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azraeldoesnotdispute · 10 years

Text

Make Believe (It's You) 4/6 + Epilogue

Rating: NC-17

Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, Eli C./Chandler

Warnings: Non-con in a later chapter (will be marked), prostitution, minor character death discussed, drug use

Word Count: 6,737/41,989

Summary: Pretty Woman AU where Blaine is a wealthy business man who hires a prostitute named Kurt to stay with him for a week.

Author’s Note: Please read this before you start reading! First, this story is 100% complete. I will be posting a chapter every other day. Second, for those who have seen the movie, the dark elements of it are going to be darker in this fic, so be warned. And last: I have kept close to the story line of the actual movie and have even quoted or paraphrased certain parts because I liked them. Disclaimer: I do not own Pretty Woman or Glee. Mega huge thanks to Misty (istytehcrawk) for the beta and so many other things!

On LJ | On ff.net | On S&C | On AO3

Or read it here

There are crowds of limos and fancy cars parked all around the roped-off area where the polo match is already in session. Kurt can feel his heartbeat pick up, his muscles tensing. It is the first time he is going to be in an actual crowd with Blaine, meeting several people instead of the one-on-one he had done before. Finn parks toward the back of the crowd, apologizing for not being able to get closer. Blaine waves him off, telling him that he could use the exercise anyway. He opens his own door while Finn hurries to open Kurt's. Standing amidst the crowd, hearing the sounds of the announcer and the thuds of hooves, just ratchets Kurt's nerves up that much more when he finally manages to bring himself to get out of the limo. Blaine starts to walk away, but Kurt hesitates, clutching the handle of the door.

"Come on," Blaine says, wiggling his fingers at him once he realizes that Kurt's not with him.

"I changed my mind, I don't want to." Kurt shakes his head, feeling like a petulant child but still unwilling to let go of the door.

"What if someone recognizes me?" Kurt whispers.

Blaine gives him a soft smile, stepping even closer and wrapping his arms around Kurt, his fingers trying to loosen Kurt's grip. "I doubt it. These people don't spend much time around Hollywood Boulevard."

He can't seem to let go of the door handle, no matter how much Blaine tugs. "You did," he retorts, a little sharper than he intended.

"That's because I'm a crazy person."

"Oh, now he tells me!"

The banter does help and Blaine is able to finally pry him off of the door. He brings both of Kurt's hands up and kisses his knuckles before lacing their fingers together. "You look great, like a real gentleman. You have nothing to worry about, okay? I promise."

The suit he's wearing, new and tailored to fit him perfectly, does make him feel a little better, at least enough to plaster on a smile as he allows Blaine to lead him through the press of the crowd. They're stopped a few times and polite introductions are made, until they end up at the announcers' stand at the edge of the roped-off area serving as the field for the day. The man continues to call out commentary, but the woman turns, looking down her nose at the two of them. A nearly identical woman stands next to her on the ground.

"Ladies, this is a friend of mine, Kurt Hummel."

"Always so nice to meet one of Blaine's boys," one of ladies says, offering Kurt her hand as she titters. The other one, seated on a chair on the announcers' platform, just smiles in his direction.

"Kurt, I want you to meet the infamous Lopez twins, Maria and Santana, who have made marrying well into an art form."

Maria laughs and playfully smacks his arm, fluttering her eyelashes flirtatiously. "Blaine, you're terrible."

Blaine grins and is about to reply when he suddenly sees someone waving to him. "If you'll excuse me for a moment?" He squeezes Kurt's arm gently before walking off.

"So you're the flavor of the month," says Santana, the one on the announcers' stand, eyeing him with carefully masked disdain. "You look like you're twelve or something." She turns around before Kurt can say anything back, but Maria pats his hand consolingly.

"Just ignore her; she's going through some stuff. Plus, Blaine is one of our most eligible bachelors. Everyone, men and women alike, are trying to land him."

Kurt feels his hackles rise at the condescension in her voice."Oh, I'm not trying to land him; I'm just using him for sex." He walks away, but not before he hears one of them say, "Wanky."

He finds Blaine standing behind a few chairs, watching the game. Match. Whatever.

"Well done," Blaine calls as the crowd cheers.

"What is the point of this game, anyway?" Kurt asks. Blaine spends a few minutes trying to explain before Kurt stops him. "I will never understand why people play sports."

"Fun, exercise, I couldn't tell you."

"So why watch it?"

Blaine shrugs, his eyes tracking the ball as it moves down the field. "Entertainment, I guess."

"This? Give me a cheerleading competition any day; that's true athleticism."

Blaine turns to look fully at him. "Really? I never would have taken you for the type to enjoy watching girls in short skirts doing flips."

Kurt laughs. "I was on the cheerleading squad in high school just before my father passed away. There's so much more than that, let me tell you."

Blaine's eyes are wide and he swallows thickly. "You were a cheerleader?"

"Yeah, spirit fingers, prep rallies, and polyester suits, the whole nine yards."

Blaine's mind is swimming with dirty thoughts when he hears Eli calling out to him from several feet away.

"Blaine, hey!" He waves to him and Blaine automatically reaches out for Kurt's hand, lacing their fingers back together again and leading him to Eli and his husband.

"Eli, Chandler, this is a new friend of mine, Kurt Hummel. Kurt, this is Eli Collins and his husband, Chandler." They shake hands with each other politely, and Kurt can practically feel how fake these people are. Eli is a round little man with beady eyes and his husband is about the same height, though thin as a rail with Coke-bottle glasses and dressed like a hipster from the early 2000's.

"It's nice to meet one of Blaine's boys," Chandler says with false sweetness, taking a sip of his flute of champagne.

"You know, you're the second person to say that to me today. I'm not sure what kind of game-"

"Oh, look, there's Sue Sylvester, the creator of Sue90X." Chandler walks away, calling, "Sue! Sue, it's Chandler Collins, from your class!"

"He's the queen of workouts," Eli says with an awkward chuckle. "Likes to feel the burn." He punctuates his sentence with an equally awkward arm gesture before shifting his feet. "Listen, why don't I go get us some drinks? Here, Kurt, you can start off with this one." He hands Kurt the flute of what Kurt can only assume is champagne. "Don't worry, I haven't taken a drink out of it yet."

Eli starts to walk away, but pauses next to Blaine and grabs his arm. "By the way, did you notice that Senator James is here?"

"Yes, I know, I invited him."

"That right there, that is why I have pledged my undying love to you," Eli says, smiling brightly. He pats Blaine's arm and walks away, giddy.

"Wow, he is really something else. I didn't know they made kiss-asses that big," Kurt remarks, raising his glass to take a sip before Blaine takes it from him with a shake of his head.

"Need I remind you that you're still underage?"

"And I have you as a chaperone, what's the big deal?"

"It's still illegal."

Kurt rolls his eyes. "Fine. So who is that guy, anyway?"

"He's my lawyer. He's not a bad guy; he just takes a little getting used to."

"Yeah, well, you can freeze ice on his husband's ass."

Blaine snorts, actually snorts, and Kurt can't help but smile at him. "Maybe we'll do that later if we get bored."

Kurt full-on laughs, bumping their shoulders together playfully. "So are these people actually your friends?"

"Who, Eli?"

"Any of these people, really."

"I spend time with them."

"Well, no wonder."

"No wonder what?"

"No wonder you went slumming all the way down to Hollywood Boulevard to find me."

"I don't think of it as slumming. That indicates that you're somehow lesser."

"Most people consider who- people like me to be lesser."

"I'm not most people."

Kurt turns to smile at him. "No, you're not."

They turn their attention back to the game, Blaine once again explaining how it's played, even though he knows Kurt isn't really paying attention. Kurt wanders off to the bathroom and as he's making his way back, he hears Santana making an announcement.

"Alright, folks, it's that time of the game when everybody goes out on the field and replaces those divots! Get up on your feet and go stomp some divots!"

A couple of people they had met earlier in the day drag Kurt out, ignoring his half-hearted protests and convincing him to help. It's actually funner than he thought it would be, flopping chunks of grass into a hole and stomping it flat again.

"That's right folks, this is a time honored tradition! Kings and queens used to do this, so everybody get on out there and stomp! A word of advice: avoid the steaming divot."

Blaine rolls his eyes at the announcer, though he dutifully stomps on some divots.

"You know, Blaine, Kurt seems very sweet," Chandler says, appearing suddenly by his side.

"Yes, he is." Blaine smiles when he catches sight of Kurt, across the field and grinning as he playfully hops around.

"Where did you find a catch like him?"

"792-HOTTIE."

"Oh!" Chandler looks pleased and confused, and Blaine has to bite back a laugh.

"If you'll excuse me." Weaving skillfully through the crowds, he catches Kurt by the waist, making him jump and laugh. He turns in Blaine's arms, wrapping his own around Blaine's neck.

"Hey, you."

"Hey. Are you having a good time?"

Kurt laughs, nodding. "Better than I thought, though I think I scuffed my shoe." His pout is adorable and Blaine just wants to nip at it.

"I'm sure somebody around here has something for that." Blaine sways them around as the field slowly clears. "Come on, let's go find us a person."

A quick inquiry to Maria has them being pointed to a guy leaning casually against a red convertible. Blaine gets pulled to the side before they make it to him, but Kurt waves him off. He's a big boy; he doesn't need someone to hold his hand while his shoes are fixed.

The guy is named Elliott and he seems more than happy to help Kurt out. He helps Kurt up onto the back of the car and removes his shoes for him.

"Yeah, that's not bad at all."

"Oh, thank god, I was worried. Thank you so much for doing this," Kurt says, wiggling his toes in his socks while Elliott checks over his shoes.

"It's no big deal, all a part of the game of polo; you get your shoes shined by a member of the club. I've got something in the car that will get this right out. Give me just a minute, okay?"

Kurt nods and calls, "Thank you!" to Elliott's retreating form. He's sitting there, swinging his feet idly, when he hears his name being called. A familiar figure is approaching the car, dressed in blue and glistening with sweat.

"Hey, it's Luke Evans."

Kurt hops down, thankful for the plush grass beneath his socked feet. "Hello, Luke, how are you?"

Luke stops a few feet in front of him. "Good; I'm good. How are you?"

"I'm fine. I didn't know you were playing today."

"Yeah, I love the game. Say, do you want to meet my horse?" Luke motions behind them to where a horse is being wiped down by a girl.

"Oh, uh, Blaine is actually waiting for me." Kurt half turns, his eyes searching for Blaine's head of hair.

"Come on, it won't take but a second," Luke wheedles.

"Oh-Okay, yeah, just for a second."

888

Eli sat back and watched as Blaine and his little friend held hands. He sat back and watched as they laughed and danced on the field. He watched as they spent the day making heart eyes and flirting with each other. Blaine looked happier than Eli has ever seen him, and Eli is sure it has something to do with that boy. That boy, who is now talking to Luke Evans and looking over his shoulder every few seconds, as though he's afraid of being caught. Eli was pretty sure he was hiding something when they first met, but now he knows exactly what it is that he was so worried about.

"What are you looking at?" Chandler asks, coming up beside him and trying to line their eyes up so he can see, too.

"Blaine's date."

"Oh. Well, I'm going to go for a ride with the Winchesters in their car."

"Hm."

When that's all his husband says, barely acknowledging him, Chandler tries a different tactic. "Eli, I'm going to streak naked down the field and then blow the entire polo team."

"That's great, dear. Have fun."

Chandler huffs and storms off, leaving Eli to his thoughts. He watches for a few more seconds before going to find Blaine, who is talking to a couple. He politely excuses himself at Eli's request and they walk away.

"What's going on?"

"I was just curious about your date, Kurt. Where- where did you meet him?"

"Uh, I was lost and looking for directions when there he was."

"Oh, that's ni- You were lost and you just ran into him, that's very fortunate." Blaine hums in agreement. "So what does he do? Does he work?"

"He's in sales." Well, he's not technically lying.

"Ah, that's great, terrific, yeah." Eli is fiddling with his fingers and Blaine knows that something else is going on.

"Is there something you want to say, Eli?"

"I'm just curious- Hear me out on this, okay?" Blaine nods, focusing his attention on his old colleague. "I've known you a long time, right? And I want to make sure you're good. I've noticed some differences in you this week and I'm concerned. I mean, this tie..." Blaine looks down at his tie, wondering what's wrong with it. "The whole thing about building blocks. It's just- I'm wondering if this boy has something to do with it. Especially when I see him over there talking to Luke Evans."

Blaine turns and looks where Eli is pointing and, sure enough, there's Kurt, smiling and nodding as Luke talks, though his eyes are almost constantly looking around. Kurt is looking especially good today, his shirt form-fitting and the trousers doing things to his ass that make Blaine want to pin him to the nearest flat surface, tear those pants off, and sink his teeth into the taut flesh he knows is underneath. Something dark grows in his chest, overtaking the happy warmth that had come from holding Kurt in his arms and having him laugh as they danced around the field.

He fights it down, humming noncommittally and feigning nonchalance. "Yes, I introduced them at dinner the other night." He finally manages to drag his eyes away, back to Eli.

"Oh, so now they're best friends? Look, this guy, he appears out of fucking nowhere, he messes with your head, and now he's talking to the son of the owner of the company we're trying to buy? It just seems fishy, that's all I'm saying." Eli holds his hands up in surrender, as if to prove his point.

"No, you have it all wrong," Blaine says, shaking his head and laughing lightly. If he only knew...

"Blaine, Blaine, listen, how do you know he hasn't attached himself to you just so he can bring information back to Evans? Hm? The timing on this is all a little convenient, don't you think?" Blaine is still chuckling and shaking his head, much to Eli's annoyance. Doesn't he understand the severity of what's going on? "It happens!"

"Eli-"

"Industrial espionage is huge, it's a very profitable gambit-"

"Eli!"

"What?"

Blaine leans in a little closer. "He is not a spy. He's a hooker."

Eli blinks, taken back. "No..."

"Yes. He is a hooker. I picked him up on Hollywood Boulevard." Eli shakes his head, incredulous. "In your car."

Eli stares at him for a moment longer, eyes wide in surprise as he takes in this new information. It starts with a chuckle and, when Blaine just watches him, it grows into a full laugh, Eli shaking his head. "Oh, man, you are just-"

"Yes, yes, it's all very funny," Blaine says, rolling his eyes and looking around to make sure no one else is paying attention to Eli's hysterics.

"You know, you have to be the only billionaire I know that has-" Eli lets out a snort, shaking his head. "The only one that has to go hunting for some bargain basement streetwalker when you have people practically throwing themselves at your feet, I just-"

"Blaine!" The senator catches his eyes, waving him over.

"I'm sorry I told you, Eli." Blaine leaves him to his laughter, annoyed that he let himself get emotional and then let those emotions spill Kurt's secrets, but he pulls himself together, reaching out to shake hands. "Senator James, how are you? It's so good to see you."

"Hello, Blaine, thank you for inviting me." He's an older gentleman, his eyes crinkling as he smiles at him. "I can't remember the last time I've been to a polo match."

"Well, we're glad you were able to make it."

"I trust the information I gave you was helpful?"

"Very much so, sir, thank you. There hasn't been any change, has there?"

Senator James shakes his head. "No, no, it's still bogged down."

"Excellent, that's very good."

As Eli watches Blaine talk to the senator, he's suddenly struck by a thought. He looks over the crowds, back to where he last saw Kurt. He's no longer talking to Evans, but is standing next to a tree, watching the polo match by himself. Eli wanders over, chuckling as he approaches.

"Having a nice time, Kurt?"

"It's okay, I'm just not much into sports." He smiles over at Eli anyway.

"Yeah, it must be a real step up from Hollywood Boulevard."

Kurt's smile drops off his face. "Wh-What?"

"Blaine told me." Panic flares across Kurt's face and he shifts, trying to figure out how to get away without making a scene. "No, don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone! Listen, uh, maybe when Blaine goes back to New York, you and I can, uh, get together, huh?" He trails his sunglasses down Kurt's arm and Kurt has to suppress a shudder.

"Yeah, sure, why not?" Not on your life.

"Sounds like a plan." His hand moves until it's almost at Kurt's ass and he's saved by Chandler calling out to his husband. "I'll talk to you later," Eli says, walking away.

Unable to open his mouth in case he throws up, Kurt just nods, his eyes not moving from a tree across the field. Even after Eli leaves, he can't bring himself to move, the urge to vomit coming back frequently and the phantom feel of his hand on Kurt's lower back not dissipating.

Blaine finds him after a while. "Hey, how are you liking the game?"

"Fine."

That's all he says to Blaine for the rest of the day. He's angry and disgusted and he just really wants a shower because all he can feel is that creep, all around him, invading his senses and how dare Blaine tell him?

"Are you alright?" Blaine finally asks once they get to the hotel room. His attention had gone right to the mail sitting on one of the tables in the front hall, but it quickly refocuses on Kurt, who isn't his usual bubbly self.

"Fine." Kurt leans against the wall to take off his shoes, lining them up next to the table beside the door. He walks away, making a beeline to the bedroom.

"That's the sixth 'fine' in a row. Can I get another word, please?"

"Asshole. There's another word for you." The door to the bedroom slams shut and Blaine sighs, taking his mail to the living area.

"I think I liked 'fine' better."

The door swings back open. "You know what, can you just tell me why?"

Blaine looks up from his handful of mail. "Why what?"

"Why did you make me get all dressed up if you were just going to tell everyone that I'm a hooker?" Kurt looks likes he's seconds away from crying, his eyes overly bright and his lip trembling until he bites down on it. Blaine sighs as he walks towards the bedroom, shedding his suit jacket.

"I didn't-"

"I mean, at least let me wear my own clothes if you're going to do that."

Blaine sits on the bed, flinging his jacket behind him and raising his voice to match Kurt's. "I did not tell-"

"When I'm in my clothes and guys like Collins approach me, at least then I'm prepared, I can handle myself better." A tear breaks free and treks down his pale cheek and Blaine's heart clenches at the sight.

"I didn't know Eli was going to do something like that," Blaine replies to Kurt's back as the boy storms away to the mini fridge in the living room. "Believe me, I am not happy with him right now at all. But he is my lawyer, I have known him for twelve years." His shoes off, he follows Kurt, still trying to explain. "Look, he thought you were some kind of spy for Evans. The guy is really paranoid and I'm sorry he took it out on you."

"What are you, my pimp? Are you going to start passing me around to your friends like I'm some kind of toy?" Kurt snaps, slamming his Coke down as he turns and looks at Blaine. "I am not some prize!" He storms away again, back into the bedroom, but not before Blaine sees more tears falling. He follows Kurt into the bedroom, trying to explain himself.

"No, I don't th- I know you're not a prize, Kurt. Kurt!" he yells when it doesn't seem like Kurt is going to stop. "Kurt, I am speaking to you. Get back over here!"

Kurt jerks to a halt and turns, standing at the edge of the top stair that leads to the bed. Hands on his hips, he glares at Blaine.

"I hate to point out the obvious, but you are, in fact, a prostitute, okay? And, for this week, you are my employee."

"I hate to break it to you, Blaine, but you don't own me! Okay? I say who, I say when, I say-"

"I refuse to spend the next three days in a constant yelling match! I don't want to fight with you, Kurt! I said I was sorry and I meant it. That's it, it's over." Blaine feels like he's run a marathon, his heart pounding and his blood pumping and this has got to be the worst feeling in the world. He's never liked confrontation, but this, this is so much worse than he could have ever imagined. He's fought people before, several times, and it's never felt like he's been punched in the face.

Kurt's eyes close and he takes a deep breath, opening them again so set his steely gaze on Blaine. "No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ever met you, I'm sorry I got in your stupid car, and I'm sorry I agreed to this whole thing." He turns and goes into the closet and Blaine feels his heart breaking, even as his anger rears up again.

"Yeah, like you had so many more appealing options," he says snidely, loosening his tie as he goes into the bathroom, not even looking into the closet when he passes.

Kurt's head pokes out, his arms full of garment bags. "In the entire time I have been alive, I have never had anyone make me feel as cheap and useless as you did today." He disappears as Blaine leaves the bathroom.

"I find that very hard to believe." When Blaine turns around from setting his cufflinks on the nightstand, Kurt is standing behind him, clutching the clothes that Blaine had bought him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going home; I want my money."

"What?"

"I want to get out of here, just give me my money, please."

He won't even look at Blaine, instead staring down at the clothes and fidgeting. Taking a deep breath in through his nose, Blaine picks his jacket back up and rifles through the pockets until he finds his wallet. There's more than the agreed-upon seven thousand in there, he knows, but he can't bring himself to care as he tosses everything down on the bed. Chest aching, he walks away. Part of him wants to say something, to apologize again and hope that everything goes back to the way it was, but the other part wants Kurt to say something first. He hears Kurt sniffle as he grabs the mail he threw down earlier, but he steels himself, unwilling to make the first move. There are some shuffling noises and then the click of the door closing.

He's actually gone.

His head finally lifts and he turns, vaguely hoping that Kurt will still be there, though he knows it's fruitless.

Kurt's gone and the money is still lying on the bed.

What have I done?

Kurt presses the down button on the elevator again, hissing, "Come on." He just wants to leave, can't be here anymore, in this place with so many memories. He can't believe the callous way Blaine treated him, doesn't want to believe, but it's there and he can't erase it.

The door to the penthouse opens and Kurt starts to turn his head before forcing himself to face the elevator doors. He won't look at him; he refuses to.

Blaine's reflection in the mirrored doors stops next to him. "I'm sorry."

Two words, and already Kurt feels himself caving in. Stay strong, Hummel. Don't give in.

"I didn't- I wasn't prepared to answer questions about us, about our relationship. I should have never told Eli; I regretted it the moment I did. It was stupid and cruel and I didn't mean it. Please, Kurt, don't go."

"So why did you?"

Blaine sighs. "I saw you talking to Luke Evans and I didn't like it."

"We were just talking, like people on friendly terms do."

Blaine shakes his head. "I didn't like it."

The elevator finally dings and Noah steps forward, looking between the two of them. "Going down?"

Blaine looks at Kurt and Kurt looks at Blaine. Noah raises his eyebrow at them both, and Kurt shakes his head. No.

Smile dropping off his face, Noah steps back and presses the lobby button. Good luck, he mouths to Kurt, making his lips twitch into the ghost of a smile.

"You hurt me really badly," Kurt says after the doors have slid closed.

"Yes, I know."

Kurt finally looks at him. "Don't ever do it again."

Blaine's nod is almost imperceptible. Kurt turns and walks slowly back to the door, jumping slightly when Blaine appears and takes the clothes out of his arms. He carefully drapes them over the back of the sofa as Kurt walks to the bedroom, his arms folded protectively over his stomach. Blaine walks up behind him, wrapping his arms around Kurt's and kissing his shoulder, trying to press apologies into his skin.

He sets them swaying, slowly, like he had on the field just hours before. At first, Kurt is stiff in his arms, still tense from the fight, but it doesn't take long until he's moving with Blaine, his head dropping back to rest on his shoulder as he lets Blaine guide them. Blaine moves his hands down, stopping just above the waist of Kurt's pants and waiting for Kurt to give him the okay, which he does by pushing his hips forward. Blaine untucks his shirt, fingers rubbing on the bare skin of his stomach. Kurt's breath hitches, his eyes fluttering shut as Blaine unbuttons the shirt. Once they're all undone, Kurt straightens, allowing Blaine to pull it off and turning so that they're facing each other before he wraps his arms around Blaine's shoulders and holds him close, their foreheads pressing against each other. Their bodies never stop swaying to the beat that only they can hear.

It's Kurt who starts moving them towards the bedroom, who sits down on the bed and pulls Blaine down until he's hovering over him. Their pants were lost along the way and the only thing keeping them from being skin to skin is the thin cloth of their underwear. Blaine repositions Kurt until neither of them is hanging off the end of the bed, and then he takes his time.

A nip and a suck at those sensitive spots on Kurt's neck, still bruised from the night before, lips trailing down to brush over his collarbones, anything to make Kurt gasp, his hips moving of their own accord. He grasps Blaine's forearms, his biceps, anything he can use to anchor himself as his body writhes. Blaine pays special attention to his nipples, rubbing the pad of his thumb over one while he nips sharply at Kurt's pec. He moves down, covering the nipple with his mouth while his hand moves to the free one. His nipples harden to stiff, sensitive peaks under Blaine's attention, Blaine's tongue tracing circles around it before flicking the tip his tongue rapidly, making Kurt cry out and his hips arch up.

Kurt's fingers sink into the silky curls as he moans. He had never known his nipples were that sensitive. Blaine switches sides, keeping their only points of contact to his lips on Kurt's chest and Kurt's fingers in his hair. Every time Kurt tries to get some friction on his hard, aching cock, Blaine moves just out of reach. Once Kurt's nipples are red and swollen, Blaine continues down, the tip of his tongue following the dip of Kurt's chest down to his ribs, making Kurt gasp when he sucks a fresh mark on his side.

"Jesus, Blaine, please," Kurt pants, not knowing if he should push him down or pull him up. Blaine saves him from the decision by moving down, lips ghosting over the firm lines of Kurt's stomach, which tenses. Blaine's hands move from their spot beside Kurt to stroke over his thighs in what Blaine hopes is a calming manner. His lips tug gently at the small trail of hair below Kurt's belly button, making him squirm. Blaine smirks and moves to one of his hipbones, paying it closer attention than he had the night before. He had been too desperate to get Kurt cleaned off to take his time with the cherries.

He sucks on the knob of one of his hipbones before biting a line of marks all the way to Kurt's cock. Burying his nose in the thatch of hair at the base, Blaine takes a deep breath, enjoying the clean, musky scent. Peppering kisses up the hard shaft, his tongue darts out to taste the slit.

"Blaine, what- oh, fuck- what are you doing?" Blaine looks up to see Kurt staring down at him, completely wrecked.

"I want to show you- I have-" Blaine lets out a frustrated huff. He can't remember the last time he was at such a loss for words; he's normally very articulate.

Fuck it, he thinks, sinking his mouth down over Kurt's cock and hollowing his cheeks as he sucks. It's not the best blowjob he's ever given, but Kurt doesn't complain, his nails digging into Blaine's scalp and his legs, so impossibly long and slender and gorgeous, wrap around Blaine's shoulders. He can feel the ankles cross behind his head as Kurt's knees close around his head and Blaine redoubles his efforts, using every trick he's accumulated in his many years of being sexually active. In the end, all it takes is his dry finger rubbing gently over Kurt's hole before he's coming down Blaine's throat, his legs tightening around Blaine's head and his grip painful in Blaine's hair.

He relaxes slowly, his legs dropping and his fingertips barely massaging at Blaine's scalp.

"You look entirely too satisfied with yourself," Kurt grumbles when he catches him breath and sees Blaine staring up at him.

"Are you satisfied?"

"Very much so."

"Then so am I. I- I like it, when you're happy, Kurt, and I'm sorry for ever making you feel any way but." Blaine does look very apologetic, his face resting on Kurt's thigh.

Kurt's hand drops down to trace over the lines on Blaine's face. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I should have taken a calmer approach."

Blaine turns, kissing the palm of his hand. "Let me make it up to you."

"Oh, the blowjob wasn't the end of it? Golly, I am lucky."

"Shush, you," Blaine laughs, smacking the outside of Kurt's thigh before pushing both of them off of him and climbing back up the bed. He reaches in the nightstand and pulls out the bottle of lube. "Can I?"

It's the first time he's ever actually asked, that Kurt hasn't somehow initiated anything in any form or fashion, and the fluttery feeling in Kurt's chest seems to expand until he's sure butterflies are going to burst out any second. He nods, unable to speak over the lump in his throat. Blaine kisses his cheek as he lubes up his fingers. Reaching between them, he rubs them over Kurt's hole before one sinks inside.

It feels like more than it has before, like Blaine does care, and Kurt bites his lip when Blaine moves to his neck, biting and sucking as he stretches Kurt open, adding a second. His fingers search, curling upwards until they find Kurt's prostate, making him cry out and arch up. He's still sensitive from coming, but his cock starts to harden anyway. It feels too good to ask Blaine to stop, especially when Blaine doesn't focus on his prostate, just brushes against it every few strokes. It barely pinches when Blaine adds a third finger, Kurt allowing his body to relax and open up. His hands find purchase on Blaine's shoulders when Blaine drops his hips down, thrusting against Kurt's thigh.

"Please, Blaine, I'm ready, fuck me," Kurt begs, clenching around his fingers. He reaches for one of the condom packets he keeps under the pillow for just this reason. "I want you so badly."

Blaine lets go of the bit of skin he had been worrying between his teeth and moves back, removing his fingers from Kurt's ass and taking the condom that Kurt offers. He rips it open, pinching the tip and quickly rolling it down his cock. After a quick application of lube, he lines himself up to Kurt's hole. He pushes past the initial resistance and slides easily the rest of the way, bottoming out.

Bracing his forearms on either side of Kurt's head and resting his forehead against Kurt's, Blaine slowly pulls out and pushes back in. He can feel Kurt's gasp against his lips, can feel the flutter of his eyelashes as they fall shut, already lost to the slow rhythm of their bodies moving. It's slow, pressed close enough that their stomachs are touching, Kurt's cock trapped between them. His nails start to dig into Blaine's shoulder blades as his breath quickens and he moans and Blaine watches the whole thing, fascinated. He hadn't been lying when he told Kurt he was beautiful when he came and he doesn't want to miss a second of it this time.

And this time, it means more, somehow. He wants to show Kurt that he is lov-

His hips stutter at the thought.

He's known this boy for four days. Four days and already he feels more for him than any of his past lovers. Could he- No...

Kurt groans, his eyes opening as he lifts his hips, trying to get Blaine to move. When he catches the look on Blaine's face, however, he frowns, opening his mouth to ask questions Blaine doesn't know how to answer so he does what he does know. He thrusts hard, his hips snapping forward and making Kurt gasp, his jaw dropping and his fingers digging harder into Blaine's flesh. Once he starts, he can't stop, fucking Kurt hard until he's coming between them just from the friction their stomachs create.

Blaine grabs Kurt's shoulders, burying his face in Kurt's neck and pulling him down on his cock as his hips go double time, balls aching for release. Kurt tilts his head, licking a line up his neck and ending with nipping Blaine's earlobe and he's gone, hips thrusting forward one last time and then he's coming, panting hotly against Kurt.

"I'm all for cuddling, but you're going to have to pull out," Kurt murmurs. "It's too much, after coming-"

"Shit, sorry," Blaine says, sitting up. Holding the end of the condom, he pulls out. Once it's tied off and thrown in the trash, he lies on the opposite side of the bed, facing Kurt. They watch each other for a little while, catching their breath and drifting a bit.

"Will you tell me why you came here?" Blaine asks suddenly, his voice quiet in the fading sunlight. "Why Hollywood, specifically."

Kurt shrugs. "I don't know. I thought about New York, to do theatre, but... I don't know, it just didn't feel right, like I couldn't have that. And Hollywood, it's like the land of dreams. Everyone is someone here." His eyes fall. "I never felt like I was anyone in Ohio. I was bullied all the time in school and- and it got really bad just before my dad had his heart attack. No one seemed to notice, either, which..." Kurt sniffs, blinking his eyes rapidly. "I mean, they're supposed to have been my friends, but they just kept turning a blind eye to everything. I didn't want to tell my dad because he was already getting these phone calls and I just didn't want to worry him. And then when he had his heart attack and went into the coma, all they did was sing songs and say they were going to pray for me, despite knowing I'm an atheist. What good is that going to do?" He laughs hollowly. "Obviously it didn't do any good; he still fucking died."

"Kurt." Blaine's heart is breaking and he feels terrible about asking now.

"No, it's fine, I'm sorry, I shouldn't- It's stupid." He wipes at his eyes.

Blaine casts around for a change of subject. "If you could do anything in the world, what would you pick for a career?"

Kurt laughs but doesn't comment on the obvious subject change. "I don't know. I used to want to be on Broadway, but there just aren't many roles for a guy with a high voice, you know? So I thought, maybe movies? But now, I don't know. Maybe fashion design or something?"

"Really?"

Kurt hums. "Yeah, I used to always doodle stuff in notebooks, and I had this huge collection of out-of-season designer clothes in Ohio."

"Kurt Hummel Designs, I can see it now," Blaine says, sounding like he's joking, but he can see it now, already, in his head. He could help make that happen.

"It's a pipe dream, but-"

"No, nothing is a pipe dream," Blaine interrupts, reaching over to cover Kurt's hand with his. Kurt automatically laces their fingers together, hands on the empty stretch of space between them. "Anything is possible."

"Yeah, if you have the money," Kurt snorts.

I do have the money. I would give it all to you.

"You deserve so much more, Kurt. Those people, all of them who have ever said that you're not good enough, are wrong."

Kurt's mouth twitches sadly. "Yeah, well, when people put you down enough, you start believing what they say is true, even when you know it isn't."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything."

"You haven't done anything wrong."

It doesn't feel like I've done anything right, either.

"I'm tired," Kurt yawns. "Today has been so long."

"Get some rest," Blaine murmurs.

Kurt hums, his eyes already closed. "What 'bout you?"

"I'll sleep in a bit."

Kurt just hums again, his grip relaxing in Blaine's. He doesn't move until Kurt is completely asleep. Carefully, he removes his hand and slides out of bed. His mind is full of ideas that he wants to set in motion now.

#pretty woman!Klaine #older!blaine #prostitue!kurt #klaine #az writes

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wingsofwriting · 12 years

Text

Anybody want to teach me how to post a fill request on the GKM and how to track it?

#glee kink meme #gkm #fill request #prostitue!kurt #lawyer!blaine #idea

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azraeldoesnotdispute · 10 years

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Make Believe (It's You) 3/6 + Epilogue

Rating: NC-17

Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, Eli C./Chandler

Warnings: Non-con in a later chapter (will be marked), prostitution, minor character death discussed, drug use

Word Count: 7,210/41,989

Summary: Pretty Woman AU where Blaine is a wealthy business man who hires a prostitute named Kurt to stay with him for a week.

On LJ | On ff.net | On S&C | On AO3

Or read it on here

Kurt grunts as the curtains in the room are opened, sunlight flooding in.

"Good morning!"

The bed dips next to him as he rolls and he opens his eyes to find Blaine sitting there, lacing up his shoes. "Time to wake up and go shopping." Kurt groans, stretching out his body and moving to lie on his back. Blaine dangles a credit card in front of him. "If you have any problems using this card, have them call me."

"What's wrong? I thought you liked shopping?" Blaine stands, shaking his legs out so that the press of his trousers falls straight.

"I guess." He props himself up on his elbow, facing Blaine but looking at the black card in his hands. Huh, titanium. "It's not as much fun on Rodeo Drive as I thought it was going to be."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean when I went shopping yesterday, they were mean to me at the shop." Kurt sighs, flopping back down. "Of course, it's probably at least partially my fault, but come on, that sweater was a walking fashion disaster and the way the manager acted, I just..." Kurt huffs through his nose.

"So let me get this straight. You're mad-"

"I'm not mad-"

"You're upset because you got kicked out of a store after insulting an employee."

Kurt rolls his eyes. "No, I'm upset because people like that travesty are allowed to work in fashion and because the manager- He said they don't have anything for my 'type,' as if I were somehow less than them." The end of the sentence is quiet and Kurt closes his eyes at the overwhelming embarrassment the memory brings him.

Blaine doesn't say anything, but Kurt hears him moving about the room. Go figure he would open his heart just that little bit and-

"Eli? Hey, I'm just letting you know I'm going to be doing some work outside of the office today." Kurt's eyes fly open and he sits up, the blankets falling to his waist. "Uh-huh. Yes. No, don't worry about it. Okay, just call me if it's important. Alright, bye." Blaine turns to look at him as he ends the call, still lying in bed. "Well? Get up; we've got some shopping to do!"

888

This time when Kurt shows up on Rodeo Drive, he's dressed in his leather pants and the button up shirt from his suit the night before. People are still staring at him and he mentions as much to Blaine.

"They're not staring at you, they're staring at me."

"Why would they stare at you?"

He almost runs into the back of Blaine when he stops suddenly in front of a store. "Because I'm with the most beautiful man they've ever been lucky enough to see. Are you ready?"

Kurt takes a deep, calming breath and nods.

"Let's do this."

Like the shop where he met Artie yesterday, this shop is nice and modern, the clothes upscale and chic without a hint of tacky sweaters anywhere. They're examining a rack of dress shirts when a busty woman with silky black curls approaches them.

"Hello, gentlemen, my name is Unique Adams, and I am the owner of this establishment. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Kurt's face falls even as Blaine steps forward. "Hello, Ms. Adams. Do you have anything in this store that could hold a candle to the handsomeness of my companion here?" He reaches for Kurt, drawing him to his side and making him smile shyly.

Ms. Adams looks Kurt up and down for a second. "I think we can come pretty close."

"Good. Now, I think we're going to need some more help because I plan on spending an obscene amount of money today, so we're going to need a lot more help sucking up to us."

She grins and claps her hands together twice. "Mary Sue, Gavin, Mercedes, Brittany!" A gaggle of women and a man come rushing over, immediately fawning over Kurt and rushing away to grab clothes. Unique ushers Kurt over to a seat and hands him a book that they begin pouring over in between the outfit selections the sales people bring over. Blaine spends most of his time on his tablet, going through emails and what paperwork he can do while not at the office, but he often finds himself watching Kurt. Frequently, Kurt even asks for his opinion and he actually likes the process of checking over the clothes and telling Kurt what he thinks, because he thinks Kurt's asking because he wants to look good for Blaine; he wants to impress him. His heart jumps around a bit at the thought, the possibilities of what it could mean, but he pushes it down.

Do not get emotionally involved in business.

That doesn't stop him from looking and enjoying the happiness on Kurt's face, the way his blue eyes sparkle and the way he forgets to hide his teeth when he smiles. It's like he's blossoming under the attention and Blaine wants to soak up every second that he can. Drinks are brought out and, as much as he can, Blaine forces his attention on his work.

"Mr. Anderson? How's it looking?" Ms. Adams asks, coming to stand next to him.

"I think it's looking like we need some more sucking up," Blaine says, not looking up from his work. "I'm talking about a really offensive amount of money here."

"Well, you know, I wouldn't kick you out of bed for eating crackers."

Blaine finally looks up. "Not me, him."

Ms. Adams is smirking at him. "Not him, either." She struts away, calling to her salespeople.

Blaine shakes his head, grinning. His phone rings and, without looking, he knows it's Eli. "Hello."

"Blaine, where are you?" He sounds frazzled and it just makes Blaine smile harder. "There's talk all over the streets; Evans is going to counter your offer."

"What? How is he getting the money for that kind of thing?"

"I don't know, I think he's going in with his employees or something."

"He knows the Navy contracts are stalled."

"That explains the sudden rush to gather cash."

"He's still going to need someone to underwrite the paper. Find out who it is; I'll be at the office in an hour." He hangs up the phone and watches Kurt as he inspects each article of clothing brought to him. He wastes a little time doing this before gathering his stuff and finishing off the last swallow of his coffee. Bending, he whispers in Kurt's ear, "Something came up; I have to go to the office. You have my card; use it however you want. I will see you tonight." On impulse, he kisses Kurt's temple and leaves.

After a while, Kurt's stomach growls. He and Blaine had forgone breakfast in favor of a quickie in the shower and he is starving. A quick search on his phone shows a Chinese food place that will deliver and an even quicker call to Blaine has him ordering lunch for the entire place. They take a break from shopping to eat and Kurt finds that the people he's keeping company with are not snobby in the least. They're all very kind, deep to their cores, and none of them are from well-to-do families that made them think they're better than anyone else.

Unique had built her boutique up from the ground, struggling every inch of the way through catty designers and the prejudice that comes with being both trans* and black.

Mercedes is a singer, destined for greatness if she can only get a label to sign her without trying to turn her into just another sex doll singing pop music. With a voice like hers, Kurt is hopeful it will happen sooner rather than later.

Brittany teaches at a dance school when she wisn't working at the shop and is trying to drum up more business for the small company.

Gavin is from a small town in Georgia and is doing everything in his power to prove to his parents that coming out to California wasn't a waste of time.

And Mary Sue is… Wow, she is something else, though Kurt doesn't think he can find the right words to describe her. She had grown up in a city in Ohio not far from where Kurt grew up and had come to LA on the coattails of some guy with a half-cooked idea of acting that flattened after she got a taste of what most agents and casting directors really wanted from vulnerable young people.

They make him feel better, hopeful that the nasty people from the day before really are an anomaly around here, though he knows it's a pipe dream. There are people like that everywhere; the important thing is finding the people like the ones here, in this shop. After they finish eating and finish dressing Kurt up, Unique begins ringing everything up. The girls and Gavin convince him to change into some of the new clothes, politely not mentioning the fact that his leather pants are pretty beaten up.

He feels better after he dresses, like he had when he got ready for the business date the night before. Unique promises to send along the items that need to be tailored, telling him that they have a delivery service that will take it to the hotel for him. After giving out hugs to everyone and promising to be back when he could, Kurt leaves for the next store.

And the next.

He finds several more outfits, more than he'll need for just the week that he's staying with Blaine, but every time he talks to him, Blaine just encourages him to continue shopping. He finds a beautiful tie in one of the shops, something that will make the green in Blaine's eyes pop, and feels a little better after spending so much of the man's money. A pocket square here, cufflinks there, and even though Blaine is paying for it all, Kurt's sure that he'll at least appreciate the effort.

Toward the end of his shopping escapade, he passes the shop from the day before. He considers walking past, just ignoring it and taking the higher road, but…

Nah.

The bell tinkles overhead as he steps in and he's automatically greeted by someone. Kurt just waves him off and walks over to the girl from yesterday, in an equally atrocious sweater.

"Hello, how can I help you?" she asks, sounding a bit surprised at being approached so forcefully.

"Yeah, hi, do you remember me?" Kurt asks, getting straight to the point.

"Uh, no, I'm sorry."

"I was in here yesterday. You wouldn't help me."

Her eyes nearly bug out of her head when she finally recognizes him, carrying several bags of clothes and shoes. "Oh, I-"

"How does it feel to know that you just lost out on a major commission because you judged someone based on how they look?"

"I-"

"Well, I have to go, I have more shopping to do. Bye!" Without waiting for a half-stuttered answer, Kurt walks out, his ass shaking in his tight new jeans.

It feels nice not to take the high road for once in his life.

A few hours later, Kurt calls a cab to come pick him up. All of the shops seem to have a delivery service and they all promise to have all of his purchases sent to his room. He still has several bags and one of the doormen is quick to help him get out of the car and grab whatever Kurt can't carry. He follows him to the elevator and, once they are in the penthouse, Kurt digs in his wallet for the leftover cash from the day before, providing the man with a tip.

Heaving a sigh, Kurt finally flops down on the sofa, exhausted, though his brain is already formulating the perfect way to really thank Blaine for his generosity.

888

Blaine stares blankly at the wall as the meeting breaks up, Eli giving last-minute instructions to some of their colleagues. He doesn't remember much of the meeting, his mind on Kurt and Sam Evans and everything that's happened in the past two days. It's been a crazy whirlwind and his head seems to be full of all these things he had buried long ago.

"You were right, Evans has mortgaged everything, down to his Batman underwear, to get a loan from the bank," Eli says excitedly, sitting down next to Blaine.

"How do you know what kind of underwear he has?"

"The man has a reputation for being a huge comic book nerd; it's an educated guess. Anyway, guess which bank he went to. Plymouth Trust. Eh?" Eli smacks Blaine's arm excitedly.

He wants to tear this perfectly nice guy down and he's excited about it.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, so it goes without saying that they're going to want our business a bit more than Evans', so all you have to do," he says, pushing the phone on the desk closer to Blaine, "is call the bank."

Blaine's eyes fall on the arrangement of water glasses that were set out for the meeting and he leans forward, pulling them to him. "Yeah." Even to his own ears, he sounds disheartened.

"Blaine…"

One by one, he stacks the cups on top of each other, building a tiny glass pyramid. Eli huffs and stands, making like he's going to leave, but he stops himself.

"Look, I've tried to keep quiet, I figured you were just in a funk or had jet lag or something, but seriously, Blaine, what the hell has been going on with you? All this week, you've been off! Are you trying to let Evans get away?"

"You know what I used to love as a kid, Eli?"

"What?"

"Building things. Legos, Tinker Toys, Erector Sets, Lincoln Logs. I had it all and I loved to build elaborate things with them. Just, all over my room."

"Okay, so? I liked Monopoly, Risk, Battleship, what's your point?"

"My point, Eli, is that we don't do anything. We don't build anything or make anything."

"We make money, Blaine." Eli sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "We have been working for over a year on this deal. This is what you said you wanted. It's here, now, on a silver platter right in front of you. It's time to go in for the kill while Evans' neck is exposed."

He pushes the phone even closer to Blaine. "Let's finish this. Call the bank. Then you can have your psychotic break. I'll even set up a vacation for you, somewhere far away where you can get your mind off of everything."

Blaine nods slowly, chewing on the inside of his lip for half a second before he makes himself stop.

Is this what he wants? He doesn't even know anymore.

888

Step one of Kurt's plan is to call room service. He orders dinner for them both, and a plate of cherries and chocolate syrup for a naughty version of dessert.

Step two is a nice, hot shower about an hour before Blaine comes back. He cleans himself thoroughly, making sure every inch is scrubbed down and smelling like the body wash he picked up at one of the boutiques. It's one of the best things he's ever smelled and he regrets not picking up a few more bottles to take with him when Blaine leaves.

Step three happens when the doorbell rings just as he's getting out of the shower. He hurries to dry off and slip on the robe, simply throwing the towel over his head. A man is waiting patiently when he finally gets there. Kurt apologizes profusely, but the man waves him off with a smile as he pushes the cart to the dining area and Kurt makes sure to give him a little extra to make up for it. Leaving the food where it is, he goes back to the bathroom and does his hair, reverting back to the just-fucked hair he had worn when he first met Blaine.

Step four is setting the table. Blaine had told him he would be back around seven, so Kurt waits until six fifty to move the plates to the table, leaving them covered. He turns the heat up so that the food won't be too cold and then pulls on the smallest pair of briefs he had bought earlier. They cover just enough and show off the jut of his hipbones.

Kurt sets up his phone on the hook-up of the stereo and turns on his 'Romance' playlist. He hadn't used it in, well, ever, but he keeps it around anyway. One of the ties he had bought for Blaine gets loosely tied around his neck and he turns one of the chairs so that it's facing the living room, which Blaine will have to walk through to go anywhere else in the penthouse. Kurt sits there for several minutes, trying to figure out the best way to be sitting when Blaine arrives. It's not until the door handle jiggles that he just goes for it, sitting on the edge of the chair and reclining back, his long legs propped up on the table.

Blaine's on his tablet when he walks in, his brow furrowed. Kurt clears his throat and Blaine's head turns, lightning quick, his jaw dropping slightly.

"Hello, dear. How was your day?" Kurt asks coyly.

"That is a nice tie."

"Do you like it? I got it for you."

Blaine tosses his tablet onto the sofa carelessly, followed by his suit jacket and waistcoat. He's undoing his cufflinks when Kurt stops him.

"Wait, wait, I ordered dinner for us." He stands and lifts the silver dome off of one of the plates.

"Dinner?" Blaine blinks, trying to get his mind back on track as he stares blankly at the food.

"Yup. And, if you're good…" Kurt gestures to two bowls that are still covered, piquing Blaine's interest with their mystery, "we can have a little fun after dinner."

"And if I'm not good?" Blaine growls playfully, his eyes dark as he crowds against Kurt.

"Hm, then I'll just have to have a little fun all by myself."

Blaine lets out a groan, imagining watching Kurt as he- "Deal. What did you order?"

Once they're seated, Blaine realizes how hungry he actually is. They hadn't eaten breakfast and when he got to the office, he had been too busy to eat lunch. The grilled chicken salad and warm yeast rolls are filling without making him feel stuffed and they easily keep the conversation rolling, taking turns talking about what happened after they parted at the store. Every shift of Kurt's body is stark in his mostly unclothed state and Blaine spends a good part of the meal just watching him.

"That was delicious. Thank you for ordering that, Kurt," he says, setting his napkin down after wiping his mouth.

"Good, I'm glad." Kurt sets down his flute of non-alcoholic sparkling wine and smiles at Blaine, making his heart stutter in his chest. "Do you want dessert now or later?"

Blaine considers this. He's not stuffed, but he's not particularly hungry either. "How about we clear the table and see what we have to work with?"

Kurt smirks knowingly at him, and together they place the plates and bowls on the cart and wheel it to the front door.

"Okay, so where do you want to get a little messy at?" Kurt asks, giddy at the dangerous look in Blaine's eyes.

Without a word, Blaine leads Kurt back to the table and helps him climb up and then lay down on the white linen covering it. Kurt watches as he goes over to the bowls and lifts the lids off.

"Chocolate and cherries? Are you trying to kill me?" Blaine groans.

Kurt sits up quickly. "Oh, god, are you allergic? I'm so sorry, I-"

"No, no, Kurt, calm down," Blaine says, hurrying over to soothe him. "No, I just meant- Those are my favorites." He leans in. "I can't wait to see how much better they're going to taste when I'm eating them off of you."

Kurt groans. "I don't know if I want to kiss you or smack you for that."

Blaine just laughs, easing him back down on the table and grabbing the bowls. "So I can just do whatever I want?"

Kurt shivers, and not because he's mostly naked. The thought of allowing Blaine to do whatever he wants makes him harden a little in his tiny briefs. Blaine sets the bowls down and slowly peels Kurt's briefs off, placing sporadic kisses on his hips and thighs. He doesn't see where Blaine throws them but he feels when Blaine grabs a handful of cherries.

"Now, you're going to have to stay very still," Blaine tells him lowly. He begins placing them on Kurt's body. One in the dip of his throat, on his collarbones, down his sternum, one in his belly button, making Kurt giggle. His hips are next, then one balanced on each knee. "Pucker up."

"What?" Kurt stares at him like he's crazy, there are rules, but Blaine is just looking at him.

"Trust me, okay?"

Kurt considers it for a moment before puckering his lips together. A single cherry is placed on them. "Are you ready for the syrup?"

"Yes," Kurt says out of the side of his mouth, barely more than an exhalation of air so as not to disturb the fruit for which he has become a temporary plate.

Blaine grins and picks up the bowl of chocolate. Kurt can't see what he's doing, but he feels it when the slightly warm chocolate is drizzled on his thighs. His muscles are tight with anticipation and he feels his cock twitching slightly. It seems to catch Blaine's attention because he then drips some on there. Some of the cherries shift as they're drizzled with chocolate and Kurt feels his stomach tightening as Blaine moves on to there.

Except now Blaine is using his fingers to paint something on Kurt's side. He can't look and he can't make out what it is. He wants to ask, but the cherry on his lips keeps him from doing that, as well. Curiosity burns in him, but he fights it down. His nipples get a fair amount of attention, and then his neck. Finally, Blaine's face is hovering above his, grinning wickedly. Kurt is barely able to pull a bitch face before Blaine is tapping the end of his nose with a chocolate covered finger. "Boop."

Kurt glares; the sugar is going to kill his pores.

"I'll be right back, I just want to go wash my hand off before I get started on dessert. I promise I won't be more than thirty seconds."

He vanishes from Kurt's eyeline and Kurt begins counting.

There's a few seconds of Blaine moving around before the water turns on in the bathroom, the sound of splashing, and then the knock of the metal towel holder banging as Blaine dries his hands. More sounds of Blaine hurrying back and then Kurt's breathing a sigh of relief through his nose as Blaine's face appears back over his, his chest now bare.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Good." Blaine climbs onto the table slowly, testing its sturdiness beneath both of their weights. He doesn't care much - he's willing to pay for any broken furniture - he would just rather their night not end in a hospital. The table seems stable, however, barely wiggling when he crawls about. Must be reinforced, he thinks idly, then turns his attention back to Kurt. Moving down to Kurt's thighs, his tongue flicking out to gather some of the chocolate, licking down to gather one of the cherries into his mouth. Kurt can hear him chewing in between licking his way up one thigh. His breath ghosts over Kurt's cock as he moves to his other leg, repeating the process.

Afterwards, he goes for Kurt's half hard cock, licking along the shaft slowly, paying more attention to that than he had anything else, despite it having less chocolate on it. Once Kurt is fully hard, Blaine finally moves to suck up the line of cherries and chocolate on each of his hipbones, much more quickly than he had Kurt's thighs. His covered crotch brushes against Kurt and he can feel the bulge straining the fabric. His hips try to arch as his cock twitches, but Blaine is quick to hold him down, lifting his own hips up and away.

His sides, as it turns out, are ridiculously sensitive, which he finds out when Blaine's tongue begins tracing over whatever Blaine had painted on his side. He's still not able to figure it out, but he honestly couldn't care less. Right now, he just wants Blaine to finish cleaning him up so they can, you know, actually fool around. He's so horny at this point, he doesn't think it will take much before he's coming.

Oh, god, he never knew his nipples were that sensitive. Blaine's tongue swirls around first one and then the other, collecting the chocolate before he sucks the pink bud into his mouth, the tip of his tongue teasing them until they're stiff.

Kurt's barely keeping still at this point, his body writhing and his eyes rolling up into the back of his head. His breath comes out heavily through his nose as he fights to keep his composure. It's a losing battle and he knows it, but it doesn't matter much, because he just has two cherries left, the one on his throat and… and the one on his lips.

The scruff of Blaine's five o'clock shadow rasps along his collarbone as he goes for the cherry there, biting at the chords of Kurt's neck before he sucks the skin into his mouth. Kurt's breathing goes erratic; that's one of the most sensitive spot on his body. The slightest touch there makes him come undone, his eyes rolling back as his hands come up to fumble with Blaine's belt.

"You like that," Blaine hums. He continues to suck at the skin while helping Kurt with his pants and underwear. He doesn't move away until they're pooled around his knees. Kicking them off, he moves until he's straddling Kurt's hips, bracing himself on his forearms so that he's completely hovering over him.

Slowly, purposefully, he lowers his hips so that their cocks line up. "Open your eyes."

Kurt hadn't even known that they had fallen shut. They flutter open to see the heat in Blaine's eyes. He begins rocking his hips down lazily and, still holding Kurt's gaze, he leans down. At the last second, Kurt realizes what Blaine's going to do. There's no time to panic before Blaine's lips are completely closing around the cherry.

His lips are just as soft as Kurt had imagined, sweet with chocolate and cherry juice, brushing against Kurt's for only the barest of second before he's pulling back. He quickly chews and swallows, his hips never stopping for a second. It feels so good and then Blaine's mouth is back on his neck and it's even better, Kurt has never felt anything like it before. He tilts his head to the side to give Blaine more room, his eyes falling shut once again, his legs coming up to hook around Blaine's hips. He's so close that it hurts.

"Fuck, Kurt," Blaine grunts, and Kurt loses it, coming between them because he had never heard Blaine swear before and it was even hotter than he could imagine. He floats in the aftermath of his orgasm for a few seconds while Blaine goes harder and faster against him, his movements erratic, and Kurt's just starting to get sensitive when Blaine comes, swearing into the sweaty skin of Kurt's neck. It feels stiff and Kurt's sure he's going to have marks there tomorrow, but he can't bring himself to care, especially when Blaine kisses his way down to where their come has pooled together on Kurt's stomach. He licks it up, dragging his tongue roughly through the mess.

"Ew, Blaine," Kurt groans, though he can't keep the laughter out of his voice. It takes him a minute to realize what Blaine is actually doing and he sit up in shock. "What-"

"Sh, Kurt, it's okay, I know. But you told me that you're clean and that you get checked out every month, and I know how much of a stickler you are for safety. I trust you," Blaine murmurs, pressing their sweaty foreheads together. Kurt nods, not really believing but trying to wrap his head around what Blaine has just told him.

"Okay, yeah, I- Okay." Kurt takes a deep breath, then winces at the sticky, stiff feeling all over his body. "Come on, let's rinse off, I feel gross."

Blaine laughs but gets off the table, offering his hand to help Kurt do the same. He doesn't let go until they're under the spray and that's only so they can 'help' rinse each other off. Kurt is just about to reach for the shampoo when Blaine stops him.

"Wait, let's get in the tub and soak for a while," Blaine says. "I can't remember the last time I just laid about in a bathtub."

"And this one has more than enough space. Mister, you have yourself a deal." Happiness bubbling up in his chest, Kurt turns off the shower and pulls Blaine over to the huge tub. "Get in; I'll get it started."

Blaine does as he's told, watching as Kurt fiddles with the knobs to make sure the temperature is just right. Then he pulls out a bottle of bubble bath that the hotel provided and, after a moment of contemplation, pours the whole thing in.

"Bubbles make everything better," he informs Blaine as he motions for him to lean forward, climbing in behind him. He situates his legs so they're on either side of Blaine's body, wrapping his arms and legs around Blaine's torso.

"You know, I think I agree."

They sit in silence for several minutes as the bath slowly fills and the scent of lavender perfumes the air. Blaine leans back against Kurt, his head resting on Kurt's shoulder as his body slowly relaxes.

"Will you tell me about yourself?" Kurt asks when Blaine settles back after turning off the water.

"What do you want to know?"

Kurt hums, trying to think of something simple to start with. "Tell me about your parents?"

"Hm, okay, let's see. My mother was a music teacher, and she met my father at a charity benefit his extremely wealthy parents were throwing to raise money for some music program. They got married, had my older brother, and then me ten years later. My father then apparently had some mid-life crisis and divorced her to marry someone that was only a little older than I was at the time. And, when he left, he took all of his money with him."

"So it had nothing to do with you being gay?" Kurt confirms, reaching for the big spongy loofah sitting on the edge of the tub and dipping it into the water. He squeezes out the excess and begins washing at Blaine's chest.

"No, he was okay with that; he just couldn't stand being around us anymore, I guess. She died, when I was sixteen. I was angry with him for a long time." He shifts around to glance up at Kurt. "It took me fifty thousand dollars in therapy to say that I was very angry with him. I hadn't spoken to him since I called to tell him about her passing. He sent roses and told me never to call him again, that his new wife wouldn't like it." There's a beat of silence. "His was the second company I ever took over."

Kurt lets out a sad chuckle. "At least you got even with him. I'm sorry to hear about your mom, though. I know what it's like to lose a parent."

"Your father?"

"And my mother."

Blaine hugs him the best he can from their position. "I'm really sorry to hear that. How old were you?"

"My mother died of cancer when I was eight." Kurt sighs, laying his cheek on top of Blaine's. "I can barely remember her now and that just makes the pain worse. There's a dresser, their dresser, in a storage unit in Ohio that still smells like her perfume. My aunt, she said she would pay to keep it up until I could find a place."

"That's very nice of her."

"Yeah, she's pretty awesome. She wanted me to come live with her after my dad died, but I- I didn't want to be around anyone or any of those memories."

"How old were you?"

"Fifteen. He had a heart attack while he was working at his garage and went into a coma. He never came out of it. I ran away the day after his funeral; just packed up what I could fit into a suitcase and never looked back." He watches Blaine play with their fingers for a second. "I can never decide which one hurt more. My mother was lost to me when I was so young, but after she died, my dad- We were all each other had. We took care of each other." Kurt sighs, the water sloshing around them. "I guess it doesn't matter; it hurts either way."

Blaine is silent, absorbing everything Kurt had told him. "So you came here when you were fifteen? How old are you now?"

"I just turned nineteen a couple of months ago."

"Are you telling me I gave alcohol to a minor?"

"You act like that's the worst thing you could have done!" Kurt smacks his chest and they laugh.

"So you've been on your own for four years?"

"Not completely. My aunt will send me money if I ask for it, but I hate asking. I want to make my own way and not live off of her kindness. I know she can't really afford it."

"Is that why you became a hooker?"

"Partially. I had a few odd jobs, but they didn't really pay the bills, and that was before I got back in contact with my aunt. I met this girl, Tina, and she made it sound so great. I- I was desperate and hungry."

"How old were you then?"

Kurt's voice is quiet when he finally says, "Sixteen. I lost my virginity to some random guy and cried the entire time. After that, it became easier. I learned how to distance myself from the job. I've even had a few boyfriends, but they never lasted long. I just- That's just how it is now. I do what I have to to survive."

They sit there, running their hands gently over each other in comforting motions.

"Can we be done with the sad stuff?" Kurt asks, squeezing Blaine closer. "I don't like being sad when I'm with you."

Blaine laughs. "Yeah, let's be done with it."

"Hey, Blaine?"

"Hm?"

"How old are you?"

"I am one hundred and sixty-eight."

Kurt laughs, smacking Blaine's chest. "Don't be a butt!"

"Fine! I'm forty-two."

"Wow, you're old."

"Jerk." Blaine attempts to swat at Kurt's thigh, but it's too difficult due to the water. "Okay, so what's your best memory of your dad?"

"Oh, that's easy. Before I came out, I was down in my basement with two of my girl friends…"

They trade stories, Blaine getting all into a story about the summer before his mother died and he's bouncing around. Kurt tries to control himself, but Blaine's ass is rubbing against him and, well, he's only human. Blaine is nearly finished when he suddenly pushes back hard, making Kurt groan and drop his head down on Blaine's back.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, you were just bouncing around so much, I'm sorry." Kurt's cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"It's fine!" Blaine shifts around, this time purposely rubbing his ass against Kurt's dick, before pulling away completely and turning to face Kurt. His hand lands on Kurt's knee and slides up his thigh. "Since I created this problem, I should be the one to make it go away." He cups Kurt's cock and Kurt moans, his head falling back and his fingers scrabbling for Blaine's shoulders.

"Yes, that- oh- that seems fair."

Blaine's lips reattach themselves to Kurt's neck, right back over the spot he had found earlier, and he sucks while stroking Kurt under the water. Nails bite into his shoulder blades as Kurt grows lax, his throat humming with moans as Blaine works him over. He brings his spare hand up to pinch and pull at Kurt's nipples, his thumb rubbing over the hardened nubs.

"Oh, god, Blaine!" Kurt's hips buck up, fucking Blaine's fist. "Oh! Oh, a little tight- Just like that!" Blaine pumps faster, his fist tighter, the suction he applies to Kurt's neck harder, until the boy comes, his entire body seizing. He's pretty sure Kurt's grip on Blaine is the only thing holding him above the water.

"Ew," Kurt groans when he finally catches his breath.

"What?"

"We're sitting in what basically amounts to dirt and semen soup."

Blaine outright laughs, shaking his head. "I see you have your priorities in order."

Kurt wrinkles his nose, weakly slapping at Blaine's back. "Come on, let's go take a shower, we've been sitting in our own filth for a long time."

"You're beautiful when you come," Blaine says when they're in the shower stall. "I don't think I've ever told you."

"I'm usually not facing your direction, either, so it makes sense." Kurt smirks as he steps beneath the water.

"Then I'll have to make it a point to make sure you're looking at me from now on."

Kurt hates the way his chest swells at the words and Blaine hates the way his heart seems to have taken a trip down to his stomach.

They shower together, Kurt insisting that Blaine let him wash his hair.

"You just want to run your fingers through my curls."

"You're right, I do, now let me wash your hair."

Blaine pouts. "I feel like you only like me for my hair."

No, I like you for so many other reasons.

"Don't be silly; that's just a bonus."

Blaine submits anyway, practically purring as Kurt massages his scalp. In his mind, there is a constant stream of pictures of the way Kurt looks when coming and by the time Kurt is done with his hair, he's already hard again, despite not being as resilient as he once was.

After the final rinse of Blaine's hair, Kurt turns around, not realizing the effect he had on Blaine. His ass, round and pert, is on full display and Blaine's mouth waters. He wants to claim Kurt, to mark him with something more permanent than the hickeys he had left on his neck.

He crowds in, pulling Kurt out of the water and backing him up against the far wall.

"Blaine, what- Oof!" Blaine flips him around, grinding his cock on Kurt's ass.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No."

"Can I?" Blaine nips at Kurt's earlobe as he presses two fingers along Kurt's crack.

"Oh, um, we- there's no lube in here and I'm not stretched."

"That's not what I meant." Blaine licks a path down the long line of Kurt's back and uses his thumbs to part his ass cheeks. "I want to try something different."

Kurt's eyes are as round as saucers as he stares down at Blaine. "Yeah, I- Okay."

That's all it takes before Blaine is pulling his hips back and licking him firmly from his perineum to the top of his crack. He can hear Kurt's nails scratching at the tiles as he cries out, his hips arching back even further.

"Holy shi- Blaine!"

He uses all of his skill, the tip of his tongue teasing Kurt's rim, massaging his perineum with his thumb. Long, firm licks followed by light, teasing ones that have Kurt whining and trying to get closer. His tongue presses against Kurt's hole, not trying to breach him, but testing the water. If the moans coming from Kurt are any indication, he wouldn't be opposed to it. Kurt's cock is hard again, too sensitive for Blaine to touch. It would be the third time in less than two hours and, to be honest, Blaine's not sure how much Kurt would actually be able to come at this point. Still, he's responding and encouraging him to continue, so Blaine does, licking and sucking at Kurt's rim until it's loose enough for his tongue to slip in. He tastes good, fresh and clean, and different.

Remembering his thoughts from earlier, Blaine decides to mark Kurt in another way, besides giving him something he's never had before. He moves away from Kurt's hole and nips at the inside of one of his cheeks, not hard enough to bruise, but hard enough for it to leave a mark for no one but Kurt and him to know about. Kurt moans, wiggling his ass and obviously trying to get Blaine to go back to what he was doing, so Blaine does, redoubling his efforts until Kurt is coming again, a few small, weak streaks hitting the wall in front of him.

Blaine stands, pressing his front to Kurt's back and pushing Kurt's legs together. He angles his cock so that it's in between Kurt's thighs and starts fucking him, arms tight around Kurt's middle so he can hold him up.

"I'm sorry I couldn't see you come," he grunts in Kurt's ear, "but your ass looks so good." Kurt moans, his face turns towards Blaine, even though his eyes are shut. "Do you want to taste? I can still taste you on my tongue; you tasted so good, baby."

Kurt's nose wrinkles and he turns his face away. "Ew, no, keep that to yourself, you dirty old man."

Blaine laughs, his hips starting to jerk. "Can't say I'm old just 'cause you know my age now."

"Nope, fair game."

Blaine moans, burying his face in Kurt's neck as he comes on his thighs, his teeth sinking into the tender skin. "Jerk," he finally manages after he finishes coming, his grip finally loosening around Kurt's waist.

"I'm still adorable."

Later, after they've finished washing each other off and Kurt has gone to lie down after being told about the polo match they would be going to the next day, Blaine puts the last two bowls on the cart and wheels it outside. He calls for it to be picked up and settles down on the sofa where he had discarded his tablet the day before. The tie he doesn't even remember removing from Kurt is there, the one that Kurt had said he had bought for Blaine.

Blaine smiles, thinking how well it will go with his suit for tomorrow.

#pretty woman!Klaine #older!blaine #prostitue!kurt #klaine #az writes

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azraeldoesnotdispute · 10 years

Text

Make Believe (It's You) 2/6 +Epilogue

Rating: NC-17

Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, Eli C./Chandler

Warnings: Non-con in a later chapter (will be marked), prostitution, minor character death discussed, drug use

Word Count: 7,399/41,989

Summary: Pretty Woman AU where Blaine is a wealthy business man who hires a prostitute named Kurt to stay with him for a week.

On LJ | On ff.net | On S&C | On AO3

Or read it here

The bed he's lying in is soft, too soft, and unfamiliar with its smell and the fabric covering the pillow his head is resting on.

Kurt lets out a little groan as he stretches and turns over, eyes squinting against the bright light flooding the room through the curtains. The room is definitely not the small one he shares with Tina, too warm and bright and open. It takes a couple of seconds before he remembers about Blaine and smiles. That had probably been the easiest five hundred dollars he had ever made in his life. Blaine was nice; he smelled good; he was clean. And he had been willing to pay all that money just for Kurt to spend most of the night sleeping the best sleep he had had in years, since his father-

No, he isn't going to go there. He shoves the thoughts, the memories, down and rolls out of the bed. There is a fluffy white robe hanging on the back of the door of the bathroom when he goes in there to use the toilet and he happily wraps it around himself. It is as warm as it looks and smells clean and fresh. Kurt pads out into the main room, where he hears Blaine talking on the phone.

"Oh, and Eli? About your car?" A panicked voice comes from the phone, though Kurt can't make out the words. "It handles like a dream." Blaine chuckles as he hangs up, setting the phone aside and turning at Kurt's quiet, "Good morning."

"Too well. I kind of forgot where I was." Kurt has the decency to at least look a little embarrassed but he is feeling too relaxed to really care that much. He wanders outside for a brief walk around the balcony before returning to where Blaine is watching him.

"Are you hungry? I ordered a little bit of everything; I wasn't sure what you would like." He lifts the tops off of two plates of food, but Kurt sits on one of the chairs and reaches for one of the chocolate croissants sitting in a basket in the middle of the table instead.

"Did you sleep any last night?" Kurt asks to break the silence.

"I did on the couch for a little while," Blaine replies, flicking his finger at the screen of his tablet.

"So you don't drink, you barely sleep and you don't really eat. What kind of drugs are you on?"

Blaine finally sets the tablet down, looking at Kurt. "Excuse me?"

"Drugs. I mean, I don't do them, but I'm not going to knock you if you do them. Something has to keep you going."

Blaine lets out a snort, shaking his head. "I'm high on life, that's all. No drugs for me."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Wow." Kurt picks at his croissant, chewing slowly. "What is it you do, then, that gives you such a high? Because I know you're not a lawyer."

"Nope, not a lawyer. I buy companies that are in financial difficulties and then I break them apart and sell the pieces off to the highest bidder." Blaine turns back to his tablet.

"Financial difficulties, huh? So you must get them pretty cheap."

"Well, the company I'm buying this week, I'll be getting for the cheap, cheap price of six billion dollars."

Kurt chokes on his food. "S-six billion- Holy shit."

"Yup."

"That's crazy." Kurt swallows and takes a drink of orange juice. "Your parents must be proud of having such a smart son."

Blaine's lips quirk into a sad smile. "If you'll excuse me?"

He stands, leaving his tablet on the table. Kurt watches him leave, back into the bedroom, and then starts to really tear into the food, eating until he's full on the first real meal he's had in weeks. Business has been slow and he isn't about to lose the opportunity to eat what he can before he is back out on the streets. He wonders if he could get some food to go, but doesn't want to press his luck by asking. Instead, he goes to the bedroom, where Blaine is now fully dressed in trousers and a white button up, attempting his thin black tie.

"So you don't actually have six billion dollars, do you?"

"What? No. I get some from investors, from banks, stuff like that."

"Here, let me do that." Kurt slaps his hands away from the tie and hops on the counter. "So you just tear companies apart? You don't make anything; you don't do anything?" His fingers are quick as he flips and tucks and then tightens the tie. "There, much better."

"That's- that's really good. No, we just buy companies, really." Blaine watches him as he hops off of the counter and walks away. "How did you learn to do that?"

"I screwed the debate team in high school," Kurt says with a smirk. When Blaine just looks at him, he rolls his eyes. "Believe it or not, I wasn't always a hooker. I used to be a perfectly well dressed, respectable young man. I liked ties and bow ties." Blaine hums as he adjusts the tie and tucks it into his pants before slipping on his waistcoat. "Say, do you mind if take a dip in your tub before I go?"

"Sure, just try not to drown."

"Oh, think of the scandal that would cause!" Kurt winks.

888

Blaine's gathering up his things, preparing to head to the office, when his cell phone buzzes, Mozart tinkling from the speakers.

"Hello, Eli."

"Blaine, hey, I just wanted to let you know that tonight is all set up with Evans. I'm sending you an email with the details. Just to let you know, though, he's bringing his son with him."

"Why?" A beautiful voice is pouring out of the bathroom, the acoustics in there making it echo out into the foyer. Blaine follows it like a siren's call as Eli keeps talking.

"Do I look like a mind reader? I don't know, I think he's grooming him to take over or something."

"Yeah, his name is Lucas. Very determined. He plays polo for the Westlake Club."

"Why the hell did you ask if you already knew?" Blaine snickers, imagining the irritated look on Eli's face. "Never mind. Look, I really don't feel comfortable with you going by yourself tonight. Why don't you let me make a few calls; I know a lot of hot guys."

"No, you don't," Blaine counters, pushing open the bathroom door to see Kurt lounging in the bathtub, filled with bubbles, and he has ear plugs stuck in his ears, the cord leading to a smartphone, singing along to Teenage Dream.

"What is that?"

"The housekeeper is singing." Blaine feels creepy watching him, but Kurt looks beautiful like this, more relaxed than when Blaine had seen him sleeping after he got out of the shower last night. The wheels in his head are turning swiftly, plans and ideas unfolding.

"She's pretty good. Anyway, about that date-"

"No thanks, Eli. Besides, I already have a date."

"Anyone I know?"

"No."

There's a pause and then Eli sighs. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"No. Why don't you focus on finding out what Evans is hiding and I'll see you in a little while." He hangs up before Eli can reply and Blaine smirks. It's going to drive his old friend crazy not knowing.

He perches on the edge of the tub, smiling stupidly until Kurt opens his eyes. He looks completely embarrassed, pulling his earplugs out. "Gotta love Katy Perry."

"More than life itself."

"Do I need to get going?" Kurt starts sitting up, but Blaine stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"No, not yet. Listen, I have a business proposition for you, if you will."

"I'm all ears."

"I'm going to be in town until Sunday. I would like to pay you to keep me company for the week, to be at my beck and call, as it were."

Kurt blinks at him. "What?"

"I need someone to escort around to dinners and private clubs and such."

"A rich, good looking guy like you? How do you not have people knocking down your door?"

"I don't want any romantic entanglements this week and I don't have time for them either, as the ex-boyfriend currently moving out of my New York apartment and the ex-husband living in my ex house in Long Island can attest to."

"So it's just easier for you to buy a hooker for the week."

Blaine shrugs. "Pretty much."

"So six days?"

"Yes. How much?"

"Let's see... Eight thousand." Kurt raises an eyebrow challengingly at him.

"Five hundred a night for six days is three thousand."

"But you're also asking for days. My time is valuable."

"Six thousand."

"Seven."

"Done."

Kurt's eyes nearly bug out of his head. "Holy shit!" He sinks completely into the water, his long legs kicking a bit and sloshing the water.

"Kurt? Is that a yes? Kurt!"

The boy finally emerges, laughing and sputtering through the bubbles clinging to his face. "Yes! Yes, that's a yes!"

Blaine laughs with him, grabbing a hand towel and gently knocking some of the bubbles away. "Once you're done, we'll talk some more, okay? I'm going to finish getting ready."

888

Kurt is still giddy when he finishes rinsing in the shower. He had been too excited after Blaine's proposal to linger in the tub, instead hopping out and using some of the obviously expensive soap in the shower to clean up before toweling his hair dry and wrapping the towel around his waist. The eyeliner he had been wearing had left the slightest of smudges under his eyes, but they are quickly wiped away using some sweet-smelling facial lotion left in a shallow bowl by the sink by the hotel staff. He uses the blow dryer and some hairspray to sweep his hair back in its usual 'just fucked' look, though without the green hair dye.

Feeling better, he goes into the bedroom, where Blaine is moving around, clipping silver cuff links into the holes of his sleeves and snapping them closed.

"I'll pay you in full at the end of the week. Now, while you're here, you'll need to be dressed appropriately, since we may be going out evenings," Blaine says, not looking at Kurt as he buttons his waistcoat. He takes in the sight of Kurt's naked torso as he passes to his suit jacket. He digs in a pocket and pulls out his wallet, counting out several bills. "Take this and go buy yourself some new clothes. Formal, business casual, casual, a little bit of everything."

Blaine checks his watch and starts walking, continuing to talk as he puts his jacket on and grabs his bag, bulging with electronics and papers. "Now, I have to go, but if you need me, my cell and office number are on the desk in the foyer. I need you to be ready and waiting at six thirty tonight."

He's about to open the door when Kurt says, "I'll see you tonight." Blaine barely stops, but he does smile at Kurt sincerely before closing the door behind him.

Kurt manages to hold his squeal of delight in for all of three seconds. Giddily dancing around the room, he hears his phone blaring True Colors and runs back into the bedroom, where his phone had been dropped on the nightstand.

"Tay, you're never going to guess what happened!" he chirps happily.

888

After dropping an envelope off at the front desk with Tina's name on the front and a firm demand that it not be opened, Kurt heads out to Rodeo Drive, a wad of cash in his pocket and a bit of a pep in his step. He sees people staring at him, at his worn clothes, rumpled after a night on the floor, but doesn't think anything of it until he enters one of the shops. He's content with browsing for the moment; it's mostly full of boring clothes, in dull shades, but maybe he can find something decent.

"Can I help you?" a snooty, falsely cheerful voice asks.

Kurt turns to see a tiny slip of a girl with long brown hair and a hideous sweater. "Not with that sweater."

The girl gasps, her face contorting in rage. "Excuse me?"

"That sweater is positively heinous; I would slap whoever gave it to you."

"What's going on over here?" An older man rushes over at the girl's squawk of outrage, eyes flicking over Kurt with something akin to disgust.

"This vagabond just insulted me!" the girl snaps.

"Vagabond?" Kurt glares at her.

"Sir, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the man says.

"Excuse me?"

"It's obvious you don't belong here." The man sneers, looking Kurt up and down openly. "We don't have anything for your type. All of our pieces are high quality, and I won't have you insulting my employees. Please leave."

They're both glaring at him and he feels humiliated, the tips of his ears burning. "Fine." He turns on his heel, holding his head up high as he storms out. He wishes the door could slam shut, and curses the stupid air compressor things that stop it from being able to. He makes it all the way to the lobby of the hotel without letting a tear fall, determined to make it to the room before letting himself have a good cry, but a voice stops him.

"Excuse me, sir, may I help you?" An arm reaches out to grab him and he jerks back on instinct.

"What."

A severe-looking woman with blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun is standing there. "I said may I help you?"

"I was going to my room." Kurt turns to continue, but she's stops him again.

"Do you have a key?"

"Crap, I forgot the little card thing. Um, I'm on the top floor, the penthouse." He's going to kill Blaine for sending him out on this stupid mission for new clothes and then not giving him a way back into the hotel room, on top of the terrible shopping experience.

"You're a guest here?"

"I'm here with someone."

"And who would that be?"

"Blaine."

"Blaine?" She trails off, lifting an eyebrow questioningly.

"Uh, Blaine…" Shit, what was his last name? "Blaine… Blaine…"

The elevator suddenly dings and a familiar head pokes out. "He knows me!" Kurt says, pointing at the elevator operator.

"Noah!" the woman barks, making the man jump. She motions him over. "Did you just get off of the night shift?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you know this man?"

"Yes, he came in last night with Mr. Anderson." The man, Noah, wrinkles his nose but submits to her rebuttoning his collar with the exasperation of someone who has been through it several times before.

"Anderson, that's it! Thanks, Noah." Kurt gets into the open elevator, but is followed by the woman, who catches him by the arm and gently leads him out. "Are you kidding me? What now? I already told you who I was here with!"

"I just want to have a little chat with you, sir, right this way. Thank you, Noah," she adds as she leads Kurt off. He grumbles under his breath the whole way to her office and flops down, irritated, once they get there. "Now, what's your name, sir?"

"What do you want it to be?"

The woman gives him a severe look as she leans against the desk, standing in front of him. "Don't toy with me, young man."

"Kurt."

"Thank you, Kurt. Now, I run a tight ship here at the Regent Beverly Wilshire. I don't allow any nonsense that might go on at other hotels to occur within these walls." She folds her hands in front of her, holding his eyes with her own green ones. "However, Mr. Anderson is a very special customer and we tend to think of our very special customers as friends. We would expect him to sign in any additional guests, but since he's a friend, we're going to overlook that. I'm assuming that you are…" She trails off, waiting for him to fill in the blank.

Kurt's mind races before he stutters out, "His nephew." Oh, god, that's gross, don't think about it.

"Of course. So I'm assuming that once Mr. Anderson leaves, I will no longer see you, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good." She straightens up and starts to move behind her desk. "Now that we have that all cleared up, I would like to encourage you to dress a little more appropriately. That will be all."

"No, that's not all. I tried to- I tried to get some new clothes, I have all this money, but there was this bitch at the shop and they wouldn't let me buy anything. I tried, okay? I need a suit for dinner tonight and nobody wanted to help me." The tears he had been keeping at bay finally make an appearance, burning his eyes as he tries to calm himself down.

The woman watches him carefully for a second before picking up the phone on her desk.

"Great, just great, you're going to call the cops on me. I should have known." Kurt rolls his eyes, accepting the tissue she holds out to him.

"Men's clothing. Artie, please." A moment later, "Artie, hello, this is Quinn Fabray, at the Regent Bev-" Quinn grins. "Yes, I know. Yes, that sounds like a great idea. Listen, I have a young man here that could really use your expertise; he's a special guest. The nephew of a very special guest. Mmhm, yes. Great, I'll send him along. Thank you."

Quinn hands him a card with a name and an address. "Go there and ask for Artie; he'll be able to help you."

Kurt can feel more tears stinging his eyes, this time from happiness, as he grasps her hand and shakes it. "Thank you."

It seems like no time at all and then he's opening the doors to a high-end shop, a bit more modern than the other shop and a lot less dull. A man in a wheelchair rolls up to him and offers his hand. "Hi, are you Kurt?"

Kurt takes his hand, shaking it firmly. "I am. Artie?"

"That's me! Follow me, home slice, we'll get you dressed up all pretty for your uncle." Artie leads the way towards the back of the store.

"Artie, can I tell you a secret? He's not really my uncle."

"They never are, dawg."

888

Blaine paces the room as the projector rolls, pictures in a powerpoint flashing on the screen as one of his colleagues drones on about things he already knows about Evans Shipping and the vast possibilities the real estate presents. The door opening behind him catches his attention as one of the interns rushes to Eli's side, whispering.

"Blaine, we just got an update about Evans. John, hold the powerpoint, would you?"

The lights come on and they all blink to adjust their eyes as they focus on the intern.

"Speak," Eli barks.

"Evans just got the inside track on a $350 million contract to build Navy destroyers."

"What?" Eli turns to one of the men sitting around the table. "You said they had nothing! This is going to botch the whole deal."

"Maybe it's a good thing we're finding out about this now?" one of the men pipe up. "I mean, those stocks could go through the roof; it might be a good time to back out."

"Back out? Are you kidding me?" Eli yelled. "We've got too much time and money invested in this deal!"

"Eli, calm down," Blaine says. Eli takes a deep breath before sitting down. "Who do we know on the Appropriations committee?"

"Senator James," Eli supplies after a moment of wracking his brain.

"Good. Give him a call, ask him to bury the contract. Evans can't get the money if he can't get the contract, and the Navy isn't going to spend that much money without going through Appropriations."

The intern scurries away to make the calls while Eli stands and starts pacing. "I don't understand how you people could have missed that."

"That's why I leave all my worrying to you," Blaine says, patting Eli's shoulder as he passes on his way to grab his bag. "Tom, send me the rest of the powerpoint, would you?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Anderson."

"Thank you. Eli, I'll be in your office." Blaine is almost out the door when Eli reaches out for him.

"Blaine, everything set for the meeting tonight?"

"You set it up and I have faith in you."

"As well you should. Listen… Who is this guy you're going with?"

"Nobody you know," Blaine says with a smirk.

"Jackass."

888

Quinn is busy with someone, but Kurt's a little pressed for time, so he apologizes profusely to the guy she's speaking with as he pulls her aside.

"Hey, I just wanted to say thank you. Artie was amazing and I really appreciate your help."

"It's no problem, Kurt." Quinn smiles at him with a measure of warmth that hadn't been there earlier in the day. "I can expect you to be dressed correctly the next time I see you?" she asks, her eyes flicking to the clothes from the night before that he's still wearing.

"Yes, I just didn't want to mess up the suit. Thanks again, Quinn."

Kurt practically bounces upstairs, armed with the keycard Quinn had given him after their first meeting. The phone in the room is ringing when he gets there and he rushes to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Do not ever answer the phone."

"Blaine?"

"That's me."

"Why the hell are you calling me, then?"

"I don't have your cell number. Anyway, I wanted to remind you to be ready at six thirty, sharp. I'll be waiting for you in the lobby."

"You got it, boss. Where are we going, anyway?"

"To a restaurant called the Voltaire."

"Oh, French, merci."

"You speak French?"

"Oui!" He rattles out several sentences in French and Blaine doesn't know what he's saying, but fuck, that's hot.

"You are a man of many talents, Kurt."

"Baby, you don't know the half of it."

"I'll see you tonight."

They hang up and Kurt sits back, rolling his eyes at his 'boss.' He's almost to the bathroom when the phone rings again and he rushes back over.

"Hello?"

"I told you don't answer the phone."

"Then stop calling me!"

Kurt can hear Blaine chuckling on the other end of the line before he hangs up. Unable to keep the smile off his face, he goes to get ready for his big not-date.

888

Blaine enters the lobby, eyes already searching for Kurt. He's running a bit late and he was hoping that Kurt was already going to be waiting for him, but a quick sweep of the room shows there is no lithe young man there for him. He's about to ask the front desk to call up to his room when a woman begins following him.

"Mr. Anderson? I'm Quinn Fabray, the manager of this hotel."

Blaine spared her a quick glance and a distracted smile. "Yes, hello. If you'll excuse me, I have a call I need-"

"Actually, I have a message for you, sir."

"A message?"

"From your nephew."

This made Blaine stop. "My nephew?"

"The young man staying with you," Ms. Fabray clarifies.

Oh, thank god it wasn't some random kid claiming to be Cooper's long lost son. "I think we both know he's not really my nephew."

"Of course."

"So what is the message?" Blaine asks.

"That he's waiting for you in the lounge." Quinn points to the wide arch that opens to a low lit bar area.

"Ah. Well, thank you very much, Ms. Fabray."

"Have a good evening, sir."

Blaine heads the way she pointed, eyes peeled for Kurt, but he's still nowhere to be found.

Until he turns around.

Gone is the fucked out bed head the boy normally sports. His hair has been freshly trimmed and neatly done, swooped up into a high pompadour in the front, completely free of green streaks. He smiles brightly at Blaine and steps gracefully down from the raised dais of the bar to stand in front of Blaine.

"You are late."

"You are stunning."

Kurt blushes, the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears pinking. "I suppose I could forgive you this time."

Blaine doesn't try to fight down his smile as he offers his arm. "I will do my best to ensure it never happens again. Shall we?"

Kurt loops his arm through Blaine's and lets him lead the way outside to the waiting limo. Blaine can't seem to tear his eyes away and Kurt alternately preens and blushes under his stare. The ride is spent in comfortable silence and it seems to take no time at all before they're pulling up to Voltaire. A valet opens the door and Blaine slides out first, offering his hand, which Kurt takes gratefully. The building looks very nice, high-end and elegant, and there's a strip of red carpet leading to the door, which is held open by another man.

"Wow, this place…" Kurt breathes, his eyes huge and Blaine cannot take his eyes off of him.

"Lovely, isn't it?"

"It is." They're led to their table by the maitre d' and when they arrive, they find that their dining companions for the night are already there, conversing quietly with each other.

"Mr. Evans."

The men stand; the older one, about Blaine's age with blond hair, reaches out to shake Blaine's hand. "Mr. Anderson, how are you? This is my son, Luke."

"Pleased to meet you both," Blaine says, shaking Luke's hand. "This is my friend, Kurt Hummel. Kurt, Sam and Luke Evans."

"So nice to meet you both," Kurt says, shaking both of their hands before they sit, Blaine politely scooting Kurt's chair forward. They're just getting comfortable when the waiter comes by, passing out menus. Kurt frowns because none of the things listed have a price.

"Just pick whatever you want," Blaine whispers out the side of his mouth.

It's difficult to choose, but he finally finds something, and then it's only a matter of waiting once their order has been taken. He knows what Blaine's doing, how he's trying to buy the company, but he doesn't know what he's supposed to be doing. Is he just supposed to be arm candy?

He spends most of the meal watching Luke and Blaine interact, Sam occasionally pitching in thoughts and talking a bit with Kurt, but mostly watching his son in pride. It isn't until they're halfway through the main course that things come to a head.

"So what, exactly are you planning to do with my family's company, should you ever get control of it like you think you will?" Luke asks.

"I'm going to break it up into pieces and sell them off," Blaine replies easily, cracking an escargot open and eating the snail inside. Kurt tries not to wrinkle his nose; he had never really been one to like that particular delicacy.

"I don't know if I like the idea of you taking 150 years of my family's sweat and blood and turning it into some bastardized version of a garage sale," Sam says, straightening in his seat.

"Mr. Evans, the amount of money I'm willing to pay is going to make you a very rich man."

"I don't want to be rich; I want to keep my family's legacy intact." For the first time, Sam's voice raises angrily, startling Kurt, who accidentally spills some of his lobster bisque on the table when his hand jerks.

"Oh, no, I'm so sorry," he says, attempting to mop it up with his napkin, despite the sudden swarm of servers appearing to help. It takes a few minutes to sort everything out and by the time the table is covered with a fresh cloth, tempers have cooled enough to continue with their meal.

Ice cream, meant to cleanse the palate. Kurt takes a small bite as he watches them get right back down to business.

"You know, I met your father a few months ago," Sam says casually. "What was his name, John?"

"James."

"Ah, yes. He's not quite the bastard everyone says he is."

"No, I have the monopoly on that," Blaine says.

"He must be so proud."

"Unlikely, not that it matters anymore. He passed away recently."

Sam looks taken back and a little sorry he brought it up. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"I'm sorry, too," Kurt adds. Blaine just lets it roll off his shoulders with a shrug.

"Mr. Evans, you asked for this meeting, so please tell me what I can do for you."

"Leave my shipyard alone."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. I own twenty million shares."

"I'll buy it back from you."

"You don't have the money for it."

"Not yet, but we're getting a contract to build ten destroyers for the Navy," Luke says smugly.

"No, you're not; that contract is dead on the water, as it were, and that's where it will remain," Blaine retorts, effectively shooting down their last high card.

"What?"

"How in the hell did you manage that? Got dirty politicians in your pockets?" Luke snaps.

"Calm down, Luke, calm down," Sam says soothingly, laying his hand on his son's arm. "Mr. Anderson here likes to play hardball."

"Yes, I do."

Luke tosses down his napkin and starts to stand. "Well, I've heard enough of this. Kurt, it was truly a great pleasure meeting you, but I'm afraid I need some air. Father, Mr. Anderson." And with that, he's gone, leaving a stressed-looking Sam behind.

"I'm going to join him outside, if you don't mind. You two enjoy your dinner." Sam stands and Blaine follows suit. "You're not the only one who knows how to play hardball, Anderson."

"I look forward to it, Mr. Evans." Once Sam has gone, Blaine sits back down to an awkward silence.

"He's seems nice," Kurt offers tentatively. Blaine chuckles drily.

"Apparently money doesn't buy loyalty." Servers begin sitting their salads down, but Blaine waves them off from the two empty seats. "No, just the two, thank you."

"Yes, sir." The server bows respectfully and backs away.

The rest of the meal and the trip back to the hotel are spent in silence and as soon as they're back, Kurt goes to the bedroom to take off his shoes and suit jacket, leaving his waistcoat unbuttoned. It has been years since he has worn nice clothes like these and, even though it feels like coming home, he isn't used to it the way he had once been. A quick search finds Blaine sitting in a chair, half out of the doorway of the balcony.

"I thought you never came out here?" Kurt asks. "You never really told me why."

Blaine smiles ruefully. "I don't like heights."

"But you're out here now…"

Blaine shrugs, looking at his chair. "Not really. Only a little bit."

"Are you okay?" Kurt asks, tilting his head to the side as he observes Blaine. "It was kind of a quiet end to dinner tonight." When Blaine just nods absent mindedly, Kurt barrels on. "I thought the business was good, though. He wants to keep his company, understandably, but you want to buy it."

"Thanks for the recap."

"There's just one problem."

"And what's that?"

"You like the elder Mr. Evans."

"What makes you say that?"

Kurt shrugs, hopping up on the thick ledge. "I can tell things like that."

"Can you- Kurt, please get down from there, you're making me nervous." Blaine sits up straight, his entire body posed to move if he needs to.

"Why? Because I'm sitting up here?" Kurt gets a mischievous look on his face and leans back. "What if I started falling? Would you save me?"

"That's not funny, Kurt." Blaine looks like he's about to have a panic attack.

"Oh, look-"

"I'm not looking!" Blaine closes his eyes and looks away.

"No hands!"

Blaine still won't look at him, so Kurt stops messing around, leaning forward and hopping down easily. "Okay, okay, I'm getting down. See, all safe?"

Blaine finally peeks when Kurt comes to stand next to him. "Thank you. Look, the fact of the matter is, it's irrelevant if I like Sam or not. I don't let myself get emotionally involved in business; it always ends badly."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. That's why no kissing on the mouth. It's too personal, leads to emotions and that's not a good thing when you're turning tricks. You gotta stay numb, like you said. I mean, when I'm with a guy, I go all robot and just do it."

Blaine gives him a look and Kurt quickly backtracks. "I mean, obviously not when I'm with you."

"Save it, Kurt," Blaine says. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry to hear about your dad," Kurt tries to change the subject. "When did he die?"

"Last month."

"Oh. I know what it's like to lose a parent. Do you miss him?"

"Not really. I hadn't spoken with him in sixteen years. I didn't know he had died until my brother called me the next day."

"Oh." Kurt kneels down next to him, resting his chin on the arm of the chair. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," comes the answer, firm but not harsh.

"Okay, I have an idea. How about we strip down and just veg out on the sofa and watch some really trashy reality television."

"Veg out, huh?"

"Yeah, lay out like broccoli."

"Broccoli."

"What? It's delicious, it just gets a bad rap."

Blaine laughs, standing. "Look, I- I'm going to go down to the lounge for a bit, just make yourself comfortable here, okay? Veg out." Without waiting for a reply, Blaine stands and trails two fingers down the line of Kurt's jaw before he's leaving, the door clicking closed behind him as he exits the penthouse.

Kurt sighs. He feels bad about pushing Blaine like he did about his dad. If anyone knows what it's like to lose parents, it's him. He gathers up some chocolate and settles himself down on the sofa, ready for a night of binge eating and an I Dream Of Jeannie marathon.

He jolts awake to laughter recorded decades ago and looks around. The bed is empty and the room is dark. Kurt fumbles around for his phone on the coffee table and squints at the bright light of the screen.

3:07 a.m.

With a groan, Kurt rolls off the sofa, pulling on the robe he had grabbed from the bathroom after he took off his clothes from dinner. Noah is on night duty again and he's more than happy to take Kurt down to the lobby. He points the way to the lounge with a smile and Kurt pads there to find several people putting up the chairs and tables for the night while the bartender cleans up the bar.

And there, playing the piano set up on the stage with all the grace and skill of a classically trained pianist, is Blaine.

Kurt walks slowly towards him, ignoring the looks he gets, and stands there, waiting until Blaine finishes the piece with a little flourish. There's scattered applause and Blaine turns.

"Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week."

"I didn't you know you played," Kurt says, moving to stand next to the piano.

"There's a lot you don't know about me. I don't play often anymore, mostly just for strangers."

Kurt hums, moving closer. "You know, it's pretty lonely upstairs, all by myself."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Blaine doesn't take his eyes off of Kurt as he says, "Would you guys mind leaving us, please?"

There's a shuffle of feet and a few calls of "Sure" and "Good night" until the room is quiet and they're alone.

"Do people always do what you tell them to do?" Kurt asks.

Blaine doesn't reply, simply cupping Kurt's waist and scooting him closer so that his ass hits the piano keys, plinking out discordant notes. Blaine just leans forward, pressing his forehead into Kurt's stomach and breathing. Hesitant, Kurt brings his hands up, carding them through Blaine's hair and scritching at his scalp with his nails. Something stirs within him - more than arousal, more than want or lust, but warm and happy - and it scares him. Blaine's head lifts and his eyes linger a second on Kurt's lips before he looks down, tugging at the tie of the robe. It falls open easily, Blaine pushing the sides open to reveal his almost-naked torso, clad only in a pair of boxer briefs, and placing a kiss right under Kurt's sternum.

He stands, his hands on Kurt's waist as he lifts him easily and sets him down on the piano top, feet and thighs hitting the keys and causing more notes to rise sharply in the air. Blaine runs his fingers through Kurt's hair and cups the back of his head. Kurt knows what Blaine's going to do before he can do it, can see the look in his eyes, the way they keep falling to his lips, but he can't, he won't do that. He has rules for a reason.

Blaine tries anyway, tugging his head forward, but Kurt resists. Resists the tug of Blaine's hand, the tug in his belly, the way his heart screams yes even as his head yells no. He leans to the side, pressing a kiss to the side of Blaine's neck, scratchy with stubble, and leans back, bracing his hands on the piano as Blaine spreads his legs, his feet once again hitting the keys as Blaine grabs his ass and pulls him to the edge of the piano, nestling between his thighs.

The aborted attempt at a kiss brings Blaine to trail his lips down Kurt's jaw and neck, something he willingly submits to, tipping his head back so that Blaine has more space. A gasp is pulled from him as Blaine latches onto that one spot on Kurt's neck that drives him wild. His hips thrust up involuntarily and he can feel Blaine smiling as he bites and sucks.

"Blaine." His voice catches as he grows harder in his shorts. He's finally released as Blaine continues to kiss down his chest, nipping here and there. With every inch, Kurt lays further and further back on the piano until he's flat on his back. He tries to breathe normally, but his body is screaming to kiss Blaine, right on the lips, to get closer until they are sweaty body against sweaty body, but he knows better and, right now, the best thing to do is resist. A few more days and then Blaine will be gone. Kurt knows better than to get attached.

His underwear is pulled down his long legs and then Blaine is burying his face in the thatch of pubic hair at the base of Kurt's cock, breathing in the scent as his fingers dig into Kurt's hips. He reaches into the pocket of his robe and pulls out a condom, trying to push it at Blaine, who ignores him.

"Please."

One word, partially pleading, and Blaine takes the condom. The little foil packet is ripped open and the condom rolled down Kurt's cock. It's barely on before Blaine is sinking his mouth down over him, causing Kurt to cry out and try to buck under Blaine's firm grip. It's been so long since someone did this to him that he had forgotten how good it felt, even with the condom on. Johns tend to want to be serviced, not to service other people.

One hand leaves his hips and Blaine's entire arm slides over to make up for it. A dry finger is pressed against his hole and, combined with the warm, sucking feeling on his cock, it drives Kurt to the point where he gasps, "Stop, stop, I'm going to come." He would feel embarrassed by how easily he got to that point, but he's honestly too turned on to care.

"Shit, I don't have any lube," Blaine groans. Kurt fumbles in the pocket again, his feet knocking on the piano keys again, and comes out with a lube packet, nearly poking Blaine in the eye in his haste to pass it off. "Always prepared, huh?" Blaine chuckles.

"Yup, I'm a regular boy scout. Please, Blaine." Kurt tries to arch his hips but Blaine's hold on him is unrelenting. He settles down, staring at the ceiling as he pants, his fingers twisting in his hair as Blaine slips one lubed finger inside him.

This is another thing he has been denied for so long. John's don't care about prep; they want a quick fuck without waiting for him to stretch himself. He has been doing it to himself for so long that he has forgotten what it is like for someone else to do it. It is… intimate. It feels so good, but he fights against the warmth still curling happily in his chest that makes him want to give in and press a kiss to those lips that look so soft and inviting.

A tear leaks out of one of his eyes as Blaine peppers kisses on his stomach and thighs while sliding in a second finger. It's overwhelming, but Kurt tells himself that he can have it, that one tear, and then he will become a robot again. It drips quickly down the side of his face and he leaves it, doesn't try to wipe away the evidence or hide it from anyone. He takes a deep breath and his body becomes lax.

Blaine adds another finger and murmurs, "You're so beautiful."

The bits of metal he puts up around his heart take a beating, but he fortifies it and lets out a half-faked moan when Blaine brushes against his prostate. "Fuck me." He digs out another condom, suddenly thankful he had slipped whatever handful he grabbed in passing into his pocket. Sitting up, he quickly undoes Blaine's pants and rips open the condom packet, rolling it down Blaine's cock, but the angle is too awkward with Blaine's shorter stature next to the piano and, to be honest, Kurt isn't sure he can handle face to face sex right now.

He slides off the piano, plunking the keys carelessly as he removes the robe, and turns, looking over his shoulder at Blaine. "How do you want me?"

Forever.

Blaine doesn't speak, just takes Kurt's hands and places them on the piano cover. The sound of the bench moving away echoes throughout the empty room. There's a shuffle of movement and the slick sound of Blaine lubing up his cock and then-

"Oh, god," Kurt groans, fingers gripping the piano tightly. Blaine is big and it feels amazing as he presses inside. Kurt relaxes his body and bears down, taking it all with one slick motion. Blaine doesn't give him time to adjust, just starts pounding roughly into him, his balls slapping against Kurt's ass and his fingers holding him with a punishing grip.

It's like Kurt needs, just a hard fuck, no kisses on his shoulders, no sweat-sticky skin pressed to his own. It's what he needs to keep his distance.

It's just not what he wants.

He comes with Blaine's cock buried deep inside him, his hips grinding against Kurt's ass, the zipper pressing roughly against the skin of his ass, and his hand firmly stroking him through the condom. Blaine doesn't stop, pounding into him harder than before, his hands on Kurt's shoulders, pushing him down onto Blaine's cock until he pulls out suddenly. There's the sound of a condom being rapidly removed and then warm splatters on his ass and lower back as Blaine comes on him. His arms give out and he falls forward, burying his face in them, feeling drained physically and emotionally.

A sweaty forehead is pressed against the back of his neck and soft hands stroke his sides. Kurt bites his lip and tries not to cry.

#pretty woman!Klaine #older!Blaine #prostitue!Kurt #klaine #az writes

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azraeldoesnotdispute · 10 years

Text

Make Believe (It's You) 1/6 + Epilogue

Rating: NC-17

Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, Eli C./Chandler

Warnings: Non-con in a later chapter (will be marked), prostitution, minor character death discussed, drug use talked about

Word Count: 5,066/41,989

Summary: Pretty Woman AU where Blaine is a wealthy business man who hires a prostitute named Kurt to stay with him for a week.

On LJ | On Ao3 | On ff.net | On S&C

Or read it here

Eli accepts hand shakes and schmoozes possible future business partners and jokes with the well-to-do people around him, all while searching the crowd.

“Where is the guest of honor?” Wes Montgomery, a very powerful judge, asks as he firmly shakes Eli’s hand.

Eli laughs as he replies, “If I know him, he’s off kissing babies and charming sweet old ladies.” He walks away after a brief conversation and growls under his breath, “Where is he?”

The man in question, Blaine Anderson, sighs into the phone. “Adam, I need you here. Didn’t my secretary call you?”

“Of course she did; I speak to her more than I speak to you,” Adam snaps, “but I’m not your beck and call girl-”

“You’re not a girl at all.”

“-and I’m tired of being treated as such.”

“Adam, this is very important to me.”

“I should be important to you! But no, it’s always about business with you. Maybe I should just move out.”

“If that’s what you want.”

Adam sighs heavily, his breath crackling over the speaker. “I really don’t want to do this right now; we’ll talk about it when you get back to New York.”

“I think now is a perfectly good time to talk about this.”

“Fine. Goodbye, Blaine.”

The phone goes silent in his ear and when he pulls it away from his face, he sees that the call has been disconnected. “Goodbye, Adam.”

He steps out of his office a few minutes later after checking that his hair is still perfect and his suit wrinkle free. An associate stops him to give him an update on the stocks of the company he’s currently looking to buy, but Blaine quickly brushes her off after giving explicit instructions on what to watch. He shakes the hands of each person that stops him, calling them by their names, talking business with those in power positions and charming their partners. It doesn’t take long before he finds himself face to face with-

“Trent! Well, this is a surprise,” Blaine says with a sincere smile and a brief embrace of his ex-boyfriend.

“Hello, Blaine,” Trent replies warmly. “How are you? I heard about James.”

“I’m good, I’m good. I heard you got married.”

Trent laughs, showing Blaine his ring. “Yeah, well, I couldn’t wait for you forever.” They both laugh at that and their failed attempt at a relationship.

“Yeah. Hey, listen, I have a quick question. When we were dating, did you talk to my secretary more than you talked to me?”

Trent rolls his eyes fondly. “Yeah, we still have lunch together weekly; she was one of the groomsmaids at my wedding.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Trent nudges him playfully.

“Well, it was great to see you. Your husband is a lucky man,” Blaine tells him, pulling him in for another hug and kissing his temple before they part. The rest of the evening is spent in much the same way, making small talk and accepting accolades and condolences.

It isn’t long before Blaine grows antsy, ready to leave the party and get to his hotel to prepare for the meeting the next day. He calls Finn to have his limo pulled around, but when he gets outside, he’s annoyed to find that it had been parked way in the back and is effectively blocked in.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Anderson, they said there’s nothing they can do,” Finn tells him, shrugging helplessly.

“It’s alright, Finn,” Blaine says, looking around briefly before spotting a familiar car, most definitely not blocked in. He motions to it and calls to the valets. “Is this Mr. Collins’ car?”

The men glance at each other before nodding.

“Excellent. Toss me his keys, would you?” With another unsure glance at each other, one of them grabs the appropriate set of keys and tosses it to Blaine, who unlocks the car and slides in.

Great, a stick shift.

He’s just got the car started when Eli skids to a stop next to the door. “Chandler said you left. Where are you going? Why are you in my car?”

“Because my limo is blocked in; Finn can’t get it out.”

Eli takes a quick look at the stuffed parking lot and turns to the waiting valets. “What is this mess, guys? Come on! Can you just-”

Blaine finally gets the car to jerk forward and Eli whirls around. “That’s a stick, Blaine. Can you even drive a stick?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he replies noncommittally as the gears grind.

“Why- why don’t you just wait a minute? They’ll get it cleared out. You don’t even know where you’re going! You’ll get lost in the dark,” he yells as Blaine moves further down the driveway, feeling a bit more confident despite the frequent grinding noises.

“See you at the office,” he yells back as he pulls away.

888

Kurt groans at his obnoxiously beeping alarm and stretches his body, feeling the delicious pull of his muscles as his hand slaps around until the beeping stops. He lets out a huge sigh, relaxing and wiggling deeper in his bed for a last few stolen seconds before he forces himself to get up.

He showers, washing his body thoroughly and ignoring his slight stubble in favor of sucking down a cup of coffee before brushing his teeth. He considers the tubes sitting around the sink before choosing a dark green and glopping some of the thick gel onto his fingers. It’s carefully applied until his hair is artistically streaked green for the night.

He picks up his favorite pair of leather pants and sets about the task of wiggling into them. Once the arduous task is complete, he buttons them up and slips on his tightest shirt, fashionably ripped and clinging deliciously to his biceps. Grabbing a permanent marker, Kurt quickly colors in the back of one of his boots, too old and falling apart, with a safety pin to pull the zipper up. Outfit complete save for the thin jacket he’ll grab before he leaves, he adds just the smallest touch of eyeliner under his eyes, making the blue pop.

As he heads downstairs, Kurt hears the building manager demanding rent from someone and freezes. He knows that he and Tina don’t have the money right now and if the manager sees him, he’ll want Kurt to pay up. Turning around, he quietly locks himself back into their apartment and sneaks out through the fire escape, dropping to the ground with relative ease before searching for his roommate.

"Hey, Schue, is Tina here?" Kurt calls over the loud music at the Blue Banana, a club they frequent on rainy nights when they’re looking for Johns.

"She’s upstairs," the older man calls back, shaking a questioning glass at him. Kurt shakes his head and walks past the couples making out on the stairs to the top, where Tina is sitting in Dustin Goolsby’s lap, looking a little dazed.

"Tina."

She blinks at him slowly before a grin cracks her face. “Heeeeey, Kurt! You remember-“

"Yeah, I know everyone here." Kurt shoots a disgusted look at Dustin, who just smirks and rakes his eyes up and down Kurt’s body. "Come on, we need to go."

"Hey, hold on, I’m not done with her; she still owes me twenty more minutes," Dustin informs him. "Of course, if you want to work off her debt instead…"

"Not on your life," Kurt sneers, storming over and pulling Tina to her feet. "You’ve had your fun."

Dustin stands, grabbing Kurt’s arm. “Be more fun with a pretty little thing like you.”

Kurt rips his arm away. “Not a chance.” Without waiting for a reply, his heart pounding in fear at provoking such a powerful man, Kurt leads Tina down and plants her at the end of the bar.

"I thought we were leaving?" Tina asks, eyes a little clearer and voice barely slurring.

"Snacks. You need to sober up," Kurt replies, piling a few orange slices and cherries on a napkin and wrapping it up. "Come on."

It’s not until they’re on the street and heading to their corner that he starts in on her. “What the hell, Tina? What were you thinking?”

She just shrugs, slowly working her way through the fruit. “He pays extra when he drugs me and we really need that money, K.”

"Not at the cost of your health!"

"Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do, Kurt," Tina finally snaps, tossing her napkin in a nearby trash can before they turn the corner to the strip they usually work. "We need rent money and Dustin is always willing to pay out the ass. I don’t use outside of that and you know it, so get off my back."

Kurt blinks at her in surprise. “I’m sorry, Tay. I just… I worry about you.” He reaches out and pulls her to his side, kissing the top of her head.

She sighs, burrowing closer to him. “I know, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m just so hungry.”

She straightens up, her eyes narrowing as she spots a woman leaning faux casually against a tree. “Uh, Marley.”

The girl looks up, flicking the end of her cigarette. “What?”

"What are you doing here? You know this is our turf. Me and Kurt, we work all the way down to Fred Astaire, so why don’t you scamper off to some second rate nobody where you belong?"

Marley rolls her eyes, tossing her butt away carelessly. “Forgive me, I was just taking a break. Besides, he’s new here; he doesn’t even count.”

She’s gone before either of them can retort, her heels clicking as she walks away.

"Bitch," Tina sneers before turning back to Kurt. "You count so much more than her."

"I know." He doesn’t show her any more affection, since it has the potential to run off Johns, but he still gives her a sweet, sincere smile before focusing on the sweet ass ride that’s just jerked to a stop a few yards in front of them, all shiny and candy apple red.

"Helloooo," he whistles, staring longingly at it.

"Go for it; that’s this month’s groceries," Tina hisses, pushing him slightly.

"How do you even know he’s gay?"

"With that car? Please."

Kurt rolls his eyes at the stupid notion, like a car can determine sexual orientation, but peels his long overcoat off, strutting towards the parked car.

888

Eli was right. He got lost, he’s all turned around, and now he’s stuck with this stupid car and he doesn’t know where the hell he is-

Tap tap

There’s a face in the window, very handsome and elvish, too thin, his muscles bulging when he leans forward after Blaine rolls down the window.

"Hey, sugar, looking for a good time?" His voice is high and a little breathy, his eyelashes fluttering prettily.

"Actually, I’m looking for my hotel," Blaine replies. He’s never been propositioned by a hooker before and he’s finding it’s actually quite cheesy. "Could you give me directions?"

"Sure. For five bucks."

"Are you serious?"

"Price just went up to ten." The man (boy? He looks so young) smirks at him.

"Unbelievable."

The boy shrugs, straightening up and leaning his (very nice, firm looking) ass against the door. Blaine sighs, because now he’s tired and frustrated. He digs in his pocket and comes up with the smallest bill he has. “Do you have change for a twenty?” he calls.

Before he can blink, the boy is in the car with him, taking the twenty and stuffing it in his pocket. “For twenty, I’ll take you myself.” He motions for Blaine to go, which he does after carefully checking for oncoming traffic.

“Turn on your lights!”

Blaine flicks on the lights after checking the dash, then goes back to fiddling with the gears.

“Seems like it’s not that good of a time to be a hooker,” Blaine remarks.

He glares at Blaine. “I always use condoms and I get checked out once a month at the free clinic. I can do things to you that would blow your mind that an amateur wouldn’t even begin to know how to do.” They ride in silence for a moment before the boy asks, “So where are we going?”

“Uh, the Regent Beverly Wilshire.”

“Cool, turn right at the corner.”

He sees the boy wince with each grind of the gears. “So what’s your name?”

"What do you want it to be?" the boy asks as they jerk to a stop at a red light. Blaine just gives him a look and the boy rolls his eyes. "It’s Kurt."

"Kurt." He rolls the name around on his tongue. "That’s a good name."

He stares at Blaine as he tries to shift gears again, grinding them roughly. “You know, I think you left your transmission back on the corner of What The Fuck Are You Doing Lane and Have You Ever Driven A Day In Your Life Blvd.”

"My first car was a limo, so no, I haven’t ever driven a day in my life,” Blaine quips.

Kurt launches into an explanation of how to properly drive the car, until Blaine rolls his eyes. “Have you ever driven a car like this before?”

“Um, no, this car costs more than I’ll make in my entire life.”

The car jerks to a halt on the shoulder and Blaine turns to him. “Well, tonight is your lucky night, because you can take us the rest of the way.” He gets out and Kurt follows suit, looking excited.

“Buckle up, baby, I’m about to take you on the ride of your life,” Kurt says once they’ve switched sides.

“I’m ecstatic,” Blaine replies dryly, though he does as Kurt says, just before he throws the car in gear and takes off. “So where did you learn about cars?

“My dad. He was a mechanic and he taught me everything he knew when I was growing up. I used to follow him around his car shop. The guys thought I was the funniest little thing.” Kurt chuckles, but Blaine still detects a note of sadness and since he didn’t miss Kurt’s use of past tense; he could guess why. They sit in silence for only a few seconds before Blaine shifts awkwardly.

“So what’s the going rate these days?”

“I don’t take less than a hundred.”

“A hundred bucks for a night?” Blaine asks incredulously.

“For an hour.”

Now it’s his turn to stare. “A hundred bucks an hour and you have a safety pin holding your boot up. You’ve got to be joking.”

Kurt takes his eyes off of the road for a brief moment to look him in the face. “I never joke about money.”

“Neither do I.” They turn another corner and Blaine shakes his head. “A hundred bucks. Pretty stiff.”

He’s shocked when Kurt reaches over and palms his mostly limp cock. (It was a really nice ass.) “Not really, but it’s got potential.” His hand moves away when Blaine gives him a bitchface, but otherwise he’s unapologetic.

It doesn’t take long before Kurt’s pulling up in front of the hotel and Blaine breathes out a sigh of relief because it really was “the ride of his life,” one he would be okay never repeating. Maybe.

"Will you be needing the car again tonight, sir?” the doorman asks when they get out.

“God, I hope not,” Blaine chuckles as he tosses him the keys. He turns to Kurt, standing beside him on the curb. “Well, thank you for that.”

"Any time," Kurt replies, grinning. "It’s been a real slice, but I’m gonna catch a cab with my twenty bucks." He gives Blaine a little wave as he backs away.

Blaine’s lips quirk up and he waves back. He starts walking toward the hotel, but loneliness tugs at his gut. For some reason, he feels a powerful urge just not to be alone tonight. His eyes flick to Kurt, perched on the back of a bus bench as he stares down the street. Before he’s even conscious of what he’s doing, Blaine’s standing next to the boy.

"No cabs tonight?"

Kurt looks at him. “I prefer the bus.”

"Ah." They stand there in silence for a second before, "A hundred bucks for an hour, huh?"

Kurt smiles and it’s so sweet, so innocent for someone in his line of work. “Yup.”

"Well, if you don’t have any prior engagements, I would like it if you would accompany me to my room."

Kurt smiles so wide, his eyes crinkle and his adorable little teeth show. “You got it.”

Blaine offers his hand to help Kurt hop down, and then leads the way to the hotel.

“What’s your name?” Kurt asks.

“Blaine.”

“Oh, like from Pretty in Pink?”

Blaine laughs. “If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that. No, it’s just a name.” He stops just before they get to the door, straightening out his jacket. “Here, put this on,” he requests, draping it over Kurt’s broad shoulders.

"Wha- Why?" Kurt does as he asks, following when Blaine starts walking again.

"Because this establishment isn’t the type to rent by the hour."

Kurt shrugs as Blaine nods his thanks to the doorman as they walk in. They’re only a few steps in before Kurt jerks to a stop. “Whoa. This place is huge.”

"It is," Blaine confirms, placing a hand on Kurt’s back and gently urging him forward to the front desk. Kurt’s still looking all around as Blaine greets the young lady at the front desk. "Hello, any messages for me?"

"Yes, sir." She’s obviously trying not to stare at Kurt as she pulls a small stack of papers out and hands it to Blaine, who flips through it quickly.

There’s nothing urgent in there, so he gives the girl a smile. “Thank you. Will you have champagne and strawberries sent up to my room, please? Thanks.” He leads Kurt away towards the elevators, where an older couple is already waiting. Blaine smiles politely at them as he presses the up button, but he can feel Kurt tensing at the sidelong looks they’re giving him.

"Aw, honey," he says, cloyingly sweet and Blaine braces himself, "I think I forgot to wear underwear. These leather pants-"

Blaine thanks whatever is out there that the elevator doors open then, cutting off whatever Kurt was about to say. Kurt struts inside but Blaine gestures for the couple to go first.

"Oh, look, there’s a sofa for two in here," Kurt coos, plopping down and angling one of his impossibly long legs up, taking up most of the space. The couple stops, the woman looking a bit scandalized.

"First time in an elevator," he offers as a pathetic excuse. He hears a soft, "Oh," from the woman as Blaine steps inside, a little irritated.

"Sorry, I couldn’t help it," Kurt mumbles, standing up. The elevator operator snickers.

"Try," Blaine says, doing his best not to snap.

The rest of the short trip is spent in silence, though Blaine can see the operator looking at them in the reflective doors of the elevators.

"Penthouse," the operator says as the doors slide open. His head follows Kurt as he walks out and Blaine clears his throat pointedly when he goes so far as to poke around the corner to keep watching him. The man hurries to straighten up, grinning smugly and winking as Blaine steps out. He rolls his eyes and makes his way down the short hallway to the doors, digging his keycard out and slipping it into the lock. The light beeps green and they step inside.

"This place is nice," Kurt breathes, taking the room in with just as much reverence as he had the lobby downstairs. "Oh, cool, a balcony!" He winds his way through the furniture and steps outside. "The view is amazing!"

“I’ll take your word for it; I haven’t been out there.” Blaine settles down at the desk, flipping open his laptop.

Kurt comes back in, roaming around. Blaine sees him drape his overcoat on one of the sofas from the corner of his eyes as his laptop boots up and he drags his finger over the fingerprint identification pad, signing him in.

“Soooo, now that you have me here, what are you going to do with me?” Kurt asks, finally having made his way back to Blaine’s desk. He props himself up against it, staring coyly at Blaine from under his eyelashes.

“You know what? I honestly don’t know.” Blaine leans back with a self deprecating chuckle, watching every shift of Kurt’s body as he reaches in his back pocket.

“Pick a color,” he says, holding up several condom packets. “I’ve got red, I’ve got green, I’ve got purple, and I’ve even got a flavored one in here. Cherry, I think.”

Blaine just shakes his head, still laughing softly to himself. He doesn’t want sex right now, not really, despite the absolute hotness that is his ‘date’ for the night. He stands, needing to shed some of his layers, but Kurt grabs the buckle of his belt as soon as he can.

“Alright, let’s suit you up.”

He stills Kurt’s hands with his own, sighing wearily and shaking his head firmly. “No- Just-“ He removes his jacket, carefully hanging it on the back of his chair. “How about we talk instead?”

“Talk? Um, okay.” Kurt look hesitant for the first time. “Okay, so why haven’t you gone outside yet?”

“I’ve been busy since I landed; I haven’t really had the time.”

“So I’m guessing that you’re here on business, then.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“You suppose, huh?”

Kurt follows Blaine as he goes to a chair, unbuttoning his vest and settling down with his feet propped up, at least until Kurt straddles the ottoman. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say… Lawyer.”

“Do I look like a lawyer?”

“A bit, yeah. Not quite as skeezy as most I’ve met, though.”

“What about you? Why did you come here?”

“Why does anyone come here? I had big dreams, but they fell through, which is insane because I used to be a crazy planner. I had every minute of my life planned, but sometimes things, life, throws something at you and it all kind of… Blows up in your face. Now, I just try to live minute to minute. No sense in making plans if they’re just going to blow up in your face.”

A musical tone dings throughout the room and they both stand quickly, their bodies pressed together in the small space between the chair and ottoman.

“What’s that?” Kurt asks.

“Room service.”

“Oh! I’ll get it!” He giddily opens the door, holding it so that the man carrying a tray can walk in. Blaine points to the bar and the man scuttles over and deposits his burden.

“It will be on your bill, Mr. Anderson.”

“Yes, thank you.”

The man then turns to Kurt, looking at him expectantly, and Kurt looks right back at him for a long moment. “What,” he finally snaps.

Blaine jumps out of his stupor and pulls a twenty out while walking over to press it into the man’s hand. “There you go, sorry.”

“Thank you, sir. Have a good night.”

“You, too.”

“Shit, I forgot,” Kurt groans. “Sorry, I-“

“Don’t worry about it; it’s okay,” Blaine soothes, pouring a glass of champagne and handing it to Kurt, who sucks it down eagerly. Blaine is torn between smiling and shaking his head, so he does both as he uncovers the bowl of strawberries. “Here, try one of these.”

“Oh, thank you.” Kurt takes one and bites into it, his eyes closing and a moan tearing from his throat as he chews. “That’s really good.”

Blaine’s too busy watching his throat work to reply, but suddenly there are two bright blue eyes staring right at him.

“Just so you know, as much as I like this whole thing you’ve got going on here, I’m a sure thing; you don’t have to, like, seduce me or anything,” Kurt says, tossing the little green bit of the strawberry in a small empty bowl that Blaine had placed beside him and grabbing another plump red fruit. “You can do anything you want with me, so what do you want?”

Blaine actually takes a moment to stop and think about that question for the first time that night. What did he want?

“Do you have somewhere you have to be?”

Kurt looks a little incredulous at the question. “Um, not really, why?”

“You just seem in a bit of a rush.” Blaine regards him for a second before asking, “How much for a night?”

“What?”

“How much for you to spend the entire night with me?”

Kurt thinks about it for a moment before seeming to settle on something. “Five hundred.”

“Five hundred.”

“Up front.”

“Deal.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to be alone tonight. Make yourself comfortable.”

Twenty minutes later, Kurt is sitting on the floor of the hotel room, his bare feet wiggling in the lush carpet, snacking on various things from the mini bar and giggling as he watches an old episode of I Dream of Jeannie. Blaine is too busy talking to one of his assistants on Skype to really pay attention, but Kurt’s laughter makes something coil happily in his stomach.

He signs off finally, closing his laptop and finally looking at Kurt, who shifts so that he’s lying on his stomach, his eyes glued to the television. It’s adorable, quite frankly, but Blaine, for whatever reason, wants to watch Kurt, to see his face and watch his different reactions. He changes chairs, moving so that he can do as he wants. Kurt is beautiful, even bathed in black and white. His body is long and lean, but too thin, making Blaine wonder when his last real meal had even been.

Kurt’s attention finally shifts, focusing on Blaine watching him. He puts down the juice he was sipping from and carefully maneuvers around all the junk he has on the floor, pausing only to mute the tv. His shirt is pulled off and tossed onto a nearby chair and then his bare torso is pressing against Blaine’s knees. Long, deft fingers loosen the knot of his tie until the ends hang open and then the buttons are popped open, one by one, until his torso is fully revealed. Kurt grabs his knees and pulls him forward firmly until his ass is half hanging off of the chair. He leans down, pressing a kiss to Blaine’s collarbone.

“What do you want?”

“What do you do?”

“Anything you want. But no kissing on the mouth.”

Blaine hums, still not sure what he wants, but Kurt’s rubbing his dick through the thick material of his trousers and looking up at him all seductive innocence and he decides to just go with it. He arches up a bit, his eyes flicking to Kurt’s lips, imagining them wrapped around his cock. Kurt takes that as a hint, kissing his way down Blaine’s chest as his fingers quickly undo his belt and pants. Blaine’s head falls back as his cock is pulled out and a condom is rolled on it.

(He’s actually impressed; he never even heard Kurt open the package.)

Sex of any sort kind of sucks with a condom, but Blaine prefers to be safe and one can never be too safe when they’re having sex with a prostitute. Kurt is good, though, his tongue tracing along the vein on the underside of his shaft, his cheeks hollowing with each bob of his head until Blaine starts getting close. He taps the back of Kurt’s head. “Hey, wait-“

Kurt pulls off, his lips looking swollen in the flashing lights of the television. “Yeah?”

“I want to fuck you.”

Kurt just smirks, standing and discarding his pants as quickly as he can, his dick hard and jutting proudly from his toned body. “I’m already stretched, so how do you want me?”

“Just like-“ Blaine sits up, turning Kurt and helping him back up. His legs are spread on either side of Blaine’s and he braces himself on the arms of the chair. Blaine holds his cock with one hand and uses the other to guide Kurt down until he’s sinking over him, tight and wet; he feels so good. He holds Kurt steady as Kurt bounces on him, the muscles in his back flexing deliciously and his ass clenching tightly.

He goes until he’s too tired to go any more and then Blaine pulls him flush against him, keeping their bodies connected as he stands. He bends Kurt over the arm of the sofa and grabs his hips. All he wants is release and he takes it, fucking Kurt hard, his hips pounding against Kurt’s tight ass (seriously, that fucking ass is so amazing), leaving red marks on the pale skin. His fingers dig into the flesh and Blaine just hopes he doesn’t leave any bruises that might cost Kurt customers.

He comes finally, shoving his hips forward one last time and filling the condom with a groan, his sweaty forehead pressed against Kurt’s shoulder blade. “Fuck, Blaine, please?” Kurt whines, clenching around him and trying to press back. “I need to come, fuck-“

Blaine reaches around and grasps Kurt’s dick, stroking it firmly several times and grinding his hips forward until Kurt cries out, coming on the side of the sofa.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he pants.

“Don’t worry about it,” Blaine replies, “I’ll just have them put it on my bill.”

Kurt chuckles until he winces when Blaine pulls out, holding the end of the condom. He ties it off easily and tosses it in a nearby trashcan. Kurt looks like he’s dead on his feet (which makes sense when Blaine looks at the time; it was almost an hour and a half later), so Blaine picks him up, despite the awkwardness that their height differences present. The bedroom isn’t far away and it’s not too difficult to navigate his way there. He deposits Kurt onto the bed and watches as his eyes flutter shut.

With one last look, he steps into the bathroom and turns on the water to hot. After all that, he really needs a shower before he goes back to working.

#pretty woman!Klaine #prostitue!Kurt #older!Blaine #klaine #az writes

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