He huffed out an irritated breath, turning to his right-hand man.

“Nick, see if you can’t motivate the boys to work a little faster, huh? I don’t wanna be out here all night; I’ll catch my freakin’ death of cold,” he groused.

Nick seemed unfazed by Sebastian’s tone and shrugged as he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. “Relax, boss; they’re working as fast as they can. Those crates are pretty heavy. Besides, nobody’s gonna bother us tonight. Every copper in town’s staking out ol’ St. James’ joint – we’re free and clear.”

Had Nick been anyone else challenging him, he would’ve ended the night by swimming with the fishes, but Nick had been Sebastian’s underboss since Sebastian’s rise in power eleven years ago. He was the closest thing Sebastian had to a true friend, and he was the only man Sebastian trusted not to kill him in his sleep. That earned him a fair amount of leniency when it came to Sebastian’s temper.

Sebastian grumbled and then took one last drag before flicking the cigarette off the platform’s edge, watching it get swallowed up by the shadows. “Fine. What about Blaine?”

Silence lingered between them just a moment too long, and Sebastian glanced at his underboss, eyebrow arched. “Well?”

Nick dragged his tongue over his lips and then heaved a sigh, shrugging his shoulders. “There’s been no sign of ‘im. Hummel’s got him stashed somewhere, and it doesn’t look like he’s too keen on letting him go. Setting fire to the gambling hall just got a lot of people killed.”

Sebastian’s face darkened with anger. “Hummel’s got him, though – I know it. St. James isn’t stupid enough to trifle with me and Fat Sal... though, really, he’s too old and too fat to do much more than suck down oysters at the Blue Shanty.” He dragged his hand down his face, turning stormy eyes toward where his men were still unloading crates from the train. “I better get him back, Nick. I didn’t spend all this time and energy grooming him into the perfect moll just to have him vanish without a trace.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nick nod. “You will, boss. We’re keeping an eye out on all of Hummel’s haunts. Blaine’s bound to turn up.”

“It better not be in the Hudson or there’ll be hell to pay,” Sebastian growled. Then his eyes narrowed as he heard a faint clink. “What was that?”

The next thing he knew, Nick was shouting, “Boss! Get down!” as he launched himself through the air, crashing into Sebastian and taking them both to the ground as a hail of bullets sliced through the space where they’d just been standing.

Dazed, all his breath knocked out of him, Sebastian could do little more than stare up at his underboss, who had already drawn his gun from his holster and was firing into the darkness.

“Get to the car, Sebastian!” Nick roared over the ratta-tat-tat of machine gun fire as he rolled into a crouch and ducked behind a stack of crates for cover.

“Hummel,” Sebastian hissed as he rolled onto his stomach and started crawling toward the car, pulling himself forward by his elbows.

Around him, he could see his men — the ones who hadn’t already been gunned down, at least — diving for cover and returning fire to the group of men lined up at the opposite end of the station, each equipped with a Tommy gun.

He managed to reach the protection of the car and yanked open the door to the back seat. He didn’t crawl into the car but instead rose up to his knees, peeking over the edge of the window. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a rough hand grabbed his shoulder and jerked him down just as the window shattered, raining glass down on them.

Throwing a glance over his shoulder, Sebastian relaxed as he recognized Nick. Then he frowned, focusing on the way Nick cradled his right arm against his chest. “Dammit, Nick.”

“We gotta get out of here, boss.” Nick spat out the words between ragged breaths, his eyes darting around them. “The men are dead, the liquor shot all to hell. They’re gunning for you now, so we gotta scram. Get in the car and keep your head low.”

Sebastian had seconds to register the instructions before Nick was opening the front passenger door and crawling into the car. Sebastian cast a glance over his shoulder and took in the ruined crates riddled with bullet holes, the precious liquid inside drained out in puddles that were spreading across the platform. He growled and scrambled into the car, slamming the door behind him.

He gritted his teeth. “This ain’t over, Hummel.”

Kurt crept into Blaine’s room, silently, tiptoeing across the wood floor to the bed. He’d been holed up all night in his study, waiting for the call from his men to let him know the plan had been a success, and at three o’clock in the morning, he’d gotten his wish. All of Sebastian’s cargo had been destroyed and they’d very nearly gotten the bastard himself. Shame they’d missed him, but Kurt didn’t want a murder of that size on his hands – not yet, anyway.

So he’d hurried upstairs to inform Blaine of the good news.

He took a moment to stare down at the sleeping man, his face softening to one of faint amusement upon seeing Blaine lying on his stomach, dead to the world and lightly snoring. He hated to wake him up, but he wanted to share in this small victory. After all, if it hadn’t been for Blaine, none of it would’ve happened.

Crawling onto the bed as slowly as he could, he did his best not to jostle Blaine from dreamland. When he finally settled onto his side next to him, he curled in closely and swept his hand down Blaine’s back, kissing his shoulder. “Blaine,” he whispered, trying to get his attention. “Blaine, wake up.”

It took a few moments and a couple more kisses to rouse Blaine, and he made a soft noise as he stretched. “Mm, not time, Coop. Leave me alone.” He yawned and pulled his pillow over his head, snuggling back down into the sheets.

“Hey, no, come on, wake up. I have something important to tell you.” Kurt nudged at Blaine that time, hoping his insistence would be enough to make him pay attention. “It’s about Sebastian.”

Blaine frowned at the mention of Sebastian, and he peeked out from under the pillow. He rolled onto his side so he could face Kurt, trying to stifle a yawn. “What about him? What time is it?” He managed to clear a little of the fuzziness from his head by scrubbing his hand over his face, and then it hit him — the raid on Sebastian’s alcohol shipment.

Maybe it was because he was still half-asleep, but he barely felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach.

“It’s late, but that’s not important. We got him good, Blaine.” Kurt’s face barely contained the excitement he felt. “The raid went off without a hitch; everything was just as you said it would be. I’m told there was even a special bonus. Smythe was there, in the flesh. Guess he doesn’t trust his guys to handle shipments without him, because he was apparently watching them like a hawk.”

Blaine snorted and sat up a little, propping himself up on his elbow. “That’s not really a surprise; Sebastian hires guys for their muscles, not their brains.” He frowned and licked his lips. “What happened? Did your guys get the alcohol? Is Sebastian okay?” He hated the concern that crept into his voice, and he shook himself in irritation.

A scoff escaped Kurt’s lips before he could tamp it down. “Smythe got away scot-free, or so my sources say. The liquor was destroyed, though.” He shrugged a shoulder, then rolled onto his back, staring blankly at the shadowed ceiling. “Not exactly a win-win situation, but at least we got him where it hurts and adequately returned the favor he so kindly bestowed on me and my business.” His words were laced with venom.

Glancing over at Blaine, he studied him a moment before sitting up again. “Anyway, I thought you’d want to hear the news first thing. Sorry I woke you up; I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

Blaine let Kurt’s words sink in for a moment or two, testing his own reaction. He felt relief that Sebastian was all right, but what surprised him was the lack of remorse he felt at knowing the liquor had been destroyed. Kurt had gotten vengeance on Sebastian — an eye for an eye, as it were. He doubted Sebastian would see it that way, of course, but at least Kurt’s people were avenged.

Why that gave Blaine such a sense of satisfaction, he didn’t want to examine too closely at the moment, and he frowned as Kurt sat up. His hand snaked out to latch onto Kurt’s bicep.

“Wait, you don’t—” He licked his lips and smiled softly. “You don’t have to go. It’s— Thank you for telling me how things went. I’m glad I could help you.”

Kurt’s gaze flickered from the hand that grasped him to the dark eyes that focused on him so sweetly. His heartbeat quickened, and he weighed his options, debating whether he should go to his own room and sleep or spend the night with Blaine and potentially have a repeat of the bath incident. It didn’t take a genius to figure out which one was more appealing, and Kurt freely admitted that, while the moment in the bathroom probably shouldn’t have happened, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he’d wanted it as much as the Blaine had, and that it had benefited his business, as witnessed by the evening’s events.

So, lying back down beside Blaine, he propped himself up on his elbow and smiled in return. “I’m glad you could, too. Honestly, I was surprised – I know how difficult it had to have been for you to betray your boss like that, but you did the right thing. And with some luck and more of your help, maybe we can take him down once and for all.”

Blaine felt his face growing warm at Kurt’s words, and he settled back down on his side, propping his head up on his hand. “I guess...” He let his voice trail off, his tongue darting across his lower lip as he poked around inside his head for the right words to convey what he felt. “I guess I’ve gotten tired of being Sebastian’s punching bag.”

The words were out before he even realized it, and he gasped as they reverberated through his head. No, he hadn’t just said that aloud, had he? His eyes widened; he’d never meant to reveal that much about himself. He wondered if he could blame it on the comfortable air of the man beside him.

He swallowed, still coming to terms with the fact that just being in Kurt’s presence made him feel safe. When had that happened?

“Please don’t pity me,” he whispered, his eyes dropping to the bedsheets to avoid Kurt’s eyes. “I didn’t choose this life willingly, but I did what I had to do to save someone I love.” His mouth went dry; surely he wasn’t going to confess that bit of information to Kurt? Hesitation held his tongue, his mouth forming a silent word.

Kurt didn’t know much about the situation between Blaine and Smythe – no one really did. He just knew that they’d been an item for nigh on five years and that Sebastian treated Blaine like a trophy. There were rumors that things weren’t always hunky dory, but Kurt didn’t pay attention to idle gossip. And even if he did, he hadn’t known Blaine back then, so it wasn’t like he could have or would have done anything, anyway.

Blaine hinting that he was another unwilling victim of Smythe’s brutality really made sparks of anger ignite in Kurt. From what he’d gathered in their short time together, Blaine was stubborn, but kind and smart, and clearly not deserving of his lot in life. He should have had someone better than Smythe, someone who didn’t treat him like a thing to be used and put on display whenever the situation or obligation called for it. Then again, Blaine had said he’d done it to save a loved one, so maybe he already had someone out there like that.

“This ‘someone,’” Kurt said, after a moment of silently watching Blaine. “Is he someone… special?”

Blaine exhaled a soft chuckle and lifted his head to meet Kurt’s gaze. “Who said I was referring to a ‘he’?” he teased. He couldn’t be certain, but he thought there was the tiniest hint of jealousy lurking in Kurt’s words. He licked his lips, his earlier hesitation still dogging him.

After a moment, he shook it off; it would do no harm to tell Kurt the truth. “Yes, he is someone special, but not like you’re thinking – he’s my older brother, Cooper. He... he owned a speakeasy several years ago that was raided by cops. All the liquor, the cash – everything was confiscated.”

He paused again, his skin prickling. Not many knew the true story of how Sebastian and he had become an item, and he wasn’t sure he could handle the repulsion he was certain he’d see in Kurt’s face. He didn’t want Kurt to think less of him, but he’d already begun the tale. He couldn’t leave it hanging there.

Sighing heavily, he continued. “We owed money – a lot of money – to Fat Sal.” He paused just a moment to let that name sink in; he was certain Kurt would know it. Fat Sal was the most notorious mob boss in New York. “Everything we were using to pay him was seized by the cops, and with Cooper in the big house for who knows how long, I… I was in over my head. But Sebastian promised he’d take care of our debt... for a price, of course.” His face twisted into disgust at himself, and he looked away, not wanting to see Kurt’s face. “I was desperate; Fat Sal would’ve killed me. At the time, Sebastian was the lesser of two evils.”

Kurt soaked up that information and let it stew. He definitely knew of Fat Sal; anyone who tried to make a name for himself in their line of work knew him. He certainly wasn’t a man to be crossed. And to think Blaine had been on the receiving end of his ire was enough to make Kurt shudder. Kurt had only met the man once in his life, when he was his old boss’s errand boy, and he was frightening even then. There was something about the man – a confidence that he could do what he wanted whenever he wanted and no one could do anything to stop him. He was the top dog, and anyone who crossed him would either end up in jail or face up in the river.

He could certainly understand why Blaine would choose Smythe over Sal. He didn’t like that Blaine had had to make that choice, but he understood he was doing what he had to, to survive. It didn’t make Blaine’s situation all right, though, and all Kurt could think was that he didn’t want Blaine to be put between that rock and hard place again.

“You don’t have to worry about either of them anymore. I promised you Smythe wouldn’t get you, and the same goes for Fat Sal. You’re safe here, Blaine.”

Blaine couldn’t speak for several minutes, a tight burning sensation at the back of his throat. He blinked a few times, trying to dislodge the tears he could feel welling up beneath his lashes, and took a couple of deep breaths. He couldn’t understand why Kurt would be so willing to take him in, protect him. Part of him wanted to melt into Kurt and thank him with a litany of kisses, but the larger, more cautious part of his being held back. He knew better than to think there was anything more to this than Kurt wanting information on Sebastian.

That thought knocked him out of his reverence, and he shook his head, steeling himself against the feelings bubbling up inside him. “For a price, right? I tell you what I know about Sebastian’s operations, and you’ll protect me.” He felt a pang in his heart and wished he’d met Kurt first. He could see himself falling in love with him.

He swallowed against the lump in his throat. “Well, promise that you’ll never raise your hand to me, in anger or otherwise, and we have a deal.”

Kurt just stared at Blaine. Having the man bluntly point out the entire reason for keeping him at Kurt’s home was quite a shock to the intimacy of the moment. He’d almost forgotten his own motives, but, thankfully, his guest was kind enough to remind him.

It was enough to make him tense up and his demeanor changed to something more professional and business-like. “I’ve never hit anyone in my entire life – I’m certainly not going to start now. No one will hurt you, Blaine. Not me, not my men, not anyone. I promise you that.”

Blaine noticed the change in Kurt’s bearing, and his brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of it. Had his first instinct been correct? Had Kurt actually cared enough about him to want to protect him? Blaine blinked and shook his head slightly at the thought. No, it was just business; that was all.

When the true potency of Kurt’s offer hit him, his skin prickled with excitement. He’d be free of Sebastian. There’d be no more need to tiptoe around, wondering what mood the other man might be in and whether it was a good idea to approach him or not. He could finally relax and not have to be on guard.

Well, not as much, at least.

He licked his lips and nodded. “Thank you, Kurt. It’s— It’s been a long time since I’ve felt safe anywhere.” His mouth curled into a soft smile – and then he yawned.

Kurt nodded and gave the barest hint of a smile. “Well, now you can.” He sat up once again, this time not stopping as he moved to the edge of the bed. “Get some sleep, Blaine. I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.”

Then, before the man could protest again and call Kurt back to bed, Kurt stood up and headed out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.

Kurt rested his forehead against the door, briefly scolding himself for forgetting his purpose with his handsome guest, then made his way down the hall to his room.

It took him a long time to get to sleep. His brain would not stop going over the conversation in Blaine’s room and his own uncontrollable need to protect Blaine. Add that to the intense handjob he’d given Blaine in the bathtub the day before, and Kurt could appreciate that he’d been reminded of the need to keep things professional. Sex with Blaine was amazing, and if it resulted in more top-secret information on Smythe, Kurt was all for continuing in that vein, but he needed to keep his emotions in check. This was a business arrangement, and developing feelings for Blaine, protective or otherwise, simply would not do.