“So, Blaine,” Kurt said offhandedly as they walked down the hall and back into the now-quiet theatre.

“Yeah?” Blaine asked as he raised an eyebrow.

“Would you like to, by any chance, come to an after party with me?”

“Uh…”

“I mean, I get it if parties aren’t really your thing,” Kurt rambled, “I mean, they aren’t my thing either. I hate them, actually. But, I promised Johnathan that I’d go to this one. I totally get it if you don’t want to come so, yeah I’ll just—“

“Kurt?” Blaine finally intercepted, “I’d love to come along.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

When Kurt walked into the dark club he instantly felt uncomfortable. Ever since the Bambi incident, and Rachel’s party, alcohol was a turn-off for Kurt. When he felt the warmth of Blaine’s hand on the small of his back, he felt a bit more sure of himself and walked forward, into the crowd of dancing people and the blaring music.

As soon as Kurt was spotted, he was pulled into the crowd, and people swarmed him like bees to honey. Blaine instantly lost sight of him as he was pushed backwards. With a huff he pushed his way back through the crowd. When he started to approach the middle he noticed that there were little to no girls, and instead many taller males. Kurt stood in the very center with… Blaine gasped audibly. A tall man stood behind Kurt, his arms wrapped tightly around the short boys’ waist. He was bent over and he was whispering in Kurt’s ear. Blaine had no idea what was being said, but judging from how badly Kurt was blushing… it had to be something inappropriate. Blaine couldn’t help but feel angry. He hadn’t seen Kurt blush that much since Burt had walked in on them during a particularly steamy make out session on Kurt’s bed.
Blaine shook his head angrily as he turned and made his way back through the crowd and towards the door. He was not about to think about that. No way in hell. He had been trying too hard for too long to put Kurt behind him, trying to forget the way Kurt had made him feel since that first day on the grand staircase of Dalton… Blaine burst through the door of the club and ran down the street. The cold air felt so great on his face, and running helped him clear his head so Blaine kept running. It was dark and he had no idea where he was going. All he knew was that he needed to get far away from Kurt.

When Blaine reached an empty park he sat down heavily on the grass, letting his head fall into his hands. What the hell did Blaine think he was doing? It took him a year to get over the heart-wrenching pain Kurt had caused when they lost contact, and he promised himself then that he would forget about Kurt completely. What the hell was he doing here? He was just setting himself up for the same pain, the same rejection he only just got over. Who the hell was he kidding? Blaine knew he couldn’t just be friends with Kurt, and it was time he admitted to himself that yes, he was still horribly and painfully in love with the taller boy. Well, Blaine thought, I guess it’s time to get the hell out before something bad happens.

*~*~*~*~*

“Hey, baby,” Kurt felt arms curl around his waist as he was pulled closer to the taller man behind him. Kurt could feel his hot breath on his neck. He could barely hear the deep voice over the pounding music of the club, “You looked really hot today on stage. Took all my strength not to hop up and—”

“Okay,” Kurt squeaked as he felt his cheeks get hot, and he knew a deep blush was now painting his face. He could feel the vibrations of laughter through his back as they stood pressed tightly together.

“Let’s get out of here, baby,” His voice was husky and lust filled in Kurt’s ear, and Kurt could feel his knees go weak, glad that he had the support of the man’s arms around his waist.

Kurt turned around so he was pressed chest-to-chest with him, looking up into the beautiful brown eyes of his lover. “Just give me an hour to make sure that my guest is aware that you’ll be coming over, okay?”

Kurt was pulled even closer to the man as he snuggled his face into Kurt’s neck, “I suppose that’s okay, as long as you’ll let me take you wherever I want afterwards.”

Kurt blushed even more, which he didn’t think was possible, but nodded. The arms around his waist disappeared and his hand was grabbed instead as he was led out of the club. When he was safely at his limo the man gave him a slow, sloppy kiss on the lips. Kurt told the limo driver to take him back to the flat as quickly as possible. When he arrived he walked to the elevator, not bothering to say hello to the front-desk worker.

When he opened the door to his flat he called Blaine’s name loudly. When he got no response, Kurt walked towards Blaine’s room. Maybe he’d fallen asleep or something. With a knock, Kurt opened the door a crack and slipped his head in. The bed was unmade, but empty. Kurt pushed the door open all the way and looked around. Wow Blaine was a slob. But what caught Kurt’s eye was the painting sitting on an easel near the window. Kurt was drawn towards it, and as he got closer he saw all the tiny details, and that it was unfinished. No one had ever painted a more beautiful picture of the New York Skyline. Not that Kurt had seen. Out of the corner of his eye Kurt saw a sketchbook open on the bed.

He bit his lip, knowing that this was snooping and that was kind of, er, creepy of him, but he couldn’t help but move towards it. Kurt gasped when he saw… himself. He squinted at the picture and picked it up gently, afraid to touch it but yet so drawn in. Sure enough it was like looking in a mirror… except for the eyes. The eyes of the sketch were unfilled, but it was obvious that he had tried more than once, eraser marks and dents were the pencil had been pressed too hard. Kurt bit his lip, curiosity tugging at him. He gave in and flipped through the rest of the sketchbook. Each page had the same thing: him. There were various different poses and emotions and each and every one was missing the eyes, the same eraser marks evident.

Kurt jumped when he heard the doorbell ring and glanced at the digital clock that sat on Blaine’s bedside table. How did an hour pass? With a shake of his head, he placed Blaine’s sketchbook back on his bed and walked out the door, taking care to close it. When he opened the door to his apartment he looked up and into the beautiful brown eyes that never failed to leave him breathless. He reached up and threaded his hands into the taller boys short and curly dirty brown locks, pulling him inside as their lips crashed together. Kurt dragged him backwards, in the direction of the couch, feeling as he smiled. They landed on the couch heavily with their lips still pressed tightly together, neither taking a care to the fact that the door was still unlocked. Kurt couldn’t help but moan as felt a tongue slide across his bottom lip. He gladly opened his mouth as their kiss deepened. Hands were roaming Kurt’s body, touching him in all the right places. He whimpered when the lips pulled away.

“Enjoying yourself?” He asked as he liked at Kurt’s earlobe.

“Mm, Blaine,” Kurt sighed. The man stopped instantly and Kurt gave a whine of displeasure, “Why’d you stop?”

“You said his name again, Kurt,” He spat at the smaller boy beneath him, “it’s kind of a boner-killer.”

Kurt reached up to touch his cheek, a perfectly practiced sad smile in place, “I’m sorry, can we try again?”

With a sigh he brought his lips back down to grant the boy his wish, both of them quickly forgetting the incident when the touching started again.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Blaine walked the short distance from the elevator to Kurt’s flat as slowly as he could. He felt horrible, and he just wanted to sleep. He reached for the doorknob and tried to open it; it was unlocked. Strange. Blaine quietly pushed the door open and stepped into the living area. He heard the moans a second too late, and was forced to look to the couch.

“Oh,” Kurt moaned as the dirty-blonde boy above him kissed his neck, “No, no you can’t give me a hickey. I have to perform.”

Blaine wanted to look away from the scene in front of him. He wanted to close his eyes and run as far away as he could, or he wanted to run to the nearest bathroom and be sick. Blaine chose the latter.

As he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet he tried to erase the image of his innocent Kurt sprawled on the couch like a… well, like a slut!

He’s not yours anymore, Blaine. And apparently he’s not as innocent as you thought.

“Who the fuck are you?” Came an angry voice from the doorway of the bathroom. Blaine tried to suppress a groan. The blonde. Great. He stood on shaking legs and flushed the toilet, rinsing his mouth out in the sink quickly before standing up and looking up, Wow, way up, to look the taller man in the eye.

“I’m a friend of Kurt’s,” Blaine said as calmly as he could manage.

“Is that so?” The man asked with a raise of his eyebrow. He grabbed Blaine’s shirt roughly and dragged him into the living room. When he laid his eyes on Kurt, Blaine wanted to run right back into the bathroom. He could tell that Kurt was doing a lot more than he had originally thought. His shirt was haphazardly done up, buttons in the wrong holes, and his hair a complete mess. He was still red and his breathing was uneven. What really got Blaine, though, was the fact that his pants were fully undone.

“Blaine?” Kurt squeaked.

“Uh, hey. Sorry about, er, intruding. I didn’t know you were going to have… company over.”

The hold on Blaine’s shirt tightened, “What was your name?” The man asked through clenched teeth as he turned to fully look at Blaine.

“B-Blaine…” He winced as he was pushed roughly into the nearest wall, the man’s arm pressing tightly against his throat as he held him elevated above the floor.

“You’re Blaine?” He demanded, and Blaine merely nodded, his eyes wide with fear.

Suddenly Kurt was beside them, his delicate hands trying to pry the arm from Blaine’s neck.

“Stop!” He shouted, “Let him go or I will call the god damn police.”