Kurt was tired.

Skip that.

Kurt was damned worn out.

The deal at work continued to have its ups and downs, taking its stressful toll on Kurt, and at home… well… at home Kurt really couldn't complain.  Things there had been fantastic.  Having sex with Blaine seemed to have fix whatever it was that had broken, and now Kurt wished he could just stay home all the time.  Blaine was insatiable, and sure, that made Kurt's crotch insanely sore, to the point he winced every time his dick rubbed against the fabric of his underwear, but it was a problem Kurt was happy to have.  It meant Blaine wanted him.  Truly wanted him, and for Kurt, who hadn't been wanted in…., he couldn't even recall, it made his heart flutter and leap.  He'd give Blaine whatever he wanted, be it himself or presents, to keep him that happy.

“You haven't even gone out to smoke today.”  Blaine cheerfully noted as he wiped off the counter, hips moving in time to the music on the radio - a hypnotizing sight for Kurt who was leaning back against the counter waiting for his coffee to brew.

Kurt glanced over to the balcony, considering when he had his last cigarette.  For all intents and purposes he should be quavering with the need for nicotine right then, but he was miraculously alright.  Looking to his hands he noticed they weren't even shaking when he held them still.  Not an ounce of withdrawal.  Maybe his body was so spent with the hormonal surges he had been experiencing to notice he had replaced one vice with another.

“That a problem?”  Kurt finally asked of Blaine, locking his eyes on the ass bouncing around before him tauntingly as Blaine put away clean dishes into the lower cupboards.  Kurt knew quite well it wasn't a problem for Blaine, who had complained since the start about the smoking, but the playful banter came easily now, such that he had to wonder when he had developed a flirtatious side.

“No.”  Blaine crooned, turning around and edging up on his toes to peck Kurt sweetly, “You taste better without it.”

Kurt let out a wavering breath the instant Blaine turned back to the dishes.  He was done for.  Any hope he had of keeping up an emotional wall between himself and Blaine had ran out the door and left him there, open and exposed.  “I want to take you out tonight.”

“Don't you have business to attend to?”  Blaine asked, looking back over his shoulder to Kurt.

“For once.. not tonight… and I mean it too.  I want to take you out.”

Blaine smirked a little, and Kurt had to mirror the expression.  Every time Kurt suggested they go out, Blaine had surprised him.  He had either tackled him against the wall, greeted him in nothing but one of Kurt's ties, or made Kurt follow a trail of candy (which the kittens had knocked around in places) up to the bedroom where Blaine had prepped himself and was just waiting.

“Okay.  I promise I'll be wearing something appropriate and won't attack you.”  Blaine said rather coyly, reaching over to run a hand over Kurt's side.  “At least not right away.”

Kurt had to grit his teeth and will his sore dick down.  God.  Blaine would be the absolute end of him.  If his intention was to wear Kurt's cock right off than he was well on the way to that goal.

“Your books from NYADA should be delivered this morning too.  I'll bring them home with me.  I'm sure you'd like to get a head start on them.”  Kurt noted, deftly changing the subject to try and rid his mind of the images of Blaine in all kinds of positions under him.

“Oh… yeah…”  Blaine responded, blinking a few times such that Kurt had to wonder if he even remembered that he would be starting school again in under a week.  Kurt would miss coming home to homemade lunches, but he was less worried about Blaine running off with how amorous Blaine was towards him and how settled he seemed now.

Plus, Blaine being at school might actually give Kurt's cock a chance to recover.  He'd never had this much sex in the entirety of his life.  Usually he waited until he felt like he was going to burst before buying an hour off whatever willing hole approached him first, but now… well now he was sure the streetwalkers that frequented the streets he went to must assume he was dead or gone.

Kurt took Blaine out to the fanciest Italian restaurant he knew of that night, and beamed when Blaine actually revealed his knowledge of the language by conversing with the waiter regarding the wine selection.  Kurt let him order for both of them, and was delighted by Blaine's choice - almost as good as Blaine's own cooking.

Then he took Blaine to another show - this time an opera, which Blaine admitted he had never been to before and seemed to enjoy, watching and mouthing songs along with the singers on stage, translating the latin for Kurt, who, while he enjoyed the opera, really never knew the whole plot without reading translations later on.  

Blaine, in fact, babbled on incessantly about the opera as Kurt took him out for frozen yogurt afterwards.  He went on and on about everything from the stage lighting to the voices of the actors, and the costumes they wore.  Kurt hung onto every word, not really listening, but instead letting the sweet, soothing tone of Blaine's voice blanket him.  He could listen to Blaine all day long.

They walked after that, strolling through Manhattan, and Kurt took Blaine's hand in his - half protective, half affectionate, and Blaine let his hand be held.  Several feet behind them, Kurt's guards followed, as they had all night long, silent and stoic.  They were there just as much for Kurt's protection as they were to ensure Blaine didn't make a run for it.

“Would you be interested in a hotel tonight?”  Kurt asked as they meandered through Times Square, ignoring the pedallers and watching Blaine in the glow of all the neon lights, looking even more handsome than normal.

“Huh?”  Blaine glanced over, having been paying attention to a juggler a few meters away.  “Well.. yeah, but you don't need to…”

“I want to.”  Kurt insisted, letting out a long sigh as he scanned over Blaine's caramel coated eyes which were accented with the different colors that the screens were playing.  “Something… new.”

“Okay then.  You're the one with the credit cards anyhow.”

Kurt chuckled, and nodded over one of the guards, having him reserve a suite at the Four Seasons while Blaine and Kurt continued their stroll.  For one night, Kurt was able to forget what it was he had gone through, and what he had done to get by.  For one night, he could just be a man in love.

Until he was interrupted anyhow.

“Hummel!”  

Kurt grimaced at the voice, turning along with Blaine towards the heavy looking man with more mustard and ketchup stains on his shirt than actual shirt left.  “Mr. Badry.”

The man snickered, exposing his yellowed teeth and looking from Kurt to Blaine, eyes twinkling dangerously.  This man represented half of the deal Kurt was trying to bridge, and had been especially finicky of late, making new demands and new amendments to the contract.  “I thought your type stuck around Chelsea in the off hours.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes.  Generally his clients respected him enough not to make reference to his sexuality, and certainly not ones that suggested he belong in certain neighborhoods.  Regardless, he needed to keep his cool and maintain his professionalism.  “Not always.  If you'll excuse me -”

Mr. Badry was having none of it though, grabbing Kurt's wrist such that Kurt couldn't turn away when he tried and forced Kurt to look back at him.  “Hey.  No offense man.  Just wondering why you're taking your pet around like that.”

Kurt could feel Blaine tense up through the hand he held with him, even though he was looking at the fat asshole that had interfered with his otherwise pleasant evening.  “My business is my own.”

“Except it ain't.  You forget you work for all the families ‘round here and then some.”

Kurt's jaw ached as he grit down on his teeth, stopping himself from saying something regrettable.  “If you have a point Mr. Badry, please make it.  Otherwise I will be continuing my date.”

At this point, his guards were stepping forward enough to be seen by the man, who released Kurt's arm finally on taking note of them with a snicker.  “Fine.  Date.  Whatever you queers want to call it.  See you later.”

Kurt kept his eyes on the man as he left, eyes digging daggers into his back and then turned to Blaine who looked pale and fearful for the first time in weeks.  “Hey.  It's fine.  It's just my job.”

“Your job sucks.”  Blaine spat and looked up at Kurt.  “Can we go somewhere less open now?”

Kurt, of course, agreed with a nod, walking Blaine back to the limo which drove them the short distance to the hotel where Kurt informed his guards to wait in the lobby and keep watch while he took Blaine upstairs.  It wasn't the penthouse, which was presently booked, but the room was one of the best in Manhattan and he let himself smile as he watched Blaine look around in awe.  

“The bathroom is bigger than any of the classrooms at school….”

Kurt chuckled at that, finally feeling more at ease after the confrontation on the street, and went to the bar to pour himself a shot of whiskey.  “Why don't you check out the shower.  The one at the apartment is nice enough, but this one has multiple shower heads and settings.”

Like a kid in a candy store, Blaine scampered off, and Kurt smiles happily as he watched him depart.  Maybe there was something of him that could be salvaged from his youth after all.  Maybe his soul could be saved, if only within Blaine's heart.