Dave had never expected to end up here. Sitting by a wall, shivering, rubbing his arms up and down to calm the chills spiraling through him. Late fall and he was sitting in a freaking wind tunnel of buildings in nothing but a thin t-shirt and some ratty looking khaki shorts. Not that he wasn't grateful for them. He was. He would never, outwardly, complain about where he was. Because Dave was a slave.

For years he'd lived in a country home, owned by an elderly man who used him for building, yard work, fixing appliances. All things handy. Unfortunately, his Master had recently passed on. Not that Dave really mourned for the man. He'd barely seen him in all those years of service. Dave was housed outside, in a small shack with the other slaves, and unless given a distinct order was to stay out of his Master's sight.

No, Dave's main concern when the man had died was. . .What happens to me? Where do I go?

He got the answer rather quickly. Dave was auctioned off to the highest bidder and taken away. All of the slaves were. In Dave's case, he was taken by a trader who traveled around, showing off his stock. That's how Dave ended up here. A place he'd never even dreamed of seeing.

The big city.

Dave looked up at the tall buildings, listening to the constant noise around him, the air feeling thicker and hotter. He felt so out place. And really, he was. Dave stuck out like a sore thumb among the other slaves around him being sold. They looked so small and delicate. Meant for cleaning, cooking, things inside a nice home. Obedient little pets. Dave on the other hand looked rough and wild. Broad shoulders and big arms, his skin tanned and scarred up. A tattered, tight collar around his neck. Brown hair a curly wild mess, particularly in the front. He was either given a look of utter disdain or overlooked completely by potential buyers.

He didn't belong here.

Which is why Dave was sitting off to the side, not a main focus of the trader's crop. Let the rich folk look at the nice, dainty little things. Dave rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his knees, hunched over in a position that really was not helping his chances of being chosen. Though if he was honest, he didn't know if he wanted to go home with any of these city dwellers. From the looks of the other slaves people around here were looking for a new pet to take home and pamper. The thought was just disgusting in Dave's opinion. He was supposed to work. Not sit around on a pillow looking fancy.

But what if no one did buy him? What would that mean for him? Would he be traded back into the country somewhere? Or would his worth just go down and he'd end up in some horrible pit somewhere in this city? It wasn't as if he could ask these sorts of things however. . . He was left to let the thoughts circle round and round in his head.

That is until a pair of shoes were standing in front of him. Facing him even. Dave stared at them, hard, feeling a tremble trying to go through his body. From excitement or fear, he wasn't entirely sure.

"You are a big boy, aren't you?" Came a voice, male, but higher than was to be expected. Yet it demanded respect and attention.

Fingers were suddenly in Dave's hair. Dave was silent, eyes widened, at a momentary loss that he was being given any attention at all. Only for the pessimistic thought that it was someone toying with him for their amusement, who would get his hopes up then just abandon him for one of those cute things a few feet away. Even so, Dave spoke, his voice low and submissive. "Yes, sir."

Soft fingertips slipped under the jut of Dave's chin, putting pressure upwards so the other would look at him properly. Dave swallowed thickly and raised his head up obediently, golden eyes gazing upon the man who was showing interest in him. Then he stared. Which Dave was not supposed to do, not in the way he was. Eyes widened and tainted with awe.

The man before him looked rather delicate himself, his skin pale and flawless, cold blue eyes gazing down at Dave with a smile curled on his pink lips. Dave simply dropped his arms from his knees to adopt a better position as he sat there, never taking his eyes off the man for even a second, hope building so hard in his chest it hurt.

"Stand up," The man clipped out the words, drawing his hand back to snap his fingers, obviously expecting a quick response. "Come on, let me look at you. Up. Now."

Dave scrambled to his feet, in a rather undignified manner but the other man didn't seem put off. Don't get over excited. . . Dave warned himself. Even if not all the excitement was good. He was terrified. And that thought sent shame into his gut. The man causing him so much fear was shorter than he was and his frame was much, much smaller. Even in his elderly years, Dave's previous Master had been an intimidating man. This one however, walked around Dave, his long legs carrying him in a quick circle as he looked him over. Managing to look down on him even though Dave stood over him by a couple inches.

Dave suddenly felt a hand go under his shirt, touching his abdomen with soft, warm fingers. He felt air start to woosh out of him, not used to being touched. Not like that.

"You are strong. Sturdy. Useful. Find out how much he is for me," The man suddenly demanded of a woman standing beside him. Dave hadn't even noticed her until now, watching her scamper off to talk to the seller.

"What are you called, slave?" Asked the buyer, a glint in his eye as his hand went down to squeeze Dave's groin. "Or do you not have a name?"

Dave jumped, all his muscles going tight. What is he. . .? He's testing me. Answer him!

"D-. . .David." Dave took in a deep breath. Then added, "Sir." on quickly, mind racing as he tried to steady himself.

The hand was removed, the owner of it actually giving a smile. "David. That's a good name. It suits you. You're strong, healthy. . . Although you could certainly stand to be fed and cleansed. Tell me. Where were you plucked from? It is not often to see your kind around the city. I'll consider myself quite lucky to have you."

Dave looked up. Have him? So he did want him? He wistfully looked in the direction the woman had gone before back to the man, looking both hopeful and apprehensive. "Helmshire estate, sir. This is my first time in a city. . ."

"Country boy! I like that." The man smiled, turning as his assistant came back. They exchanged quiet words that Dave could not hear. So he stood, biting the inside of his cheek, trying not to look restless as he waited. Which became even more difficult because they both walked off. Not away entirely, just over to the seller. To that vile man whom Dave had been under the care and command of for a few weeks now.

It took almost an hour before Dave heard that light voice returning to him.

"Come on, big guy. You're coming home with me." The man grinned, "First. We need to make a stop. You need new clothes. Can't have you walking around with me looking like that."

Dave's eyes lit up, tongue darting over his lips excitedly. "Th- Thank you sir."

"My name is Kurt Hummel, David." Kurt told him with an uppity tone. "Though, I expect you to call me Master."

"Yes, of course, Master." Dave nodded, his stomach churning and nerves spazzing all over the place. He tried to convince himself this was good. This. . . Kurt person seemed happy with Dave's size and strength. Must mean he had use for him.

Right?

Kurt lead Dave just down the street, a lead hooked onto the tattered collar on his neck to keep him close. "What punishment were your trained by?"

". . . Mainly whips, sir." Dave told him hesitantly, the scarred up skin on his back suddenly feeling like it was crawling.

"Hmm. I don't exactly favor the idea of whips. Perhaps a crop of some sort would be acceptable?" Kurt asked, sounding legitimately uncertain about that.

Dave bowed his head. Though mostly to try and hide expression, feeling it tighten into a scowl at the mention of a crop. "Yes, Master. That would be acceptable."

Pain was pain.

"Marco!" Kurt called out as they walked into a store, the single word authoritative, Dave behind him with a curious look in his eyes. He'd never been in such a place. "Follow me. Grab a cart, hurry up, I have sketches to do tonight for the new folio but I need to clothe my new present. I expect you to be at my party tomorrow night? Birthday celebration and a new line! Excitement!"

A small dark haired man had appeared as soon as he heard Kurt's voice, following. And staring at Dave like Kurt had brought a beast inside the store. In a way. . . He had. Dave looked like some sort of body guard standing next to Kurt.

Kurt just grinned at him. "Dave, do me a favor. Come here." He tugged at his arm and pushed him towards a round platform that lie in the center of the store.

"Stand still, understand? Stand up straight, look forward and hold your arms out." Kurt then bent down and grabbed a pull out tape measure. "Marco. Write these sizes down for me," he quipped. The smaller man then started to take measurements of various parts of Dave's body. Inseam, width, waist, all of the things that would help him know the perfect sizes for clothing. And though Dave did exactly as he was told, he found it hard not to start fidgeting when Kurt's hands were on him.

Dave tired to just stare forward while Kurt measured, Marco writing everything down. But his master's hands going everywhere. Didn't matter what he was doing, Dave felt nervous, his heart rate going up. This wasn't at all like how the seller had inspected him. This was. . . Dave had no idea what this was!

Kurt let the tape slide back into the case with a hiss and a snap which made Dave flinch so hard as soon as he realized he did it, he felt self-conscious. The sound process like the crack of the whip, leaving him startled. Barely hearing what Kurt was apparently saying to him, not even noticed Dave's reaction.

"-Quite remarkable." Kurt finished as Dave made himself focus on the mans words. Kurt grabbed Dave's hand, abandoning the lead, fingers wrapping neatly around sideways, curling around the space where thumb would meet the rest of his fingers. "Come now. We'll get you all fixed up with more appropriate garments at home."

Dave stared at their hands. For some reason, it left him no comfort. It made him more uneasy than being pulled on a leash.

"Thank you Marco. Take yourself out a considerable tip when you remove the cash for these." Kurt sounded extremely pleased. Soon the cart that had been brought out was filled with bags of clothing, that Dave kept eying curiously. Was that for him? . . . Why would it be for him? He didn't remember having anything better than what he was wearing right now. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, to be some pampered boy's pet. Meant he got pampered too, right? He made a small face to himself though. The idea of being 'pampered' was a strange thought.

"In the car, David." Kurt instructed, letting go of his hand as he went around to the drivers side. Dave gave the vehicle a weary look, like he thought it might start moving when he opened the door, sitting himself in the back seat. Only to hear a laugh.

"No. Get up here, sit beside me. If I wanted to have a lack of company I wouldn't have purchased you. Come up here farm boy. Sit next to me," Kurt ordered.

"I'm sorry." Dave said very quickly, getting out from the back and moving to the front as he was told to. Looking embarrassed and confused as he sat down. Farm boy. . . Kurt didn't appear angry or anything at least.

"It's fine. We're going to have to work on some of your training," Kurt replied with a small amount of contempt. "But I should have expected that anyway."

Dave put his head down at the mention of more training. Which he expected, really. New environment, new Master? Meant new rules. That was scary. He'd gone by the same rules for years. Had routine. Knew what was expected of him. Now he was to be given new training by this man.

"Carry these," Kurt ordered once they arrived and the trunk was popped. "And when we get inside you stand right in the doorway. Don't set a foot on my carpet, it was just installed and it's highly expensive and I won't find pleasure in dirt being on it. Understand?"

Dave looked a tad confused, but he nodded anyway. "Yes, Master." He agreed, curling his toes a little bit against the ground. "I understand."

Kurt led him upstairs to the high rise apartment, only leaving Dave behind once they reached the door. He soon returned with a socks in his hand, passing them to Dave. "Put these on and you may come inside."

Dave put down the bags he'd been holding in order to accept the socks. Only to give them a weird look, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. He finally put them on his feet, though not paying attention to how, just. . . on. Point was to cover his feet, so that's what he did. Kurt gave him a smile. "Come now."

Kurt lead Dave inside, the apartment looking classy and pristine. Everything seemed to have it's place. Except Dave. Dave just felt like he didn't belong in here. Like he would taint it. Not that he hadn't been inside a nice home before, his old master had an estate. But this looked so different. Classy and modern. New.

Soon they were in the bathroom where Kurt turned to look at Dave, giving him a once over before asking, "Do you know how to bathe?"

"Yes, I do." Dave took no offense by the question. It was actually a legitimate one asked of slaves.. He hadn't been allowed to bathe very often at his old home. He was mostly outside and slept in a small housing just for slaves. Has master had only let him bathe when he needed him inside for a job. "Would you like me to now, Master?"

"Yes, I would. I need you to do so quickly, make sure all of the dirt is gone and that you smell nice." Kurt set the clothes he wanted Dave to wear on the sink then slipped out of the bathroom. "Hurry."

Dave began to take off his old clothes, putting it aside in a pile. Not folding it. But still not just throwing the clothes on the floor, either. Then he quickly got himself clean, assuming he could use what was in the shower to wash himself and his hair. Though trying to be quicker more than thorough, keeping in mind the 'hurry' from his Master. He got out, dried himself off then picked up the clothes, peering at them like they were something extraordinary before putting them on. They were much nicer than anything he'd been offered before. They felt strange on him. He kept pulling or adjusting them as he walked out of the bathroom, his feet bare again. But clean! "Finished, Master."

"Those look fantastic on you! I could use you as a model sometime." Kurt quickly got up and made his way over to Dave, adjusting the clothes and looking him over.

"Model. . .? Sir?" Dave looked confused, not wanting to question what his Master wanted of course, but the questioning slipped out anyway.

Kurt slapped his hand. "Yes. Model. Do you not know that word? Don't ask questions without first addressing me in a manner that leads me to believe you want to do so. Understand?"

Dave jerked his hand back in surprise more than anything when Kurt slapped it. Staring at his Master with an odd look across his face. What did he do wrong?

"Now. Since this is your first night here, I'll ask you what you would wish to eat." Kurt stepped back, staring at Dave with an expectant impression.

Do what now? What did he wish to eat? Dave wasn't sure if he'd ever been asked that before.

"Master," He started with that this time, "I get to pick what I eat..?" He asked slowly. He was used to eating whatever was given to him and that was that. And was grateful for it.

"From now on when you wish to ask a question, say Master May I, then wait." Kurt nodded once. "And yes, David. You get to pick your meal on his night and any nights that you behave."

Dave nodded quickly at the instruction, but his eyes narrowed again. The question was difficult for him. What sort of food was there. . .? He tried to think of things his previous master ate. Dave was never in the kitchen, unless to fix something so that wasn't that helpful. He knew of various kinds of food of course, when he was younger, but suddenly it was hard to think of anything when he felt put on the spot.

"I would be grateful for.." Anything. "A steak?" Dave tried, sounded like he was worried it would be the wrong thing to say.

"A steak and? You can't just eat red meat." Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and gave Dave an expectant look. "A salad. I'll just chose for you. I can't wait around to cook all evening. I want you to watch me, alright? I'll expect you to start preparing meals occasionally."

"Yes sir." Dave? Cook? He'd never been expected to cook before. . . But it couldn't be that difficult. Right? Other slaves did it. So, Dave could do it. . . . Right?

Kurt took his hand and tugged him, leading him to the kitchen. "You will clean the mess afterwards, and you will do a good job. Understand? I like things immaculate."

Dave had never done much cleaning either. . . But he would try. He let himself be lead to the kitchen, "Yes, sir. Of course."

"You're a very good boy, aren't you?" Kurt had to praise him as he went into the kitchen and started to gather various things to cook. "Now, watch me carefully. Understand? I don't want you burning the house down when you try to cook on your own."

"Yes sir." Dave's lips twitched in a tiny smile at being a good boy. Then instantly narrowed his eyes when Kurt looked away. Urg. Felt even more like a dog.

Good boy. . .

Kurt prepared the steaks with Dave hovering over his shoulder the entire time. Dave was always one who was eager to please. Eager to learn when he was given the chance. Then be able to use that new knowledge to make his Master happy, be useful. It was his purpose in life, after all.

Once everything was started Kurt showed Dave how to make a really good salad. Well, Dave though it looked really good. "Eat up and tell me when that oven beeps. I'm going to go get changed."

Dave paused once he was left with a salad, looking at it briefly like it was some kind of strange alien dish before actually eating any. And it was good. Really good. Simple as it was, it actually had flavor to it. Something fruity. He sighed out a soft noise after the first bite then ate the rest of his salad so fast it was like he thought it was going to get up and run away from him. Not exactly Mr. Manners.

Dave didn't even hear his Master come back into the kitchen, stuffing the last bite into his mouth happily. "I'm taking it that the salad was good?" Kurt ruffled a hand through Dave's hair, only to stop and grip it, murmuring, "You have thick hair."

"Yes. . ." Dave began to answer, only to pause, eyes closing for a few seconds when Kurt's fingers went into his hair to ruffle it. He opened his eyes though at the comment, looking at Kurt slowly. "Does it. . . please you, Master?"

"Yes, it does." Kurt's voice was still distant, playing with Dave's hair a few seconds longer. He stepped away after that, giving Dave a lingering look. "Has the oven beeped yet?"

Did it? Dave hadn't noticed in his ravaging his salad.

"I. . . No. Sir." Dave went with that, though it was obvious he was uncertain.

Kurt stared at him for long moment. Then he glanced at the clock on the stove. "Two minutes left. I gave you a simple order. Sound more sure next time or I'll assume you were slacking." He tapped his hand with a slap again. Dave pulled back when he was smacked, even if just on his hand, giving Kurt a long look as his Master continued to speak. "I won't even have to buy a crop if you're exceptionally well behaved, keep that in mind, David."

"Yes sir. I'm sorry." He grumbled, the mention of a crop and punishment making him go tense, which had an effect on his tone.

"Good boy." Kurt smiled at him and then bent down to take care of the steaks since they were finished. He settled the plate down in front of Dave. "Blow, it's hot."

Dave relaxed at the smile given to him and stared at Kurt, watching what he did. When the food was set in front of him, he got another look of wonder. He was eating. . . With his Master? City people were so damn strange! But from the smell of the meat, Dave couldn't really complain. It smelled amazing.

"Thank you, Master." Dave forked a small bite, blowing on it as instructed before putting it in his mouth. And felt like he was going to melt at how good it tasted. Okay. He could deal with being 'pampered' if it meant this. Good God. Dave started eating as fast as he could, not even fully cutting his steak, just biting into it. Which earned him an odd, disdainful look from Kurt, but no comments.

"You might have to finish my steak for me. Red meat makes me feel like I gained five pounds and stuffed socks in all of my arteries." Kurt stuck mainly to the sides of the meal, only eating a few pieces of his own steak.

"I'm sorry. . . I'll pick something else next time you wish to cook."

Kurt looked at Dave and then his eyebrows knitted. "Listen to me. When I ask you what you want, you tell me what you want. If I have a problem I'll just say no. Now, hurry up. This house needs to be spotless tomorrow, I'm having a dinner party."

Dave ducked his head, feeling a little confused, but nodded anyway. "Yes."

He finished eating when Kurt told him to, bites getting even bigger. He didn't care about savoring, he just wanted to make sure it wasn't taken away from him. Then glanced at Kurt after swallowing his final bite, "Is-" He cut himself off, remembering what Kurt had said and took a breath. "...Master. May I ask you something?"

Uhg. What he was reduced to?

"Yes you may."

"Is tomorrow Master's birthday?" Dave asked curiously when he was given permission. He remembered Kurt saying something about a birthday party at that store.

"Oh, no no. Silly boy. My birthday is today." Kurt nodded some. " You were a gift, my darling assistant Kimi paid for you, actually. She's been a good friend these past few years. Met her in college!" Kurt let out a short little laugh. "I turned twenty-one! Can you believe it?"

Today was his birthday. And Dave was a gift? There was a slightly warm feeling at that. Kurt had picked him out personally as a birthday present, above anyone else. Huh. . .

"When you wash these, make sure you get every speck off. I actually have a folio to finish right now, so. Make sure you clean up perfectly. Go about your cleaning, don't bug me unless it's very important." Kurt stood, wiping his hands off, looking at Dave expectantly before Kurt was gone, grabbing a large folder that had designs on it and a bunch of papers inside.

Dave ended up washing dishes, the ones they ate on and the ones they'd cooked with, making sure to get them clean in the sink. Only to put them in the dishwasher, which he gave kind of an odd look before closing it, without putting any soap in, and started it. He stepped back, looking at it as it started up then nodded once, that taken care of, and looked around. There was a tiny mess on the counter. Not much, Kurt had been tidy as he prepared the food. So Dave just wiped clean that part with a paper towel. That left him with. . . He had no idea. Maybe that was all? That didn't take long.

Dave quietly as he could ended up wandering out into the living room, looking around curiously at various objects, paintings on the walls, licking his lips. Which apparently got Kurt's attention. "What are you doing? Go look at things elsewhere. Is that kitchen perfect? If I walk in there once I'm finished and it isn't, you will be punished."

Dave was looking up at a painting when he stopped and turned his head quickly, hearing his Master's voice. "Sorry, sir." He backed up some, glancing towards the hall, then back to Kurt. "Yes." Well. Dave thought it was clean. It looked clean. Meant it was clean. How things worked.

Then he wandered off, down a hallway. Elsewhere, as Kurt had said. He tried to keep his hands to himself as he looked around, curious at everything. Especially a grand bookcase in a room, Kurt's room, Dave guessed. It had all sorts of things on it, not just books, and he looked at them with puzzled interest. Just tempting Dave to pick them up and inspect them.

"David! In here, pronto! You take longer than ten seconds and you will regret it!"

Dave had lifted his hand and was touching at a small statue. Only to yank back suddenly, hearing Kurt's loud, chipped voice ring out. Well shit. What'd he do? Dave huffed but went to the kitchen. "Yes, Master?"

"Look at this mess. What exactly were you thinking? There's no SOAP in this dishwasher? The counter is AWFUL it's STICKY? I told you to clean. You lied to me, David! You did a TERRIBLE job. You look. Look here. And get it right!"

Dave winced at that shrill voice yelling at him, it making his head hurt. But. . . What? He'd cleaned the dishes before putting them in the washer, so why did it matter? "I'm sorry. . ." He breathed out, hunching up his shoulders. Then swallowed, "Yes sir. I'm sorry, Master." He repeated, though looked annoyed more than apologetic. He thought he'd done just fine.

"Wipe that look off your face." Kurt folded his arms and glared up at Dave. "See that soap? Take it. Open that cap there and pour it in. Then close the cap, shut the washer door and start it. Understand? Do it right now."

Dave tried to relax his face but his eyebrows stayed knitted downward. Even so he went forward and did what Kurt told him, putting the liquid soap into the washer then closing it and started it again. "Like that, Master?"

"Yes like that. Now put soap on a clean rag and wipe off the whole counter and the stove. Do it properly this time, and then I want you in the living room and on the couch." Kurt left him alone after that, glaring as he stalked out.

"Right. . ." Dave growled under his breath as soon as Kurt had left the kitchen. But he did do as he was told, washing off the entire counter and the stove top with a rag. Then wiped it dry before going out to the living room as he was instructed, over to the couch and laid on it, face down, crossing his arms against a cushion and laying his chin against them, waiting.

"I don't have anything else, therefore you're going to have to deal with it." Kurt's voice suddenly rang out. Dave looked up as Kurt slapped a ruler lightly against his own wrist and gave the other man a little, almost apologetic smile.

"Yes sir." He grumbled, laying still. A part of him couldn't believe he was doing this. Kurt was smaller. Dave could overpower him. Probably. But he had to remind himself, he had no choice in the matter. Which stung more than the actual punishment probably would.

"Up. Lay across my lap," Kurt instructed as he sat down beside Dave and prodded the ruler into the back of his leg. "I'm too tired to stand." He sniffed disdainfully and smacked the ruler down lightly below Dave's backside.

Dave jerked away from the smack against the back of his legs, a hand clenching into the couch. Was he serious? He couldn't be serious.

Oh. He was serious.

Dave pushed himself up, making himself keep his eyes down and away from Kurt, because he knew if he looked at him it would only bring him more trouble. Looking so defiant. He did as told though, slowly laying over Kurt's legs, then went still again. One arm laying over the edge of the couch, hand brushing the floor, the other arm curled to himself.

Dave waited, feeling anxious, staring at the fabric of the couch while nothing happened. Just total silence. Then jerked forward, dragging himself against Kurt's lap when the ruler finally hit him, right across his ass. It didn't feel good, there was a sting, but it was the surprise of not knowing when it was going to happen that made him flinch like he did. Even so he let out a long breath through his teeth, hissing it out and tensed, fingers gripping at the carpet.

"Count for me," Kurt said, laying a hand against the small of Dave's back before suddenly twacking him again.

"Rrrh. . . Two." Dave huffed out when the ruler hit him again.

"Good boy."

Three." Dave's voice was low when Kurt hit him again, but he tried to sound docile as he could, leaning his head against the couch. This was a first for him, being punished in this sort of way. It was better than the whips in the sense of far less pain. But this was embarrassing. Being bent over someone's leg and spanked with a ruler? He felt humiliated.

Dave heard Kurt sniff a little indignantly and was whacked again, this one harder.

"Four."

Then again, harder than the last, making Dave's hips canter against Kurt's lap with a grunt. "Five." Though, when he did that, he noticed something was poking him slightly in the leg. He didn't know what it was however. Kurt spoke before Dave could think very long about it.

"You're done," Kurt said a little airily, his hand resting on Dave's backside, giving a couple pats. Which just made Dave feel even more shamed, wanting nothing else but to crawl away to a corner and hide.

"Thank you, Master. . ." Dave said softly, though was frowning. Thanking for punishment, especially for something humiliating as that, made him feel even worse. "Can I get up?"

Kurt slapped his ass with his hand. "You're welcome. What do you say before questions?"

Dave flinched, clenching his teeth to keep himself from back talking. "Yes, sir. Sorry. May I get up?"

"Yes. Get up. I need to go to bed. You'll be sleeping on the couch." Kurt nudged at Dave to get him off his lap. Dave got up, his face a little red and eyes cast down, head turned slightly away as he took a step back away from Kurt.

Kurt got up and brushed his pants down. "You can grab blankets from the linen closet in the hallway. Make sure you get up at five a.m, put them away, and start my coffee."

Kurt brushed past Dave after that. Dave narrowing his eyes at the back of his new Master's head as the other walked away. Then he let out a sigh as soon as Kurt was gone.

Whatever, he was exhausted. So he grabbed himself a blanket and then curled up on the couch, after giving it a glare like it had done something wrong. Caused his punishment.

However, Dave fell asleep quickly, glad for a blanket and a soft place to sleep if he was honest with himself. And he was full of good food. Which lead to a pretty fine nights sleep, arm curled tightly around one of the couch pillows, the blanket slipping off of him through the night, tangled around his legs.

Maybe it wasn't so bad.