“I'm fed up with life at Dalton – the classes, the Warblers, Wes and his ever present gavel – so after classes, I ditch practice, deciding to go for a drive.  I crank up the music, letting it wash over me as the miles pass by.  The sun is low in the sky when I realize my car is making a weird sound just as I'm passing by Lima.  Lima?  How did I get this far from Westerville?

“It's closing time when I walk into Hummel's Tire and Lube.  The workers all seem to be leaving, waving goodbye and walking out the door as I come in.  They tell me to go on in – that the owner's son is in the back and might be willing to help me out.  The first thing I notice is the strong smell of oil and gasoline.  It's not an offensive smell, just powerful.  The second thing I notice – is you.

“Standing next to a car, in your form fitting coveralls, wiping your hands on rag, you've got a smudge of grease across your cheek.  But what I notice the most, besides your stunning blue eyes, is the way your hair is perfectly styled, even though clearly this is the end of your day.  ‘Hi,' you say.  ‘What can I do for you?'

“What runs through my head is ‘Me. You can do me'.  I can feel the flush on my face so I try to explain the noise in my car and how I have an almost two hour drive to get back to school.  I don't want to break down on the side of the road – because I don't have my phone.  It's back in my dorm room and I'd have no way to call for help.  ‘We can't have that,' you say with a smirk and gesture for me to show me your car.

“After a couple of minutes under the hood, you stand up and lean a hip against my car.  ‘I need twenty minutes to replace a fan belt is all.  Why don't you go wait in the office.  There's a couch and television.  You can even help yourself to something in the mini fridge, if you want,' you offer kindly.  ‘Are you sure?' I ask, complete mesmerized by the depth of color in your eyes.  ‘Yes, Prep School, I'm sure.  I'll come get you when I'm done and then we can discuss payment.'  Your voice drops on that last word and I notice as your eyes drift down to my lips.

“After tossing aside my blazer and loosening my tie, I sprawl across the couch, turning the television on to a baseball game that I have no real interest in.  Next thing I know, you're standing over me, shaking my shoulder. ‘Hey there, sleeping beauty, time to wake up.'  Trying to wipe the sleep from my eyes, I say what I'm thinking instead of keeping it inside my head.  ‘Didn't Sleeping Beauty need a kiss to wake up?'

“Before I can really process anything, your lips are moving against mine as you lean over me, hands braced on either side of my head.  I don't stop myself, I reach out to your hips, pulling you down onto my lap just as your tongue darts out to lick my lower lip.  It's the hottest thing I've ever experienced, kissing an amazingly sexy guy I just met, knowing he's just as attracted to me as I am to him.

“You take your time pulling my shirt from my pants, slowly unbuttoning it, kissing your way down my chest as you reveal the skin underneath.  I'm a hot writhing mess and all I can think about is how much I want this to continue as far as you're willing to take it.  Then reality comes crashing down when you ask, ‘How will you be paying for my services this evening, Prep School?'  I can barely breathe, let alone think, because your tongue is dipping into my belly button and then lower on my belly until you reach my belt.

“I manage to slip a hand into the pocket of my pants where I usually keep my wallet – but it's not there.  No, because I left my wallet, next to my phone, on my dresser at Dalton.  ‘Shit,' I blurt – although it comes out mostly as a moan because your fingers are dipping under my waistband, and over the bulge pressing against my zipper.  ‘I.I.I'm s.sorry.  I don't have my wallet with me,' I stutter.

“You break away from me, sliding to the other side of the couch.  ‘Mmmm, I see,' you say as you unzip the coveralls, pulling your arms free.  You strip off your undershirt, tossing it across the room to the hamper in the corner.  ‘Would you be interested in an alternative form of payment then, Prep School?'  I can barely nod my head, as I press the heel of my hand against my growing erection, trying to relieve some of the pressure. ‘What were you thinking?' I whisper.

“You raise your eyebrow, and smirk.  It's fucking sexy as shit.  ‘I was thinking you could come over here and show me just how appreciative you are that I managed to fix your car.'  So I do just that.

“Next thing I know, you're slowly guiding my head down as I take your cock into my mouth, massaging it with my tongue.  I've never done this before, but from the way you're moaning and muttering, ‘God, yes, baby just like that.  Oh, fuck. Your mouth was made for sucking my cock,' I have an idea … that I'm doing okay.  I use your reactions as my guide.  I tighten my lips and work my way back up, running my tongue over and under the head of your cock, thrilled at the assortment of whimpers and gasps you make.  Then you're gently pressing my head back down and I can tell you're trying so hard not to thrust up into my mouth.

“Another three or four bobs of my head and then you yank my hair. ‘C'mere,' you rasp out and when I straddle your lap, you cup my face and gently pull me in for another kiss.  This one is just as deep, but slower, your tongue wrapping slowly around mine in a heated dance.  Wrapping my arms around your shoulders, I gasp in surprise when I feel you bring your hand around both of our cocks, stroking them firmly.  I've never felt anything this good – your lips against mine, your hand gripping me.

“Please,” Blaine murmurs, still caught up in the fantasy in his mind as Kurt has continued to kiss, lick, nibble and stroke his body towards release.

“Please, what, Blaine?” Kurt moaned, tightening his grip slightly as he stroked faster.  “Is this what you want?  Show me, baby.  Show me what you want.”  Resting on Kurt's shoulder, Blaine's head turned seeking Kurt's lips, which Kurt was only too happy to grant.  As their tongues moved against each other, Kurt felt Blaine's hand join his own interlocking their fingers.  It was only a heartbeat later before Blaine spilled over their hands, wrenching his lips away from Kurt as he keened loudly.  It was the sight and sound of Blaine falling apart that sent Kurt over the same edge moments later.