Chapter 5:

Calloused, rough, scraping hands were on his hips, in his hair, gripping so tightly that he thought he might pass out from the sheer force of it all. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, tried to keep himself upright and strong, but he had an inkling that he'd been drugged. The world was spinning and his knees were buckling and the voices in his ear were echoing and far away, despite the hot breath against his neck.

Drinking the water he'd been offered when he had entered room 34 of the Traveller's Home Two-Star Motel had been a bad decision, clearly, but his mouth had been dry and his throat, raw, from what he'd done less than thirty minutes earlier in the side lane of a run-down bar in the city. He'd taken the glass and gone inside the bathroom to get himself ready and then he'd spent a long time staring at himself in the mirror, wondering how he had gotten to this stage in his life. His eyes had dark circles under them and there was a dirty thumb print on his cheek, near the left corner of his mouth. His hair was sticking up and his vision was getting a little blurry.

At the hoarse shout of one of the men outside, Blaine opened the door and stumbled back into the little room, feeling dizzy.

"I don't feel so good," he said and his voice sounded apart from him.

He heard coarse laughter and then there were hands on him, pulling him and tugging him and he tried to fight it, but it was no use, their grips were far too strong for him while he was in this state.

"Don't," he begged. "I don't think I c-can—"

He heard a ripping sound and then the material of his sweater was being dragged over his head at the same time that his pants were pushed down and out of the way.

"Don't fight and you won't get hurt."

The words echoed in his ears and he realised he was thrashing about, trying to get himself free.

"Don't," he managed, but the only response to that was another chorus of harsh laughter.

"I said don't fight," the voice said again, rougher this time and the impact against Blaine's face sent him plummeting backwards, but he landed on something soft; the bed.

Before he could attempt to push himself up, lip throbbing, two sets of hands were on him again and he was being forced onto his knees, hands on the rusted bars of the headboard. He felt the hot, heavy press of latex against his lips and he shook his head, refusing to open, but at the same time, the other man thrust himself inside of him from behind and Blaine's mouth opened in a cry and the condom covered cock was shoved inside.

He tried to get away, tried to resist, tried to spit and splutter and just make it stop, but his body was failing him, ignoring his every protest and just taking it, like he had trained himself to do. He wasn't sure what made this so different, but looking back on it, it had been the drug, whatever they'd forced into his system.

The fingers in his hair were pulling brutally and the hands on his hips were pressing so hard that he knew, even in his state, that he would be bruised later. The man in front of him was pushing himself in and out of Blaine's mouth too quickly and too forcefully and Blaine's teeth ached and his throat tasted like copper and latex. It wasn't long before the cock was being pushed further inside, making him gag and gasp for air.

"Relax," he heard.

The cock stilled where it was too far down his throat and the hands left his hair and found their way around his neck where they squeezed and he felt the hot well of tears in his eyes as he tried with everything he had to get away, to get his breath back and then when he felt as if it was all too much, all too far away, the pressure around his throat was relieved and he dropped his head, panting heavily. The thrusting inside him from behind didn't stop, however, and the burn was slow, but extremely painful and the hands on his hips were still far too hard, rigid, dirty finger nails pressing half-moon shaped indentations into his skin.

A minute or so later, his lips were being prodded apart again and he made a sound, begging the guy not to do this, but it was no use. He tried to bite down, desperate now. He heard a loud hiss of pain and then he was being punched in the face.

"Filthy. Little. Whore," the man said with each hit.

The words were like a far away ringing sound and then the cock was in his mouth again, too far down, and the hands returned to his throat and this time, he saw a bright blur of light and then everything went frighteningly dark.

Blaine blinked himself awake, his mind dizzy and aching. There was a painful throbbing in his neck area and his throat ached as he gasped for air. The world came into view like something out of a movie, his vision almost rippling back to normality and when he could see, he wanted to go back to sleep again.

The two men were looking down over him and whispering loudly to each other. Blaine couldn't hear what they were saying. His mind reeled and his back ached and he just wanted to go home. He was becoming lucid enough to know that the drug had to have been wearing off. At this point, money was the furthest thing from his mind, he just wanted to push himself up, get dressed and get out of there. However, when he tried to move, his body failed and it was frustrating.

"What'll we do with him?" the smaller one asked and this time, Blaine could hear him perfectly, despite the faint, distant echo of his words.

"Will you stop talking and let me think?" the other one growled.

"I think he's waking up." Pause. "He looks fine now, Barry. I say we go for round three."

Round three? Blaine wondered. He hadn't remembered a round two.

"Oh, that looks fine to you, Eugene?" Barry asked. "Maybe if you hadn't tried to choke him to death with your God damned dick—"

"I didn't try to choke him," Eugene replied, but he didn't sound very sure of himself. "He's a whore, he shoulda been able to take it."

Blaine's ears were ringing.

"Christ." Barry reached up and scratched at his grizzled hair. "He's just a kid."

"That didn't matter when you were forcing him on his hands and knees—"

"I'm not the one who almost killed him!" Barry said angrily.

"I already told you, I didn't try t—"

"Excuse me," Blaine heard himself saying.

Both men turned to look at him, blank expressions on their faces.

"D'you hear a ringing sound?" he asked.

The two men exchanged a meaningful glance.

"Ringing sound?" Eugene asked, looking worried.

How could they not hear it? It was so loud.

"He doesn't look so good..."

"I wonder why," Barry said, both sarcastically and impatiently. He looked around the room and then ran a hand through his greasy hair. "Pack up our stuff and tidy this place up. I'm gonna get him dressed."

Eugene disappeared, no questions asked and Blaine felt his eyes closing, despite every cell in his body screaming for him to get up and out. He felt himself being tugged upwards and his bones ached. He opened his mouth to let out a cry, but nothing came out.

"Come on, kid," Barry said, holding him upright.

"I wan' to g'home," Blaine murmured.

"Gotta get your clothes on first."

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Blaine said, stomach queasy.

"Not right now," Barry said, pushing Blaine's sweater over his head. He began pulling his arms through the sleeves. "We get outside, you can get sick all you want."

"'Kay," Blaine mumbled.

Barry propped Blaine up against the headboard and bent to redress his lower half. Blaine felt his head lolling back against his will, but before he could fall all the way backwards, he was being pulled to his feet. He felt two sets of hands on him, leading him across the room and then out the door. His eyes kept slipping shut as the two men led him down the hall and out past the front desk of the motel and when they got outside, the air hit him like a smack in the face and suddenly he felt very sick and very eager to get away.

"I need to go," he insisted, but the hands on his arms were tight and too hard to break free from in his current state.

"What are we doing with him?" Eugene asked.

"I dunno," Barry replied, sounding frustrated.

"I just live over there," Blaine said, pointing in a random direction. "I can just..."

"We could just leave him here," Eugene suggested.

"And what if he goes to the cops?" Barry said.

"He's not gonna go to the cops, he's a whore," Eugene reasoned. He turned and looked at Blaine. "You won't go to the cops, right, kid?"

Blaine shook his head, or tried to. "I just want to go home," he said, sounding more desperate than he would have liked. His head was throbbing.

"See?" Eugene said to Barry. "He's not gonna remember what we look like."

Blaine didn't think he would ever forget what they looked like, but he didn't say anything, just concentrated on trying not to fall down.

"Come on, Barry, just leave him down. He'll be fine. We'll never even see him again."

Barry stopped walking and looked at Blaine. "Where do you live?" he enunciated, as if Blaine was a child.

"Just..." He tried to point in any direction. "I can walk," he said, hopefully. "Or I c-can call...someone."

"Someone," Barry repeated, looking unconvinced.

"My boyfriend," Blaine said, quickly. "I... He can come get me."

Barry looked across at Eugene, who nodded enthusiastically, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else in the world.

"You won't tell anyone anything?" Barry asked Blaine.

Blaine shook his head again. "I've been th-through w-worse than th-this," he stammered. "I don't care, I j-just w-want my boy-boyfriend."

Barry seemed to think for a long time and Blaine could feel himself coming back to earth more and more with each passing minute. He was starting to panic. This was dangerous.

"Alright," Barry said, with a sigh. "Where should we leave him?"

"Here," Blaine said quickly. "I'll g-go home," he said. "I'll c-call him."

Eugene let him go and he fought not to fall to the ground. Barry, however, still had a firm grip on his left arm.

"No," Barry said. "No, we need to get him away from here. What if he goes inside and gets someone to call the cops?"

"Fine." Eugene sighed. "But can we hurry it up? It's freezing out here."

Blaine resisted the urge to cry out as he was led away yet again by the two men. They took him back into the middle of the city, which was practically empty, and left him outside a closed clothing store. He watched as they walked away, before hurrying home as fast as his feet could carry him. His head was still fuzzy and his entire body ached, but he managed to make it home and when he got there, all he wanted was Kurt. He needed Kurt.

Blaine jolted awake, those two faces still there every time he closed his eyes. He shook his head, hoping they'd go away and that was when he realised the space in the bed next to him was empty and it hadn't been some hours earlier when he had gone to sleep. Blaine sat up, but his neck ached and he fell back against his pillow with a groan.

"I'm here!" he heard from behind him and then suddenly, Kurt was there, sitting down next to him, fully dressed. "Sorry. Was I too loud? I was just going to make breakfast. I...didn't find much, but..." He shook his head. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I'd rather be anyone else," Blaine said, truthfully. "God, it hurts when I talk."

"Your neck is...severely bruised," Kurt informed him. "I was going to go get some food in. I could pick something up for your bruises and cuts on the way—"

"No," Blaine said. "No, just... You can go home. I'll be okay. Just...don't worry about me. It's fine."

"Blaine—"

"Kurt, really—"

"It's not fine, Blaine," Kurt told him and he looked like he might break down crying at any moment. "It's not."

Blaine closed his eyes and swallowed painfully. He opened them again. "Okay, it's not fine, but it's not your fault, so please, just go home and I'll call you."

"I'm obviously not going to just go home and leave you here," Kurt said, matter-of-factly. "Look, this isn't easy for me either, so let's just not pretend it didn't happen, okay? I'm here and I'm not going anywhere, so just...work with me. I want to help."

Blaine closed his eyes again and winced at the sharp pain in his ribs when he took too deep a breath. "Okay," he said, finally. "Just...give me time. I just need time to get myself together."

Kurt nodded quickly. "Of course," he said. "So, should I go pick up some stuff, or...?"

Blaine nodded and opened his eyes. He turned his head to meet Kurt's eyes, despite the discomfort in his throat. "I don't think I'm fully awake yet," he croaked out. "But thanks. For being here. I..." He paused, then went on, "I kind of wish that you weren't, because I never wanted you to be around...this kind of thing, but...I'm also glad. Because I..."

"Okay. Don't get upset," Kurt said, reaching out for his hand. "It'll only make the pain worse. Get some more sleep and I'll be back before you know it. Is there anything you want me to pick up?"

He spoke without thinking. "No."

"Okay," Kurt replied. He gave his hand a squeeze, then let go and stood up. He started messing with his hair, face twisted. "I look awful, I haven't even showered."

Blaine smiled weakly. "You never look awful," he told Kurt. "If you want to shower first, you can. Just turn up the heat." He didn't want to tell Kurt that he wasn't sure he could really afford the heat — sometimes he showered with cold water. "It doesn't take too long to heat up."

Kurt turned back to him. "No, it's okay," he said. He looked frustrated then, as his phone started to buzz in his pocket. "Rachel," he explained, rejecting the call. "We're not talking."

Blaine frowned. "Because of me?"

"No," Kurt said, picking up his jacket from where it was on the floor. "Because of her." He buttoned it up. "Don't worry about it," he went on. "Get some rest." He leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to Blaine's forehead. "I'll be right back."

Kurt was gone for about an hour. Unfortunately, that was more than enough time for Blaine to think.

Kurt pushed the door to Blaine's apartment open, pulling the plastic bags in behind him. He closed it with his hip and then placed the bags down on the small counter top. Blaine was silent, so Kurt assumed he was sleeping. He started to unpack the bags and began putting the food away and when he had done that, he went to check on his boyfriend.

It turned out that Blaine was not sleeping. Kurt found him where he had left him, in the bed, but instead of lying flat on his back as he had been earlier, he was sitting in the corner, knees curled up to his chest, his head in his hands.

"Blaine," Kurt said, softly, going to him, but Blaine flinched away. "Blaine, bab—"

"We shouldn't have done what we did," Blaine said, voice muffled.

"What?" Kurt asked, going closer. "Blaine, I—"

"Our first time," Blaine said, voice unsteady. "That was our first time and it happened...like that." He ran a hand through his hair. "I feel sick."

"No, no, please, Blaine," Kurt begged. "Please don't regret it," he said. "I don't."

Blaine looked up at him through frantic eyes. "B-but it was—"

Kurt shook his head and gripped his boyfriend's sweaty hand. "It was perfect," he told him.

"No," Blaine said, adamant. "It wasn't. It was awful a-and I never w-w-wanted it to be that w-way." He laughed suddenly, but without humour. "I wanted it to be... I was thinking ab-about it," he said. "Since we got clo-closer. I wanted to m-make it special. For you. I wanted to-to take you out and maybe g-get a hotel room and I wanted it to be di-di-different—"

"It was perfect because it was with you," Kurt cut him off. "I promise. It was perfect." He got to his knees and went closer, then reached up and caught Blaine's tears with his thumb. He smiled at him, blushing a little. "I hope I didn't hurt you."

"No!" Blaine shook his head quickly. "No, you never—"

"Okay," Kurt said, nodding. "Okay, I'm glad. Okay? Calm down. Get your breath."

Blaine was nodding, tears streaming down his face. Kurt was still panicking, but trying more than ever to keep himself together.

"Alright?" he asked. Blaine nodded. "Good," Kurt said, kissing Blaine's lips once. "Good," he repeated. "Come here." He pulled Blaine into his arms and held on tight, trying to show him how much he loved him. He was reluctant to say it out loud, because he didn't want Blaine to think another of their firsts was lost to a moment of pain and desperation.

"I feel so stupid," Blaine whispered, voice hoarse.

"You have no reason to feel that way," Kurt promised. He pulled back, but kept a grip on Blaine's arms. "This changes nothing. In fact, it just makes me feel closer to you. Okay?"

Blaine nodded again. "I've never felt that cl-close to anyone."

Kurt gave him a grin. "Me neither. See? This hasn't had any negative impact on us whatsoever. We're going to be stronger, better. You'll see."

Blaine was nodding, bottom lip trembling.

"But I need you to talk to me," Kurt said and before Blaine could protest, he went on, "I don't mean right this minute, but when you're ready. I want to know what happened. I want to know so that we can work at preventing it." He paused. "I want us to talk about us, too." Blaine looked alarmed, so Kurt continued, "Don't panic," he said. "We've reached another step in our relationship and we need to talk about that. But I'm not worried. I just want for us to be on the same page, okay?"

Blaine nodded, blinking slowly, tears clinging to his long lashes. "Okay," he whispered.

"You don't have to do too much talking yet," Kurt said. "I bought some food and stuff and I'm going to cook us something. I'll run you a bath and you can soak while I cook and then we'll eat and we'll go from there. Okay?"

"I'll pay you ba—"

"No, I'm eating here, too," he insisted. "Please, just accept this one thing from me. Please."

Blaine looked uncertain, but finally, he nodded. "Okay. Thank you."

Kurt beamed at him. "Okay!" he said. "I will go turn up the heat so you can have your bath. I got some bandages and some creams and balms—I'm not sure if they'll work, but I thought we could try. Do you want anything while we wait for the water to heat up?"

"Just a glass of water?" Blaine asked. "I can get it myself—"

"Stay right where you are," Kurt instructed. He was on his feet in a flash. "Today, I am at your beck and call. Just sit back and rest."

Blaine nodded and watched him go, wondering if he had gotten lucky, or Kurt had gotten unlucky.

Blaine watched in silence as Kurt used an antiseptic cream to clean his cuts and grazes. He would hiss and flinch every now and then, because it hurt, but mostly, he just watched, in awe of Kurt's strength and lack of disgust.

"I'm ready to listen whenever you're ready to talk," Kurt said, taking an alcohol wipe to dab at Blaine's cheek. "Sorry," he whispered, eyes dropping down Blaine's body. "Um. You're gorgeous, by the way. If I haven't told you that already." He was smiling bashfully.

"Thank you," Blaine whispered. "I didn't get a really good look, but I already know you're beautiful."

Kurt lifted his eyes to Blaine's and gave him a smile. He dropped the wipes and reached for something else. "I looked up what to do for bruises and a lot of websites said ice and rest, so..." He lifted the ice pack wrapped in a tea cloth to Blaine's neck. "Tell me if it gets too much."

Blaine nodded. He waited a minute or so and then said, without moving, "There were two of them."

Kurt drew back slightly to study him, confusion on his face and then it seemed to dawn on him. He closed the space between them again and pressed the tea towel back to Blaine's neck. "I'm listening."

Blaine nodded again. "It wasn't the worst thing I've ever had to deal with it, but...it was close." He paused, looking for any kind of uncertainty on Kurt's face. There wasn't any. "I went to this motel and...I think they drugged me." He shook his head. "No, I know I was drugged. It was stupid. I should have known not to drink, but it was just a glass of water and my throat..."

"So, this happened to you beforehand?" Kurt enquired, meaning the neck bruising.

"No, after," Blaine told him. "But inside my throat. I mean..." He still found it difficult to give Kurt every little detail.

"I understand," Kurt said.

"Some of them like to be rough," he went on, looking down at his knees. "Both of them were, but the smaller one, the one who was...using my mouth, he was...brutal, almost. I couldn't breathe while he...had it in my mouth, but then he was pushing further and he just...stopped, too far down and his hands just—they wound round my neck and-and squeezed. I couldn't-I didn't—"

"Okay," Kurt said, touching a hand to his cheek. "Okay. You're okay. Take your time. Don't get yourself worked up."

Blaine nodded and concentrated on his breathing. He waited, then continued, "I kept begging it to stop, I just wanted it all to stop. I blacked out. I think it was only once, but they were talking about 'going for round three' and I don't remember round two." He shrugged. "I don't know what they were going to do. I think they thought I was dead and they were panicking about how to get out of it, I don't know. I just-I woke up and it was wearing off—the drug. Whatever it was. I don't know. I just...I couldn't breathe and everything hurt and it was just—so much. I just wanted to go home."

Suddenly, Kurt was sitting upright, eyes wide and grave. "Okay," he said. "You told them to stop." Blaine nodded.

"And they didn't."

He nodded again.

"You were drugged and you told them no and they didn't stop."

"Yeah," Blaine said, not sure where he was going with this.

"Blaine," Kurt said, solemnly. "Sweetie, that's rape."

Blaine shook his head immediately. "No, I went with them. I knew what was happening."

"You said no, Blaine. It doesn't matter whether you went into it knowingly or-or any of that. You said no and you weren't even yourself because they drugged you." Kurt was getting upset now. "That's rape, Blaine."

"It's not a big deal," Blaine said. "Don't cry."

"I'm not crying," Kurt snapped. "I'm mad. I am so, so mad. I'm furious!"

Blaine watched him, eyebrows furrowed. He was squeezing the tea towel now.

"Blaine, two disgusting men drugged you and took advantage of you and they were really, really rough with you. You're allowed to get upset, or-or angry. God, look at what they did to you." Kurt shook his head. "We have to go to the cops."

"We can't—"

"Blaine, you were drugged and raped and beaten and—"

"And the same thing happens to sex workers everywhere, every single night, Kurt," Blaine said. "It happens. We know it's a risk before we get into it and there's nothing anyone can do."

Kurt groaned in frustration. "I've seen you almost every day since we started dating. I've never seen you like this. Don't tell me this isn't different. Don't tell me this happens every night. It doesn't and you have to see that. God, how can you be so calm?"

Blaine shrugged, a little bewildered. "It's nothing new."

"Nothing new...? God, how many times has this happened to you?"

Blaine dropped his gaze, ashamed.

Kurt sighed. "Look," he said, calmer now, "I understand that you think you have no right to be hurt by this, or to tell someone and take some kind of legal action, but Blaine, sweetie, this isn't something you have to just brush under the rug. This is serious and I'm going to tell you something that I don't think you know already." He reached out and took Blaine's shaking hands in his own. "You matter, Blaine."

Blaine choked back a sob and shook his head.

"You do," Kurt urged. "You're a human being and you matter. I'm begging you not to brush this aside. Please, Blaine."

Blaine closed his eyes and let out a long, shuddering breath. "I can't," he said. "I'm not saying I won't talk to you about it, but... Kurt, I can't go to the police. I can't. They'll see right through me, they'll know."

Kurt looked frustrated still, but he nodded and lifted Blaine's hands to his lips, then kissed his knuckles. "Alright, no police," he said. "I wish you'd change your mind, but if that's how it has to be, then okay. Fine. But Blaine, I need you not to keep whatever you're feeling bottled up, because that could be dangerous. Promise me you'll tell me what you're feeling."

"I promise." Blaine said, solemnly.

"Alright," Kurt answered. He retrieved the ice pack and pressed the cool material back to Blaine's bruised neck. "I wish I could make it all go away."

Blaine didn't say anything. He felt the warmth of Kurt's kiss on the back of his neck, just under his hair. He closed his eyes and winced as another blob of cream was massaged into the skin covering his ribs.

"Alright?" Kurt asked.

Blaine nodded.

"How about below the waist?" Kurt enquired. "Is there anything that needs to be taken care of?"

Blaine shrugged. "I don't think so," he uttered.

"I can turn away if you want to check."

"I think... I think you've seen everything," Blaine said. "No point in turning away."

Kurt gave him a smile. "Alright, fine, Romeo," he joked. "Pants off."

Blaine stood and shuffled out of his pants, trying not to make any sudden movements that might worsen his injuries. He could feel Kurt's eyes on his body, drinking him in, but it was different. Kurt wasn't looking at him like he wanted to eat him alive. Instead, he was just watching him, eyes filled with awe.

"My face is up here, pervert," Blaine joked.

Kurt looked up, blushing. "I thought I was allowed to enjoy the view now that we've reached that stage in our relationship."

Blaine looked down.

"You're still beating yourself up over that, huh?" Kurt asked, and it was more a statement than a question. "Blaine, we still have plenty more firsts to cross off our list and I told you, last night was perfect."

Blaine sighed quietly. "I just...wanted it to be different."

"Things are seldom the way we imagine them, baby," Kurt said, sofly. "Last night was better than I ever could have imagined. I know you're hurt and I know it was probably mostly uncomfortable for you, but I felt a connection. I was kind of hoping you'd felt it, too."

"I did," Blaine insisted. "I did. You... You're wonderful. You're everything. You're amazing. I just wish..." He shrugged one shoulder. "I just wish I could have been better for you."

Kurt got to his feet and went closer, then wound his arms around Blaine's neck, carefully. "You were perfect," he swore. "I can't imagine having a better first time."

"You mean that?" Blaine asked quietly.

Kurt smiled and pressed a hot kiss to his lips, which were still a little swollen. "I'll never lie to you."

Blaine nodded and accepted a second kiss. "Me neither," he promised.

"Good," Kurt said. "Now let me look at you."

He stood back and studied Blaine's body, eyes searching out any abnormalities or cuts. When he was satisfied that there weren't any, he sat down and patted the seat next to him. Blaine sat down gingerly.

"I want to talk to you about last night."

"Which part?" Blaine asked.

"All of it," Kurt provided. "But first of all, the later part. The part where we made love."

Blaine was a little stunned at that, although he supposed he shouldn't have been. "Made love," he found himself repeating.

Kurt chuckled. "Oh, I'm sorry, is that term not cool enough for you?"

"No, it's... It's just...really...nice, that's all. No one's ever..."

"No one else has made love to you, that's why," Kurt said, rolling his eyes theatrically. "I was lucky enough to be first." He sat up straight. "But all joking aside, we do need to talk about it."

Blaine nodded. "Okay."

"I hope you won't take offence by this," he began. "But if we're going to keep progressing the...intimate side of things, I need to know. For both of us." He paused, studying Blaine's face for a moment. "We used a condom last night. I... I guess what I'm asking is do you use them all the time? With...them? Do you...?" He shook his head. "Sorry, I'm trying to make this easier and I don't know how."

"It's okay," Blaine said. "I always use protection. Always. They're happy about that, too. I mean, no matter what you tell me and no matter how much your words comfort me and make me think I'm not, I'm still, in all senses of the word, a whore. And they look at me like that. So protection is a win-win for all parties."

"Okay," Kurt said. "So, me and you...?"

"I always want to keep you safe," was all Blaine said,

Kurt nodded, knowingly. "McKinley wasn't the greatest school and we didn't have a great health program, but I know that condoms aren't always 100% effective. So what about you? How do we make sure you're always safe?"

Blaine shook his head, feeling stupid. "I should have discussed this with you a long time ago, I'm so sorry," he said. "Um, there's a health centre and they test you for free, so I drop in there every month or so and I get tested and I'm clean. I've always been clean so far. I never want you to have to worry about catching anything from me."

"We're discussing this for both of us, Blaine," Kurt told him. "But I'm glad you're staying safe. I don't know what I'd do if I saw you seriously hurt. Looking at you with a busted lip is tearing my heart out."

Blaine let out a laugh then. "I'm okay," he said. "You're really...something special. You handled everything so professionally and I just... Thank you. For being here and for taking everything so well and just for...for being you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Thankfully, you won't have to find out," Kurt said, with a smirk. "What do you say we watch a movie and relax?"

"Don't you need to get home?"

Kurt shook his head. "I don't start back at work until Monday," he apprised Blaine. "I told you: I am but your humble servant until you start feeling better. So tell me what you need and I will happily get it for you."

Blaine leaned across, despite the sharp pain across his ribs and kissed Kurt's lips. "Just this," he told Kurt. "That's all I'll ever need."

Six days later, Blaine still hadn't returned to work. He was still covered in bruises and cuts, but they'd faded and the pain definitely wasn't as severe, but every time Blaine tried to broach the subject, Kurt would find a reason for him to wait longer. Blaine loved having Kurt around. He loved having someone care about him and want to be near him, but Kurt was at his apartment all the time and while they hadn't done anything sexual since the night they had first had sex, Blaine hadn't gone to sleep or woken up alone once. It was nice. It was more than nice, but it was also slightly suffocating.

Of course, Blaine knew that Kurt meant well and he knew that he was just trying to take care of him and do right by him, but he didn't want for Kurt to put his life on hold to do that. At the moment, Kurt was spending every waking minute worrying about him and checking up on him and Blaine felt guilty. He wanted to talk to him, to set things straight, but he didn't want to hurt Kurt, didn't want him to think that he was ungrateful, because that just wasn't true. Sure, Kurt had taken the liberty of getting an extra key to Blaine's apartment made so that he could come and go as he pleased, but that was bearable. The problem was that Blaine wasn't entirely convinced that Kurt always wanted to be there, because why would he?

It didn't help, either, that Blaine's rent was due and when his landlord arrived to collect it, he couldn't pay him.

"You're already behind, kid," Mr Middleton said, tiredly.

"I know, Mr Middleton," Blaine replied. "It's just that I had a few days off for Thanksgiving and then I had an encounter with a couple of guys who were quick with their fists, so I couldn't go to work after that, either. I've got a boyfriend who's terrified to let me move in case I break a nail or split a hair and while I am completely crazy about him, it's frustrating and he means well, but I don't want to hurt him, so I couldn't go back to work, but—"

"Kid, stop getting crazy," Mr Middleton said, scratching his neck. He sighed and shook his head. "How soon can you have my money?"

"Um," Blaine closed his eyes and opened them again, "tomorrow. I'll get it for you by tomorrow."

"Friday," Mr Middleton said, giving him an extra day. "I can't make it here tomorrow. Wife wants tme"

"Thank you," Blaine said, quietly.

Mr Middleton said goodbye and left. Blaine sighed and fell back on the sofa. He closed his eyes and took comfort in the silence, wanting to just go to sleep and not have to worry about anything. Just as he began to drift off, his phone started buzzing loudly, surprising him. He jumped a little and answered it quickly.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

"I know," Blaine said, relaxing again. "Aren't you at work?"

"Yeah," Kurt replied. "But I got the last batch of files done and I was wondering what you were up to."

"Oh," Blaine said. "I'm just resting."

He heard a shuffling sound. "Oh, good," Kurt said. "So, I was thinking about picking up some dinner after work and heading straight to your place."

Blaine took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Um, I actually wanted to talk to you."

"Oh?" Kurt asked, quietly, demeanour changing.

"Nothing bad," Blaine assured him. "When do you get out for lunch today?"

"12.55," Kurt said, still too quietly.

"I'll meet you and we'll have lunch together—"

"Are you sure you should be going out? I mean, if you do anything too strenuous—"

"Kurt," Blaine said. "I'll meet you at the coffee shop, okay?"

Kurt hummed. "The one we met at," he said, but he already knew the answer.

"Yes," Blaine said anyway.

There was a moment of silence, then, "You're sure you don't just want me to come to you?"

"I'm positive," Blaine said. "Are you okay?"

There was another humming sound.

"Kurt."

"What?"

"Stop worrying, okay?" Blaine said, unable to resist smiling. "Okay?" he repeated when Kurt said nothing in response.

"Mm," Kurt said.

"What is it?"

"I'd rather you stayed home and let me come to you."

Blaine rolled his eyes, but was still smiling. "I'll see you after 1 at the coffee shop, Kurt," he said. "Have a good rest of the morning."

And then he ended the call.

Kurt saw Blaine through the window of the coffee shop. He was in the far right corner, his back to Kurt, so he couldn't gage how he was feeling from the look on his face. Kurt's stomach did a swoop—it usually did when he saw Blaine—but today, it was a worrisome swoop, because he didn't know what was coming and it made him nervous. He scurried inside and made his way down the shop, excusing himself when he almost knocked a cup to the floor. Finally, he slid into the seat facing Blaine, who smiled and pushed a cup across the table and then a brown paper bag.

"Hi," Blaine said, still smiling. "Bagel," he explained.

"Hey," Kurt said quietly. "Thanks." He curled his fingers around the warm sleeve of the cup, if only to gain comfort in the heat.

"You're quiet," Blaine told him.

"You're being mysterious."

Blaine let out a quiet laugh. "No, I'm not," he said. "Why is meeting you for lunch mysterious?"

Kurt didn't answer that.

"You should eat something," Blaine told him.

"I'll eat when my stomach stops feeling sick."

Blaine twisted his face in confusion.

"Just tell me what's going on, Blaine," Kurt said, impatiently, but mostly anxiously.

Blaine studied him for a moment and then reached across the table to cover Kurt's hand with his own. "You mean the world to me," he said. "You know that, don't you?"

Horror passed over Kurt's face. "Oh, my God, you are breaking up with me!"

Blaine's eyes went wide and he chased Kurt's hand with his. "No!" he exclaimed. "No, Kurt, I may be stupid, but I'm not insane." Kurt still didn't look convinced and he was sitting back, out of Blaine's reach. "Can you calm down and come back here?"

Kurt swallowed visibly and slowly, moved himself forward again. Blaine resumed the position of his hand over Kurt's.

"Okay," he said. "You mean the world to me," he said again. "This past week—I don't know what I would have done without you. You're incredible. You've been amazing, so so amazing, Kurt and I've never been more grateful to have anyone or anything in my life, ever."

"Why do I feel like there's a 'but' coming?" Kurt asked, voice strained.

"Well, because there is," Blaine admitted. "But it's not about me questioning us, or wanting more, or-or whatever it is you're thinking it is. It isn't any of that."

Kurt leaned closer. "Then what is it?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

Blaine had gone over this conversation a hundred times in his mind. He'd had the words then, but now, he had no idea how to voice them without sounding ungrateful and rude. He took a deep breath and then said it.

"I need you to stop putting your life on hold for me," he said. "I need you to be able to live your life without always worrying that I'm going to be alone, or that I can't feed myself or go to the bathroom on my own. I need you to go back to sleeping in your own bed—not all the time," he added quickly. "I love having you in my bed, I love having you around, I just... Kurt, I want you to have a life that doesn't revolve around me and that doesn't revolve around worrying about what I'm doing. Do you know what I'm saying?"

Kurt nodded, blue eyes wide and alarming. "Yes," he said, sounding breathless. "I have become the clingy boyfriend."

Blaine couldn't help the splutter of laughter which escaped his throat, despite the fact that Kurt looked entirely serious and horrified.

"No, you haven't," Blaine assured him, still laughing. "I'm not complaining about needing space, Kurt. I just want for us to go back to how we were before the whole..."

"Rape," Kurt said, jaw set. That was another thing, Kurt had taken to reminding him that it had been a rape every time he neglected to refer to it as one. "You know that's what it was, don't you? You were raped and now you want me to go back to not worrying that that's going to happen to you again."

"Kurt—"

Kurt sat back again, taking his hand from beneath Blaine's. "You don't get to push me away because you're afraid, Blaine."

I'm not afraid, he wanted to say, but he couldn't, because that wasn't quite true.

"I just want you to stop worrying," Blaine apprised him. "I just don't want you to think you need to be with me 24/7. And that doesn't mean I don't want you with me, it means—"

"I know what it means," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. He stood up and pulled his coat across his chest. He sighed, leaned down and pressed a small kiss to Blaine's temple and then stood up straight again. "Call me when you feel like you've had enough time away from me."

"Kurt," Blaine said getting to his feet. "Kurt, come on—"

"Just leave it, Blaine."

Kurt moved swiftly through the other tables, Blaine following as quickly as he could, despite the fact that his ribs still ached and his side still felt as if someone was rubbing salt into the wound. Kurt was too fast for him and he couldn't keep up, but he needed to talk to him, needed to make him see what he was getting at.

"Kurt!" Blaine shouted, breathlessly, clutching his side.

He looked up to see Kurt moving faster through the crowded streets and eventually he disappeared from view. Blaine sighed and moved in closer to the wall to catch his breath and when he did, he started the short walk home.

Blaine had just gotten out of the shower, towel around his waist when he heard a tapping sound on the front door. He paused for a moment, wondering who it might be. It was unlikely that it was Kurt, since Kurt was mad and Blaine hadn't heard from him since earlier that day. Mr Middleton had said he wasn't coming back for another couple of days. There really wasn't anyone else it could be.

Blaine tightened the towel and opened the door slowly and only so that he could peek through the crack to see who was there.

"Blaine?"

Blaine blinked and then opened the door the rest of the way. "Kurt," he breathed out, as Kurt came inside. He closed the door. "I wasn't expecting you. Sorry, I'll just..." He gestured down at his body and when Kurt's eyes travelled down his chest, he felt his cheeks burning.

"It's okay," Kurt said, then he blushed, too. "I mean—what I meant to say was that I'm only going to stay for a minute or two. Then you can get back to whatever..."

Blaine nodded slowly. "You can stay as long as you need."

Kurt looked around quickly. "Can we talk?"

"Yeah, sit down, I'll just get some clothes."

Kurt nodded and went to sit on the sofa while Blaine went to change. He came back a moment later, dressed, hands above his head as he ran a towel through his wet curls. "Did you want something?" Blaine asked and when Kurt looked a little taken aback, he added, "I didn't mean... I just meant, you know, coffee, water, something to eat?"

"Oh!" Kurt said, realising. "No, no. I'm fine, I just wanted to talk."

Blaine nodded and sat down next to him on the sofa. "Okay," he said. "I'm all ears." He gave him a wobbly smile, which Kurt returned.

"You were right," Kurt told him.

"I was? What about?"

"Me being a little crazy."

"I never said—"

"You didn't have to say it," Kurt told him. "Blaine, I got a freaking key made without asking. We've only been dating for a few months. I practically moved myself in. That's crazy."

Blaine shook his head. "It's not crazy. I've got your key."

"I gave it to you."

"And if I'd had a spare key, I'd have given you one. Keep the key. I just...want you to live your own life without being constantly worried that I'm not doing okay. You haven't been in your own bed in, like, a week. Rachel's probably forgotten what you look like."

Kurt's expression shifted. "I don't care what Rachel thinks, Blaine—"

"That's another thing," Blaine said. "Rachel is your best friend. So she's having trouble accepting the fact that your boyfriend sells his body, can we really look down on her for that?"

"She's said some horrible, horrible things."

"And I'm sure I've heard far worse."

"Well, I haven't and I don't want to talk to her when she's being like this." Kurt folded his arms and tightened his lips into a line.

Blaine smiled. "Okay, so Rachel is your own business, but you are allowed to go out with friends or spend a night at home by yourself. You don't need to be here running around after me all the time and that doesn't mean I don't want you here. It just is what it is. I love when you're here, but I can't shake the feeling that you'd rather be somewhere else."

Kurt was shaking his head, eyes wide. "There isn't anywhere else I'd rather be."

"Okay," Blaine said. "But do you see what I'm getting at?"

Kurt nodded. "Yes," he replied. "I'm sorry I snapped or panicked, or both. It just felt...too much like a break up and I'm not ready for that. I'm never going to be ready for that."

"Me neither," Blaine said. "So are we okay?"

Kurt smiled. "We're better than okay," he said.

Blaine grinned and leaned forward before pressing his lips to Kurt's. On instinct, Kurt's arms lifted and wound themselves around Blaine's neck, while Blaine's arms circled Kurt's waist. The kiss deepened and Kurt's fingers were clutching onto the collar of Blaine's shirt and he was murmuring quietly against his lips. Blaine felt himself being eased back against the cushions and then Kurt pulled back and laughed quietly, nervously.

"Once I kiss you I can't seem to stop," he said, straightening his jacket, cheeks flushed red.

"Then don't," Blaine said, sitting up.

Kurt only chuckled in response.

"Kurt," Blaine said, meaningfully. "Then don't."

Kurt was looking at him lips parted, eyes wide and searching. "I...um," he stammered and coughed.

"You what?" Blaine enquired. "Tell me why you're afraid to touch me."

Kurt sighed and looked down at his knees, shoulders slumping. "I'm not afraid to touch you." Blaine waited for him to go on and he did. "It's just that I don't want you to think that sex is going to be the biggest part of this relationship. I know you were worried about that and that you weren't exactly thrilled about how our first time went, so I wanted you to know that sex doesn't matter to me. If we only had sex every, I don't know, six months, it wouldn't matter to me, because the fact that I get to be with you is enough. I'm not afraid to touch you."

Blaine smiled. "I already know that," he said, "but if you want to...we can."

Kurt looked up and met Blaine's eyes. "Do you? Want to?"

Blaine nodded. "I'm still nervous, but we can work around that, right? And I don't want it to dominate our relationship, but I want us to have what every couple has—intimacy. It's not the same, with you. When I'm with them, it's...meaningless, cold and...terrifying, most of the time, but with you it's not like that and I should have known that. I have no reason to be afraid of what being together like that could do to us. I'm not afraid and...I hope you aren't either."

Kurt smiled then. "Of course I'm not afraid." He reached out and took Blaine's hand. "So did you want to...now?"

Blaine let out a short laugh. "We don't have to if you don't want—"

"And if I do want?"

Blaine swallowed. "Then maybe we should pull out the bed."

Kurt gasped and his eyes closed. Blaine only chuckled and gave him a peck on the lips.

"It's nice not being the one coming undone for a change," he said.

"Coming undone?" Kurt breathed out. "It feels more like I'm going to explode. God, do that again."

Blaine laughed and bent to lick over Kurt's left nipple, slowly, carefully and then quickly and Kurt's back arched as he groaned again.

"Hey," Blaine said, sliding up Kurt's body again. "Can I try something?"

Kurt's eyes were wide, pupils blown out, blue more intense than ever. "You could literally do anything to me right now and I would not complain."

Blaine nodded and looked down Kurt's chest. The skin was pale and smooth and flawless.

"You're breathtaking," he said, without thinking.

"Actually, I'm the one struggling to breathe right now, if you hadn't noticed," Kurt said. "But thank you for the compliment."

Blaine reached for the button on Kurt's pants. "Okay if I take these off?"

Kurt pushed himself up on his elbows and looked down at Blaine, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"Can you shed some layers, too?" he asked.

Blaine grinned. "You heard me say you're breathtaking, right? You have nothing to feel insecure about. You're incredible."

Kurt shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "Even still, can you?"

Blaine nodded and pushed himself off the bed. He quickly stripped down to his underwear and resumed his position between Kurt's knees. "Satisfied?" he asked, looking up at his boyfriend.

Kurt let out a small squeak.

"You're shaking," Blaine commented.

"Thank you for stating the obvious," Kurt said, attempting to joke around.

"No, I just meant, were you this nervous last time?"

"I don't know," Kurt admitted. "I kind of felt possessed last time. Looking back at it, I'm amazed I was able to even look at you without giggling like a little girl."

Blaine gave him a soft smile. "Relax," he said. "It's just me."

Kurt let out a breathless laugh, but didn't comment on it. Instead, he said, "Can we keep going?"

Blaine beamed and reached for his jacket, where the condoms were in his pocket. "Absolutely."

Kurt covered his face with a pillow and cried out. It sounded more like a cry of pain, but Blaine only chuckled where he had Kurt's cock in his mouth.

"God, Blaine," Kurt mumbled.

Blaine pulled his head back and looked up at him. "Doing okay?"

Kurt used the pillow to swat at him, where he was grinning smugly between his legs. Blaine laughed out loud.

"You are so easy to get worked up," Blaine said.

"No, you just have some major tongue skills."

"Years of practice," Blaine said, licking a long stripe up the underside of Kurt's cock. "I really am enjoying this though."

"Ew," Kurt commented.

"There is nothing 'ew' about you."

Blaine sunk his mouth down over Kurt's cock again and Kurt moaned and then covered his face again because he was embarrassed that he'd made such a horrible sound. Blaine didn't stop to comment this time, which for which Kurt was grateful, but he did chuckle silently around him, which made Kurt cry out again. Blaine ran his tongue through the slit, slowly and then used his hand to hold the base as he sucked, mouth moving quickly, rapidly.

"Blaine, I'm not gonna..."

Blaine pulled back to speak, hand still wrapped around Kurt's cock. "That's kind of the point, you know. I'm not doing this because I don't want you to come."

Kurt's cheeks flushed a shade darker where he was peeping out from behind the pillow. "I thought we were going to, you know, um, have-have sex."

"We're having sex right now, Kurt," Blaine informed him. "Sex isn't always just penetration."

Kurt threw his head back again and covered his face. "Stop laughing at me."

Blaine smiled. "You're so cute," he told him, licking along the vein on the underside of Kurt's cock again

"I don't know how you learned to be so comfortable with doing...this," Kurt said. "How can you just...?"

Blaine laughed quietly. "Oh, it's not much of a chore," he joked. "Come on, you're gorgeous. This is a novelty for me. Usually it's old men with their jeans around their ankles in a filthy bathroom cubicle or a dirty lane."

Kurt looked down at him, eyes sad. "Blaine—"

"Not now, okay?" Blaine asked. "Can we keep all of that out of the bedroom? I want it to just be us when we're like this. Just me and you."

"Of course," Kurt said. "Come up here."

Blaine looked down at Kurt's erection and then back up at Kurt. "But—"

"Come on, Blaine," Kurt urged.

"I thought you were enjoying it," Blaine said, eyes wide and confused.

"I was, but I'd enjoy it more if you were up here. With me."

Blaine took a final glance down at Kurt's crotch, then shrugged and climbed up his body. Kurt smiled and kissed the side of Blaine's mouth.

"Are you sure you don't want me to finish—"

"Blaine," Kurt said, slipping his arms around Blaine's waist. He could feel Blaine's chest rising and falling in an uneven pattern against his own. He looked conflicted.

"Kurt, let me just finish the job. I can—"

"Blaine," Kurt said again. "You are incredibly, um, sexy," he told him, trying to ignore the fast growing heat in his cheeks and up the back of his neck. "And your mouth..." He trailed off, laughing nervously. "But that's not what I want. I want more than that."

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows. "More?" he repeated, eyes dropping. His face had fallen, eyes filled with worry. "Do you want me to—"

Kurt laughed and lifted a hand to tilt Blaine's chin upwards so that they're eyes were level again. "I meant you, silly," he said.

"Me," Blaine echoed, quietly.

"Just you," Kurt said. "Romance," he explained. "That's what I want to give you. That's what I want for us."

There was relief on Blaine's face. "Me, too," he whispered.

Kurt grinned. "You don't have to worry about 'finishing the job', or anything else. This, when it's me and you, it isn't a job. There isn't any rush."

Blaine nodded slowly. "Okay, but are you sure I can't—"

"Blaine," Kurt said, maneuvering them until Blaine was under him. "I'm fine. In fact, you can even lay back and relax and let me take care of you."

Blaine looked alarmed. "No, you don't have to—"

Kurt pushed him back against the pillows. "Blaine," he said once again. "Let me." He slipped a hand down Blaine's body and wrapped his fingers cautiously around his half hard cock, never breaking eye contact. "Just...let me." Blaine gasped and swallowed visibly. "Okay?" Kurt asked.

Blaine gave a small inclination of his head. "Are you s-sure?"

Kurt gave him a soft smile and kissed him, open mouthed and slow and dirty. It took Blaine's breath away.

"Convinced?" Kurt asked, still smiling.

Blaine nodded. Kurt began to stroke Blaine to full hardness at a deliberate slow pace.

"You can tell me to stop whenever you want, okay?"

"Okay," Blaine managed. "We need—"

"Got it," Kurt said, reaching for the condoms.

"Do you want me to...?"

Kurt shook his head. "This is about you."

He lay back and waited as Kurt slid down his body and parted his knees more gently than anyone ever had, the words echoing in his mind both new and refreshing: This is about you.

Kurt sat up and stretched, back arching like a cat's. His hair was sticking up, tufts pointing every which way and he had a lazy smile on his face. Blaine lay still, one arm behind his head, body still feeling a little boneless and heavy. He watched as Kurt ran a hand through his chestnut coloured hair, nose wrinkling. He turned around then and looked down at Blaine.

"What?" he asked, which made Blaine think he had felt the burn of his gaze.

"Nothing," he said, giving him a strained smile.

Kurt looked sceptical. "Something's wrong."

"No," Blaine insisted. "Nothing's wrong."

"Blaine, I'm not stupid."

Blaine sat up. "I know," he said, softly. He reached out and took Kurt's hand. "I just have something I need to tell you."

Kurt's eyes went wide, mouth forming a straight, rigid line. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he stressed. "I was going to call you, you know, right before you got here?" He made it a question. Kurt nodded. "The thing is, my landlord was here earlier today and I'm kind of behind on the rent." He dropped his gaze. "And then the past week, I haven't been going out, so I didn't have the money to pay him today. He's coming back on Friday to collect it. I told him I'd have it by then."

"Blaine, if you're working up to asking me for a loan, quit worrying. You know I'll help you out—"

"No," Blaine said quickly. "No, I don't want your money, Kurt. But I am going out tonight. And tomorrow night, too."

Kurt narrowed his eyes very slightly. "You-you can't," he said, with a shake of his head. "Blaine, you're still recovering. You're still severely bruised and your neck—"

"Kurt," Blaine said, firmly, taking his boyfriend's hands in his own. "I'm fine. I know you're worried about me and I'm totally grateful that you care and that you've been so amazing, but I am okay. I have to be."

"Blaine," Kurt said, looking saddened. "What if something bad happens? What if you meet someone who hurts you? You're already finding it difficult to move too much. If someone tries to hurt you, you won't even be able to get away. I feel sick just thinking about it."

Kurt looked slightly green.

"Listen to me," Blaine said, sitting up straight. "I can handle myself. I've been taking care of myself for a long time now and I've been hurt far worse than this. I'm going to be okay."

"But what if you aren't?" Kurt asked. "What if you get so severely injured that it's fatal, or-or permanent, or something equally awful?"

Blaine shook his head. "Okay, calm down," he said, softly. "You need to trust me. I am absolutely blown away by you and the way you've been handling everything. I know it's hard, but I need you to keep on handling this for me. I need you to hold on and... Just-just until..." Blaine stopped and shut his eyes for a moment, trying to envision a future in which he didn't do what he did for a living, but he couldn't, didn't know how that would ever come to be. "Just, please, hold on," he begged. He could see the cracks, could see Kurt panicking, breaking. "Please, Kurt. I need you. I don't want to have to let you go because I'm scared you can't handle it. I need you to try and to-to trust me. Trust me."

Kurt's lips parted and he let out a small sobbing sound. "Blaine, I don't ever want you to let me go!" he said, appalled.

"I know," Blaine said. "But when you get like this, I just think things would be better if we weren't together. At least for you. I don't want you to have to sit around worried sick that I won't make it home. And I just...just need you to keep being strong about this."

Kurt stared back at him, eyes shining. Blaine waited, heart in his mouth and he wasn't even really sure why. He needed this, needed Kurt to tell him it was okay. Finally, Kurt swallowed and squeezed Blaine's hand. He nodded, blue eyes wide and sparkling.

"Okay."

The sickly sweet scent of alcohol combined with aftershave and sweat was hot and strong. It was crowded, men of all ages and sizes and social castes everywhere, the lights dim and then too bright and there was a loud, pounding beat, the music fast and a little too techno for Kurt's taste. He grimaced as he walked around a tall man in an expensive suit who was grinning wolfishly at him.

Getting into the club hadn't been difficult at all. Kurt had paid five dollars at the door and the bouncer hadn't even looked at him. It was called Storm and the decor was definitely dreary enough to comply with the name. Kurt found a stool off to the side where he had ample view of Blaine, who was standing by the bar, looking around, surveying the place. He hadn't wanted to follow him, hadn't even planned to, really, but when Blaine had left the apartment and Kurt had stayed behind after having just gotten out of the shower, he had become instantly nervous and anxious and before he knew what he was doing, he was out the door and running down the stairs, still buttoning his shirt. He had managed to maintain a good distance between himself and Blaine and luckily, Blaine hadn't spotted him. Kurt knew Blaine would be angry if he knew he was there, but he needed to be around, needed to be close by so that he knew Blaine wasn't going to walk into anything too dangerous.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

Kurt turned around and saw a guy all dressed in black, holding a circular tray standing there, looking bored.

"Oh. No. Thank you," he replied.

"So, what's your deal? You're just gonna sit here and hope someone offers to buy you one?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Hardly."

"Well, I'm supposed to make sure everyone buys a drink."

"Look, can you just go away and come back later? I'm, um, waiting for someone," he lied. "When my friend gets here, we'll both order."

The guy sighed. "Whatever, dude," he said, before turning around a walking away.

Kurt sighed irritably and turned back to look at Blaine, but he wasn't there any more. He stood up quickly, eyes darting around, trying desperately to find him. He went around a couple of men who shot him angry glares, but he didn't stop to apologise, just kept walking. How could Blaine have disappeared so quickly? He sighed, frustrated, and continued on through the crowd, keeping his eyes peeled. He even considered calling him, but he thought the better of it. If Blaine knew he was there, he probably wouldn't be very happy about it. Kurt had promised he would trust him and that he would be there when he got home. He made his way to the bar and looked around, trying to act casual and collected, but it was difficult. His heart was hammering and he was filled with anxiety,

"Can I get you something, honey?"

Kurt looked up and saw a tall, thin woman with a blonde perm and heavy eye make up looking at him from across the bar. She was watching him, a barely-there eyebrow cocked.

"Oh, um," he stammered. "I'll just have a Shirley Temple. Please." At least with a drink he'd have something to do with his hands.

This time, both of her eyebrows went up and she was looking at him as if she couldn't quite believe it. He gave her a half smile to show that he was serious.

"You sure you're old enough to be here?" she asked. "I'm not carding you, but does mommy know her baby's at a sleazy gay bar this time of night?"

"My mom's dead."

Her expression changed and she mumbled something, before sliding down the bar towards another waiting patron. Kurt shook his head and then stopped, because, there, across the bar, way over the other side of the club, was Blaine. He was smiling confidently, a tall man next to him. The man looked well off. His suit was designer and he was clean shaven and looked terribly executive. He even had a suitcase in his left hand. Kurt couldn't tell from where he was standing, but he might also have been Spanish or Italian or something, because he had dark features and was a little too good looking for Kurt's liking. He was leaning on the bar with his elbow, eyes trained on Blaine.

Kurt felt sick.

"You are sure I cannot get you anything?" the man who had introduced himself as Anthony drawled in his accented English. He couldn't have been any older than thirty and was extremely charming, but Blaine knew not to trust a person on a pretty face and a false charm alone.

"No, thank you," Blaine said, matching Anthony's politeness. "So where are you from?"

"New Jersey."

Blaine smiled. "Okay, but where are you really from?"

Anthony threw his head back and laughed. "You don't believe I am true American?"

"I don't even know what being a true American means, honestly," he said, batting his eyelashes. "Hmm, Spanish?"

"Good eye," Anthony said, grinning and moving in closer. He smelled like soap. "And you? Where do you come from, Blaine?" He pronounced his name as if it were Blenn.

"I prefer to maintain an air of mystery," Blaine replied. "So, what's your story?"

Anthony shrugged a shoulder. "Single male, looking for friendship and maybe more?" He made it a question.

Blaine chuckled. "The ring on your finger says differently. Or are we playing a game?" Anthony watched him, smile still intact. "Maybe you're not Anthony in the light of the day. Maybe Anthony is a single male looking for friendship and maybe more. Maybe Anthony doesn't have a wife waiting at home, cooking a lovely dinner while she waits for her husband to get home from working overtime at the office. Maybe Anthony likes men."

Anthony laughed out loud again. "Maybe," he said. "Or maybe I tell you the truth."

"Ooh, are we playing twenty questions now?"

Anthony grinned. "Okay, we play." He leaned closer. "Blaine is your real name?"

Blaine nodded. "Is Anthony yours?"

This time, Anthony nodded. "Antonio, if we are revealing the truth."

Blaine smiled. "Got a second question, Antonio?"

Antonio looked thoughtful for a moment. "How old are you, Blaine?"

"Eighteen."

"Really?"

"Really," Blaine said. "Your age doesn't concern me. Next question."

"Don't you want to ask some question?"

Blaine shrugged. "Okay," he said. "What's your story?"

"You are really interested in my story?" Antonio looked intrigued.

"I like to know what I'm dealing with," he answered. "Plus, it breaks the monotony."

"Ah, you are usually bored with the men you meet?"

"There's the occasional exception," he said, giving the man a fake, meaningful smile. "Story?" he reminded him.

Antonio nodded and looked behind him, before looking back to Blaine. "We sit?"

Blaine smiled his approval and followed Antonio to a small booth-like seating space. The leather was peeling off of the seats and someone had pulled the stuffing out. Blaine sat down anyway and maintained his smile even when Antonio sat up close to him.

"So, your story," Blaine prompted.

"My story," Antonio repeated with a rough laugh. "I come from Barcelona in Spain."

"How long have you been here?" Blaine enquired.

"Hmm. Five years," he informed him.

"Your English is pretty good," Blaine said sweetly.

"Thank you, I take classes. Two times a week," he explained.

"So, wife?" Blaine asked.

"Fiancée," Antonio apprised him.

Blaine gave him a slow smile. "Congratulations. When's the big day?"

Antonio waved a hand. "July," he said. "I marry an American girl."

"And where is your American fiancée today?" Blaine wondered.

"Veronica is visit with her mother," he replied.

Blaine leaned in closer. "Does Veronica know her tall, dark and handsome fiancé has a tendency to pay large amounts of cash for mind blowing sex with younger men?"

Antonio laughed again. "Large amounts of cash?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked. "How large? This is not sophisticated bar."

"I did say mind blowing," Blaine pointed out. "Besides, are you saying you don't think I'm worth what I charge?"

"Oh, I am very sure you are fantastic at what you do."

"I'm sure you can afford to splash out a little." Blaine sat back and folded his arms. "If not, of course, I can just stroll back on over there. I could have my pick of hot, older men."

A large hand crept up his thigh and squeezed. He fought the urge to shudder.

"Perhaps a taste of what is to come?" he asked, grinning.

Blaine didn't budge. "A taste?" he asked, sounding bored.

Antonio's hand squeezed again and then he was closer—too close—and Blaine could feel his breath hot and stifling on his skin. He smelled like alcohol.

"Perhaps a kiss?" Antonio asked, voice lower, huskier.

Blaine smiled. "You want to test the goods before you buy?" he asked, incredulous.

"Come on, one kiss," Antonio urged.

Blaine sighed dramatically. "Alright, one kiss. Tongue's going to cost you."

Antonio laughed like he thought Blaine was joking and then he moved in and covered Blaine's lips with his own. It was too forceful, too sloppy and messy and Blaine rolled his eyes when the man hummed against his lips, before deepening the kiss, his long fingers sliding up Blaine's side.

The men he dealt with didn't often want to kiss him, at least not on the mouth. It made Blaine uncomfortable. Somehow, even compared with the sex and the nudity, kissing someone who wasn't his boyfriend felt far too intimate and although he knew it was ridiculous when he thought about the things that he did to get by, it felt more like cheating than anything else ever had.

Blaine pulled back and resisted the urge to wipe his mouth. "So, what's the verdict? Do we have a deal or do I need to go talk to someone else? Do I need to remind you that there are lots of willing participants?" he teased, knowing well and good that there was no way in hell Antonio was going to turn him down.

"I believe this," Antonio said. "Many men have been staring at you. In fact, there is guy across there who has been looking for long, long time."

Blaine looked in the direction that Antonio was pointing and his heart stilled in his chest. He sat up straight, squinted and then got to his feet.

"Hey, what is the hurry?" Antonio demanded to know, standing up, too.

"I, um, I'll be right back." He turned to look at the man. "Just...stay right here." He tried his best to compose himself. "I can show you a good time. Stay here?" he corrected.

Antonio looked sceptical, but nodded. Blaine took a step closer.

"Promise?" he asked.

A slow, wolfish smile spread over Antonio's face. "I promise, mi cielo."

Blaine had no idea what that meant, but he gave him a final smile, before swinging around and darting through the crowds towards the opposite side of the bar where a person who looked far too frighteningly like Kurt not be him had turned away so that his back was to Blaine. When he got closer, he saw that it was definitely Kurt and he seemed to be trying to blend in with the crowd. Blaine simply walked right up to him and took him by the arm, before leading him off to one of the darker corners. Kurt was making sounds of protest, but Blaine didn't stop.

"What are you doing here?" Blaine demanded to know once they were away from the hustle and bustle.

"I could ask you the same question," Kurt replied, jaw set.

Blaine looked at him in confusion, eyebrows knitted. "What are you talking about? I'm working."

Kurt folded his arms and gave him a look of disapproval. "I thought you only dealt with the undesirables."

Blaine stared. "What?" he asked, lost.

Kurt groaned in frustration. "It doesn't even matter!" he said. "It's pointless."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said. "But, seriously. What are you doing here? I asked you to trust me with this one thing, Kurt and you said you'd handle it. You promised me you'd handle it."

"I know."

"This is not handling it!" Blaine informed him. "Following me around and watching my every move is not handling it," he went on. "I need to work, Kurt and I can't do that if I know you're here, watching. Don't you think I already feel bad enough? With you here it makes it a hundred times worse."

"I was lurking in the shadows."

"Even he noticed you staring," Blaine told him.

Kurt let out a cruel laugh in reply. "Oh, really? I'm surprised he noticed anything with the way you were draping yourself over him. I guess you didn't notice by yourself because you were too busy sticking your tongue in his mouth."

Blaine's eyes went wide. "What are you—"

"Excuse me," a voice came from behind him.

Blaine turned to see Antonio standing there, looking from Blaine to Kurt and then back again. Blaine sighed.

"Our deal is off?" he asked Blaine.

"Um," Blaine began, but then stopped. He looked at Kurt, who was watching Antonio through narrowed, icy eyes. "I'm kind of in the middle of something. I could be a few minutes, so if you want to go talk to someone else that's okay."

Antonio looked at Kurt and Blaine could see the cogs turning behind his dark eyes. "And you are?" he asked.

Kurt raised a thin eyebrow. "I'm his boyfriend, you sleazeball."

"Kurt!" Blaine hissed.

Antonio didn't seem offended, he simply smiled. "A lucky boy," he told Kurt. "You are whore, too, yes?"

"No," Blaine said, instantly, sounding a little more defensive than had been intended. "Absolutely not."

"No," Kurt said. "But if I was, I wouldn't bother with the likes of you. From afar, that suit is very convincing, but when you get up close," he said, wrinkling his nose, "it's a blatant knock-off. Your hair is obnoxious and we both know that suitcase is either empty, or filled with blank sheets of paper and candy bar wrappers. So, no, I'm not a prostitute, but if I was you'd be of no use to me." He took a step forward and gave Antonio a daggered glare. "And he is not a whore."

Antonio's smile finally fell and he shuffled on his feet. "I will be gone," he said, giving Blaine a nod. He walked away then, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone again.

Blaine sighed. "I can't believe that just happened."

Kurt didn't say anything, he simply turned around and walked towards the exit. Blaine followed behind him. They went outside where it was chilly and vacant.

"Kurt, will you hold on?" Blaine asked.

Kurt stopped and turned around. "What do you want, Blaine?"

Blaine shook his head. "I don't get why you're so mad. You knew I was working."

Kurt looked irritated. "I didn't think you were going to be chatting up hot, Spanish guys!"

"Chatting up?" Blaine asked. "Kurt, this isn't fun for me."

"Oh, it sure looked like you were having fun when you let him touch you while his tongue was in your mouth."

Suddenly, Blaine knew exactly what was going on. "Are you jealous?" he asked, eyes widening.

"No," Kurt said, adamantly. "Why would I be jealous? What is there to be jealous about?"

Blaine smiled and took a step closer. "Did you think I liked letting him kiss me and touch me?" he asked.

"Well, you didn't exactly push him off or look like you were particularly disgusted."

"That's called acting, Kurt," Blaine said. "I can't go out there looking like they make my stomach turn or I'll never get anywhere. Do you understand that?"

"You don't have to flirt like that, or-or look so...enamoured."

Blaine's features softened. "Kurt, I have to be convincing. I hate it. It's exhausting. It's the hardest thing sometimes, but I have to do it. I get why you followed me, but this is part of the reason I never want you to see this part of my life. It's hard to do and it's hard to look at and I don't want it to upset you."

"I am not upset," Kurt said firmly.

"It's okay if you are," Blaine told him. "I don't know what I'd do if I had to look at you throwing yourself at another guy."

Kurt's gaze dropped and his shoulders relaxed. "I knew you had to do this," he said, "but looking at it..."

"I know," Blaine said. "I didn't want for you to ever have to see that. I wish you hadn't followed me."

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Kurt looked up. "I thought maybe if I was there watching out for you I'd notice something you wouldn't. Two heads are better than one and all that. Sorry."

Blaine reached out and took his sweating hand. "I get it," he said. "Promise me you won't do it again?"

Kurt nodded. "I promise," he said. "He really isn't rich though," he went on. "I didn't make that up. He probably wouldn't pay you afterwards."

Blaine cracked a smile then. "Yeah, I guess having your eye for fashion and the latest trends would help on nights like this. I thought maybe if I could get a rich guy I wouldn't have to go out tomorrow night, too."

Kurt tugged on Blaine's hand until they were standing closer to one another. "There's a guy sitting at the bar with a Rolex. He's probably your best bet." He laughed. "It's ridiculous. I'm giving you advice on who to have sex with."

Blaine sighed. "I wish it didn't have to be like this," he said. "Are you okay now?"

Kurt nodded. "I don't like it, but I get it." He smiled. "I especially don't like it when the guys you have to wrap yourself around are complete hotties with accents and...I don't know, tans."

Blaine chuckled."You're everything I'll ever want. No one could come close."

"That's easy for you to say. Your boyfriend isn't going to have sex with a hot, muscled Casanova."

"Trust me, I'm not looking forward to it," he said. "So, what are you gonna do? Go home?"

"Do you mind if I go to your place? I'll feel better if I get to see you tonight."

"Of course not," Blaine told him. "Get a cab and text me when you're there."

"Alright," Kurt said. "Are you sure you can't call it a night and come back out tomorrow?"

"Kurt," Blaine said simply.

"Okay, okay," Kurt said, defeated. "I got it. You've gotta work. You better call me if anything happens. I refuse to leave if you're not going to call me. I can't have another night of panic and worry and of watching you struggle to walk and..." He shook his head. "You had better call me."

"Of course I will," Blaine said. "Get some sleep though. Don't sit up worrying."

"I'll try."

"Good, come here."

Kurt went closer and Blaine pressed their lips together.

"I'm sorry he called you a whore," Kurt whispered, taking Blaine's hand.

"It's not exactly a lie," Blaine said. "But thank you for defending me."

"Always," Kurt swore , then tightened his grip. "I want to just hold on so that nothing bad can ever happen to you."

Blaine smiled and gave Kurt's hand a squeeze. "Repeat after me: Everything will be okay," he told Kurt.

Kurt nodded.

"Say it," Blaine urged. "Like you believe it."

Kurt sighed. "Everything will be okay."

Blaine pulled him into a hug. "And it will be. You'll see."

It was dark and cold and quiet when Blaine twisted his key in the door later that night. The apartment was dark, apart from the splash of light streaming in through the window from the lit up billboard across the street. Blaine locked up behind him and then crept across the floor. He saw the unmoving figure beneath the blankets on his pullout bed and smiled. He knew Kurt wouldn't be asleep yet, but was pretending for his sake.

"I'll be right back," Blaine whispered, before heading into the other room so that he could get to the bathroom to shower.

In the living room, Kurt lay on his side, eyes open wide as he stared out the window at the city lights, at the blues and the pinks and the oranges and yellows, a calmness about him, stark relief soaring through his body. He could hear the fast flow of water in the bathroom. Blaine had moved quickly enough when he had entered the apartment, so Kurt doubted he was injured or hurt. His voice hadn't shaken when he had said he would be right back. Everything seemed...fine.

Blaine dried off and then pulled on some pyjama bottoms. He crept back out to the living room space, where Kurt was still laying unmoving in the bed. Blaine pulled back the covers and climbed in slowly, even though he knew Kurt wasn't sleeping. He lay down and moved up close to Kurt, following the heat of his body and the moment Blaine's arms circled Kurt's waist, Kurt turned and hugged him tight. Blaine breathed in his scent, which was mostly raspberry because he had been in Blaine's bed for so long.

"Okay?" Blaine asked, kissing Kurt's bare shoulder where his shirt had slid away.

"Mm," Kurt murmured. "How about you? Was everything...?"

Blaine pressed another hot kiss to Kurt's skin. "It was okay," he told him. "I'll spare you the details, but it was okay."

He felt Kurt's smile against his neck and he relaxed in Blaine's embrace. He yawned. Blaine smiled.

"Get some sleep," Blaine whispered, lifting his head to press a kiss to the tip of Kurt's nose.

Kurt hummed in response. "I'm glad you came to me."

Blaine wrinkled his nose. "Came to you?"

"Just now," Kurt explained. "I didn't want to push you into touching me if you didn't feel up to, you know, contact."

Blaine nodded and considered it for a second. "I think... I don't think it matters any more. I think I always want you close."

"I'm glad," Kurt told him and then yawned again.

"Hey, Kurt," Blaine said, voice low.

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad you came to me."

He heard Kurt's hum of confusion. "You came to me, silly."

"Not tonight," Blaine said. "I don't mean tonight. I mean into my life. I'm glad you came into my life."

"Oh," Kurt said. "Me, too." He tipped Blaine's chin upwards and kissed him lazily, before pulling him close again. "I wouldn't change it for the world."

For the first time, Blaine believed that was the complete and honest truth.