chuckle despite his heavy thoughts.
"What if I don't find him?" he asked fearfully after a brief pause where glasses were refilled and Dana got up to stand next to her son.
"Then you don't find him," she reassured adamantly cradling his curly head in her small hand. "Blaine, press be damned you are the most important thing in my life and if I can avoid it I will never make you claim someone you don't want at least a little bit. But I want you to try. I want you to go to the Showing, talk to people, talk to some subs, dance with them, get involved. And if none of them is the one for you then fine. But I want to know you put yourself out there and really tried."
Blaine stared at his hands for a few long minutes, fighting with his own mind as his mother pet his unruly hair soothingly before taking a deep breathe and finally looking back up and nodding.
"Okay…I'll go and I'll try. Really try. I promise." Dana stooped and hugged him tightly just like she did when he was a kid and afraid of thunderstorms or other such silly things before he grew out of them.
"That's all I ask sweetie," she whispered and placed a kiss on top of his head. Blaine squeezed her tighter trying to find the confidence she had in himself.
The Showing
Friday, early evening
The Andersons had had their fingers in everything for decades. They had the keys to the kingdom in a way and in a society where money was one of the most deciding factors, when you controlled something as vast as the Anderson Enterprises it wasn't any wonder that your name was known across the globe.
Being a child to a legacy like the Andersons really had the potential to feel like having your legs chained to an anchor and being shoved into the churning depths; you either sank or swam if you could wrestle yourself free.
Blaine felt lucky in a way. Lucky that his parents understood and supported him when he saw so many other people in his position drowning under the weight of their parents expectations.
Blaine had always done his best to keep his head above water in the first years of his life and make his mother and father proud. Top grades, achievements, acclaim. He was to set an example for the other Doms that looked to him for guidance from such a young age.
It was part of the reason why he was currently here at the event he dreaded every year.
Now twenty two, his excuses weren't cutting it. And in reality Blaine really did want to find a sub. It was an ache deep inside him, a longing for that other half of himself so he could feel whole. An almost primal need by this point to care for someone, to exert a small measure of control to satisfy the Dom in him, to possess and own in the most loving way.
By express request that he had dodged too many times now he had bared the media circus outside, gritting his teeth as camera, after microphone, after question was thrown his way like he was a movie star on a red carpet. It was… frustrating. The hungry, expectant looks. The demand. Like he was personally insulting all the subs attending and their parents by not claiming that particular sub as his own.
He hated the spectacle of it. The false masks and simpering. In all honesty Blaine felt disillusioned by it all.
So here he stood, decked out in thousands of dollars worth of Armani getting hammered at the bar but doing it with a smile. I'm trying, he thought in his mother's direction as he threw back another flute of champagne like it was whiskey in a shot glass.
He needed the fortitude before the actual Showing began. The subs had already been given their performance schedules and pretty soon all the Doms would be seated at their tables to observe and applaud the various talents- more outrageous every year in a bid to stand out- and see who took their fancy.
It had never happened for Blaine. In fact there was one too many photos circling of him looking far too bored as a sub did cartwheels through a flaming hoop. It was predictable… which sounded stupid because it was anything but in reality, but the pageantry of it all was always the same. Subs and their families trying to one up one another with feats bigger than the last and it was tiring to watch the utter drama. Nothing felt honest. Nothing was simple.
He scanned too clear, hazel eyes down the bar and motioned to the bartender by cocking his empty glass, a droplet hanging off the rim succumbing to gravity and splashing against the gilt countertop. Blaine followed its progression leaning forwards on his elbows, trying to look interested just in case Dana looked over. Lazily swinging the empty glass in his grip Blaine peered around the marble inlaid function room, at one of the more prestigious hotels here in Westerville, with a detachment of someone who had seen this type of thing one too many times before.
Sparkling chandeliers hung from the ceilings catching light and twinkling like stars, the black marble floor was polished to a high shine and the stage was primped and preened to perfection, tables arranged to have the perfect view from all angles and covered in pristine white clothes with flower bowls arranged in the middle as centerpieces. And scattered all throughout were the Doms and subs practically dripping in glitz and glamour, toting designers and smiling perfect white teeth at everyone.
Blaine craned his neck, gazing through the crowd and trying to catch sight of someone he actually liked to keep him company and save his soul from dying out of sheer boredom.
Most of his friends were already bonded and happy but he was certain at least one of his friends from the Warblers was still unattached and mingling around.
"Anderson," a voice to his left snapped him out of his macabre observations and he turned to see the handsome, tall figure of Kevin Landon next to him, a tumbler of amber liquid in hand. He was two years below Blaine at Dalton before he mysteriously transferred and was more commonly known for his first attempt and failure at a bond when he was just eighteen.
The young man had a commanding posture and an air around him that screamed old money, class and aristocracy to everyone who had never met him.
Blaine knew him.
And he didn't like him.
"Kevin, how are you?" Blaine asked politely straightening up his posture, trying to keep his tone in check to avoid revealing his utter horror at being forced to engage in a conversation with the other Dom.
The man scanned the crowd, more noticeably resting on a pretty little blonde haired sub that ducked her gaze away when it met his. He smirked and turned it on Blaine an almost feral light in his eyes. Having this many subs and Doms in one place always produced strong reactions. "How could I be anything but amazing with this kind of turn out?" he laughed gleefully. "I admit last year I was a bit worried the standards had slipped but the subs are looking pretty damn good from what I've seen."
Blaine tried not to show his displeasure at the 'standards' comment. "Everyone looks lovely as always."
He tried not to let himself stress the last word as he pretended to do the exact same thing his companion was doing by scanning the room, when in reality he was looking for someone, anyone to get him out of the unwanted conversation.
He spotted a carefully styled mop of silky brown hair that he could have sworn belonged to one of his best friends Dom Nicholas Duval, and wasn't there a rule that commanded best friends to save other best friends from stupid people?
Kevin gave him a snort and look of disbelief. "Surely someone has caught your eye by now? You have the perfect vantage spot here."
Blaine glanced down at his empty glass. He didn't exactly choose it for the view. He felt a jolt to his shoulder and looked back up to see Kevin had his back to the bar and was following someone intently with his eyes.
"What about that one, huh? He's got 'fuck me' written all over him," he practically purred and Blaine followed his gaze until it rested on a small redhead that was doing practically unspeakable things to the straw in his drink. It wasn't coy and it was one hundred percent designed to garner attention. Blaine flicked his eyes away and saw that a willowy brunette female was doing to same in a different corner.
He rolled his eyes unimpressed.
"Because blowing a straw is suddenly a highly sought after skill now?"
Kevin grinned lavishly. "It showcases other talents that are far more relevant."
"Apparently half the room is showcasing that," Blaine pointed out and Kevin gave him an exasperated look.
"You know what your problem is, Anderson?"
"Enlighten me."
"You're too picky."
Blaine frowned feeling his blood rise at the insult and his own mother's words echo around his mind and got defensive. "I don't think having actual standards is called being picky. Maybe you're just too easy to satisfy. Maybe one suck on a straw isn't enough reason for me to claim somebody."
"Wow, touchy subject, Anderson? Well I guess it would be for me too if I had gone without a sub fix for so damn long. But luckily, I'm not you. Enjoy the show," Kevin drawled as he tipped his glass back, downing the rest of his champagne before winking at Blaine and scampering away before Blaine had the chance to pull hit wits together, do something beneficial for the entire community and knock him out cold.
"I take it he's not your favourite person in the world?" an amused voice chuckled from behind him and he turned to glare at his friend.
"What gave me away?" he deadpanned and Nick chuckled lightly.
"You had that broody miserable scowl going on. It's both amusing and painful to watch," Nick nodded seriously as he accepted the glass of scotch from the bartender and swirled it around in his hand making the ice cubes clink merrily.
"Yeah well…I don't like him." Blaine said bluntly and Nick nodded in understanding.
"I know. Neither do I."
"Why don't you like him?" Blaine asked curiously playing with his still empty glass.
"I don't know. There's always been something about him that irked me. He has snobbish face that just screams I'm better than all of you and it irritates me. You?"
"He's an ass," Blaine said and Nick laughed, shaking his head at his friend.
"Well it's good to know your hate is rational," Nick laughed and turned to look at the crowd slowly making their way towards their seats.
He glanced at his watch and realized they had about three more minutes before The Showing started.
"Come on grouchy. Let's watch the show. Maybe you'll find someone who's not an ass."
Blaine growled running a hand over his face miserably trying to pull his shit together. He had to do this. He was doing this. He'd get over himself and actually sit down and evaluate his options like all the other Doms in the room. It was only fair to the subs that actually must have put a lot of effort into their talents and this night despite his dislike of many of the acts.
"We invite the unbonded Dominants and other guests to take their seats. This year's Showing is about to commence," a projected voice came from the stage and Blaine felt his heart speed up. He could be positive about this couldn't he? Maybe the one for him would really step out onto that stage? Maybe they'd surprise and knock him off his feet?
With that resolve and a glass full of champagne once more he moved to his table where his mother and father were already seated right in front of the stage. They were Andersons after all, which was mildly inconvenient for Blaine when all the subs did was stare at him hungrily while they performed. It was as unwelcome as it was disconcerting.
Dana met his eye as he sat down and gave him a small, hopeful smile that he couldn't help but return. Maybe, he thought as the lights dropped and the thick velvet curtain went up.
Friday afternoon
"You never talk about it," Kurt mentioned quietly to Jeff on the Friday of the Showing as they lounged on the handmade bench in the middle of the garden behind Kurt's family home.
A tiny, one-story house was positioned at the end of a dusty street and surrounded by a modest, but well kept garden, painted a faint beige colour that long ago turned gray and chipped at the corners. The change of season from summer to fall was obvious in the way leaves in every shade of yellow, red and orange covered the ground, the way the flowers Kurt cared for so much all turned darker and dried and the way the air around them prickled their skin as they both took deep breaths and relaxed after a long day at school.
The brunette male was sitting up, facing the street and leaning against the back of the chair and the wall said chair was pushed up against. He was wrapped up in his favourite knitted vest; dark gray and made out of softest wool over a simple white shirt. His mom saved for years before being able to make a deal with a local tailor to get her the wool to knit it for her son's birthday.
She had the foresight to make it really big so he could gradually grow into it and wear it for as long as possible as she had no idea when she would save enough money to make something so high quality for him again.
He loved the thought of her hands touching the soft wool as she made it, thinking of how happy he would be to have it.
And he was.
The vest was one of his favourite possessions even if he didn't have that many in the first place and he tended to wear it strictly inside the house when he was doing nothing to avoid ruining it in any way.
His friend was currently curled up under a thin blanket with his head in Kurt's lap, nose burrowing in his stomach and his fist clutching the end of the blue material under his chin to ward off the chill of the coming Ohio weather.
At Kurt's question his breath got caught in his throat and he stiffened making Kurt squeeze his eyes shut and regret his decision to ask. He knew the week of The Showing was always tough for Jeff so he kept his mouth shut as a general rule but there was something just nagging at the back of his mind this year and he couldn't stop himself.
"Sorry. Forget I mentioned it," he apologised softly, lifting his hand to run his fingers through Jeff's hair. It seemed to soothe him every time he did it.
"Kurt you're my best friend. You know the worst about me. If you want to ask something you're allowed to ask," Jeff replied after a brief pause and turned his head up to look at his friend who was still blushing, obviously embarrassed at his outburst.
"Oh…okay," the brunette breathed out relieved and Jeff smiled at him with a tiny spark in his eye that Kurt loved to see. It lit up the chocolate and made him appear younger and happier and untroubled for the short minutes it was there.
"I can just choose not to answer," he shrugged with a smirk tugging with the corners of his mouth and Kurt stuck his tongue out at him playfully.
"Oh ha ha. You're hilarious."
"Yeah well. Between the two of us somebody has to be," Jeff sighed dramatically lolling his head to the side and Kurt laughed again twirling a lock of blonde hair around his finger and imagining how incredibly shiny and soft it could be with the right product; product which they didn't have. He refused to think about the state of his own hair. It was no use crying or pining over something you'd never had.
They fell into a short silence before Jeff turned on his back on the bench and looked up at nothing in particular, his head still resting on Kurt's thighs.
"I was prepared for it my entire life," he eventually spoke with a heavy voice and Kurt lowered his eyes to look at him, his heart breaking at the sight of a sad shadow crossing his friend's face.
"Sweetie you don't have to tell me anything if it's making you uncomfortable." Kurt cut in before Jeff could go any further. He remembered how awful it was to watch Jeff break apart when he'd told him his deepest, darkest secrets and he'd do anything to spare his friend more of that pain. Especially if it was just to appease his selfish curiosity.
"No it's okay. I can tell you what you want to know," Jeff reassured sounding determined, like he needed to get it out and prove something to himself and Kurt nodded cupping his cheek and smiling at him reassuringly.
"Just tell me what you feel like you can share. Nothing more than that," Kurt suggested supportively and Jeff nuzzled his hand gently before looking into the distance once more.
"Growing up I thought it was nice. Kind of romantic maybe, I don't know. I was a stupid kid."
Kurt's hackles rose on Jeff's behalf even if it was the person himself that was degrading him. "You weren't stupid, Jeff. I think every sub hopes for the best growing up. There's nothing wrong with that."
Jeff shrugged, brows lowering.
"I guess so. But anyway…I was wrong. It was everything but romantic and nice," he snorted in derision.
"Did you have to train for the showing?" Kurt asked and the cynical laugh that bubbled from Jeff almost scared him.
"It's not training. It's like a lifestyle. Every second of every day is dedicated to learning the new and exciting ways to attract a Dom and satisfy a Dom and keep your Doms interest. Nothing I ever did was important to me. I did what I was told and nothing more. It was like I wasn't even important," Jeff explained harshly and Kurt reached out and took his hand with his own, giving him a reassuring squeeze trying to telegraph that he was important to Kurt.
"What did you have to learn?" he asked knowing full well that Jeff could clam up like he used to if he touched a sensitive subject.
"How to talk, how to behave in front of a Dom, how to draw their attention…everything," Jeff answered and from the tone of his voice it seemed like they were still in the safe territory.
"That sounds a bit boring. Didn't you learn regular subjects too? And art?" Kurt asked frowning a little and Jeff gave him another bitter laugh that chased chills across his skin. He hated Jeff like this. His sweet, soft, warm best friend.
"Just enough not to be stupid in front of your Dom. And arts were taught just so you could show off at The Showing. If you could call that art that is," he snorted and Kurt frowned harder at him trying to keep up.
"What do you mean?"
"I wanted to dance, or sing. I'm…well I guess I'm decent at that. But they said it wasn't exciting enough. That the whole point of The Showing was to draw attention and to be noticeable so my suggestions were overruled," Jeff explained, sitting up and wrapping the blanket tighter around his body as he sat the right way knees drawn up to his chest.
"So…what did you end up doing?" Kurt asked, a calculating look on his face as he tried to think of something artsy that would be flashy enough to catch attention.
"Frbttntwrlng," Jeff mumbled and Kurt frowned at him as the blonde boy blushed furiously.
"I beg your pardon."
"Don't make me repeat it, Kurt."
"I'm not making you repeat it because then I wouldn't understand it again. I'm asking you to say it loud and clear," Kurt smirked, now finally realizing that it was probably a little bit embarrassing.
"I hate you," Jeff declared miserably and Kurt shrugged like he hadn't a care in the world.
"I don't mind. Now what did you end up doing, Jeffrey?" he asked sweetly and his friend glared at him.
Silence stretched around them but Kurt allowed it to settle, waiting patiently with an amused smile on his angelic face and then…
"Fire baton twirling."
Kurt clapped a hand across his lips but it was way too late. A snort resembling a smaller earthquake ripped out from his mouth and Jeff smacked him upside the head.
"Shut up!"
"Oh my gooood." Kurt doubled over laughing like an idiot and his friend was unable to do a single thing apart from sitting there and waiting for him to calm down.
Which he did…twenty minutes later…
"It's priceless. Fire baton twirling. PRICELESS!"
"Yeah well, didn't really have a choice there now, did I?" Jeff snapped and just like that Kurt's laughing fit ended and the heaviness of their talk made them both curl up tighter.
There was suddenly silence.
"I've never liked the thought of it," Kurt said after a few minutes with a gentle shrug of his shoulder.
"What, The Showing?"
"Yeah. I remember the first time my mom took me to the flower shop with her. She was making all these huge arrangements and they were awful. So I asked her why she was making them like that when they weren't pretty. And she sat me down and told me about the event and how people asked for those particular arrangements because they were the most expensive even if they were ugly and I knew that that was wrong. Money doesn't equal beautiful, or good or worthy. Since then I've helped the flower shop make arrangements for The Showing every year. And every year they get bigger, and uglier. But every year they cost more, and every year I hate it more," he explained bitterly and Jeff wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "They waste so much money on ugly flowers and people in Lima can't pay for their bonding, they can't afford quality food so they get sick and when they get sick they can't afford medicine. And they waste thousands of dollars on awful arrangements. It shouldn't be that way."
"I know. But I've been on the other side. And let me tell you something…I wouldn't trade your friendship for all the ugly flowers in the world," Jeff said trying to lighten up the mood and Kurt gave a small giggle leaning back against his friend.
"Right back at you," he whispered and together they sat on that bench until Kurt's dad called him to tell him that he met his boss in the town and that she told him to tell Kurt to come to the shop to make 'ugly flower arrangements'.
And if Jeff's amused giggles escorted him down the street…well…that's what best friend are for.
Ever since he was little and his mother gained permission for Kurt to come in and join her occasionally to watch her work, Mae's Flowers had always awed him. It was one of the prettiest buildings he had actually seen with his own two eyes and not just in grainy pictures or the occasional magazine Mercedes mother managed to get for her.
Red brick with white filigree around the roof in ornate patterns, it was classically, beautifully decorated with ceiling to floor windows that sparkled, but what really arrested and held your attention were the beautiful arrangements that could be seen within and from the hangings around the door.
Kurt had fallen in love with the place and was elated when the owner occasionally asked him to take his mother's old spot when they had big orders.
Mae Pendle was a sub whose Dom had a good enough job that allowed her to pursue her passion and had noticed that Kurt had a passion and flair for arrangements from a very young age. It's why she tolerated him with soft smiles when he joined his mother, never misbehaving, wide eyed and absorbing everything and sometimes if he was really lucky Mae would have some spare stems and drabber flowers he could practice with.
The pay was more than he had ever expected, nothing over the top and never frequent enough to help his situation, but to him it was a fortune. It meant that maybe he could help his father treat his family to a decent meal for once, maybe with a little left over for a little material to patch up clothes and he never forgot to buy Jeff his candy. The smile that lit up his face was worth every penny and his best friend would hug him tight and split the treat exactly evenly. It wasn't much… but then it was everything at the same time.
Walking inside he took a deep breath inhaling all the different floral scents and feeling his body relax. He was at home here among the roses and lilies and it was always worth the hour bus ride to the better part of town.
"Kurt!" the raspy tone of Mae exclaimed upon seeing him. He glanced over to the counter and garish clashing colors and winced. This year they had requested large bows and diamantes it seemed and it was all so busy, detracting from the natural beauty of the flowers, draining the color away and drawing the eye to the monstrous orange ribbon.
He shuddered but kept his mouth firmly shut on the matter.
"Hi, Mrs Pendle. My dad said you needed me?"
"Kurt, I've told you a hundred times call me Ma-hey, Alisa, I told you not the rose petals in the bowl!" she threw up her hands exasperatedly as her attention was drawn. Kurt noticed that she was stressed.
Every year the orders got more ridiculous and more outrageous and the time frame they gave her kept getting increasingly narrower, like they just expected her to meet their demands without any trouble or fuss. The flyaway strawberry blonde hair pilled high on her head and straggling around her beautifully aged face haphazardly said differently. She was frazzled.
"Where do you need me?" he asked approaching the counter that was covered in ribbons and cut stems.
"Please save Alisa from herself? I think she's lost the plot!" Mae begged in a whisper grabbing an armful of lavender.
Kurt ducked his head and laughed quietly as he caught sight of the lost looking sub in the corner. She was the regular girl who worked for Mae, working the counter while Mae filled orders in the backroom. She never was much good with actually arranging but she was a part of Mae's Doms family as Kurt understood it. There was no replacing her unless she was really affecting business- which she didn't.
"Sure. What are we doing this year?"
"I've got the actual arrangements almost done but the centerpieces they wanted were flower bowls. Different colored crystals at the bottom and daffodil petals in the water." Kurt scrunched his nose. How did they even think that would work? At least it wasn't as bad as the arrangements…Mae must have read his face.
"I know," she grumbled as if pained, looking towards the ceiling. "Trust me, I know."
But this was the biggest order of the year for her, if she didn't meet what they wanted exactly they'd go somewhere else and she'd lose money. It could even break her business if they started badmouthing her; after all it was all the families in attendance that actually had the money to buy flowers unfortunately.
"Okay I've got it covered," he assured rolling up his sleeves.
"You're a godsend," she grinned in relief before scurrying back to the backroom.
The hours passed quickly after that and with Kurt guiding her, Alisa wasn't as much as a hindrance as she had looked from across the room. She just needed someone to guide her and Kurt was happy enough to walk her through things, getting lost in the soft petals.
Finally they were done and Kurt was helping load things into Mae's van.
"Okay," the older woman breathed slamming the door shut and wiping her brow. "Kurt would you mind terribly coming with me to help set up? I know you normally don't but it's such a big order this year and I'll pay you for your time."
He faltered for all of two seconds. Go to the Showing? His mind flitted back to his and Jeff's conversation from earlier feeling apprehensive about going there but it all boiled down to facts… Kurt couldn't turn it down. He needed the money.
"I…yeah . Yes I'll help," he managed to stuttered out and Mae beamed.
"Great!" she clapped her hands and before he knew it Kurt was phoning his dad to let him know the change of plans, before he was piled into the van next to Alisa on the front seat nearest to the window and he couldn't help but gape as they drove further and further and ended up in Westerville. Kurt had never, ever been here before and he stared wide eyed at the pristine buildings, well kept establishments and well dressed people scurrying around.
It was nothing like Lima. No litter, no graffiti, no buildings falling in disrepair, no homeless Doms or subs roaming the streets.
Kurt had to blink and pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
And then they were pulling up in front of largest building he had ever seen. It was scary and intimidating and Kurt shrunk in its presence feeling out of place, awkward and completely unworthy.
A valet came up to assist them and then they were directed around the back entrance so they could unload and began carrying in the many arrangements into the main function room. Kurt was embarrassed to say he stumbled a step as he took in the place with awe in his gaping expression.
It was rich. It was outstanding. It was like nothing Kurt could ever picture.
He spotted the bare tables, the gilt bar lined with every kind of alcohol in pretty displays, the polished ballroom floor and then there was the stage at the far end taking up and entire wall.
God, what would it be like to involved in something like this?
Kurt wasn't even sure if he liked the effect of the place after the initial shock wore off. He didn't like the oddly tingling feeling in his skin as his brain shouted he didn't belong here. The exaggerated wealth was suddenly distasteful especially when he looked down at the arrangement in his hands. There wasn't any taste, they just threw money at things and didn't appreciate the effects. They saw dollar signs and not beauty and Kurt wasn't surprised that Jeff's naivety had been dashed in a place like this.
Shivering with a sudden want to get home he walked over to where Mae was piling things and helped unload the rest of the flowers and bowls. He took off his vest and placed it carefully on a side table out of the way and pretty soon the monstrosities were set up exactly as asked and Mae was fiddling and flitting about looking from every angle to make sure they were perfect…or well as perfect as something so distractingly ugly could get.
Another hour passed by and it was starting to get late. He knew his father would be starting to worry about him but after a thorough inspection by a few Doms Kurt guessed had ordered them and were hosting the Showing this year they were finally done.
Lead into an expensive looking office Kurt and Alisa stood quietly in the corner while Mae went over the paperwork for her payment, settling everything and double checking sums and figures with the Doms on the other side of the large desk who wanted to know the ins and outs of everything apparently.
It took longer than he was expecting in all honesty but finally they were let out of the room, free to go, completely done.
It was a relief.
Kurt followed the two subs back out to the van, loading the few things they were taking back with them back into the van, where Mae let out a sigh of relief.
"I never thought we'd finish," she admitted with a happy little laugh.
Kurt smiled back at her and she quickly opened the van and rummaged around before turning back purse in hand.
"Thank you so much, Kurt. I really couldn't have done it without you," she grinned handing over a small wad of bills.
Kurt took them with shaky fingers and his eyes widened when he saw the amount. "Mrs Pen-"
"Mae!" she cut in with an easy grin. "And I won't hear any of it, you deserve it honey. Now let's get back home, the party was already starting up when we left and we don't want to be caught in all that bustle."
Kurt turned towards the hotel and wondered just how it would all look in full swing. Would it be just as imposing and yet so distasteful? Would the guests wear the most expensive yet mismatched and out of style outfits?
Whatever it was he was sure he didn't want to see it.
They moved towards the van when a chill ran through Kurt and he halted. "My vest!" he exclaimed.
Alisa frowned at him. "Your vest?"
"I left it in the hall."
Mae glanced at her watch. "We'll wait. Hurry back though, we should be able to make it."
Kurt caught the worried look on Alisa's face. "No, you two go. I saw a bus stop just down the road."
Mae clucked her tongue. "No Kurt, it's late and you're an unbonded sub! Just run and get it. Hopefully they haven't moved it by now."
"I'll try to be as fast as I can," he said running inside and the older woman leaned against her van tapping her fingers on her hip and shaking off a bad feeling starting to build up inside her.
Her Dom was right…she was a drama queen sometimes.
Entering the ghastly decorated lobby for the second time was somehow even more intimidating because this time there were actually people milling around this time.
They were wrapped in silk and satin, rubies and sapphires dangling from their necks and golden watches snaking around their wrists.
Men were all clean shaven, hair meticulously styled and gelled, their suits neatly pressed and shoes shined within an inch of their lives and Kurt swore one of the men he saw had diamond cufflinks on his ivory coloured shirt. He may or may not have gulped at the sight. Women were dressed in flowing, cascading and flittering dresses in every colour and material imaginable, their long hair curled a swept off their faces with golden pins and lacey headbands.
Kurt felt like every single eye in the room was on him and his, albeit clean and well kept, low quality old clothes and he struggled not to fidget and shift and give himself away more than he already did by just being there.
Using the ruckus of people greeting each other in- what he could tell were sickeningly, falsely sweet voices- he swept through the lobby and into the hall to locate his precious vest and scurry away before someone had him arrested just for breathing in the same air.
The seconds ticked passed as he tried to weave unobtrusively through the masses and with every moment the urge to drop to his knees got stronger and stronger. There was a weight settling on the back on his neck, itching his mark, making it impossible to raise his head and his heart beat had tripled its speed slamming against the walls of his chest as if something had infected his blood. At first he was scared out of his mind, dazed as it was fogging over to be, but then something in him screamed the answer.
Dominants.
He'd never been in a room with so many and with every breath in their pheromones were invading his body and sparking reactions, dusting off proper submissive instincts for the first time and he was helpless against the onslaught. It was never like this at school. The Doms and subs were split into separate classes as was standard but even at lunch and in-between them there wasn't enough Doms at McKinley to produce this kind of reaction in him. Whimpering a little in the back of his throat as the bodies swirled around him he knew that he had to get out of the crowd, the epicentre of where the scent of Doms and subs were saturating the air making it thick and heavy.
It felt like wading through water, spinning his head and making him dizzy as his body seemed to light on fire slowly over sensitising his nerve endings. Finally Kurt was on the other side of the room, ducking into a doorway and after closing his eyes and breathing hard for a few minutes he managed to control himself enough to at least tilt his head back up, even if he did have to grip onto the doorjamb for support of his shaking legs. He wouldn't buckle for them. He refused to degrade himself to such a level and he'd promised himself he'd never kneel for anyone but his Dom. Someone that he trusted implicitly. Someone who cared for him. Not that, that seemed likely anytime in the near future of course, but it was a resolve Kurt held close to his heart anyway.
The orchestra in the corner continued to play and the bodies continued to dance and revel and Kurt could only stare. It was everything he pictured but then nothing of what he expected either as he took it in with wide disbelieving eyes. The pompous entitlement was there in every over exaggerated graceful line of a sub and the hungry judging stares from the Doms. It shattered the small hope inside him that maybe, just maybe, there was a little bit of romance to be had here. That it wasn't just money and fancy clothes that mattered, but with every fake titter and batted eyelash Kurt felt sicker.
I want to go home.
Glancing down the tables lining the wall on this side he hoped like hell no one had moved or thrown away one of his most treasured possessions. He couldn't believe he had left it in the first place. And just as he gathered up enough courage and fortification to brave the mess of bodies again someone hard and pressing wrapped fingers around the top of his arm on one side and then the other and Kurt stilled completely rendered motionless, unable to do anything at all as strong Dominant scents reached his nose.
"What are you doing here? You were not invited sub," one gruff voice growled into his ear making his pulse leap in pure panic and then the rest was lost to him in a blur of minutes he couldn't quite believe was real.
Another Dominant had come racing over only this one… well his scent really nearly put him on his knees and he felt like maybe he would be happy to be there. It was all masculine undertones with a hint of sweet apple over the top and Kurt just about kept his whine to himself.
What was wrong with him?
The reaction was powerful and his whole body felt shifted and charged from just that alone. The hands on his arms made his skin crawl all of a sudden and resolve be damned he wanted to drop to his hands and knees and curl up against this unknown Doms in front of him legs. Maybe hide his face in his neck and let him take him away somewhere safe.
It was crazy the distant logical part of him knew. He didn't know this Dom any more than he knew the ones producing the bruises on his biceps, hadn't even seen his face even, but he just felt different somehow and it was impossible to pinpoint. It was like his body knew something he didn't and it was horrifying how it was threatening to betray his heart and mind.
He couldn't raise his head just yet; still felt like someone had a handful of his hair and was forcing him lower, lower and he couldn't keep track of his stuttering inhales. Words passed around him and he heard as if from underwater, registering, but muffled enough that he couldn't make sense of any of it and then his arm was let go on one side, then the other and the stranglehold on him loosened enough that he could finally dare to look up again.
What he saw stole his breathe.
Blaine Anderson.
Gorgeous, unattainable Blaine Anderson was standing right in front of him with perfect slicked hair, toned compact body under a crisp black suit and hazel eyes burning dark under a swath of thick lashes, smouldering right to the very heart of Kurt.
He knew he should look away. Felt the fierce tug to lower his eyes as was respectful but he suddenly couldn't.
He'd seen this face grace the occasional magazine cover he was able to come across and he had acknowledged that Blaine was handsome of course; maybe the most beautiful man Kurt had ever seen. But this. The sheer presence this man brought with him in the flesh was devastating.
And then a hand was grabbing a fistful of the shirt at his waist pulling him in closer, scent heady and cloying now, and Blaine was all he could feel, hear, see, smell though he didn't dare touch. But it needn't have mattered when in the next blink Blaine had his face buried in his neck.
Stars burst in front of his eyes so bright he had to clench them shut and he was lost.
He'd never felt anything like it and all he wanted was more, more, more, closer, closer, closer as electricity chased down his spine and so he arched up into the hot breathes snaking across his overheated skin with a strangled sound he had no idea he had the ability the make, tilting his head as far as it would go to free up as much space as he could while he whole body swayed into Blaine's as naturally as breathing.
Submit, something begged him. Submit, submit, submit.
He was all racing blood, pounding heart and open nerves and then, "You are mine," was practically branded into his skin, soft as a kiss but heavy with meaning like a bulldozer and it snapped him out of the haze somewhat gasping for a fresh breath, a steady line to hold onto before he was sucked under again. And suck it did. It pulled and realigned him those three words and Kurt wanted to wake up from this dream because it was kind of terrifying how intense every emotion felt, like he was about to fly apart and be put back together different.
Claimed.
It was a vague understanding in the back of his mind that got louder and louder until it was screaming in his head. The Dom holding him pulled back and Kurt could feel tears sting the back of his eyes as the implications set in.
"I Blaine Anderson claim him."
He was ruined.
We hope you enjoyed the first chapter! We'll see you next Sunday :*