"I think the idea we need to create is 'off-duty debonair'," Blaine was saying as Kurt finished changing and approached the photographer. "Undone bow ties, open necked shirts, laid back poses," Blaine continued, noticing Kurt's entrance but ignoring him, the photographer looking carefully at Blaine, images floating across his mind. "Definitely black and white."

Kurt looked carefully at Blaine. He was wondering where all these ideas had come from and what went through his mind. He really was confusing and deeply frustrating. Blaine was obviously a jerk, had acted like an ass but now here he was describing photo ideas perfectly and doing exactly what needed to be done – giving control back to the models, letting people know that they had minds too. Kurt felt his mouth open slightly as he watched Blaine work a little more magic over the photographer.

"I see," the photographer was saying, nodding silently, "I think we need to discuss the dynamic between the two of you though. I can see Kurt in these positions but where would you be?"

Blaine looked at Kurt then as if he had only just realised he was in the room and listening.

"What do you think Kurt?" he said quietly, his clear eyes looking deeply at Kurt as if they alone might hold the answer. Kurt was taken aback.

"Oh, I don't know," he said and he silently cursed that he had sounded so clueless and idiotic. "I guess either you're watching, looking over and completely detached or you want to join."

"Yes," the photographer said excited and jumping up, moving his hands to suggest angles and movement. "I'm thinking the latter, you want to join in Blaine but you don't know how to, you're envious and detached but desperate to get a little closer."

Blaine didn't like the implication but he nodded, accepting the idea, wanting nothing more than to appear amenable.

The photographer started to undress Kurt, take off the bow tie and lace it around his neck, letting it hang as he undid the top button of his shirt. Kurt felt a blush creep along his face and he tried to avoid Blaine's eye as he noticed Kurt's discomfort. Kurt was again moved to sit on the sofa, his body adjusted so he looked laid back and casual. He was asked to lay one of his arms over the top of his thigh and look in the distance, the other arm leaning on the sofa behind him. Blaine was instructed to stand a little way off from the sofa and stare at Kurt and no acting was needed – he wanted the guy that sat so casually, that seemed so aloof and unattainable. He swallowed, reigning in his growing desire and willing himself to concentrate on the task ahead.

"Great Blaine," the photographer said as he papped away, lights adjusted, "Place your hand on the back of the sofa as if you want to get that little bit closer. Fantastic!"

They were asked to move again, their faces this way and that until the camera was placed again on its tripod and Blaine and Kurt relaxed.

"I have the perfect idea," the photographer said leading Blaine away from Kurt who watched from the sofa. "Wear this," he said giving Blaine a waistcoat and he seemed to notice the bright pink glasses that had been placed on the side when Blaine entered the room. "And these," he added and Blaine looked a little confused but complied and changed.

He came forward, the waistcoat slightly baggy on his frame but the long sleeved shirt open at the neck, with the pink sunglasses looped inside his shirt at the top. He was moved to a light grey backdrop and Kurt, seemingly forgotten, turned so he could see the shot unfold. Blaine was asked to move his head again, different shots taken and Kurt moved slowly to the monitor as the shots were uploaded onto the screen.

They were breathtaking and Kurt felt his breath still. There was one shot where Blaine was looking to the side, his expression slightly imploring, his stance straight, his hair ruffled and curly. He looked sad but resigned and Kurt knew then the magic of the camera and the beauty that was standing near him.

Kurt was then given a velvet jacket to wear and he stood against a pitch black backdrop, a single light shining on him and he was asked to place his hands in his pocket and to look sideways into the distance. Blaine was given suspenders and his pink sunglasses and the photographer played with the shots, changing the black and white so the only hint of colour came from the glasses, bright pink against the sombre background. He looked so happy and carefree as he posed, a silent laugh across his face that Kurt was mesmerised until the final snap and click and Blaine returned his pose to normal, ever the consummate actor and Kurt felt like he had been tricked. They were soon asked to change and they returned to the changing room at the back.

Blaine had his back to Kurt as he shimmied out of his tight pants and Kurt could see only his ass in his tight boxers. Kurt lifted his gaze away and swallowed before he spoke.

"You were amazing," Kurt whispered, "Your shots were amazing."

Blaine turned slowly, still only in his shirt and boxers and searched Kurt's expression for any trace of irony or mockery.

"Thanks," he said quietly, not sure how to take the praise, "I guess you have learnt a lesson today."

"What lesson's that?" Kurt asked.

"How to act like a pro when you don't feel it," Blaine said, still clutching his pants in front of him as if they protected him from Kurt. "How to work the professionals in your favour and...." Blaine turned away, Kurt's intense gaze a little too much as he started unbuttoning his shirt.

"And?" Kurt asked.

"And how to appear beautiful when your soul is black," Blaine said, barely audible but his shaky whisper could be heard and as Blaine finished dressing and he picked up his belongings, deliberately avoiding Kurt's gaze, Kurt watched, Blaine's last phrase whirling in his mind, over and over.

Kurt blinked as Blaine left him alone to change, thinking over what had been heard and exchanged and more confused than ever. Where was the cocky and annoying Blaine now? He seemed more real but so far away and Kurt wanted to grip onto him before he disappeared entirely. As he came out of the changing room, clutching his phone and keys, he searched the room for Blaine but found it empty. Sara looked over with a confused expression but he gestured for her to stay where she was and he would return. He left the make shift photography studio and entered the hotel lobby, again his eyes darting this way and that in search of Blaine and caught a glimpse of a moving figure out near the bar at the furthest end.

Blaine was ordering a scotch and he sat at the bar, clearly in his own world oblivious to Kurt sitting near him and ordering his own drink, just an orange juice.

"I don't understand you," Kurt whispered so only Blaine could hear and Blaine looked up, a little startled to find Kurt so close. "Why the act? Why do you want to come off as such an ass?"

Blaine thought for a long time, staring at the warm brown liquid in his tumbler.

"Oh it's not an act," he said, avoiding his gaze, "I am an ass."

"No you're not," Kurt said simply, "So why pretend."

"It's just easier," Blaine said, still looking down. Kurt looked at Blaine's drink, noticing how the browns and the ambers matched his eyes as Blaine swirled his drink round and round.

"Do you like your job?" Kurt asked.

Blaine looked up so suddenly Kurt was a bit surprised and he instinctively sat back. Blaine had never been asked such a simple question, it was normally a given that he loved his job, who wouldn't? The travelling, the pampering, the adoration and appreciation of his beauty and he had loved it all at first. Being snapped up as a late teen at a time when he was ridiculed for his sexuality and desperate to get out of high school, he jumped at the opportunity to escape his life and live his dreams. It had been magnificent at first, surrounded by people that awwed and ahhed at his beautiful contours and his smouldering eyes and his sweet bow lips but after a while he saw through the comments and the desperate cloying closeness of the people around him. They didn't know him and they didn't take the time to bother. He was a face, a body and a beauty and all he could do was lap up the praise and take the rewards.

"I used to I guess," Blaine said after a while, "I think I can see through it a little more now."

"Which is why you hate me so much?" Kurt said and Blaine blinked, wanting to deny that he hated him but knowing there was some truth to what he said. "You think I need to be taken down a peg or two on this successful ladder. You want me to know." There was no malice or annoyance in Kurt's voice. He understood and Blaine found himself nodding.

"Well you don't need to worry," Kurt said getting up after finishing his drink, "I know."

Kurt was near the door before he was stopped by Blaine's gentle hand and he turned to see Blaine's wide eyes, open and confused.

"Don't go," Blaine pleaded and Kurt hesitated until Blaine spoke again. "There's a party tonight for GQ. Tabitha invited me." He left it hanging in the air but Kurt said nothing. "Will you come?"

Kurt had never seen him so small and he wondered what courage it had taken for him to ask. He found himself nodding.

"Ok, I'll come."

The music was loud and Kurt entered as people bustled around the room, no one dancing, no one listening. The lights flashed, speeding around at different angles and in different colours, never focusing on one spot for any length of time. The beat pulsed and made the room jump and Kurt seemed to float through the room, his feet never really touching the floor, only the beat carrying him along.

Something in Blaine's tone as he left the hotel lobby stuck in Kurt's mind and led him to come to the party alone. He watched the gathering of models, the older and sophisticated looking languid and bored as others mingled and swirled in the crowd – eager to please and ingratiate themselves. Kurt hovered around in the corner of the room until two models approached and air kissed him on the cheek. They tried to discuss his shoots that week, initiate a discussion on what he had been doing and the contracts they had secured for themselves. Kurt tried to sound interested, smiled at their eagerness and offered advice when it was asked. It was clear they were just starting out and admired Kurt's poise but he felt himself get a little lost amongst the questions and the desire to reach a higher plane. He smiled then excused himself, saying he needed a drink.

As he turned, drink in hand, he bumped into someone taller and almost spilled his drink on their firm chest.

"Oh I'm so sorry," Kurt started as he looked up and into Sebastian's sardonic smirk.

"No problems Kurt," he drawled, enjoying it a little too much. "Enjoying the party so far?" he said eying his drink held high and Kurt's perfectly sculpted wrist, the bone jutting out slightly.

"It's ok," Kurt said simply, "What I expected really." He looked around the room, hoping to find Blaine or someone he knew a little better than Sebastian, some way of escape.

"Looking for someone?" Sebastian said and Kurt thought it sounded like a smirk, like he was constantly being teased and he briefly considered throwing his drink in his face, just to see what his face would look like then.

"No one in particular," Kurt said, trying for nonchalance.

"I'm waiting for the party to start too," Sebastian said, looking around, "I wonder when Anderson will turn up. I do love that pretty ass."

Kurt looked sharply at him, shocked at his attitude and the mention of Blaine.

"Oh yes, you've felt it too haven't you Hummel?" Sebastian laughed, "Want it for yourself? I don't blame you."

"I don't want Blaine's ass," Kurt said, blushing deeply and the lights flashing around the room changed to a red colour, hinting at hell and giving his face a look of horror.

"Oh I think that pretty blush of yours tells me otherwise," Sebastian said leaning closer to Kurt's ear and Kurt realised he was trying to irk him, wind him up and intimidate him. He stood back.

"Well you're wrong," Kurt said confidently taking another sip of his drink.

"Don't throw away the chance if you get it Hummel," Sebastian continued, further back now. "He's a sweet ass definitely, gives it up so nicely too."

Kurt hated him.

"It was you at the hotel with him?" Kurt asked but really it came out as a statement of realisation and Sebastian laughed loudly.

"Yes indeed, I saw that little photo too," he said, "It really didn't do him justice."

Kurt could feel bile rise in his throat at the disgusting comments Sebastian was saying. To discuss sex and Blaine so trivially really riled him and it showed clearly on his face.

"Don't look at me like that Hummel," Sebastian said, a hint of anger in his voice, "You don't get to judge me with your white virgin ass. Blaine knows the deal and it's convenient. I expect nothing from him and he gets nothing in return. It's a hard job, this is just one of the perks. Maybe if you'd been in the business a little longer, you'd know. I'm sure you'll find out the hard way." Sebastian turned to leave and started a conversation with another group of models, looking at Kurt to see how his comment had played out on Kurt's face. He smirked when he saw Kurt's cold stare straight ahead. Kurt prepared to leave when he saw him.

Blaine was smiling. That perfect slowly sardonic smile plastered on his face and showing anyone he met or air-kissed that he was here and perfect and available. He was walking in, people seeming to part slightly and so desperate to touch him, make their presence known. Ever the charmer, Blaine had time for everyone, a word to say in greeting, a warm smile or shake of the hand. He walked fully into the room and grabbed a drink from a passing waiter when he saw Kurt and his fake smile faltered slightly. He was taking in Kurt's stony expression as he came closer.

"You made it," Blaine said as he stood in front of Kurt, "Have you been here long?"

"Just long enough to have a full exacting conversation with Sebastian," Kurt said ruefully and Blaine wondered what they had discussed. He didn't have long to ponder before Kurt filled him in, his sarcastic bite back and his eyes a stone-cold blue.

"Oh he filled me in on your little arrangement," Kurt said, looking around for another drink, a waiter. "I know all about the August party and your quote pretty ass unquote." Kurt saw a waiter and he reached out for a drink quickly. Blaine's eyes widened as he saw Kurt fiercely grab a drink and gulp down the fizzy liquid. The bitch was back and Blaine felt his own guard go up.

"Oh right," he said, instantly cocky and confident, "Jealous are you Hummel?" Kurt looked taken aback, instantly recognising the tone. "You should have said, I would gladly let you tap this."

Kurt was horrified and stood back, looking over Blaine's face as if to chase the ghost of the real Blaine.

"Or I bet you would be the perfect bottom," Blaine smirked, chancing a glance at Kurt's ass encased in his tight red pants.

Kurt moved so his ass couldn't be ogled and stood further back.

"Get lost Anderson," he said, finishing his drink and hoping to find somewhere to put his empty glass. "Sebastian may like that kind of arrangement but I certainly don't. I think I've said before, I don't do models." His emphasis on the word 'do' had Blaine swallowing in awe. He was so cold, so porcelain, Blaine had an urge to pull him closer, watch him come undone.

"I think I'll be going," Kurt said, preparing to leave, "I see there's nothing for me here after all."

He walked coldly out of the room and never looked back, as Blaine watched, slightly dazed and beautifully confused. He shook his head finally and practically ran towards the exit, catching Kurt just in time, grabbing him by the wrist, as Kurt turned round quickly.

"What...." Kurt only had time to say as firm lips were pressed against his own and forcing his eyes closed. He let their lips move together for only a moment before he realised and stood back, breathing heavily.

"What are you doing Anderson?" Kurt choked out, his eyes wide and lips already cherry red. The kiss had been hard.

"Showing you what you've been missing out on," Blaine said, looking at his eyes then his lips and breathing deeply. "Don't you want to know what all the fuss is about?"

Kurt felt nervous butterflies in his stomach at the sardonic tone, the leer and the lust blown eyes. He felt like he was being devoured and it shocked him that he didn't want it to stop. Blaine seemed to understand Kurt's indecision and he stepped closer, his mouth hovering near Kurt's ear.

"Don't you want to know what all the fuss is about?" he repeated, his warm whisper near Kurt's ear lobe going straight to his cock. "Don't you want to know how many ways I can make you come? God Kurt, I bet you look so pretty when you come," he said, practically salivating and Kurt almost sunk in on himself.

The door behind him suddenly opened and Kurt was broken out of his reverie as he stepped aside to let a couple in. When he looked back up he could only stare at Blaine's dark eyes and wonder if his own were so lust blown. He gulped, glad the moment was broken, worried what he might have done.

"Yes I probably do," Kurt said simply, "But it's a privilege that you'll never see Anderson."

And he turned fiercely, his straight back showing poise and control when his insides were squirming. Blaine looked on and for the first time since he had become a model, he realised he had been rejected and he had never felt so alone and pathetic.