A/N: First things first. If you are just now stumbling across this fic, you should probably know that it's a continuation of another story. It would probably be good for you to read the prequel, "Made for Each Other," which you can find on my profile page. Short summary if you don't want to read it (though I still think you should, for valuable backstory, etc.): In a world where people are born Dominant or submissive, Blaine and Kurt's parents arranged for them to be bonded to one another when they came of age. MFEO describes everything that happened on the first night they spent together, and the sequel begins the morning after.

For those of you here who have stuck with me since MFEO, hello/welcome back! I hope you enjoy the tale of Blaine and Kurt's developing partnership. There will be fluff, angst, smut, drama, new characters, new POVs, and all sorts of fun things. I will provide warnings per chapter to the best of my ability.

Enjoy! :)

Kurt was the first to stir beneath the dark blankets. His basement bedroom was void of windows. There were no sunbeams streaming down from the heavens on the pair of sleeping boys after their night of consummation. The walls were far too thick for them to make out the sound of cheerful birdsong. From what Kurt could tell, it might as well still be nighttime, but a single glance at the digital clock on his bedside table alerted him that it was morning—well into the morning, actually. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept this late, but to be fair, he couldn't recall the last time he'd stayed up so late either.

Blaine's arms were still securely wrapped around his body. Kurt settled back against the bed, tucked against his Dom's chest. The curly haired teen was still snoozing, mouth ajar as he breathed. Kurt could just make out a strand of dried drool on his cheek. He smiled at the sight, letting his eyes close once more. His forehead pressed comfortably into the bend of Blaine's neck. In this position, he could feel the Dom's pulse against his face, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling the sub into a quiet doze. Though he never returned to a completely unconscious state, Kurt drifted in and out of awareness, perfectly content to let the day pass them by. It was cozy and warm here. The room would stay dark, and they had no obligations to rise for. As long as Blaine wanted to stay, Kurt would remain in his arms.

A measure of time later, Blaine finally awoke when his stomach gave a ferocious growl, loud enough that Kurt was unable to fight back a snort of laughter. He tried to muffle his giggles with one hand as he ducked his head. The Dom yawned beside him, and again, his stomach announced that it was empty.

"Wha's so funny?" Blaine slurred, voice heavy with sleep.

"Your stomach," Kurt responded, glancing up at him with an amused expression, "You sound hungry."

"Does that surprise you?" the Dom smirked back, rubbing his eyes, "If I'm remembering correctly, last night was quite action-packed. It would make sense that we'd both be starving by now."

"Do you like pancakes, Sir?"

"Who doesn't like pancakes?"

"I can make us some for breakfast, if you want," Kurt glanced back at the clock, "Um, well. I could make them for brunch, at least."

"That sounds delicious," Blaine's stomach rumbled as if in agreement, and both boys chuckled as they finally untangled their limbs and tossed back the blankets. The Dom was the first to get to his feet, turning on a light and stretching with a groan. Kurt eyed his rippling back muscles as he moved to follow him toward the bathroom. The moment he stood and attempted his first step of the day, Kurt gasped in pain, his eyes squeezing shut. Everything was sore. Blaine immediately returned to his side.

"Do you need to lie back down?" he asked, brushing the boy's shoulder with a gentle hand, "Really, it's okay."

"No, I'll be fine," Kurt insisted, "I just need to move a bit. I think it got worse because I was still for so long." Blaine accepted the response with a nod but stayed close while Kurt hobbled on toward the bathroom, wincing with every step. Though he felt bad knowing the boy was suffering, the Dom couldn't completely squash the feeling of satisfaction. The sub was entirely his. Every time Kurt moved for at least the next week, he'd be reminded of Blaine's dominance. Eventually the bruises would fade, and the sore muscles would heal, but the message would stick. Kurt would not forget his place; Blaine wouldn't allow it, and he could always remind the boy if necessary.

While Kurt brushed his teeth, Blaine settled for some mouthwash, wishing he'd planned better for spending a night away from home. When their morning breath had been defeated, the Dom immediately tilted his head up for a kiss, forcing their lips together. The sub granted his tongue access before he'd even requested it, and Blaine eagerly pressed forward. Cold, minty flavors enhanced the contact. He felt Kurt shiver as he pulled away with a contented sigh, "Mmm, I almost want to have you for breakfast instead," he purred, nipping the pale neck. Kurt moaned softly, sliding his hands over Blaine's hips while the Dom gave him another hickey to add to the growing collection of marks painted across his skin.

It took all of his strength to resist temptation and step back. Blaine could feel the threat of arousal starting to spread through him. He knew if he continued teasing, their meal would be forgotten. Truthfully, he'd love nothing more than to pin the boy's aching body against the wall and have his way with it, but the last thing Kurt needed right now was rough handling. He needed time to relax and recover. Blaine would have to be patient. He'd get him naked and desperate again soon enough.

The Dom's stomach growled again. Kurt grinned, tracing a finger down his abdomen, along the thin trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of Blaine's sweatpants. "Those pancakes aren't going to cook themselves, Sir." Blaine raised an eyebrow at Kurt's confident touch, smirking. Somehow he even managed to make cooking breakfast sound sexy and seductive. The perfect sub.

"Lead the way, beautiful." Kurt turned on his heel and stepped back into the bedroom. It was slow progress up the stairs, but Blaine was patient, following close behind to make sure he didn't stumble. When they reached the kitchen, Kurt gestured for Blaine to take a seat at the table. "Want me to help?" the Dom asked.

"I can handle it," Kurt assured, "I've made pancakes more times than I can count. Sore muscles aren't going to stop me." Blaine settled back in his chair, watching as Kurt moved about the room, pulling out an assortment of dishes and ingredients. He stopped near the table to pour a glass of orange juice, handing it to Blaine with a smile. While he turned back toward the stove, the Dom gave him a playful tap on the ass, and the boy's toes curled against the tile floor.

Burt Hummel was about two blocks from pulling into his driveway. He'd checked out of a local hotel over an hour ago and had been procrastinating on his return home since. Even though it was Sunday and his auto mechanic shop was closed, he'd stopped by just to make sure there were no customers with emergency car trouble. He'd finally accepted that there was no use in prolonging the inevitable, and he'd started the drive back to his house.

Having hardly slept during the night, Burt was feeling pretty tired, but even through his sleepy haze the middle-aged man realized that he was still worried to walk through his own front door. What would he find when he did? He trusted that Anderson kid; he came from a good family. He knew Kurt would be treated fairly, but it was still an incredibly unnerving situation. What if Kurt had been terrified? What if Blaine had turned his son into a different person overnight? Was that possible?

If Blaine turned out to be an abusive Dom, Burt didn't know what he would do. He could fight for custody of Kurt in court, but he'd hardly have a chance of winning the case. However unfair it was, Kurt had very few rights or protections under the law. It wasn't uncommon for subs to be treated cruelly, and the likelihood that a jury would find Kurt's treatment any different or worth removal from Blaine's care was not good. Another issue would be the fact that Kurt and Blaine's partnership had been arranged since childhood. Having made the agreement with Blaine's parents years ago ruined almost any chance Burt had to get his son back if things took a turn for the worse.

Burt pushed the disheartening thoughts away as he turned onto their residential street. Blaine had promised to treat Kurt with respect. The idea of trusting another teenager with his son's life was crazy, but he had to have faith. He pulled into the drive and parked the car, taking a deep breath before stepping out onto the pavement. Straightening his baseball cap, he made his way up the porch and unlocked the door, quietly entering the house. Immediately, the smell of pancakes wafted his way. So they were awake. He steeled himself and walked down the hall toward the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to take in the sight.

The first thing he noticed was how utterly domestic the scene appeared—it almost felt like he was invading their privacy by watching. Blaine was turned sideways in his chair, looking on at Kurt, who was busy pouring batter into a pan. They were both shirtless. Burt's breath caught in his throat as he looked closer at his son's back. Even from across the room, he could clearly see that the pale skin was covered in bruises and welts. It looked like he'd been mugged.

"Hey, boys," he greeted, trying for a casual tone. Blaine turned toward the voice, and Kurt immediately spun to face him, a brilliant smile on his face. Well, he certainly looked happy. That was a good sign.

"Dad!" Burt felt a pang of sadness as he watched his son approach, an obvious, painful limp in his step. Though he'd been expecting Kurt to be a little worse for wear, it was still hard to take in. Closing the rest of the distance in a few strides, he reached out and pulled him in for a hug, though he kept his grip loose, not wanting to cause any more unnecessary pain.

"Hi, kiddo."

"I'm making pancakes, Dad," Kurt announced, "Do you want some?" He paused, bit his lip, and turned to the curly haired teen at the table, "Can he stay and eat with us, please, Sir?" He'd heard Kurt use the title last night during the ceremony, but it was still a bit of a shock. Though it was comforting to know he still had enough confidence to ask Blaine a direct question, even if it was odd to hear him begging for permission to eat breakfast with his own father. At least he hadn't been transformed into a completely helpless creature, groveling at his Dom's feet.

"Of course he can," Blaine told him. He then addressed Burt directly, a warm smile on his face, "I'm not going to tell you to have a seat in your own home, Mr. Hummel."

"Call me Burt," he replied, sitting across from him. Blaine's hazel eyes carefully followed Kurt as he limped back to the stove before refocusing on the man in front of him.

"Burt," Blaine said with a nod, "I need to thank you for your hospitality. I know a lot of the material things were required by the arrangement and all, but it doesn't make me any less appreciative of everything you provided."

His gratitude took Burt by surprise, "Oh, uh, you're welcome. I hope everything… I hope everything went well." What was he supposed to say?

"Last night was wonderful, if I do say so myself." Kurt appeared beside him, setting down two plates piled high with hot pancakes, "What'd you think about last night, beautiful?" Blaine asked with a smirk. Kurt blushed immediately—too embarrassed to say anything in front of me, Burt thought—but grinned back, dropping his head to hide his face, nuzzling into the Dom's curls. Blaine laughed quietly and reached up to stroke his cheek before Kurt slipped from his grasp and moved back to grab his own plate from the counter, stopping by the fridge to pull out maple syrup before taking a seat beside Blaine.

The trio ate in silence for a few minutes. "You're a wonderful cook, Kurt," Blaine observed between bites, adding with a cheeky grin, "My stomach is happy." Kurt covered his mouth in a desperate attempt to hold in his laughter. He swallowed down his bite and finally let out a few giggles and words of gratitude. They seemed joined at the hip already, both leaning in to be closer to one another, whether they realized it or not. Kurt looked at Blaine like he was the sun, and the moon, and the stars. Blaine's gaze was possessive, but not in a wicked way. There was an excited gleam in his eye, like a kid with a new toy on Christmas morning, but Burt could see genuine fondness in his expression. It was reassuring.

When they'd all finished eating, Blaine stood from the table. "I need to run home for a few minutes," he announced, "Get a change of clothes and all that."

"Your parents dropped off your car here last night," Burt told him, "It's out front."

"Oh, good. I was hoping I wouldn't have to call them for a ride," Blaine left the room, heading back toward the basement. In under a minute, he'd returned, wearing his maroon shirt and horribly wrinkled slacks from the night before, his black skinny tie draped over his arm.

"You don't have to leave," Kurt spoke up, "You can wear my clothes."

"They don't quite fit, unfortunately. You're a bit taller than me," Blaine replied with a soft smile, walking back over to him, "I won't be gone long, though. I'm sure you'd love talking with your dad for a while anyway, huh?" Kurt nodded, a small smile appearing on his face, and Blaine brushed a thumb across the edge of his lips, "There you go, beautiful. I'll be back soon." Burt watched his son tilt his head back to receive the kiss pressed to his forehead, a little stunned by the tenderness in Blaine's voice. His tone was unmistakably condescending, clearly illustrating his role as the Dominant partner, but it was also incredibly gentle and full of care. Kurt was visibly comforted, though his expression became slightly forlorn as he watched Blaine's retreating form, blue eyes lingering on the kitchen doorway long after the vehicle had driven away and the sound of its engine faded into silence.

When Blaine pulled up in front of his house he practically flew out of his dark green station wagon, jogging up the sidewalk to let himself in. Even though they had years and years to spend together, he wanted to get back to Kurt as soon as possible. "Mom, Dad, it's me!" he called out down the hallway. While passing the living room, the teen's parents caught his attention. He quickly detoured from the course to his bedroom and went up to them, twirling his tie through the air. "Hey."

"We didn't expect you back so early," his mom said, "Did you bring Kurt?"

"No," Blaine replied, "I just came to get some stuff—change of clothes, toothbrush—but I'm heading back to his house in a few minutes. I would've let him tag along, but he's really tired. I didn't want to wear him out any more than necessary."

"So how was last night?" his dad asked, "Everything go okay?"

Blaine smiled widely, "It was amazing. I didn't realize he was so inexperienced; it just never crossed my mind. I could tell he was nervous, but he still did everything I asked. He was so well-behaved and so good for me, Dad. It was really, really great. He enjoyed himself too." Ordinarily, Blaine would feel awkward discussing anything even remotely sexual with his parents, but the previous night had been so much more than the physical act. It was a milestone in Blaine's life. He knew his parents were genuinely hopeful that he would be content with his new submissive. They wanted justification, a confirmation that making the arrangement had been a good idea on their part.

"We're happy for you, son," Mr. Anderson smiled from his chair.

"And for Kurt," Mrs. Anderson added, "He's lucky to have you."

"We're both lucky," Blaine corrected, then after a moment, in a softer voice, "Dad, I'm sorry I stayed angry at you for so long because of this. I… I should've had more trust in your judgment." He'd spent years of his life nursing resentment against the man for arranging his future. Blaine couldn't count how many times he'd glared in his direction, how many times he'd rebelled just to make him upset. It made him sick to his stomach to consider it all now. If his dad hadn't made the agreement with Kurt's father, last night would have never happened. That beautiful boy would never have worn his collar.

"It's okay, Blaine. You had every right to be upset."

"I still feel like I owe you an apology."

Mr. Anderson dropped his newspaper onto the table and got to his feet, approaching Blaine with an arm outstretched. "Apology accepted," he said, looking down at his son through thin-framed glasses. Blaine nodded and firmly shook his hand, surprised when the older man pulled him in for a quick hug. His father had always maintained an incredibly formal appearance, even around the house. It wasn't that he didn't love his family; he just wasn't the best at openly, affectionately showing it. He cleared his throat awkwardly, "Better hurry back to your boy."

Blaine stepped away with a smile, muttering a quick, "Thanks, Dad," before heading back out into the hallway and making a beeline for the stairs. He climbed them two at a time, already working to unbutton his shirt as he darted into his bedroom. After changing into a pair of blue jeans and a casual tee-shirt with a logo from some blockbuster movie that had come out a few years ago, Blaine dug out a backpack from his closet.

He wasn't entirely sure how long he'd be spending away from home. He wanted to give Kurt some time to recover and adjust to his role before they even started discussing his inevitable move to the Anderson residence. His sub would probably want him around as much as possible, and Blaine couldn't deny that he wanted spend time together as well. Blaine knew he wanted to share a bed with him again tonight, maybe even again on Tuesday. He'd pack a few changes of clothes, just to be safe. After stuffing in a few shirts, underwear, socks, and some sweatpants, he went to the bathroom to get his toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, and other essentials, piling them on top.

Throwing the backpack over his shoulder, Blaine hurried back down the stairs to the living room. "I'm not sure when I'll get back," he told his parents, "I wanna make sure Kurt's doing okay, and I don't really want to leave him alone…so I might be gone a few days."

"That's fine, dear. Just keep us updated," his mother advised, "Text or call when you get a chance, okay?"

"I will."

After cleaning up the dishes in the kitchen, Kurt and his dad had relocated to the living room, sitting side-by-side on the couch. Kurt felt a little awkward without a shirt on, but Blaine hadn't given him permission to get dressed yet. Burt had quickly started up a conversation, their talk gradually tilting toward the subject of Blaine and how Kurt felt about the previous night.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Burt asked, "I mean, obviously you're hurt," he gestured to the countless marks, "but it wasn't…it wasn't like that, was it?"

"It wasn't like what, Dad? He didn't beat me or anything, if that's what you're afraid of," Kurt replied, unsure of the question.

"He wasn't abusive," Burt clarified.

Kurt was stunned by his father's suspicions. Sure, he looked pretty bad, but he'd always bruised easily. "I know you probably don't want to hear the details," he began, "but last night… He took care of me. He made sure I was okay. He always told me what was happening and asked how I was feeling. He gave me plenty of water to drink. It was intense, and some of it did hurt, but it was all in a good way, I guess? Before we went to sleep, he gave me a bath. And h-he told me I was good—that I was his, and I was a good boy, and," Kurt paused to collect himself, squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds, "I know it's only been one day. I know there's so much more to it than the first night, but... Even though I was afraid, he made me feel safe. He made me feel wanted." Only then did Kurt realize his hand had absentmindedly reached up to stroke his collar, "He calls me beautiful, Dad. I'm not just a thing to him."

"As long as you're happy," Burt sighed, draping an arm over his son's back, "That's all I've ever wanted." Kurt leaned into his side, fingers still fondling the leather around his neck.

"I am," he assured, "Blai—Sir has been nothing but good to me. I'm… I'm glad to be his."

As if on cue, the sound of the front door opening reached Kurt's ears. In a sight reminiscent of the evening before, Blaine stepped into the room, hazel eyes immediately locking on the sub's face. "Let's get you in some proper clothes," he said, "Then we can figure out what we'll do with the rest of our day." Burt gave him a pat on the back as Kurt eagerly got to his feet and limped to Blaine's side, taking his hand. The pair made their way back down to Kurt's bedroom. Blaine sat on the bed while the boy searched through his dresser and closet, trying to decide on an outfit.

"So what do you want to do today, beautiful?" the Dom asked, his voice casual.

"Whatever you want to do, Sir," Kurt replied honestly, shedding his nightwear and pulling on a clean pair of pants. They had a looser fit than he would've preferred, but he didn't think his sore muscles could take the constriction of skinny jeans right now, regardless of how good they made his ass look.

"Well, we could watch a movie, play some board games, talk about anything and everything. Um… You could give me another blowjob," Kurt's cheeks colored pink as he pulled a shirt over his head. Blaine chuckled, "We could…" His voice faded into silence, and the Dom stared toward the ceiling, eyes squinting as he thought. Kurt climbed up onto the mattress to join him, biting his lip in equal concentration.

"We could stay in bed and cuddle all day long," the sub suggested with a smile, flopping down onto the sheets. He rolled onto his back and set his head on his Dom's thigh.

"We could do that," Blaine agreed, running a hand through Kurt's hair, "Or we could go for a walk."

"A walk? Y-you mean outside?" Kurt felt his eyes go wide.

"Yeah," Blaine smiled down at him, "We could go take a walk outside. I know you haven't ever really spent much time away from here, huh?"

Kurt shook his head in response, feeling his heart start to race with anticipation, "Could we, please, Sir?" he asked, scrambling back up on his knees, "Can we go now?"

"Let's go," Blaine reached out to stroke his thigh, sliding off the bed.


"Yeah, come on!" Kurt searched his Dom's face, looking for any sign that he was lying. Going outside with him seemed too good to be true, but Blaine's expression was genuine. There was a gleam of excitement in his eyes, and Kurt quickly moved to join him, yelping in surprise when the ground was swept out from under him. He wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck as the Dom carried him up the basement stairs. When they reached the landing, Blaine lowered him back to his feet. "You good?" he asked.

"Mhmm," Kurt steadied himself and scurried back to the living room with Blaine on his heels. "Dad!" Burt looked up from the television, "Dad, we're going outside!" he announced, the pitch of his voice higher than normal, "We're going on a walk, and I don't have to worry about anyone hurting me."

Kurt's excitement was infectious, but his words gave Blaine pause. It was sad enough that he'd hardly ever been able to leave the house. It was worse that he'd been unable to simply because it wasn't safe without the ownership of a Dom. Blaine was glad he could offer Kurt the protection he needed, though he marveled at the irony of the situation. By fully surrendering their personal freedom, subs actually seemed to gain more societal freedom. Though, of course, their Doms then had the power to dictate that as well…

Blaine couldn't understand why anyone would ever want to completely strip a submissive of their already restricted liberties. As Kurt's Dom, he felt an obligation to make him happy, not trapped. He watched with an unfailing smile as his boy's face lit up; he looked so young, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Come on, sweetheart," he called from the doorway. Kurt said a quick goodbye to his dad and hurried to Blaine's side. "Ready to go?" Kurt nodded, reaching out to take Blaine's hand. The Dom held it in a firm grip as he turned the doorknob. Summer sunlight streamed into the entryway, and the two teens stepped out across the threshold.

Yay, Chapter One! As always, reviews rock my world. :)