Since he started working for the agency, he was living the night life. Actually, he made himself love the darkness so much that he didn't let his clients to leave the lights on, if they weren't particularly demanding. He didn't want to be watched. He didn't want to see the pity in their eyes. He didn't want to be judged. That's why he was always leaving before the dawn, before the first sunshine rays appeared above horizon.

Like I said, Kurt didn't like the sun anymore. 'Cause in the sunlight, he was able to see all of his scars. Not only the ones on his body.

Sighing, Kurt slid down his jeans a little (Since he bought them, he lost weight so quickly that he didn't even have to unbutton them) and critically looked at the bruises on his hips. Looks like he was going to scare his clients for the next month. Damnit.

Suddenly Kurt's phone started ringing. Without looking away from the mirror, he took it out of his pocket and accepted the call.

"Yeah?"

"I have an offer to you, sweet Roxanne."

'Sweet.' He sighed, irritated. So he wasn't going to like the offer.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked simply.

"Oh, it's not what you think. It's just... I want you to incline your rules a little."

He raised his eyebrows and quickly fixed his hair.

"Women are not my thing, I told you."

"You've missed again. Not that rule."

Kurt groaned.

"I'm not going to sleep with the same guy for the second time!"

"He insisted! He promised, he'll pay twice your price. Roxanne, just think about this!"

No. There was no way that Kurt will bend any of his rules. It has never ended well. Apart from his profession, there were still things that were more important to him than money. But if...

He bit his lip.

"I'm not considering it, but what customer do you have in mind?"

"I can't tell you."

'Or you don't want to', thought Kurt.

"I don't like it" he said.

Arlette laughed out loud.

"I knew you were going to do this."

When she gave him an address, it didn't take him much time to realize who was his mystery client.

***
Kurt rested his hands on his hips.

"Let's do this," he said coldly.

Bryan was Kurt's first client. The first one who was assigned to him from the agency. Kurt, however, liked to tell himself he didn't remember that. No, he didn't remember how he felt when this guy moved his fingers across his skin, knowing that every inch of it is for sale. No, he didn't remember how he felt when he was coming in his arms. And the most important, he didn't remember this voice, repeating his name like a mantra and shamelessly cutting the silence.

Kurt was wondering why Bryan decided to find him now.

He pretended that he didn't remember him. He never looked him in the eyes. He didn't try to see his face, when they were kissing. He didn't check if he changed or if he was still attracted to him.

He was simply doing his job.

It wasn't only about professionalism. There was a reason why Kurt wanted to make Bryan disappear from his life.

When Kurt started his job in the agency, he was already a little bit experienced, but he quickly realized how much he still has a lot to learn. So far he was able to separate sex and feelings and those were things that he found the most important about this job.

Bryan made him realize how wrong he was.

Kurt wouldn't have that problem, if he's first customer was some disgusting, old guy, one of those you can find everywhere. He wouldn't have a problem, if he wasn't attracted to him and he would be able just to close his eyes and wait until everything is over.

But Bryan was different. One night with him taught Kurt all of the rules he was still obediently following.

You see, Bryan never wanted to dominate Kurt. He never wanted to humiliate him. Bryan never bothered with dirty or sweet talk. Bryan wasn't lying. Bryan never pretended that he cared. Bryan simply was.

In spite of the things he was telling himself, Kurt never forgot those eyes. Never forgot the dilating pupils, when they both felt the world shattering around them, separating them from everything. Kurt never forgot what those eyes made him do.

As you probably already noticed, Kurt let himself to break the rules from time to time. But after the incident with Bryan, he never broken one - never mix you private life with your work. Always separate feelings from physicality.

And no matter how badly Kurt wanted it, he wasn't able to forget that night.

He still remembered what he felt when he fell, completely exhausted, on the pillow. He remembered the feeling of his heart breaking in the million pieces. He remembered what he felt when he cuddled to Bryan, crying on his shoulder for the next hour.

In his whole life Kurt never felt so fragile and vulnerable like he was that day.

When they were lying next to each other, Kurt started speaking. Without good grammar or keeping the normal pace of events, he was simply telling Bryan different stories.

No, no different stories.

The concrete one.

He told him about Blaine.

Kurt still felt the weight of the things he said, when he was kissing those familiar lips. But this time, he promised himself that he won't speak at all.

His fingers skillfully started to work Bryan's shirt open, letting his hands move across his chest. Bryan sighed quietly, never stopping kissing Kurt's neck. He grabbed him by the hips, moving him closer, trying to close every inch between them, just like he wanted to get rid of every limit. Like clothes, for example. His hands cupped Kurt's ass which he welcomed with a relieve. Maybe this night won't be that different than the others. Bryan grabbed Kurt's waist and picked him up, settling him on the table, never breaking the kiss. Kurt wrapped his legs around Bryan's waist to bring him closer.

And that's when Bryan moved away from him.

"I can't," he whispered.

Kurt blinked few times, trying to contain his rapid breathing.

"Excuse me?"

"I can't.

Bryan fell down on the bed, moving his hands across his face. Kurt looked at him, silent, and knowing he'll regret it, he sat next to him. After a while Bryan spoke again.

"What happened to you, Roxanne?"

Kurt didn't know what to say.

"You see, you weren't the first prostitute I've met," continued Bryan. "I remember, however, what grabbed my attention. That glint in your eyes."

Kurt was speechless. He tried to avoid Bryan's gaze, but his strong hands grabbed his face, forcing him to look him in the eyes. Kurt didn't know what else to do, so he hid himself behind his eyelids. "Please, don't destroy this," he begged, never opening his eyes.

He felt Bryan's hands moving slowly down his cheeks, before finally releasing him. "I was looking for you," he said after the moment of silence. "All the time. I was told that the agency can't give me your address. And that you don't want to see me. But every day I was hoping that I'll meet you. Or, that you'll change your mind."

Kurt slowly opened his eyes, but Bryan wasn't looking at him. When he looked him in the eyes, he saw something he never expected to see.

Tenderness.

His head started spinning.

"What do you expect from me?" he asked. His voice was trembling from anger. "Because I don't understand."

"Kurt, I..."

Kurt completely forgot that Brian knew his name and it only made him even more angry.

"You! Exactly! You! Why do you think I care?"

Bryan was simply looking at him, trying to say something, but Kurt wasn't going to stop right now.

"Life is not a movie, Bryan. You can believe in being my own Ewan McGregor and you can start singing "Come What May", trying to assure me about your devotion to the whore, but we all know that in that fairytale, prince will leave his princess after she'll spread her legs in front of him! So don't pretend you care about something more than fucking me all night long!"

Bryan didn't say anything else. Actually, none of them spoke again. The only sounds escaping them were only quiet sighs and moans.

After everything, Bryan started crying. He begged Kurt not to leave him. Kurt only nodded, wiping the tears out of his lover's eyes, promising he'll stay.

However, when the sunlight woke Bryan up the next morning, Kurt was gone. The left side of the mattress was cold and empty, but when Bryan pressed his face to the pillow, he could still feel the strong scent of Roxanne. It was the only thing that made him sure that this night wasn't just a dream. When he was leaving the room, he saw the money laying on the small table next to the door.

It was the first time when Kurt didn't accept his payment.

They've never met again.

***
After the night with Bryan, Kurt answered only one of Arlette's calls, just to tell her he needs a week off. And so the week passed by. Then another two weeks. For most of the time, Kurt didn't leave his bed. Usually, he was too drunk to even think about it. He still didn't answer calls from anyone, even from Rachel. When she was knocking on his door, Kurt pretended he wasn't there. After a while she stopped coming, but Kurt knew that it didn't mean she gave up. It just wasn't the first time when Kurt was hiding himself from the world. Rachel knew he'll be fine if she gives him some time.

A month passed by.

And after a month, Kurt finally picked up the phone. Arlette obviously wasn't expecting him to answer, because she didn't say anything. Kurt quickly used her silence.

"Give me anything" he said shortly.

Arlette asked no questions.

***
Kurt from the beginning knew what kind of customer was that. Clenched lips, uptight figure, taciturnity. He knew, that after that night, in the best way, he'll only have a couple of bruises. When he felt the man tugging his wrist, he closed his eyes, trying to stop the irritated sigh. It could only make his client angrier. For every touch, even the most brutal one, Kurt responded with light brushes. He didn't feel disgust. And even if, it wasn't for the man whose hands were going to make new bruises in Kurt's once flawless skin.

Kurt hadn't remember many things connected to this profession, but even if he would like to, he couldn't forget the first time when his customer hit him. In his memory this moment seemed to last forever while in reality it only lasted few seconds. He didn't remember which pain was stronger or what made his cheek blush - the quick movement of his customer's hand or the burning feeling of humiliation. Kurt was still fresh, so he has done what seemed appropriate back then. He ran away, as fast as he could, leaving behind everything and promising himself he'll never let that happened again. No one pushes Hummels around, right?

How easily he forgot about this. He never felt guilty, though. All it took was to stop looking in the mirror.

There was something wrong with that man, Kurt realized and his scent hit Kurt's nostrils strongly. He tried to ignore the panic raising inside his chest, not knowing how to deal with it. He had bad feeling about this from the very beginning.

This thought accompanied him when his client quickly removed the only barrier separating their bodies, sliding his not-very-brand boxers off Kurt's hips. He hissed quietly, when the material teased painfully his hipbones. It was the last thing Kurt remembered before he felt the worst pain he has ever left in his life.

***
White.

Everything was white.

Kurt's eyes were still closed, but he felt the light invading his eyes, making him feel pain.

Pain.

Kurt moved anxiously.

This word moved something in his memory, but the silent voice inside his head told him that he shouldn't think too much about this. Without second thoughts, he listened to the advice and let his thoughts take other direction. He had to establish few things.

First of all, he was curious where he was right now.

Second of all, why was he here?

Third of all, why it was so hard for him to find his proper limbs and move them?

Fourth of all, how do you use your eyes?

Fifth of all, who was holding his hand right now?

Kurt knew that there's only one way to find the answers for all of his questions. Despite the screaming inside him, telling him it's a bad idea, he blinked few times.

He regretted it instantly. The pain was unbearable. He wanted to scream, but somewhere he lost his voice. Maybe it burnt down in the same flame that was now consuming his whole body. Or maybe Kurt just didn't hear anything.

No. He quickly rejected that option. Because he heard something else. A voice, full of despair, chanting his name.

"Kurt, Kurt! You're moving, oh my God, you're moving! Come on, look at me, don't be afraid, I'll help you. don't give up. Only this one last battle, Kurt! Open your eyes! Fight!"

Kurt didn't want to hear that voice. It was making him ache. And it denied him this one thing he wanted the most - instead of that other voice, a little quieter, sounding inside his head, which encouraged him to subside into the nothingness.

"Kurt, I know you can hear me. Open your eyes, please. If you won't like what you'll see, you can do whatever you want. Just look."

Kurt didn't obey the order. He didn't remember how did he force his eyelids to move, but whatever it was, it didn't work now. He realized, however, that he knows where his tongue his. He took a risk.

"Blaine?"

Kurt didn't recognize his voice. It was much more thicker than normally and it was hurting his throat. It scared him. What if he lost his unique tone of voice? What if the fate took away from him everything that made him so special?

"Blaine, I won't get the solo," he said in a teary tone. "Now Mr. Schuester will kick me out of Glee Club. We'll lose the competition..."

"Kurt, what are you..."

But Kurt didn't listen to him anymore. Yes, he has to face Karofsky tomorrow. Why did he leave Dalton? Now, that he lost his voice, all of his friends will leave him with his oppressor.

"Blaine, you won't leave me, right? Not this time? You came back here, for me, I know you did. Blaine, if you only knew..."

He stopped. His memories stirred in Kurt's head, and he had problems with telling what happened when. Without opening his eyes, he started crying, realizing that he's not in high school anymore.

He realized that the hand holding his hand, never let go, even for a moment. The grip of Blaine's hand seemed to be the most right thing in the world. His fingers seemed to be craved the way to fit Kurt's hand perfectly. Just like in the past. Kurt thought that he feels bad for every guy Blaine was with after their relationship ended. He knew no one felt as good as Kurt did while holding his hand.

***
"...that you got here so quickly"

"How did you find me?"

"Let's say I made a pact with the devil. I can be pretty successful when I want to achieve something. And I'm sorry I brought you here that way... But I had to. He was talking about you all the time."

Someone swallowed loudly.

"What exactly?"

Hesitation.

"Nothing... nothing that matters. When he was more conscious, he just kept saying your name, begging me to find you, but... For the most of the time he had a lot of problems with telling the difference between reality and hallucinations. For a second he thought I'm you, he thought he's still in high school, he was talking about competition, Glee Club... I thought that maybe if he'll hear your voice, something will change."

Longer silence.

"You've done the right thing. But I doubt I'll be helpful, though... I might make everything worse."

"A week passed since the last time he woke up and he still didn't open his eyes. When I told you on the phone, that you're our... his last hope, I wasn't being dramatic."

Silence.

"Is it really that bad? Is he..."

"That's the problem, no. The doctors say that he's fully conscious, his wounds and damages aren't enough to be the cause. There's only one possibility. He's conscious, he listens to everything we say, but..."

"…he doesn't want to come back." Sigh. "Did they... Did they find that psychopath?"

"Yeah. The testimony of Kurt's... boss helped a lot."

"How did Kurt's boss know who did that?"

"Let's say that... they know each other very well. If Kurt wants to, he'll tell you about this himself."

Silence again. Kurt listened to everything, wondering to who those familiar voices belonged to. It really didn't matter to him. It was probably another hallucination. He was interested in one of the last information, though. His subconscious might have been right at this point. So he had an answer for one of his questions.

How long did he lay here?

He tried to raise his hand, but nothing happened. He felt few of his muscles clenching lightly, but it wasn't enough to reach his goal.

"Kurt?"

Did he succeed?

No. No way.

"Kurt, can you hear us?"

Kurt wanted to respond, but only quiet murmur left his throat. He felt someone grabbing gently his hand.

"Rachel, could you...?"

Rachel, of course. That means the other voice belongs to...

His heart speeded up.

It wasn't a hallucination.

He heard the sound of the door slamming and then the quiet sigh. Even that sound made him feel something, something Kurt hasn't felt in a really long time. It wasn't love. That feeling disappeared long time ago and nothing lasts forever. But right next to him was sitting his best friend. Kurt completely forgot about his problems, about the fact that he's no longer the person Blaine knew. Nothing really mattered. Kurt was Kurt. Blaine was Blaine. And he missed him so much.

He felt warm breath on his neck, then right next to his ear. Then he heard a quiet whisper.

"You don't have to say anything. Just squeeze my fingers if you want me to stay."

Kurt did what Blaine asked for, so quickly, like his life depended on it.

And then he opened his eyes.