Hello everyone! I haven't written fanfiction in a long while, but I've decided to start up again with Glee. This was inspired by a post on the Glee kink meme. I don't think I can post the link to the prompt here, but it basically asked for Dom!Teacher!Blaine and Sub!Student!Kurt.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of its character, etc etc etc.

WARNING: This story is not for everyone. It features a Total Power Exchange relationship, which is 24/7 D/s. If that's not your thing, then please consider that before you start to read this.

I'll be honest, I'm as eager to get to the smut as everyone else is, but I'm starting it out slowly because I really want to explore the trust between them and the way they grow and set up their relationship. (Of course, that doesn't mean I can't allow for some… exciting… dreams in the mean-time ;) ) So here goes! Please feel free to let me know if there's anything you'd like to see happen, or if there's something about my characterizations or writing that you'd like me to improve upon. Constructive criticism is very welcome, as are reviews! So here goes.

Humming to himself, Kurt Hummel gazed critically at his reflection in the mirror he had precariously perched on his locker shelf. Despite the weeks and myriad amounts of birthday money he had invested in perfecting his new back-so-school hairstyle, a lock had still fallen out of his meticulously styled quiff. His delicate fingers gently wrapped around the runaway strand, carefully shaping it back into a perfect wave until it blended in with the rest of his hair.

Moving his hips slightly to the tune he was humming and gathering his books for his last class, Kurt sighed happily. Maybe last year had just been a bad year, a low point in his high school career. His classes had been just fantastic thus far. Mercedes was in his math class, and what she lacked in her understanding of inverse trig functions and integration (because dear Gaga, who the heck even knew what those things were anyway?) she made up for in warmth and well-placed sarcastic comments under her breath. Glee club had been…well… Glee club. Mr. Schue had veered from his Journey obsession, a very welcome change. Rachel and Finn seemed to be still dating, but as always, no one really knew for sure. Rachel of course had her quips and bossy, competitive side running strong, but since he hadn't seen her all summer, it was almost endearing. ALMOST.

But Glee club was where he felt welcome, and having had a wonderful day thus far, Kurt thought that maybe, just maybe, this year would be different. He had a new hairstyle, new clothes, and a new optimism that things would get better. They just had to. And plus, Kurt thought happily, rumor had it that the new teacher for his last class, US History, was hot. Even though he was probably straight, and, let alone, a teacher, someone attractive to look at would definitely be a welcome addition to Kurt's day, Kurt thought with a blush, the reason for which he was not entirely sure.

Taking a final glance in the mirror, Kurt shut his locker and shut the lock with a flourish and a flip of his wrist. Still humming to himself, he spun around, bag perched on his shoulder, headed to history with a bounce in his step. And, in a very typical Kurt-like fashion, he ran smack into someone. Pulling away to apologize, he was greeted with a cold, hard, face as before he knew it, red slush had destroyed his immaculately styled hair, running in streams down his face, seeping into his eyes, dribbling onto his new Alexander McQueen shirt.

"Welcome back, fag," Karosky grinned, flipping his wrist in a mockery of Kurt's earlier action and stalking off, leaving Kurt to stand in the hallway, a half smile still frozen on his face in shock, wordlessly watching his bully's retreat.

The red slushie now tracing rivulets down his face, intermingled with tears, Kurt ran to the restroom, ignoring the stares and rubber necks of his all-too-nosy classmates, the hallway turning into a blur of color as he ran into the restroom. Unable to help himself, he let out a choked-up sob as he splashed cold water onto his face and did his best to clean off the shirt. And he had thought this year would be different. But he had little time bemoan his apparently ill-fated junior year. As he quickly worked his fingers to re-style his hair, the bell rang. Wonderful. Now he was late for Mr. Anderson's class, AND he would show up with red-rimmed eyes, his shirt stained.

Kurt quickly grabbed his messenger bag and raced down the hallway to class, arriving heaving at the door, five minutes late. Grasping the handle to open the door, Kurt realized with despair that the handle wouldn't budge. Wonderful. The classroom door was locked.

Peeking through the glass window in an effort to get someone's attention to open the door, Kurt caught sight of Mr. Anderson. And his heart leaped in circles throughout his body, racing down to his toes and running all the way back up, all the way up to his neck where he could swear his heart just stopped. Because damn. He was gorgeous. Supple healthy tan skin practically glowed from the summer's warm , sunny rays peeking through the blinds, his broad back and muscular arms accentuated in a striped short-sleeved dress shirt that was just tight in all the right areas. And those eyes. They lit up as he animatedly gestured and strode across the room, almost bouncing eagerly, genuinely excited as he explained the topics for the course for the year. Kurt was at a distance, but they seemed to be hazel, with beautiful shimmering flecks of gold, and….Shit. Those eyes were now on him, Kurt realized with a start.

Mr. Anderson strode over to the door, opening it and giving Kurt a quick once-over. Kurt could only watch Mr. Anderson with his feet planted to the floor, feeling at once transfixed by his sheer beauty and embarrassed to have been arriving to class so late and so disheveled.

Mr. Anderson quirked a triangular eyebrow at him, his eyes glimmering as he smirked slightly. "Ah, nice of you to join us, Mr…"

"Hummel." And shit, shit, shit, Kurt felt his cheeks heating up despite his attempts to conceal his embarrassment. As Blaine stepped aside and gestured for Kurt to enter the classroom, he caught sight of a few football players smirking at him, though he also noticed Finn's sympathetic smile.

Wordlessly, Mr. Anderson handed Kurt a syllabus, his eyes meeting Kurt's and fingers brushing his ever so gently, ever so subtly, in a way that made his heart race even faster. Kurt began to make his way towards the back of the room to take the empty seat next to his step-brother, hoping that it would be at least less awkward if there were some people between him and his teacher.

"No need to go all the way back there, just take a seat in the front row," Mr. Anderson said, his tone easy and amused yet strangely powerful at the same time.

"Yes, Mr. Anderson," Kurt murmured, stepping back and sitting down in the front row, and he knew, just knew, that his cheeks must have been blazing red by that point.

The rest of the class passed in a blur, Kurt so lost in his own thoughts that he hardly heard what Mr. Anderson was saying. He settled for just letting his thoughts drift as he watched this gorgeous man stride back and forth across the room, clearly excited about the prospects of his class for the year. Kurt was so engrossed in his thoughts that he jumped slightly when the bell rang.

Of course, being Kurt, he took longer than most to gather his supplies, meticulously placing his felt-tip pens back into their proper holders in his messenger bag, ordering his papers neatly to place back into his new folder. Most of the students had left by the time he stood up to leave, and as he was halfway out the door, rushing slightly so he could get out of the parking lot before it got too crowded with students, he heard Mr. Anderson's deep, rich, easy voice calling out behind him.

"Kurt, would you mind staying behind for a few moments?"

Kurt turned around, looking in the direction from which his teacher's voice had come and spotted Mr. Anderson sitting at his desk, reclined slightly in a black leather chair, the corner of his mouth quirked slightly.

"Just come over here," he purred, and Kurt did so, his mind racing. "Now, would you mind telling me what made you so late to class today?"

Looking into Mr. Anderson's eyes, Kurt felt his heart stop yet again. They looked so commanding, so in charge of his classroom, yet at the same time so beautiful, so peaceful, and so, so, gentle. As his teacher's eyes continued to look into his, waiting for an explanation, and Kurt felt oddly vulnerable yet oddly comfortable at the same time. And maybe it was the gentleness in his teacher's eyes that did it, or the fact that Kurt had been through such stress in the past hour with the harsh realization of the fact that things at McKinley weren't about to change, or just the fact that his teacher was so damned beautiful, but before he even knew what was happening, Kurt felt his lower lip quiver and he bit it harshly, attempting to hold back his tears. And , Oh God, he was about to cry in front of his beautiful, perfect teacher.

He brought his eyes back to his teacher's pitifully, frozen in place, not knowing what he needed or how he had even ended up here, nearly in tears in front of this gorgeous, dynamic, man. Mr. Anderson's face softened instantly, eyes laced with compassion, and he rose to pull over a chair next to his desk for Kurt. "Take a seat, if you'd like," he murmured.

Kurt felt his body move into the seat almost of its own accord, trembling slightly as he folded his hands in his lap, his delicate porcelain knuckles white with tension.

"Are you okay, Kurt?" Mr. Anderson asked softly, his voice like a lullaby floating dreamily through the air, settling themselves snugly in Kurt's ears. And in hearing his teacher's rich, gentle voice and kind eyes, Kurt felt inexplicably safe, protected. And once he started talking, he just couldn't stop, almost horrified by how much he was telling Mr. Anderson yet needing comfort, just someone to listen to him, and unable to stop talking.

"I'm so sorry," Kurt choked. "This is so embarrassing. It's just… I've had a rough time at this school so far. I'm sure it's not that hard to figure out, but I'm gay… It's hard being practically the only gay kid in Ohio, it's hard going to school every day not knowing what's going to happen to you, it's hard being slushied every day, it's just…" and the whole story of his day came pouring out until he trailed off pathetically, eyes shifting over the room, vulnerable, ill at ease, and yet comfortable in his teacher's presence, all at once. He didn't even notice the way Mr. Anderson's eyes darkened slightly as he alluded to the bullying.

Kurt felt himself being brought back with a warm hand on his shoulder, and oh. Despite his tears, despite his frustration with the school, with everything he had dealt with… Mr. Anderson's hand was just so strong, tendons outlined slightly in the tan, golden skin. And yet, despite the strength and presence with which he touched him, he was just so gentle that Kurt could start crying all over again, with relief and the feeling of connection with another person and… he couldn't even understand what else.

"It's just so hard, because no one knows what I'm dealing with," Kurt ended pitifully, his wide, gorgeous yet red-rimmed glasz eyes rising sadly, innocently to meet his teacher's warm golden gaze.

"Shhhh, Kurt…" Mr. Anderson smiled softly, looking away for a second as Kurt fought back deep, quivering breaths. "I'm actually gay myself," he said almost nostalgically, chuckling slightly as Kurt's eyes grew even wider, and somehow even more beautiful. "I can't tell you the pain it brought me, or the bullying, but I'm sure you're familiar enough with that that I don't need to," he sighed. "I know there's no magic words I can give you to say, nothing to make your pain go away… but just know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. Anytime. If you need anything or just want to talk." He rubbed Kurt's shoulder slightly before removing his hand, and Kurt swore his heart hurt when the strength and comfort of Mr. Anderson's hand left him.

"Thank you, sir," Kurt said, his voice coming out more evenly and calmly, eyes brightening and losing their dull red sadness.

Mr. Anderson checked his watch. "I'm so sorry, Kurt, but I have a meeting I really need to get to. Are you going to be alright, honey?" He asked. He was already late for the meeting, as a matter of fact, but taking care of Kurt had been more important at the moment.

Kurt nodded, and smiled softly as his teacher took a tissue and gently tabbed at his tears. "Wouldn't want those tears to mask your beautiful face," he whispered gently, the comment feeling inappropriate yet so oddly right to Kurt.

"Stand up, if you would, Kurt," the older man said, and moved to put the chair in the back of the room as he did so. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Anderson. And just…. Just thank you."

"Anytime," he said softly, sweetly, and Kurt smiled genuinely. He walked over to his desk, his manner now a little less gentle and more powerful. "I'm just going to get some things ready for my meeting, so I'll see you tomorrow. Get some sleep, honey. You deserve it. Shut the door on your way out, please."

Kurt nodded, making his way toward the door.

"Oh, and Kurt?"

"Yes, Mr. Anderson?"

"What was the name of the boy you mentioned, the one who slushied you?"

"Karofsky. Dave Karofsky."

"Thank you," Mr. Anderson called, jotting the name down as Kurt left the room.