Blaine reached for Kurt's hand as the plane touched down. He knew that takeoff and landing were the most dangerous times during a flight, and though he wasn't really afraid of flying it did make him a little nervous to feel the plane lurch as it slowed, and shudder as the wheels touched the ground.

Kurt stroked Blaine's knuckles tenderly as he looked out of the window.

“What do you want to see first?” Blaine asked. “Atlanta has an art museum that's supposed to be pretty good. And the aquarium is famous, they have whale sharks. There's always the World of Coca-Cola, too.”

Kurt blinked and looked over to Blaine. “A museum just for Coke? That's...” the corner of Kurt's mouth started to curve into a grin, before he shook his head. “I actually have some plans in mind already. Let's check into the hotel first, then I'm going to take you out to dinner. After that we'll check out open mic night at this jazz club that's supposed to be a big part of the local music scene.” Kurt said.

“That sounds perfect, baby,” Blaine replied, leaning across the armrest to kiss Kurt. He sighed with contentment and pulled back to grin at his boyfriend. “Kurt, we'll have some downtime at the hotel before dinner, right?”

* * * * *

Blaine involuntarily pressed his forehead into the mattress as a shiver ran up his spine. Kurt's fingers dug into his hips as he dove his tongue into Blaine, opening him up.

“Kurt...” Blaine gasped. “...that feels so good. You're incredible.”

Kurt failed to respond as his mouth was otherwise occupied. Instead, he hitched Blaine's hips backward, freeing the tension in Blaine's body and giving Kurt additional leverage to plunge deeper into Blaine.

Blaine rested his head on his arms, gladly helpless in Kurt's hands. He closed his eyes and submitted to the pleasure, letting out small whimpers as Kurt moved inside of him.

After the sensations had gone on long enough to leave Blaine's brain completely melted, Kurt pulled away. “Mmm... more... please...” Blaine begged softly, too blissed out to insist or even to open his eyes.

Blaine heard the click of lubricant being opened, and he smiled. Slick fingers pressed to his entrance, and easily slid into the relaxed hole. Blaine shifted his hips upward to allow Kurt greater access, and to relieve the pressure on his throbbing erection.

After a few minutes, Kurt withdrew his fingers. Blaine whimpered at the loss, but tried to be patient, knowing Kurt wasn't done with him yet.

The sensation of a cold, hard object pressing into him made Blaine open his eyes and lift his head.

Kurt's hand pressed between his shoulder blades. “Shhh, baby, just let me. Shhh, close your eyes,” Kurt cooed.

The object was metal, whatever it was, and it started to warm to match the temperature of Blaine's body as Kurt thrust it in and out of him. Blaine relaxed and submitted to his boyfriend's ministrations as the cold shock ebbed.

When Kurt finally withdrew the object and Blaine heard the tearing of a condom wrapper, he sleepily blinked open his eyes and flipped over to watch. His eyes popped open wide when he saw the object.

A handgun sat on the mattress next to his head, the barrel streaked with lube.

“Kurt, what the hell?” Blaine sputtered. His heart pounded in his chest.

“It's all right, baby, the safety was on,” Kurt said, stroking Blaine's thigh. “I would never take a risk with you. Besides, that was so hot, the way you just took it.” Kurt growled the words through gritted teeth, lust painted across his face. He stroked his cock, staring hungrily at Blaine.

Blaine, seeing the want in Kurt's eyes, lay back and lifted his legs to drape across Kurt's shoulders.

* * * * *

Kurt wrapped his arm around Blaine's waist protectively as they walked into the nightclub, Kurt holding the swinging door out of the way. He pressed a kiss to Blaine's forehead and led him to an empty table close to the stage after signing them both up to perform at the open mic and passing his iPod to the host.

The sound system was playing soft jazz in the background. A waitress appeared and took their drink orders.

Kurt reached across the table and took Blaine's hand. He lifted Blaine's hand to his lips and peppered it with soft kisses, finishing with a kiss to the tip of each finger.

“You're affectionate tonight,” Blaine said, blushing.

“It's because I'm so in love with you. You make me very happy, Blaine,” Kurt cooed. Blaine leaned forward over the table and their lips met again softly.

A spotlight appeared on stage and the surrounding club darkened. The bartender called out Blaine's name, and he stood and walked to the stage. His hazel eyes sparkled as they locked onto Kurt and he began to sing.

“If you were falling, then I would catch you.

You need a light, I'd find a match.

Cause I love the way you say good morning.

And you take me the way I am.”

After he concluded the song, Blaine ignored the dreamy looks from nearly every woman in the audience, striding over to their table and reaching out to caress Kurt's cheek.

“That song says it all for me, beautiful. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I'm always there...” Blaine said.

Kurt cut him off. “It's my turn.” He set down his glass and hopped up on the stage, taking the microphone.

“Oh I, I just died in your arms tonight

It must have been something you said

I just died in your arms tonight”

After finishing the song, Kurt returned to the table and reclaimed his chair.

“That was, um, an interesting choice...” Blaine said.

Kurt giggled and peeked at his boyfriend. “I just couldn't help myself,” he snickered.

Blaine ducked his chin briefly and took Kurt's hand, looking up at his boyfriend through his long lashes. “I'm glad you're having fun tonight. It's been so hard watching you suffer these past weeks. I feel like we've turned a corner, together. I'm really looking forward to our future.”

Kurt's face stiffened and he tugged his hand back slightly, fingers flattening against the table. Their drinks arrived and he took a quick gulp of his cosmo. “Let's just watch the next singer,” Kurt said flatly.

A young woman stepped into the light. She grabbed the microphone and began to sway as the sound system switched to her backing track.

She wore a green velvet jacket with a matching flower on the lapel, an open-necked button-down shirt, large hoop earrings and bangles glinting gold in the stage lights. Her hair was in long dreadlocks, and her light brown skin was smooth and clear.

A hush swept over the crowd as she began to sing a jazz standard. She moved into the heart of the song, belting out the altered lyrics.

“I said she got the kind of lovin',

Kissin' and a-huggin',

Sure is somethin',

Glad that I'm her woman and I know

That she knocks me off my feet,

Have mercy on me.”

“She's amazing,” Blaine whispered. “She's so young, too. So much potential. She can't be more than...” Blaine looked over at Kurt, really seeing the expression in his eyes for the first time that evening.

He knew that there had been something different about Kurt since they had booked the flight to Atlanta. The heaviness, the brooding that had been there was gone. The sex at the hotel that afternoon had been amazing. Blaine had thought that it was because Kurt was finally letting go of NYADA after they had refused to reconsider his application.

He had been wrong. “...she's eighteen. Isn't she, Kurt? Isn't she?” Blaine hissed. “What's her name, Kurt?”

“Josephine Perkins,” Kurt replied, applauding politely as the song ended. “After the show, she eats dinner down the street at the restaurant where her friend works, then walks home. It's kind of a rough neighborhood, it's a surprise nothing has ever happened to her before.”

Blaine excused himself to the men's room and promptly threw up in the toilet.

* * * * *

Kurt and Blaine walked down the sidewalk, holding hands.

“So, is there a plan, or are we winging it?” Blaine said softly.

“Just follow my lead,” Kurt whispered, quickening his pace as Josephine turned a corner.

The followed her into the entryway of a run-down apartment building, catching up with her as she was halfway up the staircase.

“Josephine,” Kurt said in a low tone. “A moment, if I may?”

The woman spun around, eyes darting between the two boys. “Do I know you?” she asked, cautiously.

“My name is Kurt Hummel. You took something that's mine. And I'm going to get it back,” Kurt said evenly.

“I've never even met you,” Josephine said, her voice rising in panic. She backed up the stairs, stumbling and falling, her wide brown eyes still locked on Kurt's. “But, whatever it is, you can have it. It'll be okay!”

Kurt suddenly looked as though he were a million miles away. “Shut up,” he muttered. “Shut up. SHUT UP.” His eyes pressed shut and snapped back open, the distance replaced by rage.

Kurt darted forward and ripped the velvet flower from her jacket, before pulling a very familiar gun from his waistband and firing a single shot into Josephine's left shoulder.

Josephine wailed and clutched her shoulder, blood spilling between her fingers.

“What did I just tell you about shutting up?” Kurt spat out.

“Kurt, someone's going to call the police,” Blaine fretted, placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder.

Josephine lurched to her feet and started to scramble up the stairs, smearing a trail of blood up the banister. Kurt fired a shot into the back of her left knee. She crumpled face-down on the stairs, sobbing hard.

“We have time. This is a bad part of town. The average emergency response time here is eleven minutes,” Kurt replied, tilting his head to the side as he contemplated his victim, who was currently moaning and curling up in a fetal position.

Blaine spun around, raking his fingers through his hair. He started to say something, then bit his tongue and watched as the scene continued to unfold.

“A gun is somewhat impersonal,” Kurt mused, “...but it helps if you do it like this.” Kurt leveled the gun and fired again, causing Josephine's jaw to splatter onto the steps. “It gives you that, connection, you know?” Kurt frowned and flicked a fragment of bone off of his sleeve.

“It's a shame we're going to have to get rid of this right away, otherwise we could have a repeat of this afternoon,” Kurt said, turning to Blaine and pushing his lips into a mock-pout. He snaked a hand down to grope Blaine's crotch, squirming against him.

“Let's focus on the task at hand,” Blaine said, wrapping his hand Kurt's and pointing it and the gun back towards Josephine, who was gurgling softly.

As Blaine's fingertips brushed against the barrel of the gun, he thought back to earlier that day at the hotel, and the touch of the cold steel in a very different place. He looked at Kurt and licked his lips. His cock twitched in his pants.

“What if I tried?” Blaine asked, his voice a hushed whisper.

Kurt's eyes lit up. “Be my guest!” he chirped, dancing around Blaine with a hand trailing his shoulder. He stood behind the shorter boy and wrapped his arms around him, helping Blaine hold the gun steady in shaking hands. “Remember the recoil, baby,” Kurt said.

Blaine pulled the trigger. A shot rang out, striking Josephine in the foot.

“Good for a first try,” Kurt cooed, rubbing Blaine's shoulders. “Do it again, baby. That was so fucking sexy,” he said, gripping Blaine's bicep.

Blaine pressed his eyes shut and tried to tune out the pathetic sounds coming from the being that was currently bleeding out on the staircase before him. Instead, he focused on Kurt's excited hands wrapped around him. His mind flashed back to the way those same hands had wrapped around his ankles earlier that day, as Kurt had fucked him with more enthusiasm than he'd had in weeks.

Josephine appeared to regain a bit of consciousness, and started to wail again.

Blaine kicked Josephine over onto her back, then fired a shot directly into her chest. A fine mist of blood hit Blaine's face and he blinked, then wiped his face slowly.

“What do you think?” Kurt asked.

Blaine grabbed Kurt around the waist and kissed him hungrily, before whispering into his ear. “I think I'm topping tonight.”