Hi wonderful people.

A lot has changed since we last posted. M finally has her master's degree; A has a cool new job AND WE HAVE FINALLY MET EACH OTHER IN PERSON.

We spent 10 amazing days together here in Croatia, lazing around on the beach, hitting the clubs at night and traveling around to the capital and some of the islands.

It was amazing and it's scary how well we got along. It definitely didn't feel like seeing each other for the first time. It felt like we've known each other for ages.

We also talked about this chapter in detail and as we have mentioned before agreed it's the final one.

It just feels like a good place to naturally wrap things up. Nothing is forced or dragged, the story just kind of faded out here. And we like it that way.

There will be a short (who are we kidding it'll probably be longer than The Great Wall of China) epilogue.

We will thank you all properly and say goodbye to you and this story once we post that (sad tears).

Now a few words about this chapter:

1. It's long as all hell. There were a lot of tiny things to mention and we did our best to mention every last one of them so nothing remains hanging in the air.

2. The format is a bit unusual, so if someone is confused there will be an explanation in the end notes. We put it there so we don't spoil it for those who want to figure things out on their own.

3. There is a pretty long Brad and Danai scene that does serve as a bridge towards a certain event in the story. Now some of you don't really like their storyline. For those there will be a short summary of what happens in that scene also in the end notes because we don't want to spoil things for those who do want to read about them.

4. Mentions of abuse.

Now…

They were minutes away.

Minutes away from finding out if their world would stay exactly the same, dull and grey and desperate, or if it would change for good. Gain new shades of color, change perspectives, create new chances.

Burt Hummel stood in the middle of the floor, surrounded by all the people that meant something in his life and for the first time since the whole campaign insanity started, he allowed himself to hope. Hope that he'd done enough, that even if they didn't win that at least they would have opened up some minds, shed some light on the real issues.

He refused to wait for the results in a fancy hotel, dressed in a fancy suit and in the company of the high society, posh people who had been running his life for the past couple of months. It's not that he didn't appreciate them or the immense help they had been, and he wasn't prejudiced not to keep their company, it was just he wanted to find out his own destiny among the people he was fighting for. He didn't want there to be a them and us anymore, that's what he was fighting to rule out, but for right now, he wanted to stay among the people that he knew. That he understood. Dressed in ratty clothes and with whatever food they could come up with, in the dingy gym of McKinley high school. No decorations, no glitter, no pretense. Just a man fighting for a better tomorrow, shoulder to shoulder with those who deserved a better tomorrow.

Dana had objected at first, said it was unprofessional and would attract negative attention but he didn't want to hear it. If the people from Lima weren't allowed to be present at the result ceremony due to dress codes and what not, then he would move the ceremony to them. His reasoning resonated with his campaign managers and sooner than he knew it they were all digging up the simplest of outfits they had, taking off their jewelry and joining him in support of those who had been dealt the shorter end of the stick.

And now they were all there.

Surrounded by people they had probably never even looked at twice and looking as if they were there every day. Comfortable, relaxed, accepted. Because Lima might have been a lot of things, but the people there were still loving and hopeful. It might have gotten lost somewhere along the years, buried under the poverty and wayward hormones from incomplete bonds, but Burt hardly had to dig to bring it out of them in the end.

Kurt had supported him completely, going so far as to dress down into some of his old clothes and forgoing the hair spray. He looked like his little boy again. The way he did before he was claimed and as happy as Burt was that his son was bonded to someone as amazing as Blaine, he had missed his son. The nostalgia alone was enough to make him smile.

And Blaine.

Blaine showed his true colors once again. Dressing down to match his sub, hair falling in soft ringlets around his stubbly face as he walked around the gym and charmed the pants out of everyone he had spoken to. Kurt had chosen to let his Dom roam around and stay plastered to his dad all night. Whispering encouragements and getting progressively more nervous and jumpy as the night wore on.

"I think it'll be any minute now," he said and Burt looked towards the clock that kept ticking steadily towards ten o'clock when the official results would be announced.

"I know, buddy. And I'm sweating like a pig," he chuckled and felt his son squeeze his hand.

"Whatever happens now, dad, I want you to know I'm really proud of all you've done," Kurt said softly and Burt felt his heart hammer in his chest.

"Even if I lose?" he dared to voice the fear that was eating him up inside. This wasn't a time for his usual manly bravado.

"Even if we lose we still did something amazing. We opened the eyes and hearts of so many people. Win or lose, I think things will start looking up," Kurt said with conviction and Burt returned his squeeze choked up at how grown up, and smart his son was.

He wished Elizabeth was there to see him… see them. He hoped she was proud of what they had accomplished.

"Ladies and gentleman, if we could have your attention," a voice boomed from the sound system set up so they could hear the results and Burt lost his train of thought. He was vaguely aware of the stifling silence around him, of Carole and Finn standing close by and of Kurt's hand cutting off the circulation in his palm, but he couldn't bring himself to react.

He stood there, petrified as the voice rattled off the statistics from the first round, then statistics from the second round, went over both of the programs again and said a bunch of other irrelevant stuff that just made him more and more anxious.

He just wanted to know, one way or the other.

"And now for the big announcement. Even though the prognosis said that whoever won would do so by the split of a hair, it appears the situation is exactly the opposite. With over 72% of the votes, Westerville Circle's new Head is…"

"My dear friends, my family. Not too long ago the world we lived in didn't hold much hope. It felt like we were stuck in a darkness so thick you could almost feel it crawling on your skin. And it was cold. Like deepest winter. Like ice. Giving up seemed like the smartest thing to do. Just curl up and let life hand you one bad news after the other…"

Then…

As the campaigning for the first round of elections draws to a close and we get closer to voting, the candidates for Head are doing their best to convince the last of the potentially reluctant voters to circle their name.
In an attempt to do just that, the underdog of this election, Burt Hummel, appeared on the Late Night Show with Stacy Miller to give an exclusive interview on his plans for the future, his revolutionary Program and his opinion on his opponents.
Though reasonably charming and undeniably likable, this undereducated repairman from Lima appeared to be out of depth with the questions Mrs. Miller threw his way.
He gave vague answers to her questions, showed an impressive lack of knowledge about the Programs of his opponents and generally stuttered and stumbled his way through an, admittedly, bone crushing interview.
We looked through the comments of the viewers and most of them agreed that Burt Hummel looked severely uncomfortable and unprepared during the entire interview. They showed no sympathy at someone's remark that he is new to the political scene and that it might have been just nerves getting the best of him which doesn't bode well.
Current pole results show a drop of 2.3% in Burt's popularity after this interview and we are left to wonder if he should stop accepting events like these until the first round of voting is over.
Luckily for him, it's results time in just a little over 24 hours so it shouldn't be that hard to stay clear of public appearances.

Paul Knight
The Westerville Spectator

"Sir…" Carole approached her Dom carefully, knowing how the articles about his interview affected him. She'd read enough of some of the others Dana's team had dropped off as research into public opinion to know that none of them were favorable about that particular interview and at best they were pitying.

Her Dom was a proud man and the pity was worse than the censure.

Burt knew he hadn't done so well and he was so hard on himself, watching the recording of it over and over again, and talking it over with Dana and the rest of his team. Before he even went on they had him practicing the answers to potential questions for days on end, commenting on absolutely everything; from the way he sat to the way he gestured with his hands as he spoke. They had drilled it into him that his behavior had to be completely different from his everyday self and when the interview went downhill they concluded he just didn't have enough time to prepare properly.

She, on the other hand, had a completely different opinion of why his interview went so poorly and after watching him torture himself with it for the past week she had decided it was time for her to step in. After all, making sure her Dom was okay was her job.

"Sir, the car will be here in ten minutes," she told him sitting down next to him and taking his hand into her own. They were supposed to attend a meeting with Burt's team and the car was sent to pick them up from their home and drive them to Dana's office.

Her presence startled him a bit and he lowered the magazine with a heavy sigh.

"Oh… okay… thank you…" he answered and the usual boom of his voice was somehow quiet and soft. She hated it.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly and he smiled at her, sad and tired.

"I'm okay, love. This damn thing is just much harder than I thought it would be," he admitted as he ran a tired hand over his face.

He was freshly shaved and dressed in a crisp white shirt paired with tan colored slacks. His shoes were polished to perfection and his baseball cap was nowhere to be seen. He looked dapper and smooth but… he wasn't the man she loved. He was stiff and uncomfortable, self-conscious, and she knew he just didn't feel like himself. He didn't feel honest about what he was doing because so much of him was changed in order for him to fit in better.

But he wasn't going to win by being the same as everyone else. If he were to win, he had to be completely different. He had to be himself. They had forgotten that somewhere along the way.

"You know sir… this is just a casual meeting. I don't think you need to be so dressed up for it," she started, careful and just a tiny bit cunning, not outright defying Dana's instructions but making sure he knew she disagreed with them.

Dana was an amazing woman, strong, opinionated and caring. She had become a good friend to them since Kurt had been claimed but… as the election drew to the end she became so focused and driven she had lost sight of what truly made Burt a good choice for the Head.

Carole couldn't blame her for it.

She had been in the politics for years, was the current Head until the election was over and she knew what worked but… from the way their society looked right then 'what worked' clearly didn't work anymore.

And Dana knew that. She just needed to be reminded again.

"I can't. If I'm going to be in the public eye I need to look presentable," he told her with a heavy smile and she brushed her hand across his cheek.

"The public has no authority over how you look in your free time. And this is, for all intents and purposes, your free time. So why don't you jump up and change into something that feels a bit more… you, and we'll wait for the car together?" she tried one more time but he just shrugged and looked at her, his eyes looking more exhausted than ever.

"It's not really all casual. We'll find out the results of the first round of elections and if what they're saying is true… this might be the end of my political career," he said softly and she sighed his name.

"Oh, sir. Don't give up just yet. We still don't know the results and you know better than to believe those vultures who work for the papers," she said passionately and he nodded, but she could tell he wasn't convinced.

"I guess…" he said and she clamped his hand between her own palms.

"And, sir… even if you did lose this election… would you really give up. After just one try?" she asked and it startled him. He hadn't thought about that at all.

Would he really give up that easily? Would he really give Kurt an example of backing out of something after just one defeat? Shamefully, he had to admit he didn't know. The slander he had been going through these past few months was taking its toll on him and he was on the verge of just backing out and giving up. And it was shameful because his son had had to bear this type of scrutiny for months on end and he hadn't folded under it all.

"I honestly don't know, darling," he rumbled, just in time to hear the car honk from their driveway and they stood up, the air silent and heavy between them, as they walked outside together.

Their car ride was mostly quiet as well and it only made the time it took them to get to Dana's office seem even longer. After what felt like hours of silent introspection and anxious build up they finally pulled up in front of an old brownstone where Dana decided to set up her headquarters. Away from the steel and glass of Westerville's political center.

She hated the ruckus it caused and the artificiality of it all. It lacked warmth, she told them.

They climbed up to the second floor and walked into her office without knocking. Burt wasn't surprised to see most of his, well… Dana's team already there. They had consultants, advisors, lawyers, a statistics team, IT crew, and they were all crammed into this little room with him waiting to find out what their next move should be.

Burt greeted them all heavily and adjusted his tie in discomfort. They all looked so at home in their stuffy suits it made him feel a little sick.

He wished Kurt could have been there to ground him, but he had a test he just couldn't get out. He had sent Blaine to keep him informed however, and probably occupied while he was away from him because they were even more attached at the hip now.

Burt cracked a small smile at the sight of his excitable son in law, Bonding looking like it agreed with him exceedingly well, as he waved at him from across the room, a light spot amongst the darker, serious tone of the room.

He returned the wave and settled down into his chair, Carole slipping in the one next to him as they all turned to Dana for further instructions. He was glad Carole was by him for this, he knew he'd be jumping out of his skin and this awful suit if she wasn't.

"Well… I honestly have nothing smart to say right now. The results of the first round will be up online in just a few minutes so why don't we just wait for that," Dana broke through the almost silent muttering over paper shuffling and key tapping and the room was suddenly engulfed in silence so thick it was suffocating.

Nobody moved an inch as they waited for that life altering ping that alerted them of the results being posted.

When it sounded it was deafening.

It rang through the room like a canon being fired and they all jumped as Dana grabbed onto her mouse and started clicking.

Burt couldn't even breathe.

But Dana's face told him everything he needed to know.

Seth Bolton and Richard Decroux for the second round of elections…

Cinderella story with no happy ending: Burt Hummel out of the run…

Kurt Hummel refused to give a statement on his father's loss…

The poll results show Burt Hummel was in third place losing by a few points…

Only 17% of Lima citizens voted despite one of the candidates being their own town's repair man…

The campaigns for the second round heat up…

Disturbing evidence surfaces as the in depth investigation of the candidates continues…

Seth Bolton rumored to be buying off votes…

In a dramatic turn of events Seth Bolton accused of forging his results and he is out of the run…

A precedent is set…

The third runner up will take Bolton's place…

Burt Hummel is back in the run...

"…but the thing about giving up is…you never forgive yourself for not trying harder. There is always that little nagging voice in the corner of your mind reminding you that you didn't give it your all. That you threw in the towel before it was time. That there was still so much to do…"

"Okay, we have people canvassing all over Westerville, talks on the local radio stations next week. The papers have already interviewed you and those should go out tomorrow and the Miriam bless her heart has designed and already been distributing our flyers," Dana rattled off her clipboard and Burt watched her with eyes growing wider and wider.

She was doing it again. Literally days after they received the call that put them back into the race she was doing it again.
Planning some big political gestures and whatnot when she knew it didn't work the last time they tried it that way.

They were settled in the bigger seating room at the front of the Anderson house, seated on soft, buttery leather couches parallel to wide bookcases full of novels and first editions. The window was open to let the spring breeze in and Burt felt like by the end of this talk it would be able knock him off his feet.

"You forgot the billboards," Jared chipped in, pouring them some more tea into china cups that made Burt feel like he was a clumsy giant. "The biggest is above the Anderson's building of course but we're working on expanding those outwards."

"Right," Burt said, remembering back to that god awful photo-shoot a week ago. He couldn't imagine seeing his uncomfortable face blown up a hundred times bigger looking down on everyone. "Don't put them in Lima or anywhere like that."

They frowned at him and it made him huff because they still didn't get his point. Winning the votes from people of Lima was what would ensure his victory.
In order to get their votes they had to get them to even go out and participate.
And in order to get them to participate they would have to make sure they treated them like people…not a means to an end.

"But that's where we're hoping to concentrate our efforts. We want them to know you," Dana argued and Burt shook his head, finally ready to say what he thought was the best plan.

"They already know me. I go round and fix their leaky faucets or reattach wires for their electrics. I don't want them seeing me in some fancy suit, a million times bigger than them with some fancy slogan under my name. That's not how to get through to them," Burt stated firmly and Jared nodded and laid a hand on Dana's knee.

"He's right, my lady." He said and Burt sighed in relief, knowing full well that Jared would be the only person to actually get through to Dana when she went off on one of her tangents. And he didn't disappoint this time.

"I don't disagree, but that means we're going to have to try something else to let them know that you're back in the run," Dana said, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs the other way around.

"I wanna go down there. Hell, I live there, I know them and word of mouth works a lot better than some picture or words on a scrap of paper," Burt said, leaning back in his chair.

"So you want to canvass yourself? All those people. Every house?" Dana confirmed, eyebrows up to her hairline.

Burt shrugged and crossed his arms over his wide chest. "If something's worth doin' then you do it properly."

"Couldn't we hold a meeting and ask them to attend?" Jared suggested. "It would take less time, yet still have the same effect."

"They wouldn't turn up if they knew what it was for," Burt disagreed. "For the same reasons most of them don't go down to the polling station when voting comes around. Have you not seen the statistics of the first round? 17% of Lima citizens voted. 17!"

"You wouldn't have to tell them. They know who you are, you could say it was for something else," Jared continued.

"And start off my political campaign on a lie?" Burt deadpanned and shook his head firmly. "That's not happening. I'm not misleading them into anything. They'll vote because they want to, because they believe in the changes we wanna make or they won't. That's it. I went through the first round acting like I was someone I wasn't. And it didn't work too well for us. I want to do this my way."

"I appreciate the idea," Dana started. Her voice was soft and Burt knew how sorry she was for making him act the way he did. They talked and cleared things out after the results of the first round were announced but she was still hard on herself about it. Yet she still couldn't let go of the convictions years of experience on this job drilled into her. "I really do, and the sentiment behind it is admirable. But we don't really have the time for you to be there when we need you here. Like it or not this position is going to require you to wear suits and be on billboards and do radio and TV interviews. I'm not saying you can't ever have any face time with the people you're representing but, trust me, your responsibilities are going to be extensive and that doesn't leave a lot of room-"

"I know that," Burt cut off firm but respectfully. "I also know that if I'm gonna be Head then I'm gonna have to do it my way or not at all. I ain't no puppet. So while I respect all your opinions, I ain't budging this time. We're gonna have to find a way around this. A compromise at least. Our slogan is all about being on the right side of change yeah? Well how about we mix up this Head position too, huh?"

The side of Dana's mouth quirked up and she shook her head in exasperated respect. "I knew I liked you, Burt Hummel. I thought I was a progressive Head."

Jared laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "This is going to take some doing… like serious doing. But why not!"

Burt smiled and clapped his hands. "Okay then. So we were at those god awful billboards?"

They were interrupted suddenly by the rapid, pounding sound of footsteps on the stairs interceded with familiar giggles from a certain sub and chuckles from the presumably in pursuit Dom.

Kurt darted just inside the door when an arm reached out and hooked him around the waist as Blaine came into view, turning him around and backing him against the door jamb. They were both panting with exertion and smiling to their ears and they didn't seem to have noticed that the room was occupied at all.

This was doubly apparent when Blaine ducked in for a kiss that was in no way on this god earth fit for company and Kurt's arms went around the little toerag's neck encouraging him and melting into the wood. Burt caught a glimpse of an achingly familiar cuff on Kurt's wrist under his blue shirt and he deflated with the realisation again that his little boy wasn't his little boy anymore. Not really. He was Bonded good and proper now.

Still didn't mean that he had to watch it though.

He cleared his throat and the young lovers sprung apart, Kurt red faced and Blaine put out, the little shit. Burt refused to admit that he was amused… or that he was anything like him back in his day.

"Hey dad. I didn't think you'd be over this early," Kurt squeaked, discretely wiping at his lips. Burt snorted.

"I think you may have lost track of a few hours somewhere, bud."

Kurt looked towards the clock above the mantle, then winced. Blaine followed his gaze and preened.

"Take the peacocking somewhere else, son," Jared advised him with a roll of his eyes.

Blaine huffed, pulling Kurt tighter into his side almost unconsciously. "I'm not peacocking. I'm just happy. This is happy Blaine." He pointed to his face.

"Apparently happy Blaine comes with some serious stubble," Dana jibed around the delicate rim of her teacup and the younger Dom ran a hand over his bristly chin. Burt glanced at his son and saw he was eyeing the five o'clock shadow with pink cheeks, bottom lip between his teeth-

Burt hastily looked away. He didn't ever need to know that his son liked… that.

"I've had other things on my mind other than shaving," Blaine returned casually and Dana snorted into her tea, choking on some for good measure while Kurt made a squeaking noise resembling a strangled mouse.

"I'm, um… I'll just go run upstairs and grab what I was gonna show you because the ground obviously isn't going to swallow me," Kurt said before darting upstairs, Blaine following hot on his heels.

"C'mon, Kurt. Don't be embarrassed, lovely."

"Blaine! Stop. This is how we got distracted the first time!"

"You just look so pretty today, lovely. This is your fault for being perfect."

The three older adults shared a look as the voices finally drifted far enough away.

"Shouldn't they have grown out of the honeymoon stage yet?" Burt grumbled, frowning under his cap.

Jared laughed. "Did you?"

Burt huffed but conceded the point.

In truth, it hadn't even been that long. Two weeks and change, and deep down it was nice to see their boys so in love and happy. If they weren't doting on each other and attached at the hip then Burt would worry something was up.

That whole week after their bonding none of them saw hide nor hair of the pair. They booked out the penthouse of the hotel that hosted their Presenting Ceremony and stayed in there, Burt liked to think for his own peace of mind, talking and cuddling. He'd gotten a call on the day they'd got back to the Anderson place and he and Carole had come over for a welcome home dinner that the young couple spent making mooneyes and feeding each other.

The rest of the time he'd not seen them, he'd been so busy, firstly with this campaign, and then with moping about losing that he was lucky if he got to wake up past seven and go to bed at eleven.
And he was even more busy now that he was back in the race.

Kurt came back down ten minutes later flushed and with this stupid, lovesick look on his face that could have charmed cat's outta trees. He was carrying a sketchbook under one arm and a folder in the other which he shuffled over and placed on the low table.

"Where's that terror of mine got to?" Dana asked curiously.

"I bribed him to stay upstairs while I did this," Kurt admitted, giving her a sketchy glance before looking back down.

"With what?" she asked slowly and Kurt turned bright pink.

"Okay. Enough of that," Burt said roughly, adjusting his cap for want of something to do.

Dana burst out into peals of laughter and Jared hid his smirk behind his hand.

"What have you got for us, sweetie?" Dana encouraged looking towards his sketchbook.

"Well I was thinking… a lot of campaigns these days don't just advertise on TV or flyers anymore right?" Kurt started, settling a little now they were off the topic of his... love life.

"That's right," Jared confirmed.

"And you see a lot of them, like breast cancer for example, using wristbands and car window stickers and key chains and T-shirts. Which is what I wanted to show you guys…I did this for the first round but didn't show you because well…um…anyway," Kurt explained, brushing over the disappointment of the first round, flipping open his sketchbook to the right pages.

And there, sketched beautifully in elegant lines, were a bunch of designs for graphic tees, vest tops, even baseball caps in Burt's honour all incorporating the campaign colour; sky blue, the colour of Elizabeth's mark, and the campaign slogan.

There was the actual tag line for the campaign for the first few designs, then for the younger generation Kurt had played to a fad that Burt had never understood;

Burt Hummel, the right side of change.

KEEP CALM AND VOTE FOR CHANGE

They weren't over the top or showy, they were nice clothes and Burt hadn't ever been more proud of him.

"These are amazing, kiddo."

Kurt beamed under the praise and sat up from his perch on the floor straighter, face animated as he explained, "I was thinking that maybe Red could put their name behind them? And then all proceeds could go to the charities you guys have been running so win or lose we can still make a difference in some way. And maybe you could even give free ones to the clothing drive?"

"I would be honoured to put my label behind these," Dana assured, picking up the sketchbook and looking them over with a critical, practised eye. "They're amazing, sweetie and I'll get my team working on getting them out ASAP."

"You're very business savvy, Kurt," Jared praised and Kurt laughed.

"Not really. Just got a few smarts from the old man."

"YOU ARE THE MOST PERFECT HUMAN BEING EVER! I KNEW THEY WOULD LOVE THEM!" Blaine exclaimed excitedly from the doorway, rushing into the room and clutching him up to spin him around.

"Blaine! You were supposed to wait upstairs!" the sub whined, but he didn't push him away.

"Lord give me strength," Burt sighed, but he was smiling as he watched them.

"I was going to stay upstairs but we were going to help Nick and Jeff move today remember?" Blaine reminded him.

"Oh, shoot," Kurt groaned, scrambling out of his Dom's arm and running for the doorway.

Blaine smiled after him with a dreamy sigh.

"Uh, Blaine? Nick. Jeff. Moving," Jared said to him and the Dom blinked once.

"Oh yeah. Um, see you guys."

And then he was gone.

"Bonding was supposed to make him smarter," Dana lamented.

"…there were still happy moments to fight for…"

Kurt sighed into Blaine's mouth, fingers running slowly over his Dom's cheek and jaw over and over as their mouths twisted and turned in time with their tongues. He just couldn't keep his hands away. He delighted in the prickling feeling along the pads of his sensitive fingertips, the stubble scraping raw patches around his lips and tickling against his palms when he framed his face and allowed him to take control of him.

The Dom had never let his beard grow out so far before, the most he'd left it for before was a day or so before he'd shaved again, but they'd been so lost in their little world after bonding that a lot of things were falling by the wayside. And while he hated that he more often than not forgot to do his moisturising routine, he had found he loved stubbly Blaine.

Turns out Blaine loved that he loved stubbly him too.

A sudden blaring of True Friends by Atomic Kitten of all things interrupted the moment and Blaine groaned frustrated against Kurt's swollen lips before he pulled away after one last lingering kiss and grabbed the device out of his back pocket to press to his ear.

Kurt frowned. He was still kind of hazy, the pleasant fog he seemed to slip in an out of so naturally these days still hanging around his head. So when Blaine turned his head to answer Kurt pushed up on his toes from his slump against the side of… oh, they were at the car. Outside. The sun shining down on them. The knowledge slipped away again, unimportant and useless for now as he pressed his lips to the corner of Blaine's mouth and breathed in an intoxicating mixture of pheromone and Blaine.

He hummed at the feeling of soft lips and a hint of prickles and pressed insistent little kisses to that spot, hands still very much on Blaine's face trying to coax him around without applying much force at all. He didn't want to force him. He wanted to entice him. Wanted him to want him. He wanted to be good.

"Nick- now's not a good time- uh…" Kurt arched his lower back and moulded their torso's together. "W-what? You're moving..? I mean of course you're moving, I knew that. Ri-ght…" he totally lost his breathe in the middle of the word as Kurt rolled their hips together and the cheeky sub smiled against the side of his face and made a little noise that he knew drove Blaine insane, while he rubbed his thumbs over the hair that stretched down past his jaw and over his neck.

"I am listening, bro. No I'm not having sex… that was not Kurt's sex noise." Kurt made another one just to be contrary and Blaine free hand slipped down and tightened on his ass in warning. All it really did was get Kurt hotter and grind their hips together more securely. "You better not know what Kurt's sex noise's sound like Nick, I swear to fucking god!"

The possessive, dominant growl laced all over those words had Kurt weak at the knees. "Sir," he whimpered needy and high pitched. Blaine finally turned his face into the sound and Kurt saw that his pupils were blown, his gaze intense and that was all the sub could get his mind to focus on.

Want me, love me, need me… I'll be good. I'll be soo good.

"We're on the car, okay? We'll be five minutes… yes, I said on the car. Don't ask if you don't want the truth. Bye." He hung up and slipped the phone back in his pocket so he could free his hand up to grasp Kurt's hip.

"You. Are. In. So. Much. Trouble," he growled out between kisses to say against his damp mouth, "Distracting me like that."

"Sorry, sir," Kurt apologised immediately, all of his heart in it as he latched onto Blaine's every word, every movement and tilted his chin up for more. "I'll be good, I promise."

It was then that Blaine realised just how deep Kurt had managed to fall under with barely any effort on his part at all. He was coming to recognise that dreamy, needy look in his beautiful eyes, the extra pout to his lips like he was begging for kisses, the way his whole body just melted into his hold like liquid conforming to the shape of a glass.

The knowledge, like always, spiked his heart rate and got him even harder in his jeans then he already was. That ever present feeling of pride and love bubbling more strongly to the surface and the fierce urge to protect rising up from the deepest most instinctive part of him in automatic response.

They were still working out this whole subspace thing together.

Ever since that first magnificent experience, literally the best moment of his life bar the first time he'd seen Kurt, his beautiful boy had fallen in and out of subspace surprisingly often from what was considered normal. It wasn't all as intense as that first time. Sometimes Kurt skated just beneath the surface of it, others he dived completely under and Blaine had taken to cataloguing each different time so that he could look after him the way he needed.

Usually it took quite a bit to get a sub to subspace; read, a heck of LOT. It wasn't rare to complete that last stage of Bonding for no reason and as such, there really wasn't too many in depth studies on the phenomenon that he could look to. Most just said something along the lines of; if you're lucky enough to get there then you'll know as a Dom what to do when your sub is in subspace. Yup. Helpful advice from Dominant authors that had never gotten a sub there themselves. But there were a few, a very few, which knew what they were talking about, that gave actually tips and hints from personal experiences.

For example, it said that most often subspace would occur during or after a lot of play or a lot of gentle coaxing on the Dom's part if the sub felt comfortable enough to let go and trusted their Dom enough. But they also said that every sub was unique, so what applied to one didn't necessarily apply to another which kind of rendered the former statements frustratingly unclear. After all, Kurt just seemed to fall there easily sometimes without any real play at all. Just gave it all up and trusted Blaine explicitly to catch him when he fell and no amount of classes he had taken or books he had read had actually prepared him for what it felt like to actually have a sub, his sub, looking at him like that. Trusting him like that.

From what he could tell now Kurt wasn't actually that far into his head just yet which was good, because if he was then he'd be spending the next hour doting on his boy and bringing him out of it safely despite their prior commitments. Aftercare was a huge thing for Blaine. It always had been from the very first moment he'd heard what it was in his Dominant lessons. There was no way he was going to let any sub of his drop the way the books described, especially now that he knew what a rare gift Kurt really was in his life.

"I'm gonna need you to come back up, lovely. We've got somewhere to be," he coaxed gently, pressing their lips together to peck a few light kisses along his swollen mouth. "Can you do that for me, my good boy? You're so beautiful when you're falling under, I wanna keep you there all the time."

Kurt sighed happily into his mouth, tasting of mint toothpaste and vanilla lip balm and though he would have quite happily stayed there indefinitely, Blaine moved his mouth away and pressed their cheeks together so he could whisper straight into his ear. Kurt had other ideas however and used the change in position to rub their cheeks together, using him like a scratching post and making these adorable, contented sounds in his throat like this is all he wanted to do. Just cuddle and snuggle up to the beginnings of his beard.

Blaine chuckled and cupped the back of his head, darting his pinkie finger down to brush over his mark. Kurt shivered from head to toe. "C'mon, sweet boy, you were looking forwards to getting out of the house yesterday."

Kurt made a disagreeing noise and tried to push in closer.

"You're making this so difficult," Blaine groaned. All he really wanted to do now was carry Kurt upstairs to their bed and see just how far he could get him to go. It was intoxicating.

"M'not difficult. M'good," Kurt half slurred, half said.

"You are good. So good and you know what would make you even better, lovely? If you came back around for me. I know you can do it and I'll be here to take care of you just like always. I love you, Kurt," he encouraged into his ear, pulling back to look into his face to see if it was having any affect.

He didn't want to order Kurt out of subspace, no matter how shallow. He wanted him to feel comfortable to fall there if he wanted to with no restrictions, but it made bringing him out before he actually wanted to tricky.

"Come up for me, Kurt. Come on, baby," he continued to coo and he could see Kurt's blue eyes refocusing somewhat, lashes fluttering. "That's it. I love you. Come on up here with me, lovely."

"Blaine?" Kurt asked, voice clearer but still a little drowsy with a hint of need.

"I'm here." He hugged him closer to make sure he felt secure. Kurt had never fallen under while outside before so he wanted to make sure he felt as safe as possible when he realised. Which was right about-

"Oh god… we're on the driveway. I… we… on the driveway," he hissed, the last bit with burning cheeks before burying them in Blaine's neck.

The Dom hushed him soothingly and felt behind Kurt for the door handle to the car. He managed to get it open and Kurt inside with his legs still out of the car, Blaine in between them. He took Kurt's hands between his and kissed at his palms, making sure to rub his stubble along them for good measure. "You're fine. The house is fenced in and no one else saw, you're completely fine, lovely."

"I just… sometimes I can't help myself," Kurt whispered, face unsure suddenly and Blaine surged up to kiss the worried lines away.

"I don't want you to help yourself. Whenever you fall under, it's so beautiful, baby. I can't even describe it. And that you felt so safe with me even while we were outside is just… amazing. I'm so lucky to have you, lovely and I'm always gonna take care of you," he said passionately.

"But is this… me falling under so often… is it normal?" Kurt still worried, big blue eyes wide and beseeching.

Blaine cupped his face between his hands. "If it feels right to us then why not? It's not hurting you right, lovely? And you don't feel forced?"

"No! Sir, no," Kurt hastily spat out.

"Then you're perfect the way you are," Blaine crowed in triumph and Kurt huffed a laugh around rolling his eyes. Blaine smacked a kiss to his tender, sore mouth and Kurt hummed at the pleasured pain. He pulled back and smiled winningly at his gorgeous sub until he gave him a shy smile back. "You know it might just be because the completed bond is so new? Or maybe you're sensitive to subspace since you've already slipped into it before so it's easier for us?"

Kurt nodded, happier with those explanations but still a little unsure. "Maybe. That would make sense I guess."

"Are you feeling up to helping Nick and Jeff move still?"

"Yeah. I want to," Kurt said softly.

"You're gonna have to let go of me then, lovely," Blaine teased and Kurt suddenly noticed that his fingers had a death grip on the Dom's light polo.

He flushed. "Um… I think you're gonna have to order me to let go, sir."

"Lovely, if you still need me here then I'm not going anywhere or ordering anything," Blaine said sternly rubbing up and down his forearms and Kurt nodded and relaxed a little.

It took another ten minutes of quiet petting and sweet nothings, Nick called again, but finally Kurt was able to let go long enough for Blaine to get in the car and get them moving. Kurt held his free hand the whole time with both of his as they talked.

Somehow they got on to a topic that had been causing them a few problems lately… not between them personally, but in the respect that they didn't know what to do about it.

"Are we going to tell them about the folder?" Kurt asked quietly, eyes on the side of Blaine's face, whole body curled up on the seat and turned towards him while he cradled that strong hand in his lap.

Blaine tightened his fingers on Kurt's. "I still don't think you should worry Jeff with it right now, lovely. He's in a great place with Nick, you said it yourself and I don't want this to hurt that."

"I know. But he has a right to know! I hate keeping things from him, I don't think I ever have in my life," Kurt said, upset and anxious.

Blaine gave him a comforting look and brought his hand over to kiss before he put his eyes back on the road. "I'll talk to Nick about it today and then he can decide whether or not to tell him. You can even mention to him that there's something he needs to know but Nick will tell him later if you want, lovely. But let him enjoy today, huh?"

Kurt nodded and sighed. "Yeah. I wish we'd never seen that folder… but then I think that what would have happened if we didn't?"

"It'll be okay, lovely. I promise. Jeff and Nick are strong enough to get through this."

They pulled up to Dalton where he would be dropping Kurt off to help Jeff and the other subs pack up the last of the stuff, before going to meet Nick and the Dom's at the new place to start hauling around the furniture that had been ordered and delivered.

Kurt lingered in the car a little, leaning over the seats to kiss Blaine a few more times for good measure before grabbing a stray scarf from the glove box, climbing out and heading for upstairs and his friends. That red folder was still on his mind but he tried his best to put on a happy smile before he knocked on the door to Nick and Jeff's dorm.

"…friends that needed our help...counted on us…relied on us…"

"Okay… no… Thad I love you but the clothes are only allowed to be packed by Sebastian and myself," Kurt said as he pulled a soft silk shirt from the tiny subs hands and smoothed it down gently.

He had been there for about an hour now and the tiny sub had been causing havoc with the actually packing. His spreadsheet and organising system for the actual boxes however was ingenious, it made putting things into corresponding piles surprisingly simple.

The adorable math nerd should stick to the numbers.

Thad just shrugged and moved to Jeff's growing collection of comic books, packing them into the boxes he'd already marked out neatly.

"Yeah… no… I'm not doing manual labour," Sebastian drawled from his perch on the windowsill where he was carefully filing his nails, diva to the core.

Kurt rolled his eyes at him and turned back to Jeff's closet.

"Fine then… I'll handle the clothes. You just sit there and be useless," Kurt chirped sarcastically.

"I'm never useless. I am beautiful therefore I improve the quality of life of people fortunate enough to see me," he said, serious as a heart attack and for a moment Kurt stared at him over his shoulder in disbelief before he huffed out a breath.

"Your modesty is astounding, Smythe." Sebastian threw him a sultry wink and Kurt fake gagged. "Keep your flirting for your Dom you ass."

"He gets plenty, worry not my elvish friend. Speaking of my Dom… why aren't all of our Dom's here putting their impressive muscles to good use and doing what God intended them to do. Slaving for us," he asked and Thad chuckled from where he was completely engrossed in an old Spiderman comic book, packing long forgotten.

"They are actually doing that. Just not here," Jeff said softly, as he packed his art supplies with utmost care.

"Explain," Sebastian demanded and Jeff closed the plastic box that held all of his brushes and paint and other smaller art utilities turning towards him.

"Do you and Dave ever communicate?" Kurt asked with a raised brow.

"I talk, he listens mostly," Sebastian grinned.

"Of course."

Jeff giggled at the face Kurt pulled at him before turning back to Sebastian. "Our furniture got delivered today so they're helping Nick and the movers unload and assemble everything. So heavy lifting, lots of stairs, tools and stuff. Very stereotypical Dom behavior. Happy?" he threw in cheekily and as much of a diva Sebastian was every minute of every day, his cold, bitchy demeanor just slipped a tad when he faced the blonde sub. Apart from Dave, Jeff was his one weakness, one soft spot.

It was the same for all of them here, though Kurt had it worse than anyone.

"Ecstatic. Nice work, Sterling, getting them to bust their asses while we just pack the small stuff," he said, nodding his head approvingly.

"What do you mean 'we'?" Thad pouted from the floor. "You haven't moved from that window since the moment you got here."

"Excuse you. I went to the bathroom like… an hour ago. It required moving," Sebastian retorted snobbishly and Kurt snorted from where he was now completely inside Jeff and Nick's closet.

"We all appreciate the effort you put in," Kurt deadpanned.

"You're most welcome," Sebastian said in the most high society voice he could possibly pull.

"Wait… so… as we speak… our Doms are lugging huge pieces of furniture… getting all, sweaty and like… taking their shirts off… right?" Thad gasped suddenly, Spiderman's adventures long forgotten in his hands, his cheeks turning a wonderful rosy color as his eyes widened.

"Why, Thad… I had no idea sweat was a kink of yours," Sebastian suddenly perked up and Kurt could tell he was loving the turn their conversation had taken.

"It's not a kink… like… I just… I just like the way Ryan looks shirtless and… and sweaty… and SHUT UP, SEB! We all know how much you love Dave in a suit!" Thad cried, face completely flushed red.

Kurt could relate to the embarrassment, even secondhand, he had never been one to just talk and tease about this kind of thing. It was only recently that he'd even started talking about it with Jeff and he was his best friend in the world. Which led him to immediately looking over towards him. He remembered how uncomfortable Jeff had been when they'd first discussed this at their sleepover before his Presenting, so he had to make sure Jeff was okay with where this was going.

The blonde was making himself busy by packing the knick-knacks he had all over the room and it almost seemed casual and nonchalant except for the blush sitting high on his cheeks and the tension in his shoulders.

That protective mothering urge rose up in him all at once as they continued to listen to the provocative banter. "Guys…" he warned softly when he saw Jeff's hands tighten around a sweater he had picked up.

"Oh come on, Hummel… don't play coy. We've all seen the stubble burn on your neck. Scarves in this weather? You should know better, darling," Sebastian said teasingly and Kurt scowled at him through his own mortification, head jerking in Jeff's direction.

The snarky sub looked to his left and immediately his bitchy face dropped to a gentle, remorseful smile.

"Blondie… I'm sorry," he tried softly and his voice was miles away from the usual bored drawl it usually had.

Jeff knew deep down why he had frozen so badly, and he hated it. That his friends had to censor themselves around him to spare his feelings. He knew they all had healthy sex lives, that sex was a thing that normal people talked about, and sometimes he even talked to Kurt about… stuff like that but, being in a larger group still made him… wary.

He didn't want to feel that way. He wanted to be able to be casual about situations like this when surrounded with people he felt safe with. He wanted to be a teenager and a newly bonded, giddy sub who just needed to share his happiness with his friends. He wanted to be like everyone else and somehow, as he turned around and saw worry on the faces of the three subs he considered his brothers almost, he felt… ready. Or as close he was going to get.

"I… I like Nick's arms," he offered quietly, breathy, timid.

It wasn't anything deep, nothing too personal, but it was huge for him. And the silence that followed his statement hung heavy in the air as testament to that. He could feel eyes on him, wondering and shocked. He, himself, felt proud of his own bravery. His friends, on the other hand, stood completely dumbfounded, staring at him like he had grown a second head.

He didn't want that.

He didn't want to see shock on everyone's face every time he stepped out of his comfort zone a little bit. He didn't want to have a comfort zone. He just wanted to live.

"He does have amazing arms," Sebastian snapped back to reality before the other two subs got their bearings together. He was the most emotionally stunted of the three so the least likely to lapse into a scene and Jeff was grateful for that buffer as weird as that sounded.

"Nice definition," Thad offered in confusion.

"G-good tan as well?" Kurt stuttered like a question and Jeff chuckled, feeling the tightness constricting his chest unravel a little.

"Can you please stop being weird about this?" he asked softly and Kurt was by his side in an instant.

"We're not being weird, sweetie. Just… are you sure you're okay to talk about this? I mean, I'm not completely comfortable with it either," Kurt said and Jeff nodded, lowering himself onto a sofa, wrapping his arms around a pillow that hadn't been packed yet.

"Sure… that's…this is what friends do right?" he asked, "I mean. We have talked a little before."

Kurt nodded and took the space next to him and Sebastian smiled at him so warmly, it was almost impossible to recognize the sharp tongued man most everyone else got treated to.

"Only if they're comfortable with it. Friends never push each other to do something they don't want to do," he said and Kurt nodded in agreement, watching Thad as he mimicked his move.

"I'm okay with it. If… if it gets too much I'll let you know," Jeff decided and leaned back against Kurt who snuggled up to him instantly.

"Okay then. Well… Hummel… wanna share your thoughts on stubble burns with the class?" The bitch came back as Sebastian turned towards Kurt this time.

"Uh, no," Kurt said emphatically, hiding behind Jeff for once.

"Don't be shy now. You've spent two weeks banging the hell out of each other and we all know it," he continued relentlessly and Kurt knew his face was on fire.

"You are a horrible human being."

"You're mistaking horrible for superior," Seb smirked.

"If you mean a superior bitch then yeah, okay," Kurt smirked back just as sharply, letting go of Jeff and heading back towards the closet.

"Too late to go hiding in there," Sebastian mocked and Kurt sighed in exasperation. The idiot was like a dog with a bone. With ruffled feathers he removed his scarf, it was useless now when they knew what was hiding behind it anyway and it was damn hot in this room.

"Happy now?" He threw the scarf at his smug face.

Seb caught it with one hand and stepped closer, peering intently at his neck. "Daaamn," he drew out the word. "Blaine must have been trying to find a vein from how hard he was gnawing on there. I thought the marks on your face were bad."

"My face?" Kurt squeaked, covering it with his palm hastily and running for the mirror in the bathroom. It took three seconds before they heard a shrill, "Blaine!"

"Oh don't blame it on him, I'm sure you were equally on board," Sebastian laughed delightedly and Thad snickered behind his hand too.

"He didn't tell me what my mouth looked like!" Kurt retorted, and the sound of running water and splashing could be heard.

"It's not going to wash off," Seb jeered, causing more laughter from Thad.

"So you admit to liking it?" Thad probed further wickedly.

"Ugh… god… fine…I don't even know. We were… kind of wrapped up in each other after the Presenting and he forgot to shave because we were too busy… you know… and I found out that I didn't mind it… at all…" he came clean just before he stepped out of the bathroom with a wet flannel pressed to his face.

"We can't pack that now," Thad stated.

"Screw packing! Dave had a full on beard phase back when he was serious about the whole bear/twink thing. Best blowjobs of my life. And don't even get me started on how amazing rimming was with that thing," he gushed and then cut himself short when he saw the appalled faces of his friends.

"Too much?" he drawled and rolled his eyes at three synchronized nods he got in response.

"Just a tiny bit," Thad squeaked.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Prudes. My point is. Beards are amazing. Proceed with what you're doing, Hummel," he winked and Kurt threw a cushion at his head, missing by a mile before turning to Thad.

"So… sweat?" he asked sweetly. He'd heard the little shit laughing at him and even though he still wasn't completely comfortable with this, his desire to get even outweighed that.

Thad stuck out his tongue. "Yes, Kurt. Sweat. In case you have missed it somehow, my Dom is extremely gorgeous and huge and muscly and believe me when I tell you, seeing him sweaty and shirtless would make your day," he said, unapologetically, proudly.

"Well at least we know why you're into football so obsessively now," Kurt jeered teasingly.

"As if that wasn't completely transparent before," Sebastian retorted. "But I have to say, I can see it somehow. Well… on Ryan anyway. He could pull it off."

Kurt cleared his throat. "I suppose."

"That's a resounding yes," Sebastian smirked and Kurt's cheeks bloomed pink. "Blondie?"

The blonde fidgeted, twining his fingers. "Is that allowed?" he asked softly.

"Is what allowed, Jeffy?" Thad asked, brows furrowed cutely.

"Thinking someone other than Nick is attractive? Is that… is that okay?" he asked and Sebastian came over to him and perched on the armrest of the sofa.

"Look, Nick knows you love him. He knows you're his. And he also knows you're not blind. If someone is objectively attractive it's perfectly fine to think it or even say it. Nothing wrong with that. I think Ryan, Blaine and Nick are to die for. I just love the way Dave looks more than anyone else. I love Dave," he explained simply and squeezed Jeff's shoulder in encouragement wanting for Jeff to be able to participate in harmless, friendly chatting.

Jeff nodded softly, ignoring the way his heart fluttered over the 'love' comment, and chanced a soft smile. "Not really a fan of sweat. But a shirtless Ryan must be a pretty sight," he said over a flush and just like that the dam broke for real.

"Speaking of pretty sights, Dave in a suit. Hot or not? I don't think I remember seeing him at my Presenting Ceremony," Kurt asked Sebastian and the sub lifted one eyebrow at him in challenge.

"First of all, Dave is always hot. Secondly, not surprising, you spent most of your Presenting either in Blaine's lap or wanting to crawl in there. Third of all… suits are not my real kink about him," he revealed and Thad, "oooh"ed from the floor.

"Spill, Sir Bitchelot," Thad chanted and Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"You need to quit drama club you nerd. But for your information, Dave's strength," he said nodding his head firmly.

"What?" Kurt asked dumbly.

"I like being held down, or up by him. Not just when we have sex but like… I like how hard he squeezes me when he hugs me, I like the fact that he can lift me up and carry me to our bed if I fall asleep on our couch, I like the fact that I feel safe when he's around because he's huge. It might sound stupid but… well…" he trailed off and he was strangely vulnerable in that moment.

"It's not stupid, Seb. I feel the same way with Ryan. Safe. Protected," Thad said and he had room to talk since his Dom was a mountain of a man.

"I fell into subspace on my Presenting night," Kurt blurted out of nowhere and it was like all the air suddenly got sucked out of the room until-

"What the fuck, Hummel?! How is this now just coming up?!" Sebastian practically yelled and Kurt was a deep red color while Jeff was sure he was looking pale as a sheet.

He heard the word subspace and his mind automatically took him back to those terrible forced submissions, the acid words in his ear forcing him to bend to a will that wasn't his own, making him go to a headspace that was dark and cold and debilitating.

"You were talking about feeling safe!" Kurt accused right back, wrapping his arms around himself. "I always feel safe with Blaine so… I don't even know how I got there. One minute we're… well playing and then having sex and then I was already there. It's been happening a lot lately."

"Do you know how rare falling is on your Presenting night is?" Thad asked incredulously. "I mean any sub falling into subspace is statistically low in the first place."

"But you guys have before right?" Kurt double checked anxiously.

He hadn't had a chance to talk to anyone about this but Blaine and while he trusted and valued his Dom's opinion and knowledge, it was a different thing getting it from someone who had been in his position before.

"Well yeah," Seb said. "But not that fast. It happening more after that isn't anything to worry about though. Once you first go you'll find you're more susceptible to it, like… the first time you try something scary. Once you get past that first time and nothing bad happens then it's far easier to go again, right? It's like that. Blaine caught you when you fell, so you're happy to fall again and again."

"Yeah, it took a little while for me and Ryan too, but once I started I didn't want to stop," Thad revealed. "You'll find a stability with it after a while and you won't always be so hyper-sensitive to it. He'll just have to work a little bit more for it," he said with a wink.

Kurt looked towards Jeff for his opinion and his face fell when he saw him. "Oh shit, Jeff…"

"No, I'm fine I promise," the blonde said with a weak smile. "It's just… it takes me back a little that's all."

"To what?" Sebastian asked gently looking between them with a furrow between his high brows.

Jeff swallowed and looked to Kurt, one of the only people he'd told about the specifics of Kevin's ill treatment of him. He found strength in the look Kurt gave him back, no judgment, just support and he took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. This was his choice… and he trusted these subs.

"Kevin… he used to… force me sometimes. To go into subspace," he said barely above a whisper, eyes fixed on his twisting, white knuckled fingers.

Both subs gasped at the revelation.

"I'll kill the fucker. I will honest to god murder him and his family so help me god!" Sebastian growled out, kicking a spare box. "How dare he! How did they possible cover this shit up, he should be locked away!?"

Jeff just shrugged, extremely uncomfortable but somehow, lighter. Like the more people he trusted to share this with, the less he had to carry around himself.

"Jeff," Thad almost whimpered, his big brown eyes filling up.

"Please don't cry, Thad," Jeff begged him with a half-smile. "You'll start me off."

"And then I'll follow. I always do when my blondie does," Kurt said seriously.

"But it's just so… so… not fair," Thad blubbered and Sebastian, surprising everyone, was the one to gather the nerd into his arms.

"It wasn't fair," Jeff acknowledged and he meant it. He'd spent so long believing all those lies about himself that Kevin had poisoned him with. That he was worthless, bad, useless, untalented. It took the best friend in the world, his loving parents, a wonderful Dom that he was sure was his other half somehow and some new amazing friends to make him see that.

And he fought to remind himself of all those good things every time he slipped and fell down that dark hole Kevin had carved out of him.

"Okay. Screw it, I'm crying anyway," Kurt sighed and wiped at his eyes. Jeff opened his arms up for him and Kurt fell into them like old times… only this time the roles were reversed and that felt… nice. "It can be so good, Jeff. It can," Kurt whispered. "You'll see, I know you will. Nick was made for you and you've come so far."

"What's it supposed to feel like?" he found himself asking desperately.

"Surreal," Kurt pulled back and said, his eyes a little faraway as he thought it over. "The world kind of narrows down to just you two and your senses kick up like a thousand times more powerful."

"You feel safe and loved," Sebastian shared. "Like literally nothing in the world could ever hurt you as long as your Dom's got you."

"I think it feels like floating. Its weightlessness and colors. Once you're there you don't wanna come back. Ryan says he has the hardest time getting me out of it," Thad joined in with a little blush, wrapping his arms around his knees loosely.

"Sometimes that's my favorite part," Seb disagreed in another rare, softer moment. "Dave always takes such care of me when I come back up and I don't have to worry about anything, I know he's got me and I don't have any cares."

"Like everything but him smiling at you or kissing you is inconsequential?" Kurt finished for him and Seb shared a smile with him.

It was so different from what Jeff knew and he felt better for knowing it. Not envy or jealousy or feeling left out like he might have expected of himself, just happy somehow that there was something better. Something healthy and right and loving that awaited him.

Them.

"I feel safe with Nick… I want that with him," Jeff whispered softly, a single tear falling down his cheek but they could tell it wasn't sorrow, it was hope that was making him so emotional. He wanted to erase every bad experience with one that he'd want to treasure.

"I have no fucking doubts, Jeff. None at all that you will have that with Nick," Kurt promised him fiercely and Jeff nodded.

"I hope so." And he meant that. Hope. He had that again and it was a fresh, joyful feeling. He nodded again with conviction and repeated, "I feel safe with Nick."

I love him. I feel safe with him… we can get there.

The room went quiet again.

"Because of his arms?" Kurt tried to lighten the mood and he succeeded as Jeff blushed and laughed, watery and high pitched. He smacked him on the arm.

"Shut up, Kurt. And yes… his arms. They feel safe. Like a home," he said, happy for the diversion because he didn't want to dwell on such painful memories and his friends nodded.

"And we get that. That's how a Dom should feel. But like…what is your real kink?" Sebastian asked, his voice soft and caring, letting Jeff know he wasn't required to answer if he didn't want to.

But it was a new Jeff sitting there with them, a quiet, daring fire lighting him up from the inside.

"Praise," he whispered and Thad widened his eyes.

"Really? That much?" he asked curiously. "I mean, I think I speak for a lot of subs when I say that that's generally the case but… that much?" he checked again and Jeff shrugged shyly, sharing a loaded look with Kurt since he knew all about the 'incident' where he came untouched.

"I never felt it like that… that intense I mean, until he came along. I was… I was put down a lot before, and with the whole subspace thing he didn't put me under or bring me up nicely… I guess it's… it's healing to hear it now. I think part of me wants it all the time," he admitted.

"That's okay," Kurt reassured him. "There's nothing shameful about that, sweetie, we've talked about this yeah? And besides, I think that's a good kink to have because I think Nick wants to give it to you all the time anyways."

They all laughed and agreed while Jeff blushed, pleased and warm. He felt like this even though this was a harmless conversation, he'd just made a big step by joining in with it, for sharing some of himself and his past and that made him feel strong for once.

A feeling he was unused to feeling but getting more familiar as the days wore on.

"…that we just had to roll our sleeves up and get to work. Despite all the bad experiences and all the threats hanging over our head. Despite the fear and uncertainty…"

"Hey, Nick. Ryan and I thought we'd jump in the car and grab us something to eat before the subs come here. Pizza okay?" Dave asked as he hauled in the last of the boxes into Nick and Jeff's new apartment.

They'd spent the afternoon slaving over putting their furniture together, harder work than four overconfident Dom's had anticipated, and now they were finally able to breathe and recognize that hauling shit around worked up a hell of an appetite. Jeff, Kurt, Sebastian and Thad would be here in about half an hour with the rest of the stuff and they figured they could all eat together before they left the lovebirds to enjoy their new home.

Nick turned from where he was unpacking some tools he needed to assemble a chair and nodded.

"Pizza sounds awesome. I'll have pepperoni and Jeff likes pineapple on his," he said and they all shared a smile behind his back at how happy he was, just for the fact that he now knew these details about Jeff. Like what he liked on his pizza, and which side of the bed he preferred.

They were so happy for their friend… even if he did ramble on about all those tiny details at least four times a day.

"One pineapple, one pepperoni. Got it. Blaine?" Dave asked as he typed it into the notes on his phone.

"Kurt likes the vegetarian one and I'll have whatever has the most meat on it," he smiled toothily and his friends rolled their eyes at how much he could eat while still remaining so small.

"Got it. Okay… we'll be back soon," Dave said and they excused themselves to go and fetch the food from the nearest place. The neighborhood Nick moved to was fairly new and very few restaurants had started with deliveries to that area yet.

Blaine watched them go and welcomed the absence of the two because he was itching to talk to his best friend about that damned folder. He hadn't caught an opportunity all morning in amongst all the heavy lifting and rearranging and the window he had now was so small he couldn't even really ease into it.

Shit.

"Nick?" he called and as if sensing something in his voice Nick turned towards him, worry evident on his face.

"Is everything okay?" he asked and Blaine put his tools down and sat cross legged on the floor.

"I… I have no idea. But I need to tell you something and I don't think you'll be happy about it," he started and Nick paled at the clear anxiousness on his face and in his voice. "I should have told you directly after I found out but I didn't know how to say it and then there was everything with Kurt and the Bond being so new-"

"Blaine!" Nick cut him off, face tense. "Is… is it something to do with Jeff? Is he okay?" he panicked and Blaine shook his head quickly.

"Jeff's perfectly fine. Shit… it's just… okay look…when Kurt and I went to get registered…we saw a red folder on our Validator's desk," he started and Nick tilted his head in confusion.

"Ouuukay. So what?" he asked and Blaine sighed. He had no idea how to do this. Why wasn't Kurt there? He was always smooth with his words and knew how to do this stuff. How was he supposed to tell his best friend in the world something like this?

"It was… it had Kevin's name on it," he said quietly, there was no point in beating around the bush when he knew he was going to crush the poor guy's heart. Nick gasped, standing up like a bullet and struggling for breath.

"What… what does that… does it…are they taking Jeff…are they giving him back? No… I won't let him!" he raged, panicked and shaking all over and Blaine stood up quickly and caught him by the shoulders.

"Nick… please just breathe. Nobody is taking Jeff from you. They have no right. Kurt and I… we think the folder means they are letting Kevin claim someone else," he explained hastily and Nick stared at him in disgust.

"They are letting that animal hurt another sub? How can they do that, Blaine? They have no right!" he almost screamed and Blaine pulled him in, hugging his friend tightly. It was a risky move, with how worked up Nick was he could have easily flipped on him, but thankfully he wasn't that far gone yet.

"I know. And I agree. But there is literally nothing we can do. I looked into it and we have no rights to meddle in this. We wouldn't even know about it if it wasn't for an accident," he said and Nick knew he was right. He knew they couldn't do a single thing but the thought of another beautiful person, destroyed and eviscerated by that tyrant made his blood boil.

"I wish… I wish I could find him and just… do to him what he did to Jeff. Make him pay," he gritted through his teeth for what seemed like the hundredth time and Blaine nodded in complete understanding. The need for vengeance and justice couldn't be stressed enough.

Blaine let go of him and looked into his face seriously.

"Trust me… if there was a way I'd be there with you to hold him down while you do. But we can't, Nick and Jeff wouldn't want that either," he argued, knowing that mentioning Jeff was certain to bring Nick back to his level again.

"Can we… can we talk to the Validators? Tell them what we know?" Nick asked desperate for something to cling to. Something to make him feel like he was truly keeping Jeff safe and protected. Because right now he felt like he was failing him and he hated that feeling. He made a promise and this felt so much like breaking it already.

"I'm pretty sure they already know about Kevin. His folder was red when all the others were beige and also… they were the ones to remove Jeff from his house. I'm sure they have written documents on that," Blaine reasoned and while he could understand where Nick was coming from he couldn't even begin to comprehend how weak and defeated Nick felt just then.

"What about the sub? Can we find out his name? Or the name of his family? No one in their right mind would let their child go to that vile creature if they knew what he was capable of…" Nick worked himself into a frenzy as he tried to think of something, anything, to get the unknown person away from Kevin.

The thought of another Dom, someday, falling for someone as hurt and tormented as Jeff was and wanting to fix him but being unsure if he could, was breaking his heart. Not because he regretted loving Jeff, but because that other someone might not be as strong as Jeff. Not as willing and as amazing to even want to try again.

And then two people would be sentenced to live alone, miserable and wrecked.

"Nick…" he tried but his friend turned almost savage with rage.

"THERE HAS TO BE SOMETHING, BLAINE!" he screamed and tears welled in his eyes from the depth of his rage and pain, spilling over his cheeks and making his voice break as he clung to his friend's sweater.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, Nick," Blaine consoled softly, fighting the urge to hold his friend close again.

Nick wasn't a sub to be coddled, he was a Dom that was hurting right now and he'd gotten away with invading his personal space once. He might not again if Nick's instincts redirected all that anger and hurt at him instead of the real culprit.

But still, it was almost unreal seeing him like this. Nick was usually calm and funny and happy and this… this pain and rage inside of him almost scared Blaine. It might prove to be too much for Nick and he could snap and do something rash. Not to Jeff…never to Jeff…but if he tried meddling into Validator's business there was no knowing what the consequences might be.

"I feel so useless, Blaine," Nick admitted hoarsely, fists balled and Blaine swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I know, buddy. But you can't risk all this," he waved his hand to indicate the brand new place that would witness the start of his new life with Jeff. "You can't get yourself in trouble because Jeff needs you around," Blaine said and Nick stiffened at the mention of Jeff's name.

"Jeff… I… should I tell him?" he asked, a hint of fear creeping in now, and Blaine shrugged, desperate to help but having no idea how.

"I don't know what to tell you, man. On one hand Kevin has no right to touch him anymore so this isn't really about him. On the other… he might resent the fact that you knew and didn't say anything. I really don't know what the right thing to do here is," Blaine admitted and Nick ran a hand over his face, swiping away the moisture.

"He was… is… he's doing so well, Blaine. Opening up. Sassing me around. He hid all my shoes the other day and when I asked about it later he admitted he used to be a bit of a prankster and that he just felt like doing something silly again. He's turning into who he used to be…and now…" Nick ran that same hand through his hair in frustration and kicked an empty box that just crumbled under the impact.

"This doesn't have to change anything. You don't have to tell him," Blaine said even if his own words sounded hollow. He would never withhold that sort of information from Kurt and he knew Nick was of the same mind.

"Would you tell Kurt?" Nick asked and Blaine knew then his friend knew his thought process better than he gave him credit for.

"I think so, yes," Blaine admitted quietly.

"It'll ruin him. I can't… I don't want him to stop smiling," he said, defeated and tired and Blaine clasped his shoulders.

"Maybe this will show just how well he's doing," Blaine said suddenly and Nick looked up.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, confusion written all over his face.

"The news will scare him for sure. He'll be sad and angry and probably think Kevin would be out to get him but… instead of closing in on himself… maybe this time he'll turn to you for guidance? Show you just how much he trusts you? He's come a long way, Nick, everyone can see that. I truly think he'd rather know than be blindsided with it later," Blaine said and Nick sighed.

"I know. I know that I know but I just want to protect him," Nick growled out, frustrated with himself. He shook his head. "He needs to know. I need to tell him because I can't keep something like that secret when I always said I'd be honest with him. God… I don't even want to imagine how horrible he'll feel to know that someone else might go through the same thing as he did," he said just as he heard cars pulling into their driveway, and spotted Jeff's bright blonde hair through their window, the smile on his face bright and beautiful as he stepped out of the car.

He had to be strong.

Strong for his angel. Because he promised he would be.

"We had to fight. We had to fight for every single person out there who still had a chance to live a better life. We had to fight for everyone who had a dream they were sure was never going to come true. For people who wanted to fly…go to college, work, find love, bond, live…"

"You guys ready for this?" Miriam asked and smiled when Sam and Mercedes exchanged nervous looks between them.

She had approached them weeks ago about helping her reach out to public school seniors, students who just came of age to be able to vote, still idealistic and hopeful and trusting enough to want to try and fight for change.

Change Burt Hummel was offering them.

Him losing that first round of elections had hit her hard, had nearly brought her to tears in fact for the sheer loss of what the man was offering. She'd been bouncing off the walls when she heard the news that he was back in and had redoubled her efforts to secure him as many votes as she could.

And that started here.

She knew they wouldn't respond kindly to her presence, in her posh outfit and clearly very expensive education, but if they heard it all from someone who was one of them… they might take it better.

And Sam and Mercedes seemed like the perfect people for the job.

They were both firmly in Burt's corner since the very beginning and they believed in him and what he was trying to accomplish. And if what they did here today worked... they'd be able to count on the votes from a group of people nobody has ever counted on before.

Approaching the staff of McKinley High had proven to be much easier than Miriam initially expected too. Principal Figgins tried to deflect and turn her down politely but it was a teacher, a strong Dom, stronger than anyone Miriam had met so far, apart from Blaine and Dana, which had spoken up and said it was an amazing idea.

He argued that giving these young people a chance to say something for themselves was something new and they were likely to respond kindly to being trusted with this choice. He was obviously someone who had a lot sway in the school because the other teachers listened to him intently and even the principal caved under his compelling arguments.

Miriam's safety, and the safety of Sam and Mercedes was ensured by the mere fact that Mr. Leviev would stand by them and if that didn't convince her of how powerful he was, nothing else would.
He was standing in front of the small podium, to the right, arms crossed over his chest and eyes scanning the room. The students tuned in to his behaviour almost automatically and responded accordingly. They were taking their cues from him and Miriam knew he was not only powerful but also loved and respected in the school.

It made her feel safer and more optimistic knowing he was on their side, and it clearly meant the world to Mercedes and Sam who had had the privilege of attending Mr. Leviev's classes.

She squeezed Mercedes' shoulder in encouragement as the girl shuffled with the cards in her hands, points of her speech written neatly on each of them. They had agreed she would be the one to speak at the assembly. Sam stating that he had no public speaking skills and that he felt like Mercedes would be far better than him in making the speech warm and touching and compelling instead of just rattling political facts in front of people who just didn't care.

Miriam listened intently as Principal Figgins welcomed the students and it made her optimistic that they seemed interested and alert to hearing what was going on. She wasn't sure if they welcomed the excuse from attending classes or they genuinely wanted to be more involved, but she had high hopes for the success of this assembly.

And if they made it here, there was all the more chance of them succeeding in other public schools around their Circle.

"You can do this. Just talk to them normally," Miriam said softly as Figgins introduced the speaker and Mercedes nodded, looking at Sam and smiling when he blew her a playful kiss. She loved how geeky he still got even through all the trials they went through. He was still childish and silly and she loved him for it.

She turned back towards the podium and climbed the two creaky steps that took her to the centre of the floor. More than a hundred pairs of eyes stared directly at her as she cleared her throat and channelled her inner diva. She could do this. For herself and her Dom and everyone else who just wanted a better life for themselves.

"Hi everyone," she started shakily, but her voice grew in strength. "My name is Mercedes Jones and I'm a student here. A senior. Most of you will probably be more familiar with my Dom Sam Evans. We've been together for almost two years now, we live together, we love each other. But… we can't be registered because we can't afford it."

She glanced around the room taking in the faces of her classmates. They weren't overly impressed so far because loads of them were in the exact same position and the information did not come as a surprise at all.

She decided to just go on and say everything she came to say.

"Sam wants to be a model. He's got the looks for it too." The crowed giggled at that and it relaxed her further. "I'd like to be a singer. Or a teacher. And I'm sure each and every one of you want to be something as well. Writers, doctors, nurses, mechanics, tailors… but the truth is… we can't do that either. Because we can't afford it."

This time, the crowd frowned at the reminder and she knew she was getting to them. This wasn't a dissimilar conversation to hear in usual friendship circles at break or in the cafeteria. It was on everyone's minds.

"Every four years they play pretend to be holding democratic elections. Seemingly trying to make the world a better place, fighting for human rights, promising the impossible. But nobody has ever asked us what we needed. And we've never had the chance to support a cause we like. Because we're always forgotten. Last year my best friend was claimed by Dom Blaine Anderson."

There was a scatter of hushed murmurs around the room as they shared gossip about the pale sub they usually ignored when he was clearly good enough to capture the attention of someone as famous and powerful as Blaine.

"Another friend of mine, was claimed by Dom Nick Duval. Through them I met a lot of high society people. People who I was prejudiced against. Thought they could not care less about what happened to us. And then I realized that wasn't the truth. They do care. And they want to make things better. They are backing up Burt Hummel, our own repair man to run for Head with the Program that should put everyone on equal grounds. We could… go to college, register our bonds, find jobs, live… like human beings. All it takes is for us to go out and vote," she said passionately and the crowd seemed to eat out the palm of her hand until one boy raised his hand.

"It all sounds great, and yeah it would be nice to vote but… there was never a voting spot anywhere near Lima. And we have no way to travel to the nearest one," he said and the crowed murmured their agreement.

"And where is he getting the money to fund all this?" another voice piped in joined by another right after.

"And we haven't even seen his Program. Why should we take your word for it?"

"I can honestly say that I'm not really informed about politics at all. But Miriam here, she's Burt's youth advisor. She can answer any of your questions if you'd like?" Mercedes said, raising her palms up to stop the flood of questions and the students nodded in eagerness.

She turned around and Miriam joined her on stage, shaky but beaming with pride at her new friend for how well she handled herself.

"Thank you, Mercedes. And I'll be glad to answer any questions you might have. As Mercedes said my name is Miriam Sanders, I'm an economy and business major at Dalton and as of recently, Burt Hummel's youth advisor," she introduced herself and the crowd broke out in murmurs when she stated her school.

It was clear they didn't trust her because of her upbringing, but the curiosity Mercedes had ignited was much stronger.

"What does that mean exactly? Youth advisor?" someone asked without raising their hand and as much as she was a stickler for rules she decided to let them feel comfortable and on equal grounds with her. She moved forward and hopped of the podium, choosing instead to sit back on it which brought her to the same level as them. She didn't want to stand taller than all of them giving of the feel of being more important or powerful.

She looked at Mr. Leviev and he smiled at her approvingly, having used her technique often.

"A youth advisor is someone who reminds the candidate running for Head not to forget the needs of the younger generation. I'm close to your age and I have a fairly decent understanding of what you're all thinking of right now. Finishing high school, finding that person who's just right for you, worrying about a job… it's my responsibility to remind the grown-ups not to forget that in their haste to fight for position and an advantage in the election," she answered and the students gave tentative nods.

"So… about that voting thing… most of the students never even get invited to vote so…how will it work?" another person asked, this time closer to the front so Miriam saw it was a fair haired, relatively short boy who spoke.

"That's exactly why I'm here. I have spoken about this problem with Burt and his campaign managers. Counting on the students is a smart move. You guys are the people inheriting the world no matter how good or bad they make it. As such, you should have the right to speak up and say what kind of world you'd like to inherit. Burt Hummel's campaign will make sure to fund voting posts in several places in Lima, all a walking distance from high schools around the town. He wants to make sure you all get a say in this," she answered truthfully.

"So basically, we have to vote for him?" someone asked and she smiled.

"Not at all. I have brought with me printed programs of both candidates. Unfortunately, we didn0t have the mean to make this happen before the first round so you'd know everyone who ran, but usually two of the best candidates go through. Sam and Mercedes will give them out to you. My contact information is at the bottom. Read them, get to know each and every point of them, ask me anything you might find confusing and when you're sure you know everything you might want, then decide who gets your vote. We're not trying to create another dictatorship. We truly want a democracy and equal opportunity for all," she said and motioned to Sam and Mercedes who took out the box she brought and started handing out information packets on both of candidates.

Their plan, all along, was to inform young people and inspire them into action. Not to bribe them or force them into voting for someone. She just wanted them to have access to the same information every other student in Westerville had.

"Was there anyone good in the first round?" someone asked and Miriam shrugged.

"One decent candidate in my opinion." She answered truthfully and the boy who asked the question tilted his head.

"Why didn't he go through, then?"

"Because you'll find that what I find decent, clashes horribly with what the Westerville's voters think of as decent. His program was fair, not perfect, but fair. He wanted to give the underprivileged parts of society some leverage. Health insurance for example. It wasn't well received. Mostly because it didn't occur to his team to take his program to the people it was created for." She said and the boy nodded in understanding, turning back to his packet.

The rustling of papers continued as they peeked curiously at the information she gave them as well as her own email address they could now contact her through using the school's new computer room.

"Are we allowed to know all this?" a girl with dirty blonde hair and deep blue eyes asked from the front row.

"Every candidate's Program should be public knowledge. It's the Common law. No election can be held in secrecy. Just because that's the way it was done so far doesn't make it right. You have the right to know who wants to shape your future for the next four years at the least and stand up against it if you don't approve. I just wanted to make sure you have that option," she said and the blonde girl smiled before turning back to the papers.

"I like you. Why didn't you run?" someone asked from the center of the auditorium and she barked out an amused laugh.

"Well, I'm not done with college yet. And I don't think I'm ready to do something that big on my own. But thank you for that. Maybe someday," she beamed and there was another teasing question.

"Are you taken?"

This time everyone laughed because it could be heard that the question was meant as a good natured joke and not flirting or disrespect.

"I am, yes. My Dom is also into economy and business. But not politics I'm afraid. He finds it boring," she answered with a smile and the boy who asked the question nodded.

"I'm with him on that."

"Guys… I know this is all new for you and maybe you're not sure what it all means. But I can honestly tell you I'll answer anything you might want to know and you're free to contact me whenever you'd like," she said sincerely and received a few smiles from the crowd.

"Are you going to do this in other schools too?" the blonde girl asked again and Miriam nodded.

"If they allow it, we plan on it. This week," she answered.

"Is it… do you need help? I… I've always been interested in it, but never had the chance to see how it's done and so… I don't know…if I can help in any way I'd be happy to," she said and her voice grew thin and unsure as she finished her nervous rant.

Miriam smiled at her. She knew how it felt to want to do something but not have the chance. And she did speak to Burt about having volunteers help out with smaller tasks like printing and organizing stuff while being able to learn about the election process in exchange. He had agreed and put her in charge.

"Is there anyone else who might be interested in something like that?" she asked and two more hands were raised.

"Okay then, you three stay behind and we'll talk and the rest of you… thank you for your attention. Thank you for being kind and engaging and thank you Mr. Figgins and Mr. Leviev for your help today, and Mercedes and Sam for being my link to your classmates. I had a lot of fun talking to you today. I hope I see you at the elections, no matter who your vote goes to," she said and a booming applause shot through the room as people filed out, chatting excitedly and discussing what they just heard.
Something shifted in them, she knew.

The feeling of ability to be proactive instead of passively waiting for whatever someone else chose for you.

She stood off to the side and was soon joined by the three students who were interested in helping. The blonde girl, a sub named Carla, the boy who teasingly asked Miriam if she were taken, a Dom called Preston, and another sub named Theo, who didn't speak during the assembly but seemed eager to learn as much as possible.

She called out to Mercedes and Sam and invited the three of them for coffee to talk about what their tasks would be. She exchanged looks with her new friends and she knew they all thought the same.

Today was amazing.

"We had to fight for every parent out there. Who wanted to see their child strive and be happy. For every coworker who knew the uncertainty of their job; one day you could put food on the table, the other day you're out in the street. And for every friend who stood by our side through thick and thin…"

Burt Hummel was a man of habit. He liked certain foods, certain sports, certain past time activities and he rarely changed.

He also liked certain people.

He'd had the same friends since high school and while he did like to meet new people, and in the past year since his son was claimed he had found a whole new circle of almost friends, his old ones were still his true friends. Which is why his first day of canvasing Lima for his campaign found him standing in front of his oldest friend's house, heart hammering and bile rising in his throat.

The truth was, they didn't leave things on the best of grounds the last time they spoke. Burt had told Nelson about his running for Head and the other man almost hit him. He told him that he had betrayed everything they believed in by associating himself with people from high society and that they would only use him and his son to gain a better reputation for their own victory in the elections.

Burt saw where he was coming from, later…when he had calmed down. There were a lot of misconceptions going around from both sides. The rich saw the poor as annoyances, as something less than them because of their circumstances and the poor saw the rich as snobbish, as ignorant and cold.

He had to admit that he had been one of them until his son had been claimed and his eyes were opened.

You couldn't judge everyone under the same banner.

But, being hotheaded as he was, at the time he had snapped and words were exchanged he had deeply regretted since then. And if he knew his friend like he thought he knew him, Nelson regretted it too. Since then he'd been paraded around like a prize pony, lost the elections and been reinstated and like he'd told Dana, he wanted to do the rest of the campaign his way. Which meant he needed, and very much wanted, help from his oldest friends.

So he raised his hand and knocked, hoping that his best friend was still the same guy who'd helped him plan his first date with Kurt's mom.

He waited for what felt like hours until he heard steps from the inside and the key being turned in the lock.

"What are you doing here?" Nelson asked when he finally opened the door and Burt could tell there was no real malice in his voice. He was proud and stubborn, it was etched into the lines on his face and the grey at his temples, but he was a good man and a good friend.

"I… well I came to ask if I could talk to you for a moment?" Burt said awkwardly, hating the way the conversation stilled between them for the first time in the almost forty years that they had known each other.

Nelson regarded him for a few seconds before nodding softly and opening the door wider, gesturing for Burt to enter. He headed straight for the living room and sat on the couch, as he had done millions of times over the years. He knew Nelson would sit on a battered old arm chair his wife hated but he refused to get rid of. Funny how what was once so familiar to him now seemed foreign under the tense circumstances. Instead of welcomed he felt anxious.

He looked at his friend and the man cocked an eyebrow at him in question.

"Well…" he prompted and Burt cleared his throat, adjusting the brim of his cap.

"Okay… I know we left things in a bad place last time-" Burt started and Nelson scoffed.

"Understatement," he spat bitterly and Burt sighed.

"Look… I know what you think of me. And I know why you think so too. I…I spent some time thinking about what you said and I understand why you'd feel like I'm betraying my beliefs," Burt said carefully, not wanting to ignite any more fires. He wanted his best friend in his corner.

"Aren't you?" Nelson asked pointedly, not one to let anything go.

"I don't think so," he said honestly and that got the other man's attention at least. Burt Hummel never said anything he didn't mean. "Nel… I didn't choose for my son to be claimed by the Anderson kid. I didn't choose to suddenly be someone who gets headlines in trashy magazines and gossip columns. I didn't want any of it. But Blaine picked Kurt. And with that came the consequences of our entire family being in the spotlight. And I hated it," Burt said and Nelson lifted his eyebrow condescendingly.

"Sure looks like you're hating it," he said sarcastically and Burt ran a tired hand over his face.

"I don't like it. I didn't choose it. But I did chose to use it to my advantage. Our advantage," he said and Nelson stood up, pacing his living room.

"What… by turning into one of them? Parading around in suits and pretending you're doing this for the good of all of us?" he bit back and Burt nodded, meeting him look for look but not challenging the man in his own home by getting up as well.

"Yes, actually. I'm not pretending. You know I'm not the smartest man around and the help I get from Dana Anderson and her friends is more than necessary. But I am doing this for Lima and the people in it. I'm not some rich man's puppet. Nearly losing the elections showed me that and it would mean the world to have my best friend's support," he said and saw the other man freeze for a fraction of a second.

"What the hell can I do that wads of cash from your new friends can't give you?" he asked and Burt smiled sadly.

"Knowledge of what Lima needs. I wasn't lying when I said I want this for all of them. This is the Program I'm running with. If I win… it has to be followed. So please just… read it at least. Then I give you free reign to tell me to go to hell."

He offered a dark green binder and Nelson hesitated for one second before taking it and sitting down with it in his lap. Silence stretched as he flipped the pages, fingers rubbing contemplatively over his mouth and face expressions ranging from surprise, to shock, to something like hope.

Burt was almost shaking with nerves by the time he reached the end and closed the binder, staring at him like he had just saw him from the first time.

"This… Burt… If you win…" he tried but he couldn't get the words out.

"If I win, all of those things have to happen. Maybe it will take a year maybe all four of them, but they have to happen. And by the time I'm done, if I'm not re-elected we'll make sure we find someone trustworthy to run instead. So the change can keep happening," Burt explained and Nelson clutched the binder between his broad, work worn hands.

"A lot of politicians make a lot of promises they can't keep, Burt," Nelson told him and Burt gave him a half smile.

"I know. And I know it's gonna be hard work, I know that too. But I ain't ever been in the business of making promises I can't keep and we'll be fighting uphill the whole way but I'm ready for that. Are you?" he asked seriously. "I really want you on my side with this."

Nelson paused in thought for another long moment.

"It means college for Sandy. She could be a writer," he said, thinking of his only daughter who was so incredibly talented it hurt to think she would never be able to live up to her potential.

"Yes she could. I just need your help," Burt said and Nelson looked him straight in the eye for what felt like an age, his old friend looking into him and reading him easily. Every good intention and misstep.

He nodded.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked and Burt smiled wide, filling him in on his plans to canvas Lima house to house or in small meetings instead of doing the typical speeches where nobody was allowed to ask anything or disagree in any way. The more he talked, the more enthusiastic he got and the more that seemed to rub off on Nelson despite his earlier vehemence and trepidation.

"I need you to spread the word to people. Be in my corner, so to speak," Burt finished and Nelson nodded.

"You can count on me," he said and then his eyes dimmed. "And man… I'm sorry for what I said. I mean, I still don't know about all of them… but I believe in you and I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions without hearing your side. Always have followed you into the stupidest of situations right?"

Burt laughed. "Hey… water under the bridge," Burt said with a smile and Nelson smiled wide and bright in return as they clasped hands across the space firmly.

"So… when do we start?"

"…people who have been around when all hope was almost gone. Hope is…hope is a funny thing. It makes you both scared and brave at the same time. Scared because you know everything can just crash and burn around you…

"Are you sure about this?" Sebastian asked drolly from his side as he looked around the field they had set up in for the first official Dalton/Lima senior mixer.

It was located on the outskirts of Lima, a sort of neutral territory, making it accessible to both the Dalton students who had farther to go but had access to transportation and Lima students who would be able to walk without much trouble if necessary.

"Yes," Kurt confirmed confidently scanning a critical eye over all the plain white marquis' they had put up and checking it against his clipboard. There were chairs, picnic benches and blankets scattered all around the lush grass and in and around those were a few stalls they had set up for some of the local Lima tradesman from whom they bought food and drinks. They'd even set up one to give away the free merchandise Kurt had designed and Red had produced, in fact, a lot of the organizers were already wearing some of the pieces today. Blaine refusing to consider putting anything other than Kurt's designs on his back.

That had been Thad's brainwave and Kurt had almost kissed the sub straight on the mouth for being such an adorable little genius. Not only would it help bridge the gap between the classes, but it was also an opportunity for some of the locals to earn some money, or even establish new working contacts.

"I'm not really seeing a lot of other students, just the same old Dalton faces," David commented from his right, hands slung in the pockets of his low rise jeans. His plain black Henley was stretched nicely across his shoulders and Kurt was glad everyone had made the effort to dress casual enough that it wouldn't intimidate or embarrass any of the Lima students. "And they probably only came because we've set up the stage for the Warbler's," he continued.

"Not just us, it's an open mic so anyone can get up there. Mercedes is planning on singing and she'll kill it… and Sam said he might try something out too," Kurt argued, but his faith was getting a little shaky as he looked around again worriedly. There was a slow but steady trickle of the more open minded liberal Dalton students but other than that, David was right. Same old faces.

People were going to show up… right?

Miriam had said that her talks at the schools had gone pretty well for the most part. McKinley was their success story, a lot of that due to the fact that Mercedes and Sam had been there and Kurt and Jeff had come from there so they already had something or someone to relate to. The rest of the schools in Lima had been a bit harder to crack because they didn't have that immediate in, she had to start from scratch and try and build a rapport with a bunch of students that resented her on principal. She was optimistic though and so Kurt had excitedly planned this whole day to further relations between both sides and hopefully get a number of them to back his father in the process.

It didn't once cross his mind that no one would turn up at all.

Well, there were the volunteers Miriam had accumulated, around ten of them in total, so he supposed that was better than nothing. Pasting a smile on his face he decided to be optimistic. It was only ten o'clock in the morning, they still had the whole day for people to arrive.

Corrine suddenly bounded up on his left, blonde hair piled in loose curls on her head amidst the headset she had demanded to have when Kurt had asked her to help marshal the event along with the other Warblers and their better halves. The power may have been going to her head a little, her captain of the cheer squad attitude coming out to play like a lion jumping from the tall grass.

"Kurt," she said sternly, blue eyes narrowing. "What's the point of me having this thing if you're not going to answer?!"

David ducked his head to cover his smirk that he wasn't the one getting yelled at by the half-pint spitfire for once.

Kurt reached for the walkie in his back pocket a bit sheepishly. He'd turned the thing off to cut off the endless chatter. Between Thad and Ryan exchanging love notes and Corrine clogging up the airways barking orders left and right he'd begun to get a headache. He was sure that half the people who had one had done the same thing… Sebastian had refused to even touch one in the first place and simply walked behind Dave as he shifted equipment and offered 'morale' support to his Dom.

It was a good way to say he was a lazy bitch who just wanted to perv over his Dom.

"Sorry, 'Rin. I must have switched frequencies by accident," he lied, discreetly turning the thing back up. Sebastian snorted but kept his eyes on Dave who was rearranging a few benches with Ryan, muscles straining and bulging under thin shirts. "What's going on?"

"Blaine and Wes have finished with the wiring for the stage. We're all set," she informed him with a self-satisfied smile.

"Great!" Kurt beamed, bouncing a little on his toes. "I'm gonna go over to Nick and Jeff and see if he's finished painting the signs for the stands."

"Ten four boss McDreamy," Corrine saluted him.

David spluttered at his sub, suddenly not so amused. "He's not dreamy! I'm dreamy! You're only supposed to say that about me."

"Sir. Is Kurt, or is he not dreamy?" she asked bluntly.

David glanced over at Kurt who was blushing a little in embarrassment. "Fine, he is," David grumbled with a huge scowl. "You don't have to point it out though."

"You're cute when you're jealous. But make that an order and I may just comply," Corrine grinned, tongue between her teeth and David began to smile again, a wicked light coming into his eyes.

Kurt slipped away before she could say anything else or David could pounce.

"Angel, it's perfect I promise," he heard Nick assuring his best friend as he came up behind their sitting figures hunched over five wide banners. "They're going to love them, okay?"

"Of course they're going to love them," Kurt said, announcing himself.

Both heads swiveled around and Kurt met Jeff's anxious eyes with reassuring ones of his own.

"You haven't even seen them properly yet," he said, a tiny smile tugging at his lips regardless and Kurt smiled cheekily back.

"Don't need to, blondie. Now, are they dry? We can get Blaine to help you hang them Nick if that's okay?" he asked the Dom who nodded getting to his feet.

"Sure, send your lazy Dom on over here. Hauling amps and instruments around is for the weak, he needs to be hanging banners like a true boss," Nick said surely making the two subs laugh.

Kurt pulled out his walkie. "Blaine?"

"Is this heaven calling?" came the smooth reply that made heat rush to Kurt's cheeks at how off guard it caught him. "You certainly have the voice of an angel oh lovely being, it must be heaven."

"Uh… what?"

"Even confused you're divine. I am not worthy I tell you. Say something else, I beg of you."

Nick burst out laughing and Jeff sucked his lips in to keep from laughing himself. Kurt was mortified.

"Sir," he hissed in confused shock. "Everyone can hear you!"

"Good! Let everyone know how lucky I am," Blaine declared dramatically. "They're just jealous."

A look around the field showed those of them that still had their radios on listening to them intently with smirks on their laughing faces. Jealous? No. Amused? Hell yes.

Kurt was going to kill him.

"You guys are seriously better than my fav reality shows. Keep talking, I'm recording this shit," Corrine's chirpy voice came next.

Oh god.

He glanced around until he located Blaine near the stage leaning against a speaker casual as you please, ankles crossed over, one hand in his front pocket and walkie up to his mouth. Those golden flecked eyes were sparkling right now, he just knew they were.

"I'm confiscating your radio. I hope you know that, sir," Kurt told him sternly.

"But, lovely. We need to show Thad and Ryan how it's done! And I haven't even compared your eyes to the stars yet! Or serenaded you! Or-"

"That's it," Kurt muttered, listening to the increasingly ridiculous and tooth rotting drivel Blaine was drawling to him as he closed the distance between them at a run.

"This is like that scene in the meadow in movies," Blaine said to him, the laughter unmistakable in his voice now. "Run into my arms amongst this field of roses my love!"

Kurt jumped onto him, radios hitting the floor, and the smug Dominant was expecting it so caught him easily and grinned up at him, all straight, white perfect teeth in that stupid perfect mouth that said stupid, cheesy things and god damn it if they didn't fall straight into kissing somehow.

From the floor they could hear bits and pieces of cut off catcalling and whistling and jeers from their friends who were cutting each other off to be heard.

"You are the worst," Kurt huffed into Blaine's mouth before their lips met again.

Blaine hummed into the kiss and licked playfully at his top lip. "You bonded to me, lovely. For better or worse."

Kurt tightened his legs around Blaine's hips and wrapped his arms around his head, pulling back to look him in the eyes, affecting an innocent air. "So you're the worst and I'm the best, sir?"

"Such mouth, lovely. I'm not going to have to punish you am I?" he teased, eyes dark, as he walked them over to the makeshift stage and sat Kurt down on the edge, staying comfortably between his legs so he could kiss over his chin and down his neck. Kurt shivered and pushed into the contact, a little noise escaping his throat that told Blaine everything he needed to know.

"Uh… you do know that I'm here right?" Wes asked uncomfortably from the stage itself behind Kurt. "I've not suddenly turned invisible."

Kurt flushed. He hadn't spotted Wes there at all actually. "Um, Blaine. We need to put up Jeff's banners before everyone gets here, I told Nick I'd ask you for help," he said, arching his neck back to try and look him in the face.

Blaine huffed into his collarbone unhappily. "Why do the two shortest people get to put the banners up?"

"Comedy value?" Wes asked dryly.

Blaine made another unhappy noise and Kurt cooed at him, petting over the back of his neck discreetly. His Dom purred like a cat and tightened his arms around his hips.

"Huh… I guess they decided to come together. Miriam's going to be ecstatic," Wes mused next and Kurt snapped his head around sharply.

There in the distance were a large group of teenagers that were clearly local, they were hanging around the edges of the field obviously eyeing the set up and whether or not they wanted to come closer or even if they were truly welcome.

Kurt couldn't keep the smile off his face and he looked to Blaine to see him smiling at him in return. "See, nothing to worry about, lovely."

"Let's go greet them," Kurt said enthusiastically and his Dom took his hand and stepped back to help him hop down to the grass.

Hand in hand they hurried over to the nervous, wary looking group, hopes high.

"…but brave because even though everything could and IS crashing down on you, you're still willing to put yourself out there, if only for one second…"

"C'mon, lovely. We hardly ever go out. I think it'll be good to get away from all the crazy for a little while," Blaine coaxed into the junction of Kurt's neck and shoulder as he watched him tease his hair in the mirror in the bathroom. It was already perfect, Kurt was just needlessly fussing.

"But there's still so much to do. The final election results are just around the corner and Dana said this last week was the most important one yet. The final debate is tomorrow and my dad doesn't really know what to expect," Kurt worried, that anxious line that had begun to form and set between his brows since the day they came off their 'honeymoon' period, getting steadily deeper.

He wanted to help his dad as much as he could, but in all honesty, all he could do was support him morally now. He'd arranged the Dalton/Lima mixer that had gone surprisingly well, the two groups of people being brought together by a shared love of music and laughter and good food once the event had gotten into full swing. And at this point, more T-shirts or wristbands weren't going to do a whole lot of good so he was stuck just watching and hoping for the best.

He had zero clue about the actual politics of this thing and as much as he tried he'd never really grasped the intricacies of what needed to be done, so he felt torn between the need to help and the fear of messing something up. Miriam had been a blessing in all of that. She had offered Kurt to help her set everything she was working on up where he could, knowing how much he needed to feel useful. And he truly was grateful but nothing seemed to be good enough anymore and he was truly on edge.

He guessed what was really bugging him was that look that had been pasted on Burt's face after the first round of elections. He's been so downcast at his loss Kurt didn't know what to do to help him. It meant so much to all of them.

"None of which is up to you, lovely. My mom is helping Burt prepare and you've done more than enough. All we can do now is wait." Kurt opened his mouth, probably to protest and Blaine gave him a stern very 'Dom' look that had him closing it again. "Don't make me order you for your own good, I will you know."

"You can't force me to go out, Blaine," Kurt huffed, dropping the comb that was in his spare hand onto the marble counter with a clatter. He knew he was being stubborn and defiant for no apparent reason other than nerves but… it was his go to reaction and he just couldn't help it.

"Kurt," Blaine warned and the sub blew a breath through his nose, mouth screwed up into a tight pinch.

It reminded Blaine sharply of the way Kurt had begun acting around the time of the blackouts. Snappy and peevish and Blaine wanted to do better this time around now he recognized the signs. He didn't want it to get to the point where Kurt was too worked up to be rational and he would have to punish him for acting out, he wanted instead to try and cut it off at the pass.

"I know you're stressed, but taking it out on me or anyone else isn't going to change anything," he said slow and patiently, and Kurt reacted to that voice instantly with a muffled whimper in the back of his throat. He knew Blaine would understand and he just waited, braced himself for his Dom to catch up on his cues and help bring him out of his messed up head.

"Sir, I feel… I feel…" he couldn't get it out and Blaine hushed him softly, reaching out and pulling his trembling sub into his arms.

"I know, lovely. I know," he whispered softly as he held him close, his own heart matching the erratic beats of Kurt's.

He took it one step further and reached up towards Kurt's mark, sweeping the side of his finger over it first before massaging his thumb into the bright, colored skin. Kurt went practically boneless at the touch and leaned heavily on the counter for support, eyes closed and lips parted around little gusts of air. He was so beautifully, amazingly sensitive there Blaine couldn't keep his hands away for long.

He kissed the side of his sub's jaw as he alternated pressures on his neck and waited until Kurt had melted into a puddle before pulling his thumb away to simply cup the whole area in his palm. He had learned quickly that once his mark was touched, Kurt hated when Blaine just simply took his hand away. It was much easier for him when Blaine did it gradually and so he did everything he could to make sure Kurt was happy and satisfied.

"Wouldn't it be nice to get out of the house, baby? Answer me honestly," he commanded at the end, voice firm but loving and encouraging.

"Yes, sir," Kurt murmured, eyes fluttering back open and neck pressing back into his hand.

"And I want to spoil my good boy, wouldn't that be nice as well?" he pressed, voice lowering as he winked playfully at Kurt, knowing that any chance of him being pampered by Blaine would be met with absolute compliance from the sub.

Kurt's eyes twinkled and he bounced a bit on the tips of his toes. "Yes, sir."

Blaine smiled and coaxed his head around so they weren't looking at each other through the mirror anymore. "Get your jacket and coat then baby, I'll pull the car around," he whispered into the miniscule gap between their mouths, before pecking his lips gently.

He stroked over his mark one last time and then he was gone, plans already forming in his mind as he grabbed his phone from his pocket. He nearly bumped into his father on the way down the stairs and gripped onto the banister to keep from tumbling down the last few.

"Woah! Where's the fire, Blaine?" Jared exclaimed, reading glasses perched on his nose and book under his arm.

"I'm taking Kurt on a date," he said happily.

"Ah. Nervous about your first one?" Jared smiled knowingly and Blaine frowned.

"It's not our first." He thought about it. "Is it? No... it can't be. We've been out before. We went out on the boat in the Canary Islands and did datey things. We've been to football games and stuff."

"When you weren't technically, officially together," Jared pointed out with a barely hidden smirk when he saw his son turn pale and his eyes widening in terror.

Blaine swallowed as the truth of that sunk in. Since they'd been back in Westerville, with the exception of their Presenting Ceremony, Blaine hadn't taken Kurt out on a single outing that could be classed emphatically as a date. "Oh my god, you are the worst parent in the world. Why have you put this pressure on me you monster?"

Jared rolled his eyes and clapped him on the shoulder.

"You'll work it out," he said cheerfully before ascending the stairs and rounding the corner to his office.

"What do I do? Don't you dare walk away from me… dad! Dad!" He scowled severely at the answering laughter that drifted away and stared at his phone blankly.

Suddenly an ordinary dinner somewhere to blow off some steam wouldn't cut it. Kurt deserved to be romanced and treated right. He'd already had an unconventional start to their whole bond thanks to him, the least Blaine wanted to do is give him a few normal experiences as well. And that meant romancing the hell out of him on their first, official date.

A new idea forming in his head had him on the phone in a matter of seconds, barking out orders and silently praying for his sub to stick to his usual, hour and a half long getting ready routine.

He had never been more grateful for Kurt's diva-ish tendencies.

"…you're willing to let your walls come down and allow others to see you. Allow them to break you possibly. And some of them, some of them will try. If you open up someone will always try to break you. But if you open up…"

How could his life turn so confusing in a matter of weeks?

Danai ran a tired hand over his face, the calloused skin catching on the dark stubble on his face, reminding him of how he had spent his weekend so far. Alone and holed up in his apartment, stressed, aggravated and feeling way too big for his own skin. Skin that had fit him perfectly ever since he was a child.

He was confident in himself and level headed with his emotions, always had been. He'd never gone through that trying period where his instincts when they kicked in fully at puberty got the best of him, he'd simply got a firm hold on them first and kept that control. But what he was experiencing right now was torture. A taste of what every other unlucky Dom or sub had probably gone through multiple times in the course of their lives.

He'd known from an early age that the life his parents had set out for him wasn't right.

He was a direct heir of a Russian noble family. His last name granted him money, good schools, high social circles and the opportunity to be whatever he wanted to be. As long as what he wanted to be fit with what the society approved of.

But it didn't.

In Russia the divide between the poor and rich was even more prominent than here, almost dangerously so. He had always felt furious at the way his parents turned their heads away from the beggars in the street, ignored the hungry cries of children they just walked past and refused to employ anyone who didn't have a degree from a top class college no matter what their capabilities were.

He felt ashamed for having so much while others had nothing. So he saved his allowance and handed it out to the people he met in the streets of Moscow. He brought extra food with him in his backpack wherever he went and spent his free time helping the poor kids in his vicinity learn how to read. He wanted to be different. He wanted to rise up.

He wanted change. Real change.

So when the time came for him to pick a college and dedicate his life to one calling he packed his bags and moved to America, finishing college and looking for jobs at poor district schools where he managed to reach out to the kids everyone else gave up on a long time ago. For the first time in his life he had felt pride. Pride in the fact that he made them want to learn and shine and rise above what their upbringing allowed them. Push at the boundaries and strive for more.

He was strict, and hard and unforgiving but his heart loved. And his students knew. Subs looked at him for protection, advice and comfort and Doms looked up to him, wanting to be like him when they found their special someone.

The special someone Danai had no luck finding in all the years he had tried. Until he came along.

He had imagined in his lonelier moments what his sub would be like. Sweet, compliant, obedient and warm; the equilibrium for his ferocious dominance is what he pictured in his mind's eye.

Brad was nothing like that.

He was beautiful, there was no question about it. Tall and lean with icy grey blue eyes and sand colored hair that just begged to be pulled. Danai could feel the thrum of submissiveness beneath his skin, how deep it really went even though he fought it. How his blood ran hot and needy through his veins, calling out like a siren song even while Brad's mouth spat acid at him.

It pulled at something equally deep within the teacher and had him orbiting Brad helplessly. The thought of that cocky smirk giving way to a soft smile under the tips of his fingers made him want to scream with need. The idea that those eyes could look at him with affection rather than loathing had him awake in the middle of the night.

But the reality was that Brad was cold; defiant, spiteful, vengeful, bitter. His lips didn't lift unless it was to give that mockery of a smile, he didn't meet his gaze unless it was to throw daggers his way and most of all… it looked like he was determined to push everyone away, most of all him.

"Okay class, thank you all for being so engaged in today's discussion. Great job." Danai smiled at his students as he saw some of them still fuming from trying to prove their point to those who disagreed.
He had chosen the dystopian themed book on purpose, curious to see what they would make of it.

They grumbled and complained when they realized The Giver was a book from the children's section of their newly renovated library, but had fallen silent quickly after realizing the heaviness of the theme the book talked about. As the days passed more and more of them came up with their own thoughts and theories and opinions on the book and he realized a full on debate would be a good way to let them share their feelings on the material.

And they delivered. They made him proud as always.

To his internal disappointment Brad chose to stay out of discussion. He sat at his desk, that patented smirk plastered firm on his pretty face, but Danai could tell he was interested. Not because he knew him, or because Brad was bad at hiding his emotions. He could just feel him. As clear as if he could read his mind. The intensity of it scared him slightly. But Danai Leviev was almost as legendary in his bravery as he was in his control.

He wouldn't let one privileged little beauty run him to the ground. He would come out on top, a winner, with or without completing his mission. With or without Brad in his arms.

"Okay. Now…to wrap up this theme I have a project that will be due next Thursday." He pulled a tiny box filled with folded up pieces of paper.

"On these papers I have written 10 opinions on the book and another 10 opinions countering those. You will each pick one, find the person with the opposing theory and work in pairs, argument each opinion, both the original one and the countering one, and then try and find middle ground, try and pick the best and the worst parts of both to create a whole new theory," he finished and handed the box out for the students to pick a topic to write about.

They all pulled one out and started shuffling around looking for their partners and within minutes they all settled down at their desks working out what they wanted to write.

All but two.

Sandy, a small, pixie haired sub with fantastic writing skills and a potential to become something great if she could enter a college, and Brad.

"Is there a problem?" he asked Sandy and she widened her round green eyes at him, clearly uncomfortable to be left standing alone and without a partner.

"No, Mr. D… I just… um…" she shrugged and glanced to the front row where Brad sat completely at ease, picking at his nails and humming something under his breath.

"Mr. Robson is there a problem?" Danai addressed the boy by name, tone stern and dominant, commanding attention.

Brad's flinch was invisible to everyone but Danai whose eyes seemed to pick up on the smallest of changes in him.

"I don't work in pairs," he drawled without even looking up, making anger flare inside his teacher.

"The assignments I give out are not optional, as I'm sure you've realized by now," he said, calm and collected and as cold as he could make himself be. The only thing he let his voice show was the uninhibited power.

"And I'll do it in time. But I'll do it alone. I don't want any of these public school excuses for students affect the grade I'm sure I'll get for completing this ridiculous assignment," he said mockingly and the rest of the students in his class started frowning and glaring and huffing in preparation for a fight.

But Danai just raised his hand at them and turned to the sub who stared straight into his eyes in obvious disrespect and Danai felt an idea strike. He was a professional. And he was trained to deal with spoiled brats, he didn't need to sink to Brad's level and give him the fight he wanted. The sub was determined to undermine his authority by making him lose his control and Danai wasn't about to let him get his own way in this. It was time for the cycle to stop, Brad needed to learn the hard lesson of respect.

"You think you're smarter than anyone else in this classroom?" he asked politely, as if it wasn't a challenge, as if he were merely interested in the answer.

"I know I am." Brad crossed his arms on his chest, unapologetic in his rudeness and it only solidified Danai's determination to punish him somehow.

"Well then there is no point in wasting such a good assignment on lowly public school students. Guys, you get a homework free weekend. Enjoy it."

The bell rang but the stunned silence in the room glued everyone to their seats as they waited for an explanation. They knew their teacher thought more of them. They knew his words had a deeper meaning than insulting them. They just couldn't quite understand what it was.

"Class dismissed. Make sure you hand your paper slips to Mr. Robson as you head out. As he has politely informed us, he is the smartest person here so he'll have no problems completing all of your assignments. With the same deadline of course. Have a good day," he said with a soft smile and turned away from his students who finally caught on to what he was doing and started shuffling out, depositing their notes onto Brad's desk in silence as they walked out.

Danai erased the blackboard in the intermittent silence, desperately aware of Brad's presence behind him.

"Is this your idea of a punishment?"

The sneer made him turn back around and he shook his head at how exhausting the younger man was. And how exhausting it must have been for him to keep up the pretense of not needing what every other sub needed. Hell, half the reason he acted out so much was because he didn't have that steady Dominant presence in his life. He'd spent so long at Dalton fighting for Dominant attention from ones that weren't available or interested and now he was fighting tooth and nail against one that was trying to give him what he obviously craved deep down.

Danai knew he was in a tricky situation ethics wise.

It wasn't illegal for a teacher to claim and bond to a student if they were over the age of consent, it had to be a serious claim however, with the intent to bond instead of just casually hook up. Still, some states still frowned upon the practice, the abuse of power and authority even though the Dominant would always be in that position with their sub. That was the exact reason the Validators allowed serious claims and bonds, they had to be declared immediately however. No secret romantic trysts were permitted at risk of his job.

Not that he had been planning that… not that Brad would allow himself right now.

"I don't punish cleverness, Mr. Robson. I nurture it. This is your chance to prove us all you're above us. Isn't that what you wanted?" he asked, getting his head back into the room instead of dwelling on what if's and could be's, as he put his papers in a stack, relaxed and poised and seemingly completely undisturbed by the young sub.

"There are 10 essays here, and each needs to be 2 pages long at least," he said and his voice showed just a tiny hint of panic.

The tone tickled his insincts so much that Danai wanted to grab him and wrap him in his arms and erase every bad thought. But the sub in front of him needed discipline, strength larger than his desire to pamper or take care of if Brad was to ever exist in tune with his nature. He need to reinforce that bad behavior incurred punishment, not rewards.

Tough love, he reminded himself.

"Imagine what you'd be given in a private school, measly public school assignments should be a breeze for you, right? You have one week. My consultation hours are every morning between 7 and eight, if you need anything," he said even toned, gathering his books and with a final nod towards the perplexed sub he walked out of the classroom.

A week later there was a perfect 10 part essay on his desk. And if Danai thought it was a small victory for him, maybe a breakthrough, he was sorely mistaken.

The young teacher stood up, feeling too pent up to sit still any longer, and walked across his small apartment. There was a narrow shelf next to his bookcase that held a few bottles of whiskey, his drink of choice when he could afford it. He poured himself a few sips into a glass and leaned with his back against the wall, eyes directly in line with his window looking down at the empty street.

The color of the dusk reminded him of Brad's eyes, ablaze with anger the last time they saw each other and his insides went cold. Everything he had done was for nothing, the failure of it feeling like knives in his gut. Not only did he fail to help him, the worst of it selfishly was Brad wasn't his. Never would be and he felt like the worse kind of fool. He had been so sure he was making progress, so sure, and then he had been blindsided from nowhere.

And really he couldn't help but think it was his own fault for taking so long to make a move even with all the hints Brad was dropping lately. Hints of there being another Dom. A better Dom. Someone who suited him more than a strict, goody two shoes teacher from Lima.

"Turn in your papers as you leave, please," Danai said as the bell signaled the end of his class and his students filed one by one, handing him their homework as they walked out.

All but one.

Brad collected his stuff into his bag and started towards the door, head held high and his paper nowhere in sight.

"Mr. Robson?" Danai called after him and the little brat turned with a condescending smirk at the ready on his lips.

"Yes?" he answered, fake honey laced into his tone, revealing just how incredibly rude he was.

Danai let his disobedience slide because he felt like the constant provocations from Brad would be best to be ignored. Brad got nothing out of it if he didn't give him the reaction he wanted. "Your homework?"

"Oh… I didn't do it. See… after that mile long essay I believe I proved just how much above everyone here I am. So I don't see it necessary to waste my time on your silly little attempts to be a teacher," he said pleasantly, like he was delivering the sweetest of compliments.

Danai could tell he was hoping for an outbreak of rage and he was determined not to let it show even though his desire to take Brad over his knee strengthened every time they interacted.

"While that does make a certain amount of sense, it's still me who calls the shots in this classroom so take a seat. You'll be joining me for detention today and every other day for the rest of this week," he said, settling into his chair. The Dom inside him was torn between the need to soothe the distress his words caused the sub and the primal satisfaction he felt when he was obeyed by the one he believed belonged to him.

Brad slammed his bag down and slumped into the seat, glaring at the wall in silent stubbornness. His body posture was closed off and defiant but the Dom in Danai sensed his distress, felt the way the submissiveness in Brad wanted to bow to someone's will. His will. The way it cried out for a speck of attention, the way it forced him to act out because it's the only way he could get it while Brad kept such a tight rein on his real desires.

Despite all of his bravado and lashing out he was still a young, inadequately handled sub and Danai just wanted to show him that obeying the right Dom could help him settle into his skin. Could take all that need for attention and funnel it properly, make him feel he didn't need to misbehave to get someone to look at him and pay attention.

He had to try.

"Brad…" he chanced calling him by his first name and it startled the sub into looking him in the eye. "I know it's not easy for you... being here where you don't really fit in and you don't know anyone. And I know you want to show us all you're better than us but… maybe you'd be happier if you tried to get along with some of the students? Nobody here is your enemy," he said softly and hope flared in him when he saw a tiny bit of hatred slipping from the subs face.

It was soon crushed by the cynical laugh that left his lips.

"I'm perfectly happy hating this place and everyone in it until I can get out of here, thank you very much," he sneered as the bell rang and he jumped up, running out of the classroom and leaving Danai equally hurt and furious at his behavior.

The feeling didn't go away. It just intensified when the sub failed to show up to their next detention. He was in class, mock politely silent and detached but he didn't come back after his final period which resulted in the blow up they had during the last time they saw each other. Before Brad was gone.

Danai sipped his drink, knuckles white around the glass as he thought back to the moment he knew he had lost the one who was meant for him.

"I'm sure you're not planning on skipping another detention are you?" Danai spoke softly when Brad rounded the corner that led to the exit of the school. All of his books were in his hands and it was more than obvious he had no intention of showing up.

Danai was so tired.

So tired of trying to get through to him that it was getting harder and harder to remain levelheaded and calm. Especially when the sub in front of him, his sub was so defiant and spiteful.

"Why? Did you miss me, Mister Leviev?" Brad drawled as he turned towards him and there was something in his eyes… something that put a stop to the rage rising inside him.

Something vulnerable, timid. Like he actually cared about the answer deep down and it made him ache to protect. God did it. But he wouldn't cave. He wouldn't show how weak Brad made him feel until the sub changed his approach. He couldn't go into any kind of bond with Brad when he felt it was okay to act this way.

"Absolutely. Spending my free time trying to teach a spoiled brat some sense is definitely my favorite pastime," he returned calmly and Brad rolled his eyes, backing away through the door and into the parking lot.

Danai realized he had gone for one of the few cars parked there and unlocked it, dumping his belongings into the back seat.

"Earned your driving privileges back, I see," he commented lightly as he came up behind the sub and made him turn around.

"I can be very persuasive when I want to be," he shrugged and tried to reach the front seat but he found his way blocked by his teacher's bulk. "Would you mind?" he snarled and Danai crossed his arms over his chest, biceps bulging and pride swelling when he realized it had drawn Brad's attention.

"Actually I would. I'm sure I mentioned this already but you have detention. And this time you're not getting away with this so… let's go." He pointed to the entrance of the school, surprised at the laugh that bubbled from the sub.

"Yeah sorry, teach. I have to say it was fun to see how the pathetic side of the society lives but fortunately for me, today is my last day here," he said and Danai startled in shock.

What? Last day? He thought he had heard wrong but the completely pleased smirk on Brad's face said all he needed to know. He got a sinking feeling deep in his stomach, his heart rate picking up pace as it slowly sunk in.

But… they didn't get anywhere, there was no connection he had hoped for. No acceptance from Brad. No improvement in his behavior. In such a short amount of time Danai had gotten used to seeing Brad sneering at him from the front of his classroom. How had he become so dependent on seeing him already?

Maybe he was simply lying? It wouldn't exactly be a stretch to assume that he would to get out of detention and during his phone conversations with Brad's grandparents they hadn't mentioned any transfer back to Dalton.

"It is?" he calmed his voice into his usual stern softness, not giving away a single emotion that threatened to consume him.

"Yes. I'm moving in with my Dom today. We were supposed to wait until the end of the year but see… he's a real Dom, and he gets what he wants. And apparently he can't wait to start his new life with me so… I'm going today," he said, nose high in the air and his cockiness on full display.

But his blood didn't sing the way Danai knew it should. It didn't reveal the thrum of a sub about to be claimed. His eyes were dull instead of blazing with need and his fingers were clenched close to his hips.

Danai was his Dom. And Brad could tell something was off even if he couldn't admit it to himself.

"Are you happy about it?" he asked softly and after a short intake of breath Brad was back in full asshole mode.

"It's all I've ever wanted. He's rich and powerful. Gorgeous. Exactly right for me." Jab after jab pierced Danai's skin and he felt his insides freeze in dread at the thought of that nameless, faceless Dom holding and touching and owning what was rightfully his.

"And school?" he tried to appear aloof and just vaguely interested in the fate of the younger man but he had a feeling his pheromones were suffocating, that his voice was slipping low and dangerous.

"I quite like the thought of being a trophy sub. I have the face for it. You don't need a degree to look pretty hanging off someone's arm in expensive clothes," he smiled as if the mere thought made him ecstatic, but his eyes betrayed the truth.

It was the furthest thing away from what he truly wanted. He was smart, tenacious. He could do whatever he set his mind to and wallowing around looking pretty was hardly stimulating. But the dumb pride Brad hung onto stubbornly prevented him from admitting he saw no way out of the situation he had gotten himself into.

Brad wasn't evil, Danai knew that. He was mean and spoiled and bratty and was given way too many second chances and made all the wrong choices, but he wasn't evil. And he just wanted to show him that under the right guidance he could turn into a decent person again. But he also knew empirically this unknown Dom of his would not provide that guidance and it struck him to the core. To see so much potential wasted in incompetent hands.

Brad was clearly satisfied with the effect his words had left on the teacher and he used the opportunity to slide to the front door. He was about to sit inside when Danai came back into himself, pulling a scrap of paper and a pen from his black slacks and jotting something down.

He handed the slip to Brad through his window and ignored the mocking eye roll the sub gave him as he took it between forefinger and thumb. He saw no heat in it though and at least that was something at the end of it all.

"And this would be… what exactly?" the sub inquired snobbishly, the paper crumbling in his fingers.

"My address. In case you ever need it," Danai said softly and he could almost see the shiver that went through the sub as he heard it, but years of practice taught him not to let it show so he grimaced and let the paper slip to the floor of his car, careless and disrespectful again.

"And what the hell would be a reason for me to need that?" he sneered and Danai chanced a small smile in his direction even though inside everything hurt.

Hell, that paper was like his last lifeline to Brad. His last chance saloon that maybe a miracle would happen and he'd rethink this whole thing. Seeing him tossing it aside so easily made Danai angry and desolate, the two emotions cancelling each other out to leave him strangely numb.

"None whatsoever. Just… in case. Good luck, Brad."

And with that he turned and left the most infuriating person he had ever met, that just so happened to be the other part of his soul.

Danai blinked back into focus and swallowed hard, palm rubbing along his chest to sooth the phantom ache he felt there. He felt really close to chugging half the bottle of whiskey at once and passing out to forget that morning. He couldn't even remember the last time he had felt so on edge, so ready to just give up trying to make a difference for everyone else when his own life was in ruins.

And that pissed him off; that he was acting so selfishly, drowning himself in self-pity. But then he'd remember that aching feeling again, like someone had carved out his chest with a rusty spoon, and the cycle started all over again.

His parents gave up on him a long time ago, taking his entire family away with them. He hadn't been to his home country in so long he wasn't sure he'd be able to find his way around, and his longest relationship ended up being a dead end with the two of them realizing they worked better as friends. His job was his only escape and even that was such a string of problems and struggles that he didn't even know where to draw strength to do it from.

And now this.

He had found the man he knew deep down was his. And he was the most infuriating, disobedient, self-centered brat he had ever met. He challenged and undermined him at every turn, pushed him to limits he wasn't even aware he had and was generally spiteful towards everyone, especially him. But his body ached in a way he was helpless to ignore, his soul had latched onto him from the very first and there was no going back now. For better or worse Danai had found his match.

He tightened his fingers around the empty glass in his hand, hearing a faint cracking sound as the glass fought not to give way to the pressure and fissures formed all along its surface. He felt like that… squeezed so tightly, cracks all along his surface making him feel weak, like one more blow would be the one to shatter him.

Someone else was touching him now. Someone else got to kiss him and hold him and got to spend time with him. And he was sure Brad was pliant with them, he responded well to money and status after all. Almost pleasantly. Something Danai might have been able to offer him had he stayed on the career path his parents set out of him.

He couldn't help but torture himself with the what if's. What if he hadn't rebelled against his parents plan? He might have met Brad at a fancy gala he would surely be obligated to attend and he might have gotten the chance to talk to his grandparents about claiming him. He might have even attended a Showing, he would have been sitting there while Brad was up on stage showing off a talent.

They could have been happy together. Brad could have learned to be respectful and kinder than he was now. He could have been loved and encouraged to reach for more for himself instead of paraded around like an accessory.

But being a, "trophy sub" was what he wanted, right?

It was the only comfort Danai tried to take. Brad had gotten what he had convinced himself he wanted. His eyes betrayed his emotions but his words were sure and the Dom choose to cling to them for consolation.

His sub was happy and that was what should hold him from falling apart.

Shaking his head he released his death grip on the glass and set it on the shelf next to the bottle. He ran a hand over his buzzed off hair and decided to just try and get some sleep. Getting wrecked wasn't going to get rid of this feeling eating him up so maybe he could forget it for a little while in dreams of happier circumstances.

He stepped back into the kitchen to turn off the lights when a panicked knock reverberated through his apartment. Four, five, six achingly loud slams against the wood that had him immediately frowning and tensing up. He hurried towards the entrance, practically ripping it off its hinges in his haste to get it opened.

The next breath he took felt like it was punched right out of his lungs as he took in the sight in front of him. Right there, in front of his doors… was Brad.

Sandy hair drenched in sweat, wearing only a thin t shirt despite the relatively chilly night. The short sleeves left his arms exposed and rage flared inside the Dom as he took in a neat row of thin red lines just below his elbow. They were completely parallel, all the same length and obviously fresh if the steady trickle of blood was anything to go by. Perfect destruction like that couldn't have been an accident.

Someone had hurt him with intent.

Brad was almost quaking in his shoes but his head was held high and his eyes were as guarded as ever, still prideful and stubborn to the last and it infuriated Danai. His dominant instincts surged and compelled him to just rip the answers from his lips and then set off to murder whoever did this to his sub. He'd never felt closer to losing his shit, to really sinking into Dom space, but he knew he couldn't if he wanted Brad to stick around. Years of practicing reining all that power in made him able to walk the knife edge. Made him able to listen to his mind instead of the most primal part of himself first.

He knew Brad needed him to be there right now whether he was going to admit it or not. Not to go and fight wars in his honor.

"Brad?" he prompted gently and the sub looked up, grey blue eyes shuttered from under wet lashes, the red around them speaking volumes, telling Danai everything he knew Brad wouldn't say.

He wasn't okay. Not at all.

"You said… in case… were you lying?" he said from between clenched teeth like he was trying to prevent the words from coming out as anything but even and sure.

He was holding a crumpled piece of paper in his hand, a spot of blood staining it now and Danai recognized his handwriting on it, knowing exactly what it was. His eyes fell back to the blood though, the sight turning his stomach and stoking the fire burning within him.

It jump started the Dom into action, his instincts flaring to make him feel safe again.

"I've never lied to you and I meant it. Come on in," he said honestly and stepped aside, skin breaking out in goose-bumps when the sub brushed past him. He was so attuned to him, so hyperaware that he heard the almost silent sigh of relief the sub breathed out when the door closed behind them and the sound of the key turning in the lock clicked in the ensuing silence.

Danai was at a loss for once as he turned to face him.

Push too far he'll pull back, maybe leave. Push too little and he'd be leaving him to hurt. Danai blew out a breath to calm himself and assess the situation somewhat rationally. He was never going to manage objective but maybe he could try and regain a few of his faculties before he made a mess of this.

He looked Brad up and down; the sub had his back facing him in the middle of his living room with his body tensed like a rabbit ready to bolt. He risked stepping closer, his bare feet silent on the wooden flooring as he closed the space between them.

"What can I do for you?" he asked softly and the sub jumped lightly, an unmistakable flinch he couldn't hide.

"Probably not a lot," Brad snapped out like a reflex, a desperate diversion to cover his mistake.

"And yet, here you are," he prodded, not taking the bait.

Brad just stared at him, the muscles in his jaw working just beneath his skin like he was biting down painfully on everything that was fighting to get out of his mouth.

"What happened, Brad?" he asked seriously, eyes intent and Brad refused to hold his gaze.

"I… I just need to use the bathroom," he said, arms tightening around himself like he was trying to hide the damage on his arm. He was shaking all over, face a mask of pain when the cuts rubbed against fabric.

Danai wasn't going to indulge him in playing along.

"Those need to be cleaned. Sit there and I'll get the first aid kit," he ordered firm but gently and watched in relief as, after a moment of tension filled hesitation, the sub's body uncoiled just a tiny bit as he followed the simple instruction and sat stiffly on the very edge of the three year old couch.

He needed to tread carefully. Brad was obviously hurt and scared and while he knew he would never admit it he needed someone to take care of him. And who better for the job but his Dom? His real Dom.

He headed to the bathroom and found the small first aid box he had under the counter. The thing had never been used so he unwrapped it and pulled out the disinfectant, cotton wool, some bandages and medical tape.

On his way out of the bathroom he spotted his hoodie hanging half off the end of his bed and picked it up, remembering how cold Brad's skin had been as he walked by him. He might not accept the offer but that wouldn't stop him from making it, maybe even ordering it if he felt it was necessary.

He came back to the living room, finding the sub curled up in the corner of the couch and staring at the far wall with a blank expression on his face. As if he wasn't really there. Danai tried making some noise as he approached, desperate not to scare him further or startle him again. He made a wide arc around the couch to make sure he could see him before he sat down next to him carefully and put the first aid supplies on the low coffee table.

"Brad?" he called softly and the sub stiffened, unfolding his legs and returning to upright position like he had just been caught doing the worst thing.

It made Danai shake. He didn't even know what the action made him feel. Anger that Brad had been put in this position at all? Pity that he didn't seem to know it was okay to let himself be vulnerable? Wonder that he was still the most beautiful thing to him even now? That he looked so right sitting there amongst Danai's personal belongings.

He stared at Brad staring at the first aid stuff like he didn't even know what it was and felt his heart clench.

"Can I clean your cuts?" he asked and it felt like Brad had completely forgotten where he was or that his arm was hurt. He looked down and his face frowned when he took in the state of his arm. "Brad," he prompted again and the sub eyed him suspiciously.

"I can do it," he said, his voice barely audible.

"I don't think that's a good idea-"

"I don't need your help!" Brad hissed out louder this time, snatching up the disinfectant and fumbling to open it up with shaky fingers. Danai watched in silence as Brad got increasingly more distressed trying to open the lid, face blanching when he used his bad arm to help.

It was torture to watch him but Danai felt like Brad needed this, this small ounce of venting until he wore himself out. Which was pitifully fast. He watched the realization that he couldn't in fact do this himself cross Brad's face and then he was catching Brad's good arm as it rose to send the bottle flying across the room in a fit of rage and helplessness.

Their eyes met a second after their skin did and Danai used his free hand to pry the bottle out of the subs death grip, never breaking that gaze once. The static in the air was charged as they simply breathed in the quiet and locked eyes in a silent battle of wills.

"You can hate me all you like, you can call me every name under the sun but I'm going to help you sort this out right now because you need it," Danai told him unequivocally in a low voice, leaving no room for arguments.

He let go of that soft skin reluctantly and twisted the cap off the disinfectant with little trouble. He didn't make a big deal about it, didn't brag or give Brad a look to say; see. This wasn't about putting Brad down, it may have been teaching him a lesson as well but he was mainly concerned about his wellbeing. He felt Brad tense like he was expecting some sort of reaction, but he simply moved on to grabbing the cotton wool, pushing the table forward a little and kneeling on the floor in front of him.

A submissive pose that Brad didn't miss.

His forehead creased into a frown and his chest hitched as he looked him over like he was trying to work out if it was real.

"Give me your arm," Danai placed another soft order and reveled in the feeling he got when Brad complied without a single question since his mind was occupied already.

Long fingers were balled into a fist in front of his chest and the Dom just wanted to unwrap them and kiss each fingertip until the pain went away. He locked down the urge however and focused. He dabbed a cotton ball into the disinfectant and cupped Brad's wrist with his spare hand before he dragged it carefully across the cuts, five of them, red, angry and bleeding. Brad hissed when the medicine touched the open wounds, his arm jumping in his grip.

"Shit," Brad helplessly whimpered, guards slipping as Danai pressed deeper to make sure he was getting it all. "Burns," he choked out, curling up over himself since Danai wouldn't give his arm back and Danai's heart broke for him. For the first time since he had met him Brad looked truly fragile in this moment. Breakable. Small.

"I'm sorry," he apologized quietly, but didn't let up.

"Fuck your sorry," Brad gritted without any heat as his free hand came up to splay over his face, a sort of shield against everything his face was revealing.

"You know that essay you wrote on The Giver was one of the more interesting things I've read in a while. You have a unique perspective on things," Danai offered as he continued to work around the edges of the cuts and Brad hissed again. He'd never told him, and what he'd written on the paper itself had gone straight in the garbage once Brad had gotten it back. Another act of defiance on his part.

"You expected me to be stupid," Brad accused between gritted teeth, eyes still closed and face still hidden. Danai could recognize the veiled hurt there though without seeing it.

"No. I know you're very bright," Danai corrected calmly and put the cotton wool down to take up the bandages. When he turned back around he found that Brad was looking straight at him, lips parted like he was surprised at the compliment before he shook himself out of it and averted his eyes.

"Are you just going to sit there or finish this?" he snarked quietly and Danai once again, ignored his immediate reaction to reprimand him.

He talked as he worked, about whatever came to mind, students, the papers he had to grade, a really stupid reality TV show he saw the other day. He knew none of his words really registered with the sub, but if his education was anything to go by, the sound of his voice should help.

Minutes later he had his arm cleaned and wrapped up tightly and he found himself rubbing his thumb over the medical tape he'd just secured in place over and over. It was almost hypnotic, addicting, to finally touch and the way Brad reacted was intoxicating.

The sub was swaying in his seat slightly and he seemed to lean closer and closer to Danai's body. Looking for comfort and warmth no doubt without actively seeking it consciously and the Dom wished with a fervor that burned to be able to give it to him, if only the stubborn sub would accept the offer.

"What happened to you?" Danai asked slowly and the moment he did he knew it was a mistake.

The vulnerability Brad was showing vanished completely and the snotty brat he grew to care about more and more each frustrating day despite himself was back full force as he pulled his arm away and stood up, forcing Danai back to give him room.

"What's it to you? You said I could come here in case I needed it, not that I had to suffer through a cross examination," he bit out and Danai closed his eyes in exhaustion.

Sometimes he truly wondered whether or not his perseverance was a match for Brad's stubbornness. They were running in endless circles all the time, dancing in worn patterns that got them nowhere and the day had already been so draining he just couldn't take it anymore. Brad wasn't going to give anything up voluntarily and Danai refused to force it out of him, so they were stuck in this anxious bubble of unknowing hurt.

Tough love, he reminded himself as he battled against the need to just let Brad have it his way if it meant having him in his arms.

He stood up and lifted the hoodie, holding it out to the sub.

"Wear this. So you don't freeze when you head out," he said and turned away, his entire body rebelling at what he was doing. It went completely against his nature, against his need to protect, but he knew he had to. He had to find a way to get through to the stubborn sub.

"What?" Brad's voice actually cracked in surprise and panic, his feet following Danai against his will. "You said...you said I could-" He cut himself off and turned back as his resolve broke at the sound of fear in his voice.

Danai looked over his shoulder to find Brad clutching his hoodie to his chest as if it were a lifeline. The raw fear the sub felt at being anywhere but right here, the place he had come in his most scared and vulnerable moment out of everywhere he knew, was written all over him.

"You said in case I needed y… it…" He fell silent as he stared at the Dom, eyes begging not to be sent away when he was so broken, but mouth still as vicious and barbed as ever. "Out of everything you are, I thought a liar wasn't one of them at least."

"I'm not a liar. I know what I said and I meant every word. But if you're not going to tell me what happened or let me help you then there's nothing more I can do for you," he said calmly, turning around fully and crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Brad look down at the carpet to avoid his gaze. "I need to know what happened, Brad. Should I call the police? Do your grandparents know where you are? Where is your Dom?" he rattled out the questions and as the last one was spoken Brad shrunk away and began trembling again, confirming exactly what he feared the most.

The bastard did it to him. The one who was supposed to keep him safe and nurtured hurt him and he saw shades of red. His fingers clenched into fists and he knew the vein on his neck popped out, he could feel the tension there.

He also knew it made him look extremely threatening and scary.

Brad obviously thought so if the way he backed away from him was any indication. It was only a few steps, enough to get the couch in between them, but that was enough. If there was any doubt in Danai's mind that the hard core badboy thing was more than just skin deep this erased it.

Someone who truly didn't give a shit didn't react like this. Didn't have to fight so hard to keep up the act, because that's what it was. Years in the making and so routine now it was almost perfect, but an act all the same.

Danai closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down before he addressed the sub again.

"You don't need to be scared of me. I'd never hurt you," he said and Brad huffed through his fear, trying to brazen it out.

"I'm not scared," he said defensively and Danai knew better than to push. He didn't need that right now. He needed security, and guidance.

"Okay. Put the hoodie on. It's chilly in here too. I never have the heating set up high, reminds me of back home," he found himself revealing needlessly and fought back a smile when his large hoodie fell past the sub's thighs despite him being tall.

"You can sleep here tonight if you want," he offered and Brad recoiled slightly, looking at him in assessment.

"In your bed I assume?" he sneered and while it may have sounded like a provocation Danai knew better. It was fear. Of being forced to do something he didn't want.

"Sure if you want. I can take the couch. There's a spare toothbrush in the cabinet under the sink for you in the bathroom and you can take whatever you want to sleep in from the top drawer of my dresser. Go get ready and get some rest," he said, trying to appear completely calm and collected when the sub went to his room, while on the inside he was desperate to stay close to him, to protect him.

He waited a few minutes, puttering around his living room and double checking locks, trying to give the sub some time to find his way around the room and his bathroom before going in to check on him.

But when he padded closer to the bedroom doorway there was no sound of water, or drawers opening. Just silent sniffs and the rustling of the covers. Frowning in concern he walked into his room and he was arrested at the sight in front of him. So much so it felt like someone had reached into his chest and squeezed.

Brad was still in his clothes, the only exception being his shoes, curled up around one of his pillows and shaking like a leaf as silent tears trekked down his pale cheeks. The sub had crashed well and truly. No more fighting it out, scratching with tooth and nail to pretend he was okay.

Someone had hurt him and he was only now letting himself truly feel it.

There was nothing Danai could do to stop himself anymore, his sub was scared out of his mind and his dominance flared in need to protect him as best as he could. He walked to the end of the bed and sat down, then, as gently as he possibly could, reached out and cupped his hand around Brad's ankle. Directly on the thin strip of skin visible between his jeans and start of his socks. No sudden movements, no force. Just a Dom trying to give his sub what he needed in a way his sub could accept.

And it seemed that in this moment of weakness, Brad's walls came down as he didn't kick him away or shake him off. He simple whimpered and allowed the contact, his pheromones telling Danai that he very much needed it.

"You're going to be okay, Brad. I'm going to make sure of it," he found himself reassuring him.

"Why would you do that? You don't even like me," Brad choked out harshly, voice heavy with his tears. "I don't want your sympathy."

"Trust me, what I feel for you is not sympathy," Danai found himself admitting, thumb circling the delicate whorl of bone of his ankle. "And I've never said I didn't like you."

Waterlogged eyes met his in the darkness.

"It's okay to need someone, Brad. To need them to help you. No matter who that person is, as long as they have your best interests at heart that's all that matters," he continued to say quietly and he watched as Brad's face literally crumpled at his words and sobs wracked his curled up frame violently.

Danai cooed at him soothingly, throwing the last of the rulebook out the window as he crawled onto the bed properly and sat next to him. He coaxed Brad to turn over to face him and the sub let himself be pulled, discarding the pillow in favour of burying his face in the outside of Danai's thigh instead, cradling his injured arm to his chest.

The sub kept whispering something over and over and it wasn't until Danai cradled the back of his head and ducked down a little that he finally understood.

"Don't want him… don't want him…" he was chanting and Danai couldn't resist hooking his other arm over and holding him closer, doing his best to make him feel secure. Like that unknown Dominant couldn't touch him anymore as long as he was here… and it was true. Danai didn't think he could realistically let him go after this. He couldn't risk anyone else with what was now the most precious person in his life.

"You don't have to go back there. I promise you don't have to go back," he said softly, carding his fingers through his hair and felt the body in his arms go rigid in anger and fear.

"H-HOW DO Y-YOU KNOW THAT?!" he half hiccupped, half yelled, rearing up and revealing the devastation on his face. "H-how are you gonna s-stop him from coming here and t-taking me away? He has the right to do that! H-he can do whatever he wants to me!" The initial scream went down in volume until he was barely audible as his own words resonated around them and he became aware that it was true.

He could come and take him away. Hurt him again.

Danai gripped his face firmly between his fingers, thumbs digging into the damp apples of his cheeks to make sure he had his full attention.

"You listen to me now, Brad Robson. Nothing on this earth is going to get to you as long as I'm around okay?" Danai said and his voice was so sure, so strong and commanding that Brad forgot to be defiant and snarky for a second as the tears continued to fall from his wide eyes. Danai let go of one of his cheeks and laid it over the bandage on his arm. "Something like this is never going to happen again."

"You can't-"

"I can," Danai cut him off and Brad saw no other option but to believe him wholeheartedly.

Deep down Brad knew there was a reason why he had chosen to come here instead of heading back home after what his new Dom did to him. Deep down he knew why instead of getting ready for bed like he should have, he'd crawled onto the bed that smelled so much like the strong Dom just outside the door and allowed himself to break down. Deep down Brad knew what he'd known from the start, what he'd been fighting from the very moment he walked into Danai Leviev's classroom.

Danai watched the play of emotion across his face patiently.

"I…" Brad swallowed hard, obviously finding what he was about to say difficult in some way. "I need help, Danai," he said and the Dom lost a breath at the way his name fit in his mouth, but what really got his heart racing was the words themselves. "I need you to help me… I… I want you to."

"All you had to do was ask," Danai told him softly, feeling like they'd just broke free of a storm and hit smoother waters. He stroked the back of his hand over Brad's cheek and the sub leaned into it the tiniest increment. "I'm not going anywhere."

"…someone will be there to fight with you against all your fears. Someone will be there to have your back. To make you smile. To build you back up and to make you strong…"

"You never tell me where we're going," Kurt whined from the passenger seat, all dressed up and pretty looking. And yes… it took him an hour and a half.

He'd changed his clothes as well as grabbing his jacket and shoes and was now wearing a low cut blue sweater that showed off his delicate collarbones and his mark spectacularly. The jeans were patterned and tight and his boots were mid-calf length.

Blaine was hard pressed to remember that they had a proper date to go on, not a bedroom date.

Still, Blaine laughed at his subs whiny tone and complete falsehoods as he indicated left. "I do so tell you. Plus we never actually go many places other than school and the studio and your dad's house-"

"And the mall," Kurt chipped in and Blaine shook his head with an amused smile as he took the left turn smoothly.

"You and Jeff go there mainly."

"To buy you pretty things," Kurt grinned. "And we don't go that often."

Blaine let out a loud disbelieving sound that had Kurt scowling at him playfully. "C'mon, lovely. Three times a week is a little excessive, no?"

Kurt merely raised a brow at him that said it all and Blaine looked back towards the road. "Fair enough. And for the record, I much prefer it when you buy yourself pretty things."

"Well maybe buying me pretty things is really buying you pretty things too?" Kurt said slyly and Blaine groaned as his mind went immediately to all his favorite pieces of clothing on his beautiful boy. How they hugged or accentuated his favorite parts of him or brought out his eyes or skin.

"Don't tease you naughty sub," he faux growled and Kurt tilted his head innocently. The little minx.

"I just like taking care of you, sir," Kurt carried on in the same tone and Blaine gave him a dark eyed look that had him shivering in his seat.

"I love you taking care of me, baby. I just like taking care of you more," he said, the heavy edge of sexual tension waning in the wake of his sincere admission.

"I know," Kurt said softly and Blaine gave him a softer, loving smile before he pulled up to their destination.

"Are we here?" Kurt squeaked excitedly and pressed himself against the window only to rear backwards at the flashes of light that suddenly exploded in front of his face. There was banging on the glass next, photographers and reporters alike swarming in from nowhere, all clamoring to be heard and pushing each other for space.

"Kurt, how is your father feeling about the debate tomorrow?"

"Blaine, how does your mother feel about being replaced by someone with no experience at all?"

"Is it true that Dana has been funding the whole campaign? Is she just using Burt as a figurehead to make sure she keeps power?"

"Is this whole campaign just another publicity stunt to raise the Anderson's profile?"

"Kurt! Blaine! How was the honeymoon period? What toys did you use?"

With every invasive question Kurt tensed up more and more, the relaxed boy from a minute ago disappearing in a cloud of smoke and it got Blaine irrationally angry. He should have known something like this would happen. It sharply reminded him of just why they had never been on a proper date before this and the lack of privacy was frustrating as hell. The Anderson's were too high profile to ignore though and now since the Presenting and Burt's campaign for Head, so were the Hummel's.

"Look at me, lovely. Kurt...look at me," he ordered him and Kurt turned with wide eyes, more than slightly intimidated by the chaos that had erupted around them.

"How did they know where we were going to be, Blaine?" he asked, slightly hysterical.

"Someone at the restaurant must have leaked the information when I called them earlier to set tonight up," he guessed, annoyance showing through in his tone of voice. "I should have known it was too much good luck when they were gone from outside the house when we left."

Kurt didn't say anything, only looked increasingly more anxious and forlorn about their ruined plans which just wasn't okay with Blaine. Tonight was supposed to be perfect for him. It was supposed to make him relax and forget about the rest of the world. It was supposed to remind him that he was loved and cherished and safe with Blaine.
And the thought that these strangers took that away from them made him furious.

"Okay here's what we're gonna do. I'm going to go inside and give whoever it was that sold us out a piece of my mind and you're going to stay here, turn up the radio and ignore those vultures outside until I get back," Blaine said firmly and Kurt's heart picked up pace.

"Sir, please don't leave me on my own with them," Kurt practically begged, curling his arms around Blaine's bicep and clinging to him desperately.

Those people on the other side of the glass had made his life hell for the first few months of his initial bond to Blaine after the claim. All the flashing cameras in his face and shouted questions in his ear just like now. All the articles that came of it, the mean rumors and horrible lies they circulated in glossy magazines that he had been collecting once upon a time with the help of a spiteful Brad. And though he had gained far more confidence and stability over his time with Blaine, it didn't change the fact that every experience with these people had been, more often than not, traumatic or negative for him.

He didn't want to be anywhere near them. Sitting here now with them just outside the glass was making his skin crawl.

"I'm going to be right back, lovely. I promise you," Blaine said strong and sure, cupping his face between his palms and making him stare into those bright hazel eyes. "As long as you're in the car they can't do anything to you, okay?"

"But what about you? You're going out there with them," Kurt pressed urgently. The reporters were pushing each other so much that even the car was rocking slightly with the force of their ravenous desire for a story or picture.

"I'll be fine, lovely." He leaned in and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to his lips. "I love you my brave lovely boy."

"I love you too, sir," Kurt echoed, cupping his hands over Blaine's like that would keep him there. It was in vain however because Blaine was pulling away in the next moment, unlocking the driver side door and stepping out. Kurt hastily relocked it behind him and watched in horror as the press all converged on his Dom like flies on food.

Blaine was every bit the commanding Dominant however and forcefully made his way through the crowd. He ignored every microphone and camera that was thrust his way, ducking questions and hands that reached out for him until he was slipping inside the entrance of the restaurant.

Kurt caught a glimpse of a grimacing hostess before the doors shut and the press turned back towards him. The sub hastily checked the locks again and turned up the radio to its highest volume as per Blaine's instructions and sank down in his chair, keeping his eyes studiously on his phone and away from the banging on the window.

"Kurt! Kurt!"

"Is it true that the Anderson's are going bankrupt and that's why they are fighting for equal rights?"

His heart was racing but he didn't want to give them the satisfaction of letting it show and so he tried to keep his face neutral even as the heckling got louder and louder.

"Over here!"

"Kurt!"

"Are you going to be designing your father's suit for the election results?"

He almost looked up at that one, that sliver of decency among the cannibals out to get him, but he held it together and kept his head down, simply scrolling through old messages Blaine had sent him. All the; I love you's and stupid kiss face emoticons that he loved to overuse, the lovely's and good boys that made him warm and fuzzy. It helped to ground him until Blaine had fought his way back through the crowd and into the car ten minutes later.

He was carrying two white bags that ended up on Kurt's lap as Blaine revved the engine and sped away in a screech of tires.

It was only when Blaine had stopped looking in his rearview mirror to see whether or not the reporters were following them that he finally looked over to Kurt who was staring at him with those same wide eyes.

"Are you okay, lovely?" he asked.

Kurt nodded shakily. "Are you?"

"Of course, baby. Knowing you were safe was all I needed," Blaine said, smiling in, what he hoped to be, a reassuring way.

Kurt half smiled but then the frown was back. "I hate that... that they feel they have a right to our lives."

Blaine reached over and held his hand out, palm up and Kurt slipped his fingers between the offered fingers and pulled them to his mouth to kiss.

"Forget about them, baby."

Kurt made a noncommittal hum that made Blaine's heart hurt. The last thing he wanted for Kurt to become… jaded. That he felt like he should just stay in and become complacent with the way things were.

"Are we going home now?" the sub asked subdued.

"Of course not. What do you thinks sitting on your lap, lovely?" Blaine asked him, trying for a bright tone to lighten the mood and Kurt looked down like he hadn't fully registered the bags at all.

"Um… reparations?" he joked weakly and Blaine chuckled.

"Sort of. They did give it to us for free after all that back there, and that big mouthed waiter isn't working anywhere near Westerville ever again," he acknowledged. "But that's our dinner."

"So quickly?" Kurt started unzipping the bag to peek inside curiously.

"I'd already ordered it. We were never going to eat there in the first place," Blaine revealed and Kurt perked up in interest.

"Really? So you were taking me somewhere else the whole time?" he asked, tone brightening at the idea that their night hadn't been wholly ruined after all.

Blaine threw him a winning grin. "Only the best for my beautiful boy."

"But that was the best restaurant in Westerville!" Kurt laughed.

"I'm going to have you eating those words," Blaine promised, chuckling again at Kurt's nosy ruffling through the bags and various containers.

"Blaine! There's a lobster in here!" he said after he opened the last container and Blaine hummed, concentrating on finding the right exit off the street.

"It's staring at me," he heard Kurt's whisper and the trepidation in it broke him out of his mind as he barked a loud laugh at his sub.

"It's cooked, Kurt. I don't think it's staring at anything," he chuckled and Kurt shook his head.

"No… it is looking right into my soul and judging my lobster eating ways. I'm not eating that," he declared, snapping the lid back on and crossing his arms, eyeing the bag like he expected the crustacean to somehow come back to life and mess with his hair.

Blaine was full on laughing right now, barely able to drive.

"Lovely, you had lobster before. You love it," he said, trying to get his sub to see sense.

"I had it when it was all, cleaned and made into those little cakes. Cakes don't have eyes. This one does. And they're mean eyes. I'm just gonna eat the salad and the other stuff in here. You eat the judgmental lobster," he concluded and Blaine wiped the tears from his eyes as he pulled the car into a clearing, completely off the road and secluded from everyone who had no idea it was there.

He shut the engine off and turned to Kurt.

"Okay, sweetie. You eat whatever you want," he complied and Kurt's face turned all victorious and smug. Until he glanced outside.

"Sir…"

"Yes, lovely?" Blaine asked and Kurt turned to him wide eyed and confused.

"Um… we're in the middle of a field," he informed Blaine, as if he had just arrived and had no idea where they were.

"Yeah… I know… look… I wanted us to have an evening to ourselves. Where we could just be us. No press, no stuffy rooms, no need to be all posh and elegant," he explained and a soft smile played on Kurt's lips but he tamed it, just so he could be a little shit.

"And so… a field…" he teased and Blaine stuck out his tongue.

"Shut up. It's romantic. I have blankets and a lamp and pillows. I thought we could make a picnic out of it. Just us. But if you don't like it we can always…" he babbled and Kurt shut him up with a soft kiss to his lips.

"I love it, sir. It's exactly what we both need. Should we set up?" he asked eagerly and Blaine smiled, kissing him once again before they stepped out of the car, Kurt holding the food and Blaine picking his supplies from the trunk.

He spread the blankets underneath a huge tree, arranging the pillows around the trunk so they could lean against it and cuddle. The lamp was hung from a fairly low branch and when he flicked it on it spread a soft, golden hue over their little nest. It was dim enough not to hurt their eyes. Just enough for them to see each other.

It was rather magical.

"Wow… sir, this looks amazing," Kurt whispered, voice low as if he just didn't want to disturb the peacefulness of the place.

"Care to join me then?" Blaine winked as he toed off his shoes and spread out on the blanket, beckoning him closer with outstretched hands.

"Do I have to take my boots off? They round out this outfit so well," he whined and then scowled when Blaine laughed at his petulance. "You have no appreciation for the trouble I go through to look good for you," he mock pouted as he sat down and pulled his boots off, setting them carefully at the edge of the blanket.

"Sure I do. I love your beauty and the effort you put into your outfits. But to me, baby, you look good all the time, rounded out outfit or not." He smiled gently and Kurt leaned into his arms grumpily.

"Compliments will get you everywhere, Anderson," Kurt said.

"Will they get me food? Because I am starving," he answered and Kurt pulled their bags closer using his foot to hook it until it was close enough to grab, taking the containers out one by one and spreading them in front of them.

"They put some plates and cutlery in there as well, I think." Blaine pointed and Kurt pulled the forks and what seemed to be some kind of pliers out, flexing them a few times.

"We can just eat out of these… sort of pick a bit of everything?" Kurt suggested, not bothering to take the plates out.

"Except Lobby?" Blaine teased and Kurt stared at him in shock.

"Lobby?" he asked and Blaine nodded, all puppy like and excited.

"Lobby Earl The Third," he said pointing to the pissed off looking lobster, reclined on a bed of lettuce and lemon slices.

"I'm sorry, you named the monster?" Kurt asked incredulously and Blaine huffed in offence.

"Lobby is not a monster. He's just mad because… we'll he's cooked and about to be eaten. I'm sure that would make everyone a bit grumpy," he reasoned and Kurt couldn't help but throw his head back and laugh when Blaine actually put a comforting hand on the lobster's shell.

"You are clinically insane. Also… why is everything 'the third' with you? Why do you hate other numbers? You… number elitist," Kurt tried to make the insult as offensive as he could but it only caused them both to look at each other for a moment before breaking into giggles and laughing at their own childish behavior for the next five minutes.

When they finally came to, they ate their meal in comfortable silence, taking turns in feeding each other bites of shrimp risotto, octopus salad and grilled calamari in garlic and parsley sauce.

Kurt wouldn't go anywhere near Earl the lobster and he squeaked and hid underneath the second blanket when bits of shell started flying around after Blaine attacked it with the pliers. He reemerged when he was absolutely certain Blaine was done with his lobster massacre and his outfit was safe and sound from flying bits.

They cleaned up the containers into the bags again and wiped their hands on the paper towels before cuddling together against the pillows, Blaine's back propped on the tree and Kurt safely in his embrace.

"Lovely?" Blaine asked after a few moments of quiet enjoyment of each other.

"Yes, sir," Kurt answered, soft and quiet in their little oasis of peace and solitude.

"Remember that game we played on the boat? The one with the cards?" he asked and Kurt hummed to confirm, too relaxed and comfortable to bother with words.

"Well… I brought the cards. I wanted to see if maybe you'd wanna play again? We could see if any of our old answers changed? And answer some new ones we didn't pick last time?" Blaine suggested and Kurt lifted his head up with a bright smile.

"That's an amazing idea, sir. I'd love to," he said and Blaine pecked his lips before pulling the cards out of his blazer pocket, spreading them on the blanket.

"Remember the rules?"

"Pick a card, pick who answers the question, read the question, answer it," Kurt rattled off, already shuffling through the cards and picking one.

"Show off," Blaine mocked and Kurt stuck his tongue out at him in retaliation.

"Okay… you answer this. What is your favorite…" he turned his voice low and seductive, and Blaine couldn't wait to answer it, to mention all the naughty things he liked doing to him. "…brand of cheese?"

Kurt finished with a flourish and Blaine gaped at him, mouth hanging open as Kurt doubled over laughing.

"Your face!" he giggled and Blaine pushed his shoulder, making him thump against the pillows, still laughing.

"Very funny, lovely. How is that a question? Who cares what my favorite brand of cheese is? I don't even like cheese. Any brand," he whined and Kurt chuckled.

"Well there we go. We have our answer. You pick a more interesting one," he said and Blaine nodded, diving into the cards with a purpose, as if he had x-ray vision so he knew which held the interesting questions.

Kurt rolled his eyes after two long minutes of Blaine shuffling left and right through the cards. "Today, Blaine."

"Okay… got one. You answer this. Are you more of a face, or a body type of person?" he asked and it seemed he was happy enough with the question.

"You mean like, what I like in other people?" Kurt asked and Blaine nodded, guessing that was what the question meant.

"Oh um… face. For sure," Kurt answered and Blaine tilted his head.

"Are you saying you don't like my body?" he mock pouted.

"No, Blaine… I'm saying face is what I notice first in someone I find attractive," he said and Blaine beamed.

"You just said I have a pretty face," he declared and Kurt rolled his eyes as he drew another card.

"Yes, sir. That is exactly what I said. Okay… we could both answer this. Where do you see yourself in five years' time?"

"Oh… that is a good one! Wanna go first?" Blaine asked and Kurt shook his head.

"No, you go ahead. I wanna hear your answer."

"Okay um… well…I see us living together someplace nice. Maybe staying in the manor but like, redecorating it after my parents move out or something. They've always said they wanted to leave it to me or Coop and he's not moving from LA anytime soon. The studio would be doing really well and we'd have signed a lot of big names. You are finishing college, and getting a really good job, exactly the one you wanted. Your designs are famous and I stand by you, proud of you, while we celebrate with all our friends. And we… um… yeah… that's it," he finished awkwardly, fiddling with the cuff around his wrist, the 'K' catching the light, and Kurt knew there was something more he wanted to say.

"That's not it… you were gonna say something else too," he encouraged and Blaine smiled, looking almost bashful.

"I… I was gonna say that maybe… we were talking about having kids. But… I don't know if you'd want that and I didn't want to make you uncomfortable by saying it was what I dream of so…"

"You want to have kids with me?" Kurt breathed out and Blaine looked at him.

"Lovely, of course I do. I'm actually really looking forward to it. Our own little family," he smiled and Kurt leaned into his arms on instinct.

"Love you, sir," he whispered softly and Blaine kissed his hair.

"Love you too, beautiful," he answered and Kurt smiled.

"Can that be my answer too? Because that… all of that… sounds absolutely perfect," he said and Blaine smiled against his hair.

"Sure it can. Answer thief," he grumbled and Kurt giggled gesturing towards the cards.

"One more? See if we can get one we had the first time we played?" he asked and Blaine nodded, drawing a card from the pile and deciding they both had to answer it before flipping it and breaking into a huge grin when he saw the question.

"We lucked out. We did have this one. And it remained unanswered back then," he winked and Kurt knew exactly which one it was.

"What's your favorite sexual position?" Blaine read dramatically and if Kurt had any nerves left they just melted at the sight of the goof he called his Dom.

The question went unanswered the first time around because Kurt had never tried anything and had no idea what he might like or dislike. Now… after everything they tried together, he knew exactly what his favorite thing in the world was. But he was still blushing madly when he had to actually voice it.

"Um…it's…"

"Lovely, you're still not obligated to answer it," Blaine reassured him and Kurt smiled.

"I know… but… my favorite thing is kind of… vanilla I guess and I don't wanna seem boring," he explained his trepidation and Blaine cupped his cheek.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better my favorite is the missionary. Because looking at your face when you come is the most amazing thing I have ever seen. Does that seem vanilla to you?" he asked and Kurt blushed, ducking his head.

"I thought it would be something more… out there I guess…" he said and Blaine nodded.

"My kinks have nothing to do with my favorite position. Yes I love having you blindfolded, I love having you tied up and everything else we've tried. But when it comes to picking my favorite… holding you and looking into your eyes is it," he said and Kurt smiled.

"I like… when you take me from… from behind but like… when we're lying on the side. Your chest against my back with your arms around me. Makes me feel so safe," he said and Blaine cupped his cheek, bringing their lips together.

"I love that too," he said when they pulled back and then smiled softly. "One more answer hasn't changed, you know."

"Really? What's that?" Kurt asked.

"My prized possession. The most valuable thing I have. It's still you, lovely. Always you," Blaine said passionately and Kurt pulled him down on top of the pillows, curling into his arms as they kissed gently, neither of them feeling the need to make things sexual.

Just loving each other as the stars around them twinkled and the soft glow of the lamp cast playful shadows on their skin.

"And I have to say…Through everything that happened during this election. I had the best support system in the world. I messed up sometimes, I did amazingly other times. And I was never ashamed or afraid of either. Not afraid to fail and admit I needed help, not afraid to triumph and show my strength…"

"Oh god it's starting!" Kurt squealed and squeezed Blaine's hand close to his chest in anxiety as the dramatic introduction music filled the silence.

They were seated in the front row of a huge auditorium, the plush, beige, velvet seats doing nothing to make Kurt more comfortable. Around them, their friends and allies were chattering excitedly, wondering how the event would go.

All except Dana who was backstage, supporting Burt and giving him some last instructions. The televised interview that had dropped him vital points in the preliminary round had shaken him for public speaking amongst the higher class. Burt wasn't used to the way questions were worded to specifically trip you up. He wasn't used to being tactful or omitting anything and so he blundered trying to think of the 'correct' way to word something.

Dana had been working with him since then to try and get him ready, they'd relaxed their approach which in turn made Burt more relaxed. People responded to Burt's straightforward honesty and so that was their new strategy. After all, that was who Burt was and the voters should know what they were getting.

She had confidence in him, in their cause.

Jared was seated next to Kurt, joined by Nick, Jeff, Carole and Finn and followed by all their closest friends and family. Behind them were sat the rest of the people who supported Burt and Kurt was pleased to see that there were lots of them. People he had never seen before, but who clearly saw promise in his father and decided to stand behind him and his cause.

He looked to the opposite side of the auditorium and the evil part of him couldn't help but smirk at the sight of the group of Richard's supporters. There were less of them. Not by much, and barely noticeable, but still less.

He turned back up to the front to see images of Burt and Richard flashing on the big screen that was set under the stage, his dad almost unrecognizable in fitted suits and with his arms crossed over his chest as he stood tall, proud and in charge.

He looked like someone who would run the Circle with an iron hand but his eyes betrayed him. They were warm and kind and friendly. They were the eyes of the man who had raised him to be the person he was, and Kurt was rather proud of that person. His dad was the person that kissed his boo-boos and told him bed time stories and scared the monsters from under his bed away. And now he was about to fight against other kinds of monsters and Kurt just wanted him to be just as good at that as he was at keeping him safe.

Opposite him, Richard looked more like he belonged there on that stage, more like the future Head, but… Kurt didn't trust him. His face was hard and unforgiving and while he did smile on some of the photos, the smile never went past his lips. His eyes remained ice cold and it was unnerving.

The intro music faded away, the images of the two candidates were replaced by the red and blue letters saying "Head Election Debate" (and he could hear David pouting from the row behind him at how they clearly missed the opportunity to call the event "Butting Heads") as a perky, skippy host in a suit came rushing on the stage.

He was young and extremely enthusiastic for someone who was about to read questions about politics. His smile looked more like he belonged in a children's show than something as serious as this, but as he stepped further into the light it became obvious that it wasn't one of those warm smiles. It was cunning, calculated and almost devious. Almost like he knew the questions before he even opened the envelope in his hands and liked what they were likely to cause.

He was about to say that to Blaine when the host produced a microphone, seemingly from thin air and started speaking.

"Good evening ladies and gentleman and welcome to this year's Head Election Debate. My name is Jackson Green and I'll be your host for this evening. Before we explain the rules let's bring out our candidates," he said joyfully and the crowd cheered as Burt and Richard stepped onto the stage and took their places behind their respective lecterns that held pictures of them and their slogans.

"To your right. Richard Decroux. He's been involved in politics since he was very young, following his father to debates, elections and charity events, before deciding to try running for the Head. This is his third time running and every time he has been rather successful, entering the second round of elections. His Program is focusing on keeping the societies traditional values, while at the same time encouraging startup businesses and companies of young people fresh out of college. Give him a warm applause," the host rattled off one of the cue cards he pulled from his inner jacket pocket, and the right side of the auditorium erupted in a loud, boasting applause.

Kurt noticed, in satisfaction, that both Burt and his supporters were also clapping politely, showing class and dignity.

"To your left we have this year's biggest surprise. Burt Hummel. Burt is a repair man from Lima who hasn't had any experience in politics so far, but it's quite obvious he knows his way around it even with the shaky start in the first round that nearly saw him out of the running altogether. His Program is a revolutionary one. He vows to do everything in his power to level up the field between social classes, while focusing on providing better educational and Bond registration opportunities for young people from all walks of life. Put your hands together," Jackson introduced Burt and the auditorium nearly combusted with the strength of the cheers and support Burt got from his side of the room.

But while Richard clapped politely, his supporters didn't even raised a hand in acknowledgement of his opponent. It was petty and childish and Kurt rolled his eyes at such behavior. Money didn't make a man. They had proven as much in the span of two minutes.

If nothing else the moral victory was all theirs.

"Okay. Now onto the rules. In this envelope," He pulled it out of a different pocket and flourished it. "I have the questions that were sent in by journalists, other politicians, politics experts and various other people. We will go through them and then answer the questions from the audience. Please remain as polite and respectful as you can when asking questions. Candidates, wait for your turn to answer the question and try not to interrupt your opponent. Any questions?" he listed the rules and nodded when the two men confirmed they understood what was expected of them.

"Let's begin then!" he said with a smile and tore the top of the envelope off, pulling out a sheet of paper with questions on it.

"Candidate Decroux, the first question is for you. You've been running for the position of Head for a few years now. Each time you get close but you haven't won thus far. Why do you think that is and why has this not deterred you from running for the consecutive years you have?" he read of the paper and turned to look at Richard who looked oddly pleased with the question.

"I have been taught from an early age that giving up is not an option. I think I can offer a lot to our community and it's for that reason most of all, I refuse to give up. As long as my ideas are fresh, and I believe they are, I'll keep trying. As for why I wasn't elected so far… I had respectful opponents and I believe there is no shame coming second to someone as powerful as Dom Anderson," Richard said diplomatically and the crowd on his side cheered in approval.

"A fine answer. Candidate Hummel… as a newcomer to the political scene, what are your thoughts on the work of the previous leaders of the Westerville Circle?" Jackson read in a very dramatic voice and Kurt rolled his eyes at his antics as he fretted for his father. The question put him in an awkward position since he was asked to critique the work of his biggest supporter.

"I believe the leaders so far have done the best they could. The Westerville Circle just wasn't in the right mindset to make the changes we're trying to do now. We had to wait for the critical mass to form so we could try and stir things around. Now that we can, I have to give credit to those who came before and who had set up a solid groundwork for what we want to accomplish," Burt said and Kurt's heart almost burst with pride.

That was his dad.

His simple, Mellencamp listening, plaid wearing, car fixing dad. And he was so amazing up there. So diplomatic and classy there was absolutely no difference between him and Richard. They truly were equals now.

"Thank you, Mr. Hummel. Now, Mr. Decroux. Being in this line of work for a long time you must be aware of its shortcomings. What do you think you could improve and how?"

"It's a difficult question. Every Board we have had so far has done some really great things, but also they made some mistakes naturally. You cannot hope for complete perfection, not everything goes according to plan or follows the numbers on a spreadsheet or graph. I believe, and I have centered my Program around it, is that young people should be more involved from early on. Not just by stepping into their parent's shoes but by making their own path from the get go," he said and while it sounded like a good answer he didn't really say anything of importance and Kurt cocked his head to the side.

"Candidate Hummel, this question demands your response to your opponent's answer so if you, don't mind?" Jackson read off his paper and Burt looked startled for a split second but he caught Kurt's eye and the boy gave him a firm nod of encouragement.

"I have to say I agree with the opposing candidate. Our children should be able to make their own way. Just because I'm a repair man doesn't mean my son should not be able to go to college and be whatever it is he wants to be. Just because someone else in Lima is unemployed or underpaid doesn't mean their children have to starve or worry about their future. I agree with candidate Decroux. I just think that opportunity should be given to everyone," he finished with conviction, stressing the last word, and the crowd erupted in impressed claps and cheers, some going as far as to stand up and hoot in approval.

Kurt was one of them. On his feet and cheering loudly. His dad smiled softly at him and he knew that Richard might have the more traditional families in his corner. But every parent was feeling what Burt was saying. He had formed his Program as one parent to all the other parents and it would go a long way. Kurt was sure of it. Even through the sneering condescending hoots of the other side of the auditorium.

He couldn't care less for them.

"Very inspired indeed, Mr. Hummel. A good answer," Jackson said and with that question a floodgate opened.

Question after question illuminated the difference between the two candidates more and more and it was obvious that they couldn't represent more opposing values. The questions dug into the tiniest of details in their Programs and as time wore off Kurt was able to see how tired his dad was getting. How draining the whole thing was for him. But he could also see that spark in his eyes. The one that said he was in this to win, that he believed in what he stood for and that he was ready to defend it with everything he had.

After an hour of back and forth it was finally time for a five minute water break and then the questions from the audience. They were mostly variations of the same. What would you change, what are your plans, explain this or that from your program and so on and so forth.

The last man who raised his hand was a part of Richard's crowd and Kurt could tell he was going for the kill. The man was short, chubby, slimy, pervy looking and Kurt could so picture him in a dark park somewhere wearing just a trench coat and flashing the unsuspecting bypassers.

He looked like freaking Peter Pettigrew.

"We have just enough time for one more question. Yes… you sir, with the purple tie. State you name and who you'd like to answer your question," Jackson called out to him and he smirked in triumph.

"I'd like to ask candidate Hummel how exactly does he plan to lead the Westerville Circle when he has close to no education at all. I mean… disagree with me all you want but I'd like someone with a finished primary school to make decisions that concern all of us," he finished maliciously, completely ignoring the instruction to introduce himself, and the crowd fell silent.

Burt colored a deep red and everyone in the room was appalled by the man's blatant disrespect for both the instructions and the candidates.

Before anyone could figure out what to do next Richard spoke up.

"Before I allow my opponent to decide whether or not to dignify this with an answer I'd like to say that I don't condone behavior like this as you well know, Mr Landon. Insults and foul play are not my MO. So I appeal to all the people who support me to keep things clean and dignified. Win or lose we have to be able to look people in the eye when all this is over. Mr. Hummel," Richard spoke and the silence deepened even further.

Kurt turned to Jared in shock and the man smiled at him.

"Richard Decroux is not a bad man, Kurt. He's just stuck with what he believes is right. His opinions and perspective might be different or misguided, but he fights for it fairly," Jared said and Kurt nodded turning back to the stage and lifting his hands to clap.

He started clapping through the silence and soon, everyone joined in, supporting the man's fairness.

As the noise died down Burt leaned towards his microphone trying to answer the question when the doors to the auditorium slammed open and a group of formally dressed Validators barged in.

The Arrest squad. Not the counseling ones, but the Validator's equivalent of Special Forces. Dark and menacing and frightening they marched up front, spreading out to cover all exits.

Nobody was going in or out it seemed.

"Um… hello?" Jackson said nervously and his voice was high pitched and breathy. The microphone in his hand shook and it made the question surprisingly quiet, as opposed to the booming confidence of his previous inquiries.

The Validator officers lining the walls of the auditorium paid him absolutely no attention. They were facing the confused crowd, faces stone cold and determined, hands behind their backs and weapons visible on their belts.

Kurt turned towards Blaine in fear.

"Sir…" he whispered, cuddling up to him and from the corner of his eye he saw Nick taking a shaking Jeff into his lap, whispering softly into his ear as he held him.

"It's okay, lovely. Probably just some election mishap that will be sorted in no time. C'mere." Blaine lifted his arm and drew Kurt to his chest, eyes scanning the room and landing on his mother who came from backstage to stand next to Burt.

He raised a questioning eyebrow at her and she shrugged walking towards one of the Validator officers. As the current Head she hoped she would be given some answers.

"Excuse me. What's going on here, this is an official event as you are well aware?" she asked the tall, dark skinned man who stood closest to the stage, blocking the way towards the back exit. He clearly recognized her because he shifted in his stance slightly, but his shoulders remained perfectly squared and he hadn't moved an inch.

"I'm really sorry, ma'am. I'm not allowed to say anything until the Validator in charge arrives," he answered respectfully and Dana understood his duty, nodding her head and turning to walk away when another question came to mind.

"And who is the Validator in charge?" she asked but before an answer was given to her the main entrance to the auditorium opened up again and a young woman strode in, followed by another group of Validator officers.

"I am, Dom Anderson. Tasha Turner, pleased to meet you," she outstretched her hand as she came to a halt in front of Dana, smile firmly on her face.

Kurt jumped up at the name and turned his head towards Blaine.

"Sir… Sir it's Tasha… she registered us…" he whispered madly and Blaine nodded.

"I know, baby. I was there remember," he tried joking, but the tension in Kurt's body distracted him completely. His boy was shivering now, clutching to his shirt.

"Is she… Sir, is she here to take me away from you?" he gasped and Blaine let out a long sigh, holding his sub's trembling body close.

"Oh sweetie, no. Why would she do that?" he asked gently, smoothing his hand down Kurt's back in comfort as his boy hid his face in his neck shakily.

"I don't know, sir. It's just… why would they be here?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, I'm being paranoid," Kurt whispered and Blaine kissed his temple lovingly.

"Nothing to be sorry about. And nothing to be scared about either. As long as you're happy with me I won't let anyone take you away," he reassured him strongly and Kurt cuddled closer, peaking at Tasha over Blaine's shoulder as she spoke to Dana.

"Don't worry, Dom Anderson. We'll be out of your hair in a few minutes. We've received a call from Dom Danai Leviev this morning, regarding another Dom who just so happens to be in this room," she said ominously and a murmur broke out in the auditorium, people looking around and at each other, trying to figure out who it was.

"Couldn't the arrest wait for a more private setting?" Dana asked seriously, this was after all a very important event. Tasha shook her head.

"Not in cases like this I'm afraid. We have to act immediately for the benefit of more than just one submissive," she answered and Dana nodded stepping back and waving her hands at Tasha.

"I understand." She turned to face the whole room and addressed them as Head, and all the authority that gifted her with alongside her natural dominance. "Everyone in this room will comply with the Validators and their needs and then the debate will resume as normal, thank you for your patience," she said loudly, eyeing some of the more outspoken Doms before turning back to Tasha. "Please, don't let us stop you from doing your job."

Tasha thanked her before turning towards the right side of the room and training her gaze on someone Kurt couldn't see from where he was sitting. Her eyes turned cold and menacing, the complete opposite of what she had looked like smiling at them across the desk. The grin on her lips now was so frightening Kurt felt sorry for whoever stood on the other end of that look.

"Like Head Dom Anderson said, this is official Validator business, please do not interrupt or disturb it in any way. By the Validator laws, article 26 paragraph 19 regarding protection of submissive parties, the Validator Officer Service is taking jurisdiction over this case," the sheer iron in her voice had complete control over the room.

She swept the room with her eyes once more before coming back to that one person in particular.

"Dom Kevin Landon-"- The whole room gasped collectively and fierce whispering broke out. "-you are hereby under arrest for illegal and harmful actions over a submissive placed in your care with…" she drawled on and on but all Nick could see what the sheer whiteness of Jeff's skin as she said his name.

The ghost from his past.

The monster under his bed.

The ghoul that bared his teeth at him in the shadows.

The subs lips shook so fiercely he had to bite them to stop and in the process he drew blood from the soft flesh Nick loved so much. His body was so tightly coiled where he was still curled in his lap he thought he might spring apart and the Dom could tell he wasn't present. Not in spirit anyway. He was shaking his head in denial, covering his ears with his palms and muttering a string of, "No, no, no," as he rocked back and forth.

There were raised voices around them, people screaming and fighting and protesting but Jeff was the only thing he could focus on. He couldn't believe that they'd all missed him. Nick had recognized his father as soon as he'd stood up to ask that patronizing question to Burt but he hadn't even thought to look for Kevin. He had allowed himself to be lulled into thinking that Kevin was some kind of demon he could help exorcise and once Jeff felt free of him then he'd disappear. Fucking naïve. He tightened his arms around Jeff carefully and brought his lips close to his ear, pealing his hand away gently.

"Angel, listen to me. Listen to my voice. I am right here with you, taking care of you, keeping you safe. He won't touch you, baby. He can't touch you. You know why?" he asked but the response never came as Jeff shook in his lap.

He had to snap him out of his own head.

"Jeff, angel… look at me," he commanded, making sure that love was evident in every syllable that rolled off his lips. He wanted Jeff to wrap that love around him like a shield and know that nothing would ever hurt him again.

Hazel eyes glanced up immediately, scared and unfocused, but there, and Nick chanced a smile at him, trying to convey how loved he was.

"Do you know why he can't touch you?" he asked again and Jeff shook his head, breath heaving and shaky.

"Because I'm here. And I'll kill him before I let him even look at you in a way I don't like. And baby… because he's being taken away. He's being arrested and taken away by Validators and that is not something you can get out of lightly," he said and the look in Jeff's eyes grew stronger, more focused as he looked at Nick but no less terrified.

"He did it before… he did it with me," Jeff said, barely audible and Nick's chest contracted.

"Never again, angel. He won't be able to get away with it a second time, I promise you. I'll make sure they keep him," he declared with fierce conviction.

Jeff swallowed and brought his palm up and placed it over the Dom's heart, syncing his breaths with the quiet pumps in Nick's chest like the Dom always asked him to. The way he had done when Nick had first told him the news that Kurt and Blaine had brought to their attention. That red folder with Kevin's name on it that had nearly had Jeff hyperventilating.

It took a few seconds but soon enough he was present and looking at Nick with all the trust he was building towards him.

"Sir..." he whispered and Nick cupped his neck, the tips of his fingers achingly close to Jeff's mark but not touching, respecting, waiting for him to be ready.

"Right here, baby," Nick answered and Jeff nuzzled his palm.

"I… I wanna see," he said and it was as if the words shocked him to the core, he stared at Nick wide eyed and scared, but a fire was burning inside him and Nick knew…he knew he needed to see too. Needed to be able to face his demons and put this away and finally gain some real closure.

"Stand up, baby. You deserve to see the asshole's end," Nick encouraged and shakily, Jeff got to his feet, turning towards the center of all the mess. He covered the intense pounding of his heart with his palm and tried to swallow over the desert dryness in his mouth…

And there he was.

Hair still dark and slicked back. Those otherworldly cat eyes of his blazing with anger and hatred. Tall, strong form looming over the small Validator that showed no fear in front of the evil that just poured out of him and tainted the very air around him.

Kevin Landon.

His former Dom. No… no he wasn't a Dom. Jeff knew now what being a Dom meant and Kevin was not it. He was not allowed to have the same title Nick had. He wasn't allowed to taint the kindness of the man he was with now with his rotten heart. There was nothing dominant about Kevin. He was a sadist and a torturer and a coward. But he was no Dom.

And Jeff could finally see that.

"Stay with me, sir," he pleaded and Nick stood behind him, wrapping his arms around Jeff's middle in silent encouragement. Protecting him. Supporting him.

"Always, angel. I'm always here," Nick said into his ear and Jeff finally focused on the words being screamed left and right around him from his safe cocoon. Wrapped up tight in his personal haven.

The room was in chaos; raised voices, anger and threats brimming and spilling over.

But in all the mayhem Tasha seemed completely composed. She stared at Kevin as his father spat insult after insult at her, not even blinking. In fact, that half mocking grin was still there, firmly in place and suddenly, Jeff wanted to be her. To be able to be that strong and unyielding in the face of all that hatred and force instead of folding like a house of cards at the slightest shake or breeze.

"And what exactly is it that this… this so called Dom accused my son of?" the short man, who had now been doubly confirmed as Mr Landon, screamed at Tasha, spit sprinkling everywhere as his chubby cheeks shook with the force of his anger.

"Dom Leviev is not a 'so called' Dom, Mr. Landon. He's a teacher at McKinley High in Lima and he had some very serious accusations against your son. We have looked into them and found that his story is backed by solid evidence," she said calmly and it seemed as if her calmness only spurred his rage further.

"Why you little-" he started but his son cut him off.

"Dad, please. No need to make a spectacle. If Validator Turner has something concrete against me she's free to say it. Otherwise I think it's time for us to go," his cold voice shook Jeff to the core as he stared at Kevin taking a step as if he truly meant to leave.

No, no, no. Not again. He can't walk away from this again.

His path was immediately blocked by one of the officers and he huffed in annoyance as Tasha spoke again.

"You're not going anywhere, Mr. Landon. We had hoped to reason with you into coming with us so we could settle this in private but… if you're so keen on having your misdemeanors aired out in front of everyone, so be it."

She pulled out the red folder from her satchel, the very same one as Kurt and Blaine had seen and waved it around.

"This here, is everything we have on you. Your name has been under close surveillance ever since sub Sterling was taken from your care. Your parents paid for it all to go away. And it did. From the public, and the police. But you see, Mr. Landon, the Validators don't let things go. We keep track. There was a red alert on you and all your relationships. One more step out of line and we'd step in. Good thing you didn't make us wait that long," she smiled sweetly and while it made him sick to hear his name spoken, Jeff couldn't help but feel the thrill at watching color drain from Kevin's face for once as he realized this wasn't something he was likely to get out of.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he spat angrily and she cocked her head to the side.

"Your new pre-claim was reported to us as soon as it was made. We were waiting for the sub to move in with you so we could check in on him right away. But we didn't even make it to that because you made him suffer the same day he came to you," she said in disgust and Jeff gasped in shock.

They let him hurt someone else. Someone else had taken his place and Kevin destroyed them too.

"Nick," he choked and his Dom held him closer.

"He's okay, baby. They wouldn't be here if he weren't well enough to report the asshole."

By now Kevin was pacing like a caged lion, lips curled in a sneer and fists balled in rage.

"Oh and what, pray tell, did I do to him?" he asked as if he had no idea, as if him hurting someone was somehow news to him.

"Dom Leviev reported several deep cuts to his right arm, bruised neck and back, and a severe emotional trauma caused by threats and what was most likely a lack of aftercare after delivering a punishment. He had talked him down, calmed him, took care of him and he is willing to deliver his statement to us as well as let us look at his injuries. I'm betting we'll be able to get traces of your DNA off him. What do you think?" she asked sweetly and he jumped forward trying to strike her across the face.

The closest Validator officer caught him and held his hands behind his back as he thrashed and spat at her. "You have no idea what you're talking about! That little asshole told you nothing but lies. He got what he deserved for disobeying his Dom. But seeing what you do and how you behave you'd know nothing of being a decent sub, would you, you washed out trash," he mocked and she smiled at him in pity and disgust which only enraged him further.

"If I were you I wouldn't want to add 'attacking a Validator' to your list of charges, Mr. Landon. Behave," she scolded like he was nothing more than a naughty child and he thrashed against the man restraining him once again at the blatant disrespect for his status.

"You have no case. It's Brad's word against mine. He can't prove anything," he taunted with a self-satisfied smirk and Jeff froze in Nick's arms.

"Brad? Sir… he doesn't mean..?" Jeff turned wide eyed and scared more than ever because the thought of Kevin abusing some nameless, faceless sub was hard enough on him. The thought of him hurting someone he knew, no matter how much of an asshole he was, was too close to home. Too hard. Too personal.

He just needed Nick to convince him it wasn't true.

"I think so, baby," Nick said sadly, stroking over his hair soothingly and Jeff closed his eyes feeling memories of what he had been through flood him as Kevin taunted the Validators with their lack of evidence.

He had the scars too. The same ones Brad had he was willing to bet. The neat, obsessive compulsive ones that showed just how screwed up Kevin really was. Brad's were on his arm. Five of them, parallel, completely straight and perfect. Jeff had them on his left thigh. Five of them, parallel, completely straight and perfect.

Kevin's brand, his signature.

They'd faded with time, melted into the skin, but the burn of them stayed and Jeff could feel it now.
And he knew wherever he was, Brad was feeling it too no matter their differences. Hurt like that was hurt and it transcended silly barriers like social status.

He couldn't stand for that… no, he wouldn't.

"Nick..?" he asked for permission silently over his shoulder and his Dom took one look at him and knew exactly what was going through his mind. He was the extension of his soul, his mind, him and he knew what he needed. Always.

And what he needed now was to borrow some of Nick's strength and finally speak up. Finally stand up for himself and say all the things he never could have before. He was so much more than that broken boy now and he could feel the change. A few months ago he would have gone to absolute pieces being faced with Kevin again, and while he was still scared, no terrified, he felt like he could still look him in the eye and hold his malevolent gaze. Something he hadn't done since the start of their bond when he was too innocent to know any better, to recognize what that spark in them was.

"Sir, please…" he whispered and felt those hands hold him tighter.

"Right here, angel. Always by your side. Do what you have to do," Nick said and Jeff nodded turning towards Kevin again and catching the end of the fight.

"-no proof and there is nothing you can do about it! It's his word against mine. IT JUST ONE VOICE!" Kevin almost screamed at Tasha and Jeff finally felt the barrier inside him snap.

He wasn't weak anymore. He wasn't alone. He wasn't scared.

He was loved. He was safe. He was strong.

It all came to him in the voices of those who loved him the most.

"It's two voices," he said and silence fell over them.

He could feel the eyes on him, Kurt, his parents, his friends, all those people he had never seen before.

And Kevin.

As soon as he saw him his eyes turned condescending and taunting. "Well, well, well. If it isn't, Sterling. The world's worst sub," he drawled and Jeff shivered at the jab. He knew he wasn't ideal but…

"Don't listen to him, darling. You're perfect. Mine and absolutely flawless," Nick whispered to counter the blackness that threatened to swallow him down again.

Nick was sunshine. Nick was light. Nick had never lied to him. Not ever.

"Ohhh… you got yourself another Dom. How sweet. Does he find you as insufficient as I did?" he taunted again and it was hard now. Hard to stay in the light when he knew Nick got almost nothing from their relationship. But no, no. He wasn't allowed to do this to him anymore. Uncover all those old insecurities, the ones he'd worked so hard to put to bed, and scrape them raw again.

It was so easy for Kevin though. He knew just where to hit because he was the one to put the weak spots there to begin with. He knew what would hurt the most, what buttons to smash down to make him buckle because he had spent months tormenting him to figure it out.

"Ignore him, Mr. Sterling. Are you really willing to testify?" Tasha asked and Jeff struggled to answer.

He wanted to. He did. But his barely collected strength was leaving him fast with every word Kevin said, the longer he stared him down and made him feel like he was just a child again.

"Oh Jeffery could never ignore me, he knows better… don't you?" Kevin mocked, the edge of his voice a replica of the one he always used before the pain would start and Jeff shrank under it, hoping like always, to at least minimize the damage.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't be what he needed to be. He would always be that scared little boy cowering under Kevin's shadow and Nick would never be truly happy with him and there was no way for him not to see that now. Kevin's voice was still screaming in his ears, still louder than Nick's. Still stronger, more potent, more convincing. The ghost of his hands on him felt more real to him than the gentle embrace Nick had him in, in this reality, not the one in his head.

"Mr Sterling?" Tasha asked again at his continued silence. "Would you testify?"

"Testify what exactly?" Kevin laughed. "That he is a failure at pleasing a Dom? An absolute waste of space and air?" Jeff felt tears prick his eyes and Nick's hands left him, making him feel emptier than ever. "Because that is common knowledge and-"

SLAM!

"You are not allowed to say a single word about Jeff! To him! Around him!" Another fist collided with Kevin's face so strong the entire auditorium fell silent in shock. "He's the most amazing person ever and someone as vile as you shouldn't even be allowed to share the same air with someone as pure as him. He's loved now. And you are going to get exactly what you deserve you miserable maggot."

A red hue spread all over Kevin's cheek and he was finally quiet, finally shocked enough to just shut up. Nick rubbed his hand and turned around to try and find out the source of an impressed laugh. It was Sebastian. Of course it was.

He allowed himself a short moment of triumph, embracing the rush of endorphins that came with finally giving into the impulse his dominant side was always giving him to find Kevin and pay him back. It was strange, it didn't feel exactly like he thought it would. It didn't fix anything magically and it wasn't as satisfying as he thought it should have been. He looked back at Jeff and the reason became clear.

He jumped into action and collected his tearful, shaking angel back into his arms.

"Perfection. My perfection. Nothing he says is true. You're enough. I'm happy with you. I have everything I could ever need when I hold you and I need you to remember that. Okay, baby? Tell me you believe me?" he pleaded as he peppered his face with kisses, feeling him nod in affirmation dazedly eyes still fixed on Kevin's face over Nick's shoulder.

How could he suddenly seem so much less now?

For the longest period in his life this Dom was the personification of the devil himself. Huge and overpowering. Now he just seemed… small. How did Nick manage to do that? To take him down to a level he could process and tear away all the dark shrouds to reveal the weak person Kevin really was.

"I'll… I'll testify," he whispered.

"Are you sure, angel?" Nick asked, still panting with suppressed rage but so, so gentle with him.

Jeff swallowed and blinked. "Yeah… yes. I will."

Nick nodded at Tasha who was still waiting patiently for his final answer. She grinned and nodded at the officers to take Kevin away.

"You're just gonna let him get away with that?! He hit me?! Twice! You all saw it!" Kevin kicked and screamed as they dragged him away.

"Who hit you?" Tasha asked innocently turning to her men. "Did you see someone hit him?"

They all shared a cheeky smile and shrugged murmuring over each other.

"No ma'am."

"Didn't see a thing."

"He's delusional."

"I'd check on the camera but the battery died. Oh well."

The doors to the room slammed shut behind them and Tasha spared a moment to speak quietly to Dana before she left as well, Mr Landon and the rest of the Landon family trailing after her shouting at her straight back.

Jeff could hardly process any of it.

"Do you wanna go home?" Nick whispered into his ear, mindful that literally every eye and ear was turned their way right now.

"It's over right?" Jeff asked, voice hitching.

"Yeah, angel. It's over. You did it, baby and I'm so proud of you," Nick told him gently and Jeff buried his tearful face into Nick's collar as he allowed himself to be swept out of the room. They only caught the tail end of the applause that broke out for them before the doors shut.

"Because both the failures and the triumphs brought me right where I am right now. They made me the man I am today. A bit more aware of my own shortcomings but infinitely more sure that I have a way to overcome them and be the best person I can be…"

"Do you want the little marshmallows in it? Oh and what about whipped cream? I think we bought that… maybe chocolate sticks, I think we have those…"

Jeff smiled into the pillow he was holding to his chest, curled up on their new couch amongst the many boxes that still needed unpacking. He could hear Nick stumbling about their new kitchen, opening random drawers and knocking into pans he hadn't gotten used to the placement of yet.

"Surprise me, sir," he called back towards the racket.

They'd been holed up in their new house for the few weeks- only venturing out for the essential things like school- ever since the debate and Kevin's sudden arrest, and Jeff had been... content. The whole thing had hit pretty hard initially, the aftermath being not pretty at all. Jeff couldn't have Nick leave the room for more than a few seconds at a time before he started panicking, like full on panic attacks that left him unable to breathe. Sleeping was even harder. Every time he closed his eyes he could see Kevin's sneering face, every time he dreamed they morphed into nightmares that had him screaming himself awake. He was constantly on edge, expecting Kevin to turn up and exact his revenge. Punish him for standing up to him like he always did, that lesson had been beaten into him quite soundly after all and he was waiting for the punch line he guessed.

But they'd gotten through it, Nick was amazingly patient and loving like always and by the time Jeff's parents and Kurt and Blaine and everyone else were turning up to check on him he was managing to smile.

He thought back to the day of the testimony with nothing but pride in his heart.

The legal process was vastly different from the regular one once the Validators stepped in and took over from the police. Everything was done to ensure maximum safety for the sub or subs involved. They had allowed him to deliver his statement in the confines of the Validators offices.
He sat there, with Nick firmly by his side and told them everything. His soul ached when phantoms of old bruises and cuts flared on his skin but every word made him feel better, stronger.
Until finally, there was nothing else for him to say but goodbye to Tasha and allow Nick to finally pull him away from the last tie that tethered him to his past.

As he walked out he almost ran into Brad, and the other sub had never looked more tired than in that moment. Long sleeves covered his, no doubted, bruised arms and Jeff lifted his eyes up respectfully. He knew those bruises. And he didn't want to give them importance. He wouldn't be the one to remind Brad of them.

He looked up into his sunken eyes and despite all the bad blood between them offered a tentative smile.

"Good luck." He whispered softly and he could tell how much it startled the other sub. He stood almost frozen, completely still apart from the tips of his fingers that inched back to brush the hand of the Dom behind him.
The man gave his fingers a gentle squeeze and as if empowered by it Brad looked up and offered back a barely there nod to Jeff before entering into the room to give his statement.

And just like that it was over.

Finally, truly, wonderfully over… and after the testimony Jeff had given he didn't have to worry about Kevin ever again. He had come to the realization that there was no longer any reason to fear that phantom hand. Kevin wasn't going to be able to get near him from where he was headed and the evaporation of that worry was a surreal feeling, but one that was so fresh and clear he never wanted to lose it. He found out later on that where Kevin was headed was a high security Validator's institution for Doms where they would keep him away from ever touching another sub and even if he ever got the right to be free, he would have to be put on hormone injections to suppress his dominance and make sure he never bonded again.
Jeff was perfectly fine with that solution.

Another reason for the low profiles was the fact that the paparazzi had hounded them directly after the arrest and everyone who dared to visit them were also harassed. Nick had called into Dalton and spoken to Hikaru and he'd given them both compassionate leave for a few days. Days Jeff had desperately needed to put himself back together again.

When he did return to school his friends had set up a kind of ridiculous perimeter around him that prevented anyone getting too close to ask the wrong questions. Jeff would have been annoyed at being completely smothered and babied if it wasn't so touching and wonderful.

And with all the excitement buzzing around outside of their little haven of a new home, Nick and Jeff were happy to stay in, relieved even, to order online shopping and takeaway and properly settle into their new place… well, in a way.

Unpacking wasn't either or their strong suits and Kurt was suitably horrified at him in a way that made him giggle. Taking over three weeks to unpack was apparently sacrilege to the rules and laws of Kurt Anderson-Hummel.

It wasn't entirely his fault though… the essentials were placed after all. Poncho had his new cage set up in the corner of the living room, it had been a gift from Cupid, i.e. Kurt and Blaine, because apparently Nick and Jeff had a new house so 'Cho should as well. The thing was large enough for his playdates with Cupid of course, the little bunny boyfriends needed somewhere as adorable as them to shack up in.

It was just, Jeff took forever examining every object that came out of the boxes, whether it was his or Nick's, then took another forever's worth to see where exactly it belonged in the house. Whereas Nick just wanted to play with the boxes, building forts and the like and coaxing Jeff into snuggling in whatever nest he had made that day.

Jeff loved it too much to get rid of them.

There was one unessential thing that had been immediately unpacked however and by Nick no less. Sitting pride of place above the fireplace was the painting Jeff had drawn of him and his Dom and gifted to him for Christmas. At the time it had felt like an inferior present, and he hated the fact that he was in it at all.

Now when Jeff looked at it he saw… home. Family. Safety.

Love.

The word came easily to his mind now. Like a sweet song he'd just learned the words to and didn't want to stop listening to on repeat.

"Da, da, da, daaa!" Nick sang dramatically as he came back into the room carrying two brightly colored mugs that had baseball caps on that read Change and dodging the brown box obstacle course that was their living room expertly. "Prepare my sweet little angel pie, for the best hot chocolate your taste buds will ever have the pleasure of tasting," he grinned.

Jeff couldn't help but smile back, discarding the pillow as Nick placed the steaming cups down on the coffee table, the hem of his simple black tank top riding up slightly past the waist band of his basketball shorts. They were his comfy clothes and Jeff had gone for a similar vibe in his sweats and plain tee, both their hair freshly washed and fluffy from drying without styling. He found he loved them both best like this, unadorned and honest.

When the Dom turned back Jeff titled his chin up in a clear signal that made Nick beam before complying immediately.

He bent down and cupped the blonde's chin, coaxing him to just the right angle before soft lips met in a lingering kiss that had Jeff's cheeks flaming pink and happy. Tentative hands rose up to cup either side of Nick's neck to keep him there for a moment or two as their lips met closed mouth and sweet a few more times.

"Thank you, sir," he whispered against his mouth.

"You are very welcome, angel," Nick smiled back, giving him one last peck on mouth, nose and forehead before jumping onto the couch next to him and pulling him into his arms.

Jeff yelped in laughter when the Dom started rolling them around into ridiculous positions in the guise of 'getting comfortable', but eventually they settled into their favorite position of Nick on his back and Jeff on the inside, curled up onto his chest with their legs intertwined.

Jeff hummed in happiness as he snuggled closer and Nick pulled the remote out from places unknown and began channel surfing as they waited for their drinks to cool. The sub was idly playing with the collar of Nick's tank, listening amusedly to the random comments his Dom was making at passing shows. He was so relaxed he could have fallen right to sleep.

"Ooo Toy Story! Score!"

Jeff perked up a little and glanced at the TV that was hooked on the wall. The film was about a quarter of the way through, Woody and Buzz butting heads already.

"We have them all on DVD if you wanna watch them, and they don't have commercial breaks every five seconds," he pointed out with a grin that was hidden under Nick's chin.

The Dom's hand stroked over his back, playing around the defined line of his spine. "I know, but finding them on TV is fun. I imagine all the other people around the world watching it too and sharing the Disney magic."

It was cheesy as all hell and Jeff wanted to laugh at him for such a ridiculous statement only… it was such a Nick thing to say. So completely, crazily, ridiculously him that Jeff couldn't help the bubble of absolute warmth that bloomed in his chest and spread out into every limb.

"Plus, Toy Story is our film, baby," Nick cooed at him. "It brought us together on that cold and stormy night."

Jeff was smiling ear to ear with the reminder but he was finding it was actually fun to be a little contrary. He didn't have to fear the repercussions for a little teasing. "It wasn't actually that cold."

"Hush. It was a blizzard and I was the dashing hero who came to save you from hypothermia," Nick said certainly and Jeff laughed at his exaggeration.

"A blackout, not a blizzard."

"Nope. I refuse your facts and superimpose my own."

"Sir-"

"It was a snowy wasteland out those doors and I had to spoon you for body temperature reasons you understand. It was life or death and had nothing to do with how adorable and snuggly you looked. Or how nice you smelled. Or how shiny your hair was. None of those things," Nick warned him seriously and Jeff couldn't believe the idiot was actually managing to keep a straight face, the sub himself was giggling all over him.

"I'm happy you stayed, sir… that night I mean… and all the nights after that. I don't know if I ever told you that," he admitted out loud, blushing down to his toes but steadfast in his resolve to finally start giving back some of those effortless affections that fell from Nick's lips as easily as breathing.

"I know it, angel. There's nowhere else I'd rather be," Nick assured him, sliding his fingers through the hairs at his nape. Jeff shivered at the closeness to his sensitive mark, actually having the fleeting urge to push up into those fingers like a cat. "I have to admit that I like hearing it though," his Dom added with a smile pressed against his forehead.

The sub in him preened at that, at making his Dominant happy and giving back for once. Sometimes he hated how one-sided their relationship was and he'd decided that instead of mope and stress about it, he'd try little things to change that. For example; he'd cooked dinner the other night, nothing special, just a simple pasta, but the way Nick had inhaled it like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted and went back for seconds had made him light up inside. He pulled tiny pranks on his Dom just to make him laugh and found that he wasn't scared of Nick's reaction in the slightest. He asked for his opinions on his art and outfits and hair, safe in the knowledge that Nick would never put him down or insult him.
It was a heady feeling, being that free.

He wanted more of that.

Because he wasn't useless, he could do things and contribute to this relationship and Nick had set the groundwork to let him know that even if he did mess up, it wouldn't be the end of the world or a slap in the face that would come up to meet him. They could talk about it and then he could try again.

"Is it weird that I never want to leave our house ever again?" Nick asked in a musing tone, his voice rumbling pleasantly under Jeff's ear.

"No, sir. I don't want to move ever again," he sighed happily, melting into his Dom even further like syrup over pancakes. With the scent of rich chocolate curling about them and the hypnotic rise and fall of Nick's chest he could have easily fallen straight to sleep if he wasn't so determined to stay awake to savor it.

"But I'd miss you moving, angel," Nick pouted, twirling a lock of his hair around a finger. "I'd miss you dancing in the kitchen when you're cooking and you think I'm not watching. Side note. I can't keep my eyes off you so you should really know better," he chastised teasingly and Jeff's face was on fire.

He'd seen that? All those silly little jerks and twirls and bopping around like an idiot… and yet, he didn't feel embarrassed like he would have suspected he would. Yes, he felt a little natural embarrassment of course, but it didn't feel overwhelming or anxious. It didn't make him want to run and hide. Truthfully, he maybe liked the idea? Of his Dom watching him, and it made him get a little hotter under the collar.

Nick hummed as he thought, unaware of the direction of his thoughts. "I'd also miss you drawing in your studio while I laze around on the sofa and pretend to read. Side note. I stare at you then too."

Jeff laughed, face hurting from how wide he was smiling.

"What else, sir?" he found himself actually fishing.

"I'd miss the way you twitch in your sleep. Side note… well, you're seeing a pattern here, right?"

"About the creepy way you stare at me, sir?" he confirmed in his most guileless voice.

"I am your number one stalker," Nick confirmed happily. "No one will stalk you as lovingly as I!"

"You're insane, sir!" Jeff laughed.

God how much he laughed and smiled now. How filled with joy and serenity and bliss he was. How he now had memories worth keeping again that weren't tainted or shrouded under a cloud of darkness. And it was all because of this one man, this Dom of his that had fought for him, waited patiently for him to be ready, loved him.

And Jeff loved him back. So much. So deeply. Loved, him, loved him, loved him. He felt crazy with it sometimes, restless with it.

Nick mock gasped. "I'm only as insane as you've made me, angel," he declared flipping them over so he could roll on top and playfully kiss all over his face and neck and shoulders. Anywhere he could get his mouth too and all the while Jeff laughed and squealed and soaked in the affection until his heart was near to bursting.

"I love you," he sighed what his heart was beating steadily out loud, the words sighing themselves at finally having a free voice, and he felt Nick's lips freeze against his collarbone. The Dom pulled back and rested on one palm, eyes locked to his with an intensity that was breathtaking.

Jeff held his breath and waited for the explosion. He didn't mean to say it, yet he wouldn't have taken the words back for the world because he meant them with all his heart and he was ready to voice that vulnerable feeling. But what he hadn't anticipated on how tense he'd be waiting for the reaction, which was ridiculous because Nick told him he loved him a million times a day in a thousand different ways.

There was a faint furrow between Nick's dark brows like he was confused or surprised, a flush to his cheeks that he always got when he was in an extreme of emotion and he watched those parted, pink lips in anticipation as they formed silent letters or words for a few moments. And then everything smoothed out, the furrow gone, the flush still apparent but softened by the soft smile Nick's lips formed into as he said, "I love you too, angel."

And that was that.

A beautiful, quiet moment. No fanfare. No fireworks aside for the ones inside Jeff's chest. No huge dramatic speech about how long he'd waited or how ecstatic he was that Jeff had finally said those three little words. Just I love you, and I love you too.

It was all they needed, all that needed to be said and it was everything.

Encompassing every up and every down they'd been through, every tear shed and smile fought for. It was for the past where they hadn't known each other but wished they had, the present which was a hard-won happiness but happiness nonetheless and for the future that now looked so very, very bright and warm... yellow.

"…because if there was ever a moment I was more proud of what we have accomplished together…it's this one. When I stand in front of you and can promise you the best of futures you could have ever imagined. I, Burt Hummel, as your Head, and you as my friends, my confidantes, my partners in crime, my family."

"Sir… can you please get that?" Blaine heard Kurt yell from their bathroom at the sound of his cellphone going off.

He stretched his naked body lazily, the thrum of satisfied dominance rushing through his veins, and picked up the phone from Kurt's nightstand.

"Hey, Jeff!" he answered cheerfully seeing the subs name flash on the screen at the same time the bathroom door clicked and Kurt showed up, making Blaine's eyes almost pop out of his head, "Y-yeah it's Blaine. Kurt is… well… Kurt can't answer the phone because he's covered in… mud? Play-doh? The hell?"

He stared at his sub as he scowled, but the usual glare just lost all power under all the green gunk plastered on Kurt's face. He looked like a swamp creature. An adorable one… but still.

"It's not mud, Blaine. It's a revitalizing crème made out of-" he started but Blaine shook his head in despair.

"NO! NO! I kiss that face. I don't wanna know what you put on it!" he wailed dramatically and Kurt grabbed the phone from his hand in exasperation, pouting when he heard Jeff giggling madly on the other side.

"You traitor," he said to the blonde.

"Sorry, sorry. Is that your green tea and cucumber face mask that had Blaine all scared?" he asked as Blaine tried to poke a finger into the crème with an expression of a child seeing a plane for the first time.

"Yes. Stop it, sir." He swatted his hand away and Blaine pouted, still eyeing his face. Still making no effort to shower or get redressed which was distracting enough even though they'd just spent quite a few hours playing already.

"I thought so. Anyway, I wanted to know if you two had any plans for tomorrow night?" he asked and Kurt heard a bit of that old reluctance seep into his voice. Like he wasn't sure he had the right to ask something like that. Like he was afraid he was imposing somehow. But it was getting easier and easier for him to just be and Kurt was so proud of him.

"Not that I know of. Sir, we free tomorrow night?" he checked in with Blaine who had wandered into the bathroom and now came out holding a box of Kurt's crème, unscrewing the lid and comparing the content of the box with Kurt's face before shaking his head and closing the box.

"Sir!" Kurt waved a hand in his face and Blaine jumped.

"What? No… no plans," he said distractedly, retreating back into the bathroom, his magnificent bare ass flexing with his steps.

Okay, concentrate.

"No, sweetie. We're free."

"Okay good. Um… I wanted to host a dinner party for the Warblers and their partners at the apartment since we finally unpacked and settled in so… you in?" Jeff asked and Kurt smiled happily.

"Yeah, absolutely. What time do you want us there? Want me to come and help you cook?" he offered but Jeff's answer surprised him.

"No thanks. I bullied Nick into helping. So um… around seven?" he said and after a few more details were settled Kurt hung up, a wide smile stretched over his face.

"Oh my god it looks so scary when you smile!" Blaine almost squeaked, walking back towards him and Kurt hit his shoulder playfully before heading into the bathroom to wash his face, filling Blaine in on the details of the dinner over the rush of water.

"So… does he need help?" Blaine asked when Kurt came back into the room and Kurt shook his head, crawling back onto the bed with his reclining, lazy Dom.

"No… he said, and I quote 'I bullied Nick into helping'." He chuckled but his laugh died when he saw Blaine's horrified expression.

"Lovely. We cannot eat Nick's cooking. I don't wanna die yet! We need to have babies and get a dog! I'm so young!" he said dramatically and Kurt almost doubled over in laughter.

"Jeff is a great cook. I'm sure Nick will just chop and stir things," he offered but Blaine was having none of it.

"Chop? Jeff's giving him a knife to wave around? Kurt… this is not a dinner party. It's a bloodbath." He flopped onto the bed fully on his back, ever the drama queen and Kurt rolled his eyes as he settled next to him, stretching out along his side.

"I'm sure we'll live, sir," he chuckled and for a while they just rested in silence.

"He said he bullied him into helping? Jeff said that?" Blaine asked after a while and Kurt giggled.

"His exact words. I can't believe how far he's come. Nick is so good to him," he said and Blaine hummed in agreement.

"Nick has always been made to care for someone like that. That's why he wants to be a teacher. That's why kids are usually drawn to him wherever we go. Corrine has a sister who has three little boys. And any time they come to visit they insist on inviting Nick over so he can play with them. He's endlessly patient," he said and Kurt smiled at the thought of Nick goofing around with three tiny boys.

"That's why he's so good for Jeff. His patience helped Jeff open up at his own pace. And now he's… well he's free," Kurt said happily.

"Yeah. But you're forgetting how much better Nick is because of Jeff too. He keeps him focused and grounded and not just in the usual Dom/Sub ways. It's something Nick usually forgets to be while he's being crazy. It's a two way street lovely. Just like us," he smiled.

"You know… if someone had told me a year ago that I'd be where I am now I'd laugh in their face," Kurt chuckled as he cuddled closer to Blaine, head resting on his Dom's bare chest, traces of bondage soft and pink around his wrists.

Blaine smiled, tilting his head down and kissing his damp forehead as he ran his hand down the creamy skin of his back. If skin this soft was the result of that green gunk he could learn to love Kurt's swamp monster alter ego.

"Really? Why is that?" he asked, tone teasing but still curious.

"I didn't really have the best opinion of you, sir," Kurt admitted honestly and Blaine nodded, knowing it was true.

He remembered his sub when he first claimed him. How scared he was. How defiant and ready to fight for what he thought he wouldn't have; what he thought Blaine wouldn't give him. He had no idea back then. No idea that Blaine would give him the world. All he had to do was ask.

"You don't say," Blaine exclaimed in fake surprise and Kurt giggled pinching the skin below his bellybutton playfully.

"Yeah well… you were an ass…" he said surely before his own mind caught up with his brain and he hastily amended, "Sir."

Blaine barked out a laugh at that, his entire body shaking.

"Never change, lovely, just… never change," he said through the last of his chuckles and Kurt arched up on one elbow and kissed his cheek.

"I already changed, sir," he said softly, eyes equally as gentle and Blaine up at him in question.

"How so?" he asked trying to figure it out.

Because to him, his sub was always this fiery, passionate, opinionated creature that he had neither way, nor desire to tame. He would always run wild, he would always be strong and magnificent. And he wouldn't have him any other way no matter how often his skills as a Dominant would be called into question. The people that would comment just didn't have any idea of what being a true Dom should look like.

"I belong to you sir. I used to think I would always be alone. I built who I am around that thought. Having to be strong for myself. Preparing to live my life defending myself from people I didn't want around me. But then you came along and now…now I get to be strong for you too. I get to show you how strong I am by submitting to you and knowing you won't use that against me. I get to open up and be free. Because you're my safety net, Blaine. And you have my back when I'm not as strong as I thought I was," he said propping his chin on his Dom's chest and looking him straight in the eye, love and devotion shining there making Blaine's heart race.

He ran a gentle hand down Kurt's pale cheek and stopped with his thumb lingering on his lips.

"I was so incredibly lucky to find you, beautiful. I will never stop being grateful to whomever put you on my path," Blaine whispered reverently and Kurt smiled up at him.

"You can tell Mae that," he said and Blaine chuckled.

"I believe I already did." He smiled and Kurt stretched up to kiss it because it was just that irresistible and Kurt was over feeling embarrassed about how stupidly in love with his Dom he was. Blaine's warm palm cup his cheek for a tiny bit before his Dom pulled away looking at him intensely.

"So um… what is in that green stuff?"

"Together for a better world."

Explanation of Burt's speech and Summary of Brad scene

1. The chapter starts with Burt and his supporters waiting for the results. Burt obviously wins but we actually take the chapter back into the past before that's announced and Burt's speech serves as an introduction to every scene before we state he had won.

2. Danai is home alone thinking about Brad who had gone to live with his new Dom (Kevin). As he is having a drink Brad knocks on his door and it's clear he was beaten up…or something worse. It turns out Kevin did it to him and as Danai tries his best to comfort him Brad admits who did it and that he knows Danai is his real Dom.

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A&M