Sylvester, the owner, must love it. Blaine, not so much. It's not a secret to as why he comes to Club CO, and that's to see Porcelain. The problem with tonight is, because it was so busy, it's been more like the exact opposite. He's been there for almost four hours and spoke to Porcelain only five times (each convo lasting less than two minutes) and danced twice.

Now Blaine wasn't really a selfish person, honest he wasn't. He never had problems sharing his toys when he was younger. But right now all he wanted to do was push the others away and claim Porcelain as his own. But he couldn't do that, could he? Because Porcelain wasn't his. Not even for the taking.

Finally, when it was getting to that forth hour mark, Blaine made his way to the front of the line and got to dance with Porcelain. He did his best to talk while on the dance floor, though the thought was easier said than done. Do you know how hard it is to have a conversation over Kesha's auto-tuned screams? Pretty hard!

"This place is really hot tonight!" He shouts over the music. "Business must be booming!"

"Nights like these are rare, but welcomed!" Porcelain states. He bits his lip after a moment, his eyes dim. "I'm sorry about this!" He says. "If I had known it would've been this busy, I would've had you go home earlier!"

Blaine can't help but to smile at his sweetness. He had to admit, even though spending four hours at a place you really don't like and only getting to dance with the guy you do only three times sucked – like really sucked – but it was worth it.

"It's nothing! You're worth the wait!"

Porcelain stopped moving for a moment, a large smile broke in across his lips. And even with all the different colored lights going on and off, Blaine could swear he saw him blush.

The rest of their dance was filled with silence, though their bodies did most of the talking for them. Sadly, the song came to an end and not a second later, Porcelain being called away.

"Let's go, Lady!" A small girl with a clipboard said to him, pulling him arm. "Get your butt off the floor and find some more clients!"

"Alright, Becky, I'm going." Porcelain assured her sharply.

"Remember! Time is money!" She told him before scurrying off the floor.

Porcelain turned towards him them, smiling brokenly. "I'm sorry, but I gotta go."

Blaine wanted to say something to him, give him a better offer, but he couldn't. Instead he remained silent and watched Porcelain walk away to find another client. Part of him said it was time to go home. To give up and return next week, but that little voice in the back of his head told him not to. Not yet.

And then the light bulb above his head went off. He liked Porcelain. Like liked him. And he was letting him walk away, just like that. But what could he do? There were tons of other potential clients here . . . what could Blaine offer him that would get him ahead of the rest.

But then he remembered something Porcelain had mentioned once. The dancers were to never deny a clients request unless given permission from Sylvester or if another better offer came along. And Blaine knew a better offer.

Blaine turned on his head, pushing through the crowd to find where Porcelain had headed off too. When he found him, he was almost toe-to-toe with an older man, who practically stared him down as if he was gonna lean over and lick his skin off.

"You got pretty lips, you know that?" Buffalo Bill told Porcelain slowly, looking the younger man up and down. "I bet you're good with those things."

Blaine could practically hear his eyes roll to that line. After that, he knew what he had to do, not only for himself, but for Porcelain. Anyone who would start a conversation with that was definitely worth getting away from. Holding his head high, Blaine marched over.

"Porcelain!" He says, catching their attention.

"Blaine," he leans away from BB.

"I have an offer to make for you." He informs him.

"Beat it, kid. My little sex pistol and I were talkin here." BB says rudely, pulling Porcelain back to him. Porcelain leaned away, though allowed the man to hold on.

"First off, ew. Second, I have an offer to make, so if you would kindly release him."

The man continued to hold onto Porcelain until the younger man finally spoke up.

"Jobs a job, Rick."

Buffalo Bill/Rick/Creeper rolled his eyes as he let Porcelain go. Rubbing his arm where the man had gripped, Porcelain stepped away, moving to stand face to face with Blaine.

"What is it?" He asked.

Blaine gazed, not moving for a moment. Porcelain's face was covered in glitter, which was slowly beginning to drip away due to the sweat. Yet, his sea colored eyes made him look amazing. Reaching into his pocket, Blaine pulled out his wallet, retrieving the money.

"Three hundred, right?" He asked.

"Blaine!" Porcelain stepped back, not expecting this move from a guy like him. "What are you-"

Blaine cut him off, closing the space between them. "Three hundred for a room. Just you and me. Can we do that?"

Porcelain stared flabbergasted, his eyes going back and forth between the money and Blaine's pure browns. For a split second, Blaine wondered if this was a mistake. Maybe Porcelain didn't want that from him? They became somewhat friends after their time together. Maybe Porcelain isn't into fucking friends? Blaine was about to virtually kick himself and tell him to forget it, when Porcelain finally spoke up.

"Sorry, Rick." He told the man behind them. "Looks like I got a better offer. Maybe next time." Looking into his eyes, Porcelain took Blaine's hand. "Come with me." He says, proceeding to take him to the mysterious back room.