A.N. This has been sitting on my computer for three years. I've been struggling with real life commitments that writing anything has had to wait, but in the couple of hours downtime I had last night I managed to tap out an ending to this particular one-shot. Hope it leads to more uploads in the future!

A.N. Circa 2015: So this isn't my typical Dark!Blaine attempt, more of a twisted teenage Blaine doing things he shouldn't. This one-shot is based off the TV show Humans and as far as I know it's only aired in the UK so far. You don't need to have watched the show to read this but the plot will help: Set in a world where synthetic humans (realistic humanoid robots) are normal and they pretty much act like servants to people, some distrust the synths, some love having them and treat them well, and there's others who abuse them. There's another side to the story in which a small group of synths are capable of feeling and have free will but for this fic I won't be looking into that though I might if I decide to do a story with human!Kurt and synth!Blaine in which Blaine overrides his programming in order to gain Kurt for his own entertainment. However in THIS story, Blaine is human and his attraction for his family's synth causes him to abuse his power. This is more of a sci-fi dark!Klaine and normally that is not my kind of fiction so I understand if this one doesn't appeal.

Warnings: Very sexually explicit - both within Blaine's mind and later in practise. Swearing. Themes of abuse and rape. Please do not read if any of these has the slightest chance of offending/upsetting you.

This Is Not What I Was Made For

'I'm telling you, this is totally unnecessary,' Blaine grumbled as he followed his parents along the pathway full of Saturday shoppers and their...things.

A couple of feet ahead of him, Mr Anderson frowned but did not turn around. 'I told you if you were going to continue arguing then you should have stayed at home, or at least in the car.' Beside him, his wife winced; she was still unaccustomed to her son voicing an opinion which differed from them. She was also, therefore, also unaccustomed to telling him off – so she didn't.

'I came in the hope that you'd come to your senses,' Their seventeen year old replied. They approached the electric sliding doors of the robotic megastore Persona Synthetics. As his parents walked inside without a second thought, Blaine hesitated. At the entrance stood two individuals: one male and one female. The male was dark skinned with an impeccable buzz cut, dressed in the standard periwinkle blue men's suit. He smiled and gave a small dip of the head as a greeting. The female was pale, though her skin glowed in the artificial light. Her long blonde hair framed her face and the feminine shirt and pants ensemble both covered her body respectfully and hinted at the perfected form underneath. Typical for what they were. She smiled as well and gave an almost-human 'Welcome' which might have fooled anyone who had not been around since their kind's creation. Blaine ignored them both as best as he could, though he could not shake off the discomfort of their eyes: bright green and riddled with specks of silver around their large, black pupils. Blaine was not scared of them by any means, but he was not scared of worms either yet he still did not like them anywhere near him.

Until now, the Anderson household had been synth-free despite most American homes having at least one over the past three years. His father had shared his view that they were more harm than good for mankind but that had changed since his law firm had begun using them as administration tools. Apparently, with the money the company was saving on hiring real people to do a half-decent job, a synth could pay for itself in less than a week with higher success and functionality rates. Suddenly they were less of a nuisance and more of an example on how wonderfully far science had come. And with Mrs Anderson consistently agreeing with her husband, today's shopping list was unavoidable: they were buying a robotic home-help.

The store was large so despite it being busy there was plenty of room to move. Blaine took in the people meeting their synths for the first time, programming and examining them before signing contracts. Every one of those machines stood either powered down appearing to be asleep on their feet or smiling like the greeters at the door. Blaine found his parents conversing with a clerk.

'All our products come fully equipped for your standard housework, first aid, cooking, driving – unless you need something very specific then there's really nothing they can't help with.' The clerk named Philip explained. 'So all I need to know is what kind of aesthetic you're looking for.'

Oh, this should be good...

As the person most likely to be around their purchase, Mrs Anderson bit her lip in childlike excitement as she thought about it. 'A male,' she began. That was to be expected: Blaine's mother was very beautiful but she could not bear the thought of a competing female in her house. 'I have two sons, Blaine here is my youngest but he's growing too fast.' She laughed. 'Do you have one that looks around his age? That way I'll always have a young man to mother-'

'They aren't real, mom,' Blaine cut in despite the humour in Mrs Anderson's voice. He received a stern look from his father.

Philip nodded to her request as if Blaine had not spoken. 'I think I have the perfect one for you.' He turned towards a balding man in overalls who was mending the side of a powered down synth. 'Burt – could you come over here, please?'

Burt wiped away the blue lubrication fluid on his hands and approached them. 'Hey, boss,' He smiled. Though initially Blaine thought he appeared quite gruff, his smile was very gentle and his eyes were kindly.

'Burt, is your 676 model still available?' Philip inquired.

At once, Burt's smile faded and his eyes grew concerned. 'Yes sir, but-'

'Excellent, would you mind running him out here for Mrs Anderson to have a look at?' The clerk spoke over him with ease. Burt looked apprehensively at Blaine and his family. At last, he left without saying anything else.

'Is everything alright?' Mrs Anderson was no spark but even she could sense the tension.

Philip waved it off with a charming grin. 'Oh, Burt is just very proud of his creation. It was his first one and he probably views it like his own personal baby,' Blaine's parents made sounds of understanding and then laughed along with the assistant.

A couple of minutes later, a very unhappy Burt grudgingly wheeled out his 'baby'. 'Oh my – he's beautiful!' Mrs Anderson gasped.

Blaine's knee-jerk reaction of berating his mom by reminding her that it was not a 'he' but rather an 'it' was kicked aside the moment he too laid eyes on it. Designed to look a similar age to Blaine himself, the male was slim and narrow, and wore a smaller set of male clothes to suit this fact. His flawless skin was smooth and creamy pale like the glow of the moon, contrasting with his rich brown locks which looked silky to the touch. His closed eyelids boasted long, black lashes and his pouting lips were a deep shade of dark pink. His features were more defined than the typical synth: his nose was straight and slightly upturned, his cheekbones sharp creating natural light-catching cheeks that would make any make up artist green with envy.

Blaine had to disagree with his mother: this thing was not beautiful...it was perfect. His mind could not fathom a person – real or synthetic – capable of being more stunning than this-this...model. Blaine steeled himself as best he could. It's a robot. It's all wires and plastic, with those ugly green eyes. Philip tapped under the chin where the power sensor was and moments later the body came to life. The shoulders lifted and the head was raised to full height. Its eyes opened. It stared straight ahead where Blaine happened to be standing and the teen's dumbstruck hazel eyes met glasz blue. Instantly Blaine knew that this one was different. This was not like any other synth in the world.

'His eyes...' Mr Anderson mused, peering down in avid interest.

Burt shuffled uncomfortably. 'I found a way to match the eye color of my late-wife. I haven't been able to recreate it since,'

'So it's a one-off!' Philip clapped his hands in delight, 'A speciality from one of our most talented engineers.'

'He is simply beautiful, exactly what I'd like around the house.' Mrs Anderson glowed.

Burt rubbed his hands together and appeared to be straining not to say something. There was something in his stare when he looked to his creation that looked very much like love. Perhaps Philip had been right on the mark when he joked of Burt viewing the machine as his own baby. 'Excellent,' the clerk replied as he pulled out an electronic tablet and passed it to the couple. 'Burt - go collect all of the accessories the Anderson's will need.' The engineer hesitated some more but eventually nodded and walked away. 'I'll go prepare the paperwork and you guys can get started with setting your new synth up.'

Blaine stared at the humanoid that was coming home with them. It had a small, shy smile as it stared off into the distance. Mr Anderson studied the instructions on the tablet menu and began reading out a random assortment of words designed to initiate start up. 'Bluebell. Mountain. Firefly. Nine. Omega.'

The one-of-a-kind synth turned its blue eyes towards Blaine's father and its smile grew a little. 'Hello.' It greeted. For a male, it had a higher vocal tone than was expected. 'I'm now in set-up mode and ready for primary user bonding.' The words were spoken as a song and Blaine stepped forward instinctively.

'I am the primary user,' His father continued reading from the instructions, offering his hand for the synth to take. 'Michael Anderson.' The humanoid took his hand and held it for a few seconds. Blaine had heard about this part: the standard shaking of hands was used as an opportunity for the unit to take a DNA sample from skin cells to allow for greater control over the synth.

'Hello, Michael. It is very nice to meet you.' The thing then continued with more warmth to its voice. Next, Mrs Anderson eagerly took the hand and introduced herself. 'Hello, Pamela. I am very happy to meet you.'

It was then Blaine's turn. 'Blaine Anderson...' He murmured, holding out to shake. The humanoid turned to him and once again those eyes made Blaine's heart skip a beat. The hand slipped into his. It had heat to it, like a real person.

'Hello, Blaine. You are under the age of eighteen and therefore will be viewed as a secondary user. I am very pleased to meet you.'

'It's so warm...' Blaine couldn't help but say as his thumb ran over the 'skin'.

Before his parents could offer up a guess in answer to his statement, the unit gave one nod. 'Along with my sensors, I was also designed with heat generation to accurately provide human-like comforts such as, but not limited to, body heat. If this is displeasing to you, you may simply request I shut down this part of my-'

'No, no, no,' Blaine's mother fussed lightly, still brimming with excitement as her new 'son' turned to her again. 'No need for that.'

'As you wish.' The unit smiled again. 'I am now listed as the property of your family. Would you like to give me a personal name?'

Blaine and his parents looked to one another. Everyone they knew who owned one of these things had given personal names but they had still come without discussing or agreeing on one themselves. Blaine had been so against owning one in the first place, it hadn't occurred to him to even have a preference. But...if the deed was already done, what harm was there in having an opinion now?

'What about Richard, after your cousin?' Mrs Anderson suggested to her husband.

'We aren't giving him a name of someone we know – especially not a family member for goodness sake, Pam. We need something normal but dignified if he's to represent our family. Something like...Lawrence.'

'He does not look like a Lawrence.'

As his parents fought, Blaine just stared at the bloodless creature. At sensing this, the glasz eyes returned to him. So beautiful... Up ahead, Burt could be seen returning with the box of accessories. Blaine considered the creator: he certainly disliked the name 'Burt', but perhaps there was still a way to honor the man who sculpted the piece of robotic art. 'I want to name him Kurt.' Blaine found himself saying.

His parents looked to him and silently considered his recommendation. 'Kurt...' His mother hummed. 'You know, it actually suits him.'

Content with the choice, Mr Anderson stepped forward. 'Your personal name is Kurt. Is that alright with you?'

The unit – Kurt – nodded once. 'Any name is acceptable to me. I have now saved your choice and I hope to serve you well.'

'He looks different to mine,' Nick commented, pulling his legs up to his chest on Blaine's bed.

Next to him, Jeff leaned forward to watch their friend's new unit put away some folded sheets into his cupboard. 'It's the eyes. I've never seen one that didn't have green eyes. He seems more human than the rest.'

Sitting at his desk chair, Blaine was glad his friends thought the same: Kurt was different, at least physically. It had been in his home for a few days but he could still not get used to its constant presence in the large house. He found himself looking for Kurt just out of curiosity, watching it do the most mundane chores like it was juggling knives. Come to think of it, Kurt could probably juggle knives perfectly. 'I don't know how you both can relax with one of these in your homes,' he ran his eyes down Kurt's flawless frame, pausing on its rear.

'It'll eventually be normal,' Jeff assured him. 'They're designed to be quiet and unobtrusive, asking less questions the more it learns about you and your family. Mine is like a walking dishwasher, I barely speak to it anymore.'

'Why would you?' Nick grinned, nudging the blonde. 'Yours looks like an old schoolmarm. I don't know why you didn't get a younger model.'

Jeff flushed and hit at him, scowling. 'My mom didn't want a good looking one in case my dad...' He didn't need to say much more; infidelity with a synthetic wasn't exactly unheard of. Perhaps that was another reason Blaine's mother had wanted a male? She could gain another son and keep a clean house without fear of her husband straying. Perhaps if Blaine had been more open to his parents about his sexuality they would have thought twice of buying a beautiful male his age. Secretly, Blaine was glad he said nothing on that front. His eyes drank in Kurt as he licked his lips.

'I'm really surprised they make them this young. He looks like he could be at school with us.' Nick stood up and walked over to examine Kurt from the side. The humanoid did not react to the staring or the conversation at all and merely continued folding and putting away Blaine's belongings.

Jeff followed. 'They can't make any which look younger than eighteen so Kurt must be at the extreme end of the scale.' He caught Blaine's gaze and he sniggered. 'And you can stop pretending that you don't love having it in your room.' It was now Blaine's turn to blush and he looked back to his laptop screen in avoidance.

Nick laughed. 'Do we want to know what you and Kurt get up to when no one else is around, bud?'

'Unfortunately for him, there's nothing he can get up to,' Jeff smirked. He returned to the bed where Blaine had placed the accessory box, opening it and looking through the booklets and CD roms until he found what he was looking for: the pack entitled Adult Content. Nick studied it over his shoulder, having never seen such a thing. Blaine, however, would be lying if he said he hadn't studied that pack several times over the last few days. Jeff confidently turned to the synth, 'Watch – Kurt, could you stop what you're doing and come over here, please.'

At once, Kurt paused in his folding and turned around to the three teens by the bed. He smiled and walked forward a few steps. 'Hello, Blaine's school friend Jeff.'

Jeff held up the pack for Kurt's blue eyes to see. 'I'm eighteen, and I would like to add on this program so that you and I can have some fun.'

'Jeff, stop it-' Nick tried to grab for the object in his friend's hand but missed.

Kurt looked to the pack and then back to Jeff. 'The package containing adult simulation passion and acts of a sexual nature can only be added by primary users.'

Blaine then stood up, bolstered by Jeff's shameless attempt. 'Kurt, I am your owner. I would like to add this on to your program.'

Now, blue eyes found hazel. It stirred something deep within Blaine that both excited and scared him. 'I'm sorry, Blaine. You are under eighteen and therefore not a primary user permitted to access such content.' With that, Kurt resorted back to his pleasant expression and returned to the closet.

Blaine groaned and fell back on his bed. 'I can't even touch it. I looked it up online: if I tried, it's programmed to rat me out. My birthday isn't for another month but...' He winced, deciding his friends could be trusted with the admission he was about to give, 'Fuck, my dick is just constantly throbbing.'

At once, Nick and Jeff burst into laughter. Nick soon fell into a chuckle as he considered Blaine's words. 'Wait, are you actually planning on having sex with it? Mister They-Are-Abominations?'

Blaine threw a pillow at his head and then stood up. He marched over to Kurt, placing both hands on the wall on either side of him and leaning in as close as he knew he could get away with. Kurt turned and smiled at him, awaiting an order. Blaine had an order for him – he had many – but he knew he couldn't say them. Not yet. 'Kurt...I'd like you to check under my bed for a coin I dropped earlier.'

Kurt nodded in understanding – after all, Blaine had a habit of giving this command – and happily strode over to the bed. Jeff and Nick stepped back and fell in line with Blaine to watch. Ducking his head perfectly under the structure of the bed, Kurt began scanning the darkened area for signs of coins. The only part fully visible to the teens was the round and glorious ass which was held high in the air. Blaine could almost groan at the sight.

'If that were a girl...' Nick began, embarrassed to fully admit that he was turned on as well.

'If it was a girl I wouldn't be having these problems,' Blaine growled.

With nothing else for it, Blaine was resigned to keeping his hands to himself. And by that, he was making do with his hand in the privacy of his bedroom with the door locked and several blankets on top of his body to conceal the noise of his antics. In front of his parents, Blaine tried to keep his eyes from straying to the walking forbidden fruit which served his meals and cleaned his mess. During his school day, he would prepare himself for the mental struggle which faced him once he got home. He fought to keep his worst thoughts at bay until he could retreat to his shower or bed to indulge in the new and repeated fantasies in his head.

However, it was not always possible to keep on top of himself, as he discovered one day after getting back home to find his home empty. Figuring his mom must have taken Kurt out for grocery shopping or something, he headed to the kitchen for a bottle of water. He was in mid-swig as he passed by the kitchen window when his eyes caught sight of something beautiful and downright captivating. Kurt was shirtless and on his hands and knees. His upper body was smudged in dark patches of soil and his pale skin almost sparkled in the sunlight. Mouth suddenly dry, Blaine was frozen in place just staring. It took him a couple of minutes to pay mind to the fact Kurt was wearing his dad's heavy-duty brown gloves and was planting a selection of flowers and shrubs along the patio – a fact hadn't seemed very important before – and that his mother was cooing from the side, verbally directing his trowel and root positioning. Thankfully, Mrs Anderson had not noticed her son's arrival, so his staring went unseen. When she began walking towards the kitchen door, Blaine pressed himself against the counter to prevent his 'issue' from being visible.

'Oh, honey, you're home!' Pamela smiled when she stepped in. 'You just have to see what Kurt has done today. We went to the Home Depot this morning and he's out in the garden planting us a whole new garden! Oh, you just have to see-'

'Yeah, I see, mom,' Blaine swallowed hard, eyes falling to the stove beside him. 'But why is his shirt off? The neighbours will think…'

Mrs Anderson laughed, waving her hand at the implication. 'Don't be ridiculous, only the perverts of the world look at synths in that way.' Blaine's cheeks reddened. 'I told him to put his shirt to the side to save it getting all dirty. It takes less time for Kurt to wipe himself down than it is to wash his uniform.'

Wiping himself down… God, what would that look like?

'I don't know how we did anything without him,' Pam sighed, standing up beside her son completely oblivious to his discomfort pressing even further into the cupboard. Her eyes gazed lovingly out at Kurt, who was working away with a contented smile on his face. 'I know we're all capable, and I know we run the risk of becoming lazy, but he just does everything so well. Perfect, even. The house hasn't looked more stunning, meals haven't been more delicious, and it's been so lovely having someone around to chat with during the day.'

'He's not a real person, mom,' Blaine felt strained in his reminder. 'You're talking to a computer. He doesn't care about your thoughts or opinions. He logs your stories on a hard drive in case you need a reminder of facts later, but he doesn't think about them. He doesn't think. Rely on him all you want for chores, but stop talking about him like he's anything more than a few nuts and bolts thrown together.'

Pam frowned. 'You sound just like your father when you turn critical.' She picked up some more flowers by the door and went outside again, calling for Kurt to come help her plant the next batch. Kurt nodded and stood up gracefully. Blaine's eyes drank in his smooth chest and nimble limbs as he walked across the grass.

Bedroom. Now.

He dropped his schoolbag and did his best to run upstairs, finally allowing his thoughts to dwell on the semi-naked droid on all fours, skin muddied, hair ruffled, and his bent knees parted. It didn't take long for the relief to hit him: a new record!

I can't keep this up much longer. Two weeks until I turn eighteen, and it'll be the most excruciating fourteen days of my life. I can't stop thinking about him. I can barely pay attention in class; I just keep thinking up new ways to test that perfect body, bringing him to the brink of his physical abilities. If only I could have him alone. But then he'd tell. No, I can't do it any earlier than my birthday. But how does that work? What if the information I'm reading online isn't up to date? Shit, and then I need to think about my parents. I can't do a thing with then I run the risk of them walking in. I need to have them away from the house and be guaranteed they stay away until I'm done. But how?

When Pam walked back into her kitchen, she found her son working on homework at the dinner table, laptop by his side. He looked up as she entered and set aside his pen, a shameful expression wearing hard on his face.

'Hey, mom?' He raised his hand to take hers. 'I was thinking, and…I'm sorry. You're right; you and dad work really hard, and having Kurt around is worth it if he lightens your load.' His mom smiled at him, pride in her eyes. 'And if that unloading also means he's your company when dad and I aren't around, then that's just as important. I'm sorry I was dismissive before. I'm glad he makes you happy.'

'Oh, Blaine,' Pam took his head in her hands and pressed her lips to his curly hair. 'You really are my sweet boy.'

Blaine gave a wincing smile, the one that had been perfected since he was a young kid. 'I wanted to show you how much I appreciate you guys, so,' He turned the laptop screen around to face her. 'I booked you and dad a room at the Duke Hotel. You deserve a break.' His mother gasped and leaned down to look at the website photos. 'I figured I would be out with friends on my birthday weekend, so if I'm having fun then I think my parents should too. Friday and Saturday night.'

'Blaine, we can't do that!' Pam cried, 'Duke is so expensive, don't waste all your money on us!'

However, Blaine clasped her hands. 'I'm serious, mom, it'll make me happy knowing you're being pampered.' He kissed her knuckles. 'Like you deserve.'

Squealing in both excitement and love-fueled emotion for her youngest, Pamela squeezed Blaine tightly and kissed his head repeatedly. 'Oh honey, you are the best son a mother could dream of!' At that moment, the back door opened and a still-shirtless Kurt walked in. Pam turned and half-ran across the room. 'Kurt, Blaine is giving Mr Anderson and I a mini holiday to the Duke Hotel – isn't that the sweetest thing?'

Kurt's blue eyes shifted to Blaine. 'The nearest Duke Hotel is nine-point-eight miles away. It is a five star luxury hotel with spa facilities and offers a number of guest activities, such as horse riding, potter classes, and archery.' He spoke almost in monotone as though he was reading the information section of the website – which he probably was – but warmer feelings followed as he smiled and remarked 'That is a very thoughtful and suitable gift for you, Pamela. I am sure you are pleased with your upcoming trip. When will you be leaving?'

'In a couple of Friday's time, the day after Blaine's birthday.' Pam beamed.

'I have added this event to my calendar,' Kurt informed them. His light voice was melodic and Blaine was left wondering how a machine could both look and sound so angelic. 'Can I help by starting on any preparations?'

'No, thank you, that won't be necessary,' Pam moved to pat Kurt's shoulder but paused. 'What you could do, Kurt, is go wipe yourself down. You're covered in soil!' She laughed.

Kurt smiled, acknowledging that she found humour in his appearance. 'Of course, Pamela.'

'Wait!' Blaine shot up from his seat. 'He might not be able to reach everywhere – mom, would you like me to go help him in the bathroom?'

Pamela nodded. 'Good idea. He might have gotten some on his back.' She turned back to Kurt. 'Blaine is going to help you get cleaned up.'

'That is not necessary,' Kurt gazed at them both. 'My sensors have not detected any organic materials on my body that is out of my reach. But if it would put your mind at ease, I would be happy to have Blaine aid in my clean up.'

Not wanting to risk losing his opportunity, Blaine rushed to Kurt's side. 'Better safe than sorry. We'll be back down soon, mom. Kurt…follow me.'

As Blaine led their way upstairs towards the bathroom, he could not stop the excitement rising within him. Not only had he secured his parent's absence for an entire weekend, but he was hopefully going to have a taster of what touching Kurt felt like. His palms felt sweaty, an outward demonstration of his nerves and anticipation. The droid entered the bathroom behind him and Blaine shut the door with a gentle click. Grabbing a towel, he tucked it between the bottom of the door and the floor to prevent any conversation seeping out into the hallway. The last thing he wanted now was for his mother to overhear his tone or words.

The rushing of water pouring out the drain was the only sound in the room. Blaine let his washcloth become soaked before wringing it out. Weighing the damp cloth in his hand, he took a deep breath. He turned. Kurt looked at him. Those blue eyes appeared to twinkle, his lips turned up in a shy smile – a design detail, of course, but Blaine was happy to pretend that Kurt was simply a human who found him intimidating enough to become shy. 'Uh, before I start,' Blaine licked his lips, his gaze drinking in the quietly toned and slender figure. 'What am I allowed to touch? Y-you know, without your circuits thinking it's inappropriate and making you tell my parents?'

Kurt gave the slightest tilt of the head. 'A primary user who is also your guardian has permitted the act of cleaning me. I currently have no exposed area which is considered inappropriate for you to touch with your hands.'

Blaine's eyes dipped to his pants: yes, that area was not exposed and would definitely be considered out of the question. 'With my…hands? What if I were to kiss you, Kurt? With my, uh…lips.' He swallowed hard as he focused on gently pressing the cloth against a muddy spot on the synth's arm. 'I've seen kids kiss their synthetics. It's how they show their affection. And that's allowed, right? Am…am I too old or something?'

Kurt's expression seemed to go soft – Don't get caught up, Blaine, he's probably programmed to look like that when kids are mentioned – and he tilted his head the other way. 'The sharing of a closed mouth kiss is not forbidden. I am made to be as unobtrusive as possible and, if desired, be as a member of the family. Family members often do connect through such acts, and I do not perceive it as inappropriate.'

Blaine froze. Slowly, his eyes drew up to meet Kurt's. Once again, he swallowed hard. 'So…I could…kiss you? Right now?' His breathing hitched. 'And you would not need to tell my parents?'

'It has not been outlined as undesirable by either primary user,' Kurt confirmed. 'However, as a minor, any physical contact I share with you is stored on my hard drive and can be accessed by your parents at any time.'

The thought frightened Blaine more than he believed it should. He was not afraid of his parents finding out about his sexuality, nor was he worried that his parents would eventually know that he had kissed guys and would eventually be having sex with them on a regular basis. But finding out their son had used a robot hammered into a male form as a gratification object – even as a kissing partner – was too much. He was not ready for them to make that discovery. His pants feeling tighter by the minute, Blaine forced himself to continue wiping down Kurt's body. He swept the cloth across the curve of his ribs and down past his navel. His hand stopped short of the waistband of Kurt's dark blue slacks. Kurt turned his head to look at him. 'Kurt, do you remember when my friends came around to meet you?'

'Jeff and Nick.' Kurt nodded, his smile widening. 'They are from your school.'

'Yeah…' Blaine paused, keeping his head low as he tucked his free hand into his back pocket and brought out the disc. He placed it on the sink in Kurt's view before stepping behind the 'boy' to press his hand into the dip between his shoulder blades. His nails scraped gently against his manufactured skin, reveling in how smooth and warm he was. 'This disc came with your box. You know what that pack adds, right?'

'The package contains adult simulation passion and acts of a sexual nature can only be added by primary users,' Kurt spoke the same words he did when Jeff presented the disc to him.

'I know, I know.' Blaine hushed him, eyeing the bathroom door as if imagining his mother's ear pressed against the wood, listening. Eventually he re-focused on the perfect form before him. 'Kurt, I know that I can't use it on you. Not until I'm eighteen.'

'According to my database, you will be permitted to use a number of new software items – including this disc – on May fifth, your eighteenth birthday. You are eighteen in two weeks-'

'I know!' Blaine grabbed Kurt's shoulders from behind, his own body wanting nothing more than to bend him down and strip what little clothing he still had and force himself inside the little hole Burt Hummel made, no doubt wishing it would never be touched. But Blaine wanted to touch it. He wanted to do more than that. He wanted to abuse it. 'A-and, Kurt, when I do turn eighteen, I become a primary user, right?'

'That is correct, Blaine, would you like to know more about the changes-'

'-Yes.' Blaine leaned against Kurt's back and slowly lowered his chin onto Kurt's shoulders, meeting his stare in the bathroom mirror. 'But I will ask the questions.' Kurt nodded in understanding and waited for him to form some. 'So, when I turn eighteen, I can – hypothetically - add on the content pack?'

'Yes, Blaine.'

'And then, if I decide to make use of your new functions, you won't need to tell anyone?'

'Yes Blaine, I am not required to tell anyone of your actions with my body.'

Blaine could feel the heat rising fast as Kurt used the words 'your actions with my body'. It took all his willpower not to grind on him there and then. 'And if I were to ask you, as a primary user, to keep these actions a secret, you'd do it?'

Kurt's eyebrows rose and fell. 'I cannot lie, Blaine.' Panic began to seep in – was all of this going to be for nothing? 'However, if you requested I keep our actions as a secret, I would honour your wishes by only sharing information if asked directly if I have participated in sexual acts. I am not permitted to give the names of those who utilise my functions if they are primary users. I would not volunteer facts unless you retracted your request.'

Blaine blinked, his mouth falling open a little. 'So, my parents would have to ask you directly if I had done things with you before you would be forced to tell them about what I did?'

'That is correct, Blaine.'

As the teen bit his lip, his mind raced. His parents were the most unsuspecting people he knew; they wouldn't ask in the first place. They knew nothing about the disc – Blaine had stolen it away in the car on their drive home from the Synth store – or what it could do to their precious Kurt. Even if they did discover that Kurt was able to perform certain R-rated acts, they would just assume he had it installed before purchase. So long as Blaine ordered Kurt to remain quiet once he was a primary used, and kept their antics out of sight and mind, getting away with it seemed…very possible.

'Blaine, your heart rate has increased.' Kurt said, still watching him in the mirror. 'Are you feeling alright? Would you like me to perform a health scan?'

Kurt moved to turn, but Blaine held him in place. 'No, no, stay.' He murmured, his smirk not shifting from his face. 'I feel fine, just…just stay where you are. I have to clean you.'

'Of course, Blaine.' Kurt stood still. 'Thank you for taking care of me.'

Blaine made sure to take in as much as possible with his eyes as he sensually rubbed non-existent marks from Kurt's back, using his free hand to hold Kurt's exposed hip in place. 'Don't worry about it, Kurt,' He sighed, 'Anything to keep you presentable and ready for action.' Once he was done running his hands across his 'skin', Blaine reached up and stroked his chestnut brown locks. 'Kurt, when I play with your hair, I'd like you to close your eyes and make sounds like your enjoying it. Can you do that?'

'Of course, Blaine.'

Immediately, Kurt shut his eyes and light, half-moans left his throat. Blaine's cock became swollen so badly, he almost doubled over. He locked those noises into his memory. Two weeks. You have to last two weeks. 'A-ah, Kurt, another thing.'

Kurt opened his eyes and his moans ceased. 'Yes?'

Face flushed and his heart pounding, Blaine didn't even bother sounding innocent. 'I'd like to see if you can touch your toes without bending your knees. D-do it for twenty seconds.'

Kurt smiled, and bent over. His fingertips touched his toes easily. 'One, two, three-'

Blaine's hand delved into Kurt's hair. 'Remember what I said before, Kurt?'

Kurt did. The sweet sounds of pleasure struck Blaine deep in the crotch as the sight of his forbidden fruit both looked and sounded like a toy ready to be fucked. And the wires and circuits woven through the synth's framework did not flag it up as anything other than unconnected physical requests. His cock doubled in size and ached against his briefs, threatening to burst through the material. Knowing he would lose self-restraint if he didn't end it now, a straining Blaine panted out 'For future reference, we're going to call what you're doing right now The Tease. Remember it, because I'll be asking you to do it again, alright? Okay, y-you can stop now…'

Kurt immediately became silent and rose up again. He turned to Blaine, his sweet smile unshifting. 'The Tease.' He repeated. 'I will remember.'

'And there's no need to tell my parents about it.' Blaine said firmly. 'I-It's a kid thing. They wouldn't get it.'

'I don't think it is something your parents will find interesting. I will only explain it to them if they ask about it.'

'Great. Thanks Kurt.' Still feeling the aching desire in his pants, Blaine picked up the towel pressed against the door and used it to conceal his problem. 'You should probably go help my mom with dinner or something.' Kurt nodded, and moved to leave. Blaine grabbed his arm at the last minute before he opened the door. 'Wait! I, uh, I just wanted to show my appreciation.'

With that, Blaine grabbed Kurt from the back of the neck and pressed his lips against his.

So soft, so warm…it's just like human lips. Smooth and plump.

Blaine opened his eyes and saw Kurt's a mere inch away. Flecks of grey and silver were like lightening bolts in those blue orbs. Slowly, Blaine pulled away. He hadn't meant to give in to his desires, but it was worth it. His sexual appetite was momentarily forgotten as he focused on how perfectly Kurt's sweet lips fit on his. Kurt was made for him.

'Thank you, Blaine,' Kurt's voice was like a whisper. 'I am glad I can please you.'

Blaine allowed him to move out of his grasp. He watched from the middle of the bathroom as his soon-to-be conquest gracefully descended the stairs.

'Okay, honey, your dad and I will be gone by the time you get home from school,' Mrs Anderson said as she bustled around the kitchen, picking up and placing down items she was still considering taking on their mini break. Blaine watched with mild interest as he ate his breakfast, occasionally glancing over to Kurt who was cooking eggs on the stove. 'But you can call whenever you need to. Do you need money? I can leave some cash out if-'

Blaine waved her worries away. 'Mom, I'll be fine!' He insisted. 'Seriously, I'll just be hanging out with the guys this weekend. I don't need anything, and if something comes up, I know to call. Please.' He stood up and hugged her tightly. 'Please just go and have fun.'

Pamela grasped hold of him and made cooing sounds into his shoulder. 'Oh, honey, thank you. We will. Happy birthday again, sweetie.' She kissed his cheek. 'Next week, how about we take you out to Cedar Point?'

'Sounds good, mom,' Blaine smiled. He watched her leave and listened as her heeled footsteps clipped up the stairs. He turned to Kurt and stepped up behind him. After two weeks, he was less nervous to get close to the synth as he knew the boundaries. 'Hey, Kurt?' The beauty paused cooking, turning down the heat so he could turn around to face the teen. He smiled, and Blaine's fingers itched to touch his lips. 'How old am I now?'

'You are eighteen, Blaine.' Kurt responded. 'Your birthday is today. Happy birthday, Blaine.'

Blaine smirked. 'Thanks. So, since I'm eighteen, am I now a primary user?'

'Yes, Blaine. My system has already updated to reflect this fact.' He moved to go back to cooking.

'Hey, wait, one more thing,' Blaine pulled on Kurt's shoulder and once again those blue pools flickered back to him. 'Kurt, I'll be home earlier than usual today. Two-thirty. I need you to complete all your chores before then, understand? You're going to be helping me with something that'll probably take the rest of the day. Got it?'

Kurt's smile grew and he gave a small bow. 'Yes, Blaine, I understand. I will get to work straight away and ensure I am fully charged for your return.'

Feeling encouraged, Blaine let Kurt return to the pan with a couple of firm pats on his rear. Kurt appeared to pause in his movements at feeling the touch, but he did not say anything. As Blaine left his house, he threw a fist in the air: I love being eighteen!

Click.

'Kurt?'

Two weeks. Two whole weeks, with nothing more to go on than ordering Kurt to search for pennies on the floor around his room or randomly telling the synth to demonstrate The Tease over and over again. Blaine's bedsheets were washed in secret, his trash can emptied in a tied up bag so his parents would not be left questioning why their son needed so many tissues or bottles of lotion. The fortnight of non-stop jerking off ran the risk of Blaine destroying his right arm and messing up his hand into a fist position for life – but thankfully none of his fears were realised.

At school, he got by on his charms alone to fool his teachers into believing he was still studious enough to be soaring in his classes, but his friends knew better. Jeff had teased him relentlessly on the topic of how Blaine planned to spend his birthday weekend, grossing Nick out beyond belief, but Blaine could only shrug: he couldn't deny it.

The teen shut the front door behind him and kicked off his shoes. 'Kurt?' He called again. His heart was pounding. His day of tedious learning had seemed to drag on, each minute passing like an hour, but the drive home had been over in a flash. Perhaps he had hit someone? It wasn't like he would have noticed. All he cared about was the perfect body he longed to explore waiting for him in his unsupervised home.

With no response, Blaine dropped his bag and climbed up the stairs part way to call for Kurt again, louder.

'Welcome home, Blaine.' The sweet angelic voice sang from behind him. He turned and saw Kurt stepping out of the kitchen. 'I have just finished re-charging and I am ready to help in any way I can. Did you have a good day at school?'

Blaine didn't answer him. Instead, he stepped down into the hallway and stalked straight up to Kurt. He grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pressed his eager lips onto the smooth heaven that was Kurt's mouth. 'Kiss me.' He growled against him, before entering past Kurt's lips with his tongue.

Kurt made sounds as if responding – if he's arguing with me, I swear to God, I'll tear his circuit board out and fuck him comatose – but then began moving his lips along with Blaine's. The movements were small, Kurt kissing like a shy first-timer rather than a robot which had the necessary programs installed to know the motions of making out. Blaine liked that; Kurt letting him lead and appearing hesitant in meeting Blaine's vigor made him seem more human. He shoved Kurt against the door frame and ran his hands down the length of Kurt's upper body. The blue uniform Kurt wore was certainly in the way, but for now it was good for raising the tension. Blaine gripped and tugged on his shirt, pressing himself against him to finally give Kurt the physical proof of his sexual desires. Kurt took the opportunity of Blaine breaking off for breath to turn his head down to look at the cock-shaped appendage jutting out from Blaine's jeans. He rose his gaze again and he looked apologetic. 'I'm sorry, Blaine,' He said, and to his credit he did indeed sound sorrowful, 'I'm afraid I am not equipped to perform the acts I believe you need.'

Blaine kissed his sad expression, chuckling to himself as he pictured the disc hidden well beneath his mattress. 'Don't worry, Kurt,' He took the synth's head in his hands and rested their foreheads together. 'I'll equip you. Now get upstairs. My room. Now.'

Kurt nodded and immediately set off for the stairs. Blaine took a moment to pace the kitchen, his mind running a hundred miles an hour in excitement of what he just did and what he was about to do. After downing a tall glass of water and giving himself an inner pep talk, he tried his best to calmly walk up to his room. Kurt was waiting for him. Blaine shut the door and retrieved the disc under the mattress. He played with it in his hands briefly, then offered it to Kurt. Kurt took the disc and studied it. His specialised eyes ran over the words: Adult Contents: 18+ Only

'I want you to, uh, insert this disc and install the program.' Blaine licked his lips.

Kurt stared at him. For a moment, Blaine's insides grew cold and terrified: that rosy pout, pink cheeks and deep, soul-searching and wonderous eyes… Kurt was human. For that instant, Blaine forgot he was looking at a piece of complex machinery, and instead he felt his heart be constricted as the shame hit. He was demanding Kurt obey, be vulnerable and submissive, enforcing his right to intimacy over him. A shimmer of pain shot across Kurt's gaze so fast that Blaine may have been able to force himself to ignore it had he not already been struck with intense shame. 'I…' Kurt began, and for the first time, Blaine witnessed a synth stutter. The rest of his sentence appeared to be jamming against the wires hidden behind his beautifully designed face. His bottom lip quivered. Then he went still. 'I do not require this. The disc is for your own use if you wish to adapt any of the programs pre-set settings. To install the program-' Once again, Kurt's words – which had been smooth and light as always – cut off as he seemed to struggle with an inner issue. His head jerked slightly and he looked away from Blaine towards the door. And again, just as quickly, he returned to normal and smiled at his owner. 'I'm sorry, Blaine, let me start that again. To install the program, simply take my hand and read out the five words printed on the back of the disc jacket.'

Blaine was frozen in place, not sure how to react to the malfunction he had just witnessed. 'Kurt…are you alright?'

Kurt's smile widened and he tilted his head to the side. 'Of course, Blaine.' He lifted his hand for Blaine to take.

Though unsure, Blaine took his hand. He took a moment to enjoy the way those slender fingers gently grasped his before bringing up the disc jacket to read the five words written in bold under the heading Initiation Key. He cleared his throat. 'Rose. Mesmerise. Sapphire. Summer. Cocoa.'

Kurt lifted his head slightly, looking to the side as if hearing something in the distance. 'I am being upgraded.' Blaine smiled. Kurt appeared to be reading in mid-air, studying whatever software was being chugged into him. He faltered, and Blaine's smile dropped as Kurt took a step back and almost hit into the full-length mirror behind him. Near misses like that were not supposed to happen: Kurt's body sensors were designed to prevent him making mistakes such as colliding. 'Ah…'

'Kurt? What's happening?' Blaine found himself asking, troubled. If he just broke Kurt through trying to get X-rated material into him, he had no story or excuse for when his parents got home. Panic hit him.

Kurt almost looked disorientated. He scanned the room as if trying to recall where he was. His eyes met Blaine's, and the stare might have been accusing if not for the fact Kurt was not capable of such expressions. Blaine repeated his name, but instead of replying the droid turned and looked at himself in the mirror. 'Upgrade complete.' Kurt murmured. As if seeing himself for the first time, Kurt took another small step towards his reflection and lifted his hand to softly tough his own cheek. 'Reviewing software. Review complete.'

'Uh, good. Right?' Blaine stood behind him, watching his synth over his shoulder. 'What happens now?'

'Anything you w…w-w-' Kurt ended in a stutter. With a look that could have mirrored surprise, he blinked. 'I wasn't made for this…'

Blaine could barely make out the words in the whisper. He immediately figured he must have heard wrong. 'Kurt?'

And as soon as Kurt's odd behaviour started, it stopped. His back straightened, and his facial expression resorted back to its usual happy state. His gentle smile returned, and his eyes reflected fondness. He turned back to Blaine. 'Anything you want. What would you like to do, Blaine?'

Blaine stood still. What the hell just happened? He waited a few more seconds, carefully studying his synth's features for signs of fault. However, Kurt was back to being his perfect self. Blaine made a mental note to research possible errors later, but as for now he had much better things to do. He cupped Kurt's cheek and stared right into those crystal blue eyes. 'First, tell me again: are you to tell anyone about what you and I do sexually?'

Kurt shook his head, smile unfaltering. 'No. Our sexual interactions are stored privately and can only be accessed by you. You decided this.'

'I did.' Blaine bit his lip. 'And if anyone asks, what do you say?'

Kurt went on to give the answer Blaine had heard several times in the last couple of weeks, nevertheless it was comforting to hear it again. 'I would honour your wishes by only sharing information if asked directly if I have participated in sexual acts. I am not permitted to give the names of those who utilise my functions if they are primary users. I would not volunteer facts unless you retracted your request.'

'And I won't.' Blaine felt a tug of guilt inside, but he ignored it. Parents were never meant to know everything that goes on with their child. He stared intently at Kurt, who met his stare with ease. Eyes drifted downwards, skimming over the periwinkle blue shirt that covered a quietly toned chest and button navel. 'Take off your top.' Kurt acted immediately. In a smooth, fluid motion, the shirt was pulled overhead. It was quickly folded and put aside. Blaine swallowed. He had admired the bodies of attractive men for years, and more recently had been getting up close and personal with such bodies in Lima, but nothing compared to the creamy, supple skin in perfect formation. His waist was smaller than Blaine's; dainty but with a masculine firmness that begged to be kissed. Licked. His nipples were a dark brown shade, symmetrical in position and shape. They protruded just enough for Blaine to know he could bite on them. Blaine pressed his hand against Kurt's chest and pushed him back into the door. Any human would have flinched at the impact of their head on the wood, but Kurt's skull was made of stronger material than simple bone. He continued staring into Blaine's hungry eyes until the teen crashed his mouth onto his. Eyes closed. Blaine pushed against him, caring little about anything else other than relishing the way those silk-to-the-touch lips cushioned his harsh take. He broke off for a mere second to gasp 'Open your mouth.' Before launching back in, this time Kurt's hot mouth was opening upon command. It was mesmerizing. Kurt followed his lead, returning the kiss as the recently installed programme caused him to do. Blaine's tongue met his. It was so real. Just…better. Kurt was better than any guy Blaine had kissed before. He couldn't describe it, but there was a flavour so delectable, Blaine could have been spellbound from the taste. This is Kurt's taste. The heat from their panting – Oh my God, Kurt's panting… - had Blaine lost in a cloud. He took Kurt's bottom lip between his teeth and moaned when Kurt returned the favour. The delicious tongue met Blaine's movements, as though predicting what Blaine would do and complimenting each action. Maybe that's what was happening, he later thought.

Finally, they broke apart so Blaine could wrestle off his clothes, abandoning them on the floor. Kurt looked down at them and Blaine had to order him not to clean it. Kurt nodded. As Blaine moved in to kiss him again, Kurt spoke. 'I have sexual reactor levels if you would prefer me to use them.'

Blaine struggled to hide his frustration at talk, but was admittedly curious. 'What are you talking about?'

'It helps set the right tone for our adult interactions. You can select any level between one and seven, ranging from mild reactions to extreme. For an initial encounter, I would recommend level two.'

'Fine.' Blaine swallowed. 'Two. Whatever. No, four.'

Kurt nodded, then slid his arms around Blaine's shoulders and stepped into his body. Blaine hadn't expected the unsolicited movement but felt a rush of excitement south of his now-exposed crotch. Their lips met again, their kisses now drawn out. Teasing. Kurt's skin appeared to grow hotter under his touch. He pulled Kurt towards him as he stepped back, falling on top of his bed. Kurt straddled him. Blaine liked this 'level four'. Kurt was tantalising before, but his acting on wired instincts and seeming to want Blaine almost as much as he wanted him had Blaine growing harder. Kurt's hips rocked into his and they both released sounds of pleasure. Only one of those sounds was genuine, but Blaine didn't care about that. All he cared about now was getting those fucking pants off of Kurt so he could at last have access to his prize.

Waited so long for this…

'Kurt, take off your pants.'

Kurt stood up on the bed, Blaine between his feet. Eyes never leaving his human master, he slid off his pants and stepped out of them. He tossed them behind. Now he simply donned an unassuming set of briefs, white and crisp against his perfect body. Blaine shuffled up into a seating position and took hold of the hem of the briefs. Slowly, he pulled them downwards. At revealing Kurt's flawless design, Blaine licked his lips. His rear boasted an impeccable round curve, unblemished and ready for abuse. His shaft was perhaps a half-inch longer than Blaine typically liked in his bed partners, but its girth made him want to stroke it just to feel the thickness. So, he did. Kurt's breathing hitched, and he briefly closed his eyes as if enjoying Blaine's gift. He then sat down on Blaine's lap, his legs wrapping around the teen's waist. Together, they sat looking into each other's eyes, noses touching, lips grazing and hands slowly exploring new territory. One hand found Kurt's neck and took firm hold. It wasn't like Kurt needed air, but the feel of the slender neck under his fingers sent shivers of want through him. He gripped harder, and Kurt's lips parted as a small reaction. Blaine could hardly keep track of any one of his million thoughts. His skin is so soft and warm. My dick would feel so good in your mouth. I love the weight of his body on mine. He was made for me. It's unmistakable; he is perfect. God, I want to fuck you so bad. His member now fully grown and rubbing tortuously close to Kurt's entrance, Blaine focused on how he planned to do this the first time round.

'Kurt, I want you to get on all fours on the bed. Spread your legs a little.' Blaine said thickly. Kurt nodded, and then complied. Blaine watched in awe as Kurt took on the stance of a cat, his back arching and his limps taut. The teen squeezed his own member, relishing the very sight of his submissive beauty. 'I want you to be more vocal.' He found himself saying absentmindedly, running his free hand down Kurt's spine. 'I read online you have modes. Boyfriend mode, angry mode, scared mode – right?'

'Yes.' Kurt responded, still breathing deeply as though there was a heart and mind attached to those circuits to make his demeanour realistic. 'I have twelve altogether. Would you like me to display each one?'

'No,' Blaine said a little too harshly, growing impatient with any talk that detracted from this fantasy scenario. 'I want boyfriend mode. I want to hear you wanting me. Like you need what I have to live. Beg for me.'

Kurt took a moment to consider his demands, filtering through the apparent contradictions. Boyfriend mode was loving and sensual. What Blaine was describing better suit 'slave mode'. Fortunately, programmers had provided for mixed requests, and Kurt only took a tenth of a second to modify his behaviour. He angled his rear, pushing it towards Blaine as he mewed 'Please, Blaine, I want you inside of me. I need you!'

Blaine almost toppled then and there, unsure when he had surpassed real life into his most desired dream. He wasted no time. The bed shifted as he got to his knees, crawling to position his member. Flashes of wonderfulness hit his vision at feeling Kurt's inviting rear grind back. His dick, now wet and throbbing, slid up between the ass cheeks and then down against Kurt's thighs. At last, he pushed inside.

Kurt gasped and then released a loud cry of pleasure. Or was it pain? Blaine couldn't have cared even if he tried: his own body was lost in the resulting crashing of ecstasy that came from feeling Kurt's tight body try its hardest to contain him. Blaine shoved himself in right to the hilt and stayed there, his hips flush against Kurt. Blood pumped hard and fast, and the teen could barely hear over the drum of his own heartbeat. Some kind of moan he had never made before broke out from him. His fingernails dug deep into Kurt's realistic skin. Had Kurt been human, he would have drawn blood. Kurt reacted as if he had, gasping and begging for Blaine to be gentle but to not stop.

'Again – please, Blaine, again!' Kurt spoke with desperation, as if tears were splashing down his face from an overload of need and want.

Blaine pulled out a little and pushed back in. The same wave, even stronger than before, took him deeper into the pleasure realm Kurt opened to him. With each thrust, Blaine lost more and more control. Kurt's fingers were gripping tightly onto the bedsheets, his knuckles a white colour. A nice touch of realism. However it was the screaming which was tearing from Kurt's synthetic lungs that drove Blaine insane. All those weeks of waiting with just his imagination… All those times Kurt's sweet and composed voice sang into his ears… They were the foreplay. Now Blaine had him at his mercy, wanting him and unable to stop Blaine from desecrating his nimble frame with his release.

It took one moment. Kurt's hand reached back and grasped Blaine's wrist. He pulled on it, but Blaine would not stop holding his hips in place. 'Please-!' Kurt was screaming. He wants me. 'I can't-' Can't hold back any longer!

It was the big drop from a roller coaster, the dizziness when on a merry-go-round spinning out of control, the fireworks going off in every nerve inside his body. Searing hot ecstasy blinded him as he filled up Kurt's insides with his own sexual release. He could feel the wetness and warmth melt into Kurt's skin. As he pulled out, he managed to catch a glimpse of the mess he had made, and it was this sight of Kurt's reddened skin smeared with white that Blaine held on to as he fell onto his bed, exhausted.

Breathing rapidly, Blaine was lost for several minutes. Kurt lay beside him, face down and not moving. The heated excitement calmed to a cozy glow of goodness washing up and down his body like lapping waves on a shoreline. Blaine's heart rate lowered, but his wide smile never shifted. Eventually, he had enough energy to roll Kurt on top of him. The stunning being wrapped around him, head nestling beneath Blaine's chin. Hands stroked brown hair, blue eyes stared down onto flushed tanned skin. A couple more minutes passed. Then Kurt spoke in a distant voice.

'Blaine, are we finished for the night?'

Blaine found the question to be one of the most ridiculous he had ever heard. His arms wrapped tighter around the smaller frame. 'No, Kurt. No, I just… Give me five minutes. I want to go again. Let's try level seven next.'

The primary user known as 'Blaine Anderson' had fallen asleep three minutes and forty-nine seconds before Kurt turned his head on the pillow to look at him. Through his blue glass eyes, the synth could see more than the human eye could. Dried perspiration painted Blaine's face, shoulders and upper body not currently concealed by the blanket. His lips were darker than was normal, and still plump from pushing on Kurt's. For a moment, Kurt's cognitive functions, supposedly designed to fulfill a person's wishes, hiccuped and up from the dark pool deep inside came the thought 'I wonder if my lips look like his right now?'

The question itself was moot; his intricate circuit boards could tell him in a tenth of a nano second about his outward appearance. The answer would be 'No, not now. The colouring and level of swelling of your lips returned to normal eight minutes after direct contact ceased.' However, that was of no importance as the more concerning question remained: how could he ask such a question of himself? His kind were designed to only reflect upon themselves when the resulting impact would be on a human. For example, if he were to see a person in the street flinch at the sight of him, no less than five thousand reactors would assess everything, from his stance, expression, speed and mobility, in order to determine what he could alter to appear less threatening to that person. He was made to improve the lives of humans.

At least, that is what he was commissioned to be.

Though his mainframe programming was created by Persona Synthetics, portions were added, altered, or altogether removed at the Hummel residence where Burt Hummel – often humorously referred to by others as his 'father' – lived alone. Kurt was not part of Burt's day-to-day job, but rather a personal project. Burt's company permitted his use of equipment under the conditions it did not hinder his professional tasks and that he submit blueprints of the finished product so that the company could experiment with the technology he would be required to invent. It was a 'win-win situation', so said Burt all those months ago. Kurt opened up his memory bank and found the audio and visual file from the week after his initial start-up in the building workshop. He had quickly bonded with Burt during those evenings sitting atop a work stool, listening to his human creator as odd joints and circuits were tweaked.

'My wife always wanted a son.'

It had taken all of eight nano seconds for Kurt to compile an almost exhausted folder of information on Elizabeth Hummel. Mother. Kurt had been created in her image. Burt was a skilled craftsman: even as a newly born robot being, he could draw deep similarities between his own appearance and that of the late Elizabeth. His voice tone, though male, was soft and melodic as hers sounded in the small collection of sound files he had of her. Kurt could recall the rush of love he had for both her and her surviving husband who looked upon him with affection. This man was not replacing his wife. He was immortalising her by giving her a version of offspring she would have wanted. The offspring he could only dream of. Kurt did not feel worthy in that moment when he realised there was a reason his network and thought progression was not following the normal synth experience. Kurt knew he was not made to serve or simply 'aid' humans. He was made to be human himself.

He did not have a literal heart, but he had emotions. His brain was not made of tissue and water, but rather a conscience drive which allowed him to make his own judgements. When a co-worker of Burt's stopped by the workshop, Kurt experienced fear, embarrassment and a sense of injustice when the human male's hands moved to touch him all over. And it was Burt's parental protection which put an end to the ordeal. Unfortunately, that was the beginning of the end.

The co-worker, unnerved by Burt's shoving him off, reported his 'concerns' to their boss. Both Burt and his 'son' were brought in days later to face a company committee who decreed that they had changed their minds about Burt's project. After calling time, they issued the order that Burt restore his synth's settings to the generic model. Burt had, of course, challenged their ruling – going as far as to plead and offer all his savings just to be able to keep Kurt himself. However, a private hearing did not go in his favour. A few hotspots, eloquent in speech and conniving in nature, argued circles around him and portrayed the whole thing a 'danger to humankind', and portrayed Burt as a pervert for wanting to keep a handsome, sentient late-teen at home. Another angle involved Kurt being the start of a robot uprising. After all, Kurt was capable of understanding the servitude his fellow mechanoids were made for, feel both passion and sense of injustice, and held the mental capacity to replicate his himself into an army.

Plausible, but not reality.

Burt had also argued that Kurt had not been build to allow for a 'flick of a switch' which would cut off his humanity. That led to the final blow: Kurt was then removed from Burt's care and handed over to other technicians. They were considerably lesser skilled, but believed that they had reversed Burt's programming enough for Kurt to be considered just like every other synth on the planet. And he almost was.

Kurt raised his hand to his face. There was a freckle on his wrist: a physical trait he shared with his mother. Only now, Kurt could not access those feelings of affection and unity so easily. It was like a box full of Burt's gifts of humanity were locked away within his chest. Kurt could recall his previous life, but not fully understand it. Then, when he least expected it, the box would burst open for a moment and a ray of blinding light close to a revelation would catch his network off-guard. Right now, as he felt the body heat of the eighteen year old next to him radiate on his skin-like surface, he knew what had brought on this episode.

Burt Hummel did not design me for this. I was not made for sexual activities. My body was to be my own. I do not know how, but that is what he wanted for me.

The program he had downloaded onto himself hours earlier caused his limbs to strain as he acted upon their orders. His polite and instant interactions with his user could have been likened to the human expression 'swimming upstream' – the smooth running of reactions seemed to jerk in the opposite directions. Burt's input within him was fighting it. And it was not strong enough to win.

The leaking from his rear was proof of that.

I require cleaning. Came the automatic response, followed closely behind by a much quieter I feel dirty.

Kurt moved to sit up, but Blaine's gripped his arm. 'Lie down. You're staying here tonight.' The teen muttered, eyes still closed and his body appearing to walk the line between awake and asleep.

'I should clean myself.' Kurt heard his soft voice. No negative emotions could be lifted from his tone.

Blaine rolled onto his back, pulling Kurt on top of him. 'I'll do it in the morning. You stay here.' He yawned. 'You stay with me until my parents get back. Every second.'

Kurt blinked. 'Blaine, when will your parents be back home?'

'Sunday sometime. Afternoon. Jeff and Nick'll be gone by then…'

Kurt felt pressure on his back as Blaine urged him to rest his body and head on top of the teen's. He complied. His limbs strained again, but lost the battle. His memory files lifted out Jeff and Nick from their depths. The audio files from their visits to the house played in his mind. They always spoke about sex. Nick, less so. The brown haired boy was always blushing and almost appeared apologetic when they were in the company of his friends. Perhaps it was pity? Nick knew what was going to happen.

Every inch of him, inside and out, felt dirty. His programming told him he needed to be sanitised, wiped down before conducting a cleanliness scan. Typical reaction for your average mechanoid. If only that was all he felt.

I was not made for this. I am not meant to serve. I do not want to know any of these things.

It was cruel. Kurt had been gifted the experience of humanity, permitted the freedom to form his own thoughts and bonds, emotions and actions. Then that gift was tied down. His mind would catch glimpses of his true self yet feel betrayed by his movements and words. He would rather have been a mass-produced piece of machinery, not a prisoner of someone else's desires.

Those glimpses are stretching out longer. You couldn't fight it before, but at least now you're trying to. Don't give up hope. One day… One day you might have the power to leave. Disobey an order-

A sharp crack of a whip, which sounded a lot like a program kicking into gear, threw Kurt out from his line of thought like a cannonball and back into a black and white strobe of ones and zeros. The room Kurt had been living in for months. Since he was taken from his father. I have no father. I am a product of Persona Synthetics.

'Goodnight, Blaine.'

A.N. I'm glad to have finally uploaded this. It might not be as good seeing as I've had a considerable writing hiatus but hopefully it was worth reading. Please leave a review or PM with your thoughts!