Blaine straightens his tie for the thousandth time tonight, staring at the wooden door in front of him, and takes a deep breath, trying to calm down.

He is in the Pink Windmill now, the one he had seen from the entrance. The girls led him here a few minutes ago, showing him the door to Kurt's room - even though he doesn't understand why someone should have a room in their workplace - and leaving him there alone, to sweat and try to slow his heartbeat.

He really hopes that his face is not as pale as he feels it, and how he's still alive is a mystery to him right now. He almost had a heart attack before, when he saw Kurt falling from the swing  - thanks God one of the dancers had caught him before he could hit the floor. Rachel had told him that passing out was pretty common for Kurt, low pressure or something, but... it wasn't just that that worries him.

This is it. He's about to meet Kurt. The perfect, amazing, celestial creature that made his heart beat like it never did before, that danced with him, that sang for him.

He's not like he's in love or anything, of course; he doesn't even know him, after all. The fact is that Kurt's probably the most handsome man he's ever met, hell, he's the most handsome man he's ever seen, and his body kind of reacted to it before - in every way possible. He wipes off a single drop of sweat that is resting on his forehead and makes a step towards the door.

It's not hard, Blaine, come on. You just have to knock, meet this guy, and sing. Singing is your thing, you know that.

He knocks on the door.

Come on Blaine. You can do this.

Kurt jerks as he hears someone knocking on the door of his room.

It's him.

His career depends on this guy. If he does this right, he won't have to be a prostitute anymore. He won't have to beg, to lie, to spend his nights with men he hates.

He glimpses at the table, where champagne waits to be drunk and refreshments to be eaten. Everything is ready, as every night before this one. He just has to welcome him in, make him drink the champagne, and entertain him, waiting. He has done this so many times now...

He goes towards the door, opening it slowly.

Come on, Kurt. You can do this. 

"Good evening, sir," Kurt smiles, as soon as the man comes in.

Oh, all right. This can be a problem, Blaine thinks, staring with wide eyes at the figure standing in front of him, as Kurt opens his arms to welcome him in.

Kurt is simply distracting - now even more than he was before, under the spotlight. Because that shirt he's wearing shows a big part of his chest and his arms and Blaine just can't tear his eyes away from the snowy skin.

How is he supposed to sing, when his mouth feels drier than the desert? He turns his eyes to look at anything but Kurt, feeling blood run to his cheeks - he needs to calm down.

Kurt is quickly getting angry.

He can see it.

Lust.

It hides in the dark shadow spreading in his honey eyes; it runs on the tongue quickly licking his dry lips, it creeps in the veins of his shaking arms: little signs that Kurt has learnt to notice by now. 

He's about to offer him the champagne, so that he can start and get done with this thing, when the man turns his eyes away and stares at the floor, flushing lightly.

Kurt gives him a confused look, because he looks embarrassed, and in a year that he's been doing this, it never happened. Not even once. How can someone who pays to sleep with other people possibly feel uncomfortable about anything?

Kurt can't help thinking that maybe, just maybe, he feels ashamed. Maybe he's not one of those people who do this every week, maybe it's the first time and he doesn't want to do anything anymore.

As something tightens in his chest, Kurt knows that something inside him has born. It's hope. It's just a little, newborn spark, but it's there.

And Kurt can't allow it.

He can't allow himself to have hope, not anymore.

"Are you ok?"

When Kurt stares at him with wide eyes, whispering an ‘excuse me?' it's not because he didn't understand.

He just can't believe it.

"I was just wondering if you were ok. I saw you falling from that swing and you really scared me. Rachel told me that you have low pressure and a light anaemia, too, but if you're not feeling well I don't think the girls would mind if we postponed our... meeting", Blaine says, getting closer and touching his shoulder. Kurt's heart starts beating faster and faster, and flinches slightly as he feels the man's hand on him.

"I'm- I'm all right, thank you," he stutters, blushing hard.

It's such a simple question, isn't it?

Are you ok?

How long has it been, that someone last asked him? That someone lent him a helping hand in the hell he is living? He knows that his friends love him, but sometimes they just don't seem to care. Of course Dad, Carole and Finn know nothing about this, and can't possibly help him, and he feels so damn alone. It ‘s like the days when he was shoved into lockers or thrown into dumpsters are coming back, in the shadow of his new life, and he can do nothing about it.

There's always a moment, under the spotlight, on the stage, as adoring people cry out his name, when he feels like it's finally his turn to be happy.

But it doesn't last; it never does.

Perhaps he doesn't deserve it - perhaps being miserable is just his destiny.

"Kurt?"

He jerks, as he notices that the man is waving a hand in front of his eyes, a puzzled look on his face. Damn it. He zoned out.

"I'm sorry," he manages to say after a few seconds of panic, "Your beautiful eyes trapped mine for what felt like an instant".

Blaine drops his head and lets out a little giggle. Compliments always make something twitch in his chest, and considering that it just came from this gorgeous man, he can't help feeling extremely flattered.

"Would you like a little supper? Maybe some... champagne?" Kurt asks with a smile, lifting a glass filled up with wine.

Blaine doesn't want to refuse, but his last experience with alcohol hadn't been that nice, and he doesn't want to end up making out with Kurt or throwing up in one of his hats - Mercedes still kind of hates him for what happened last morning.

"I'd rather, um," he tries to say, hesitantly, "get it over and done with".

Kurt slams the glass down onto the table, as he feels that spark of hope painfully dying in his chest. Of course, how could he even think that this guy was better than the others?

"Oh", he exclaims, turning towards him, hoping that his face doesn't show how offended he feels by such a lack of tact, "don't you want to taste it? It's the best wine you could possibly find in whole New York. You're wasting an opportunity".

"It's very kind of you, but I don't really like wine."

Luckily, Kurt had considered this eventuality.

"Some other drink, then?"

"I'm not" he raises his voice, accidentally, before lowering it again, "really thirsty, actually," the man tries to say, looking rather uncomfortable.

Kurt starts to panic. The man has to drink, or he won't-

Suddenly, an idea flashes through his mind.

Even though he's as horrible as the others, this guy seems to be quite concerned for his health. Kurt just has to pretend to faint or feel sick, and everything will be all right.

"Very well then," he affirms, a malicious smile curving his lips, as he goes closer to a bed that Blaine didn't notice before, "Why don't you come down here and... let's get it over and done with."

Blaine watches with fascination as Kurt lies down on the bed, and starts trailing his fingers back down the line of his own hips and legs. He swallows hard, trying to resist to the spell Kurt seems to be casting on him.

Chill down, Blaine. He's just some guy, even though he's gorgeous and stunning and lying on a freaking bed and wants you to join him and God no don't think what you're thinking right now don't you ever dare-

"I prefer to do it standing, actually," he says, quite embarrassed.

What?

Like, seriously?

Is he joking or something?

"Oh," Kurt manages to say, as he stares at him with wide eyes, because this guy is a total freak. He starts standing to reach him, though, because he has to please him so that he will finance the show.

"You don't have to stand, " the man suddenly blocks him, looking concerned, "I mean, it's sometimes that... It's quite long, and I'd like you to be comfortable."

All right. If possible, Kurt is even more confused now. Does this guy want to masturbate in front of him or something?

Oh God no. That would be weird.

But it would mean that he has nothing to do, though. He just has to look at him and make sexy faces, maybe; perhaps this is what the man wants him to do.

Kurt's suddenly satisfied by the turn the night has taken, and his pleased smile can definitely prove it.

"I will be. Please start", he whispers.

Blaine has to shake his head to clear his own - quite dirty now - thoughts, and swallow again, because his mouth feels too dry to even speak.

"I-It's a little-" he starts to sing, softly, looking at Kurt with hope filling his eyes.

He expects him to look at him in awe, clap, sing along with him, or stand up and leave because he doesn't like it at all. What he totally doesn't expect him to do, though, is to spread his legs and bite his lip with a weird look that kind of freaks him out.

"-a little b-bit funny", he goes on, wishing that Kurt stopped this thing he's doing, because he's being really distracting right now, "this f-feeling insi- are you okay?"

"I'm a lot more than okay, gorgeous," Kurt gasps, dropping on the sheets, "talk naughty to me, again-"

"Erm... All right", Blaine says, even though it sounds a question rather than an answer, "I'm not one of tho- seriously, are you sure you're okay? You look like you're si-"

But suddenly Kurt stands and shoves him against the wall, kissing his neck with violence, biting and licking and sucking his skin roughly, fiercely, wildly. Wet lips devouring his flesh, firm and cold fingers running long his skin, the hard wall against his back: everything is so new and unexpected and urgent that his brain can hardly register what is happening. Blaine is petrified as a stranger takes control over his body.

"I'm beyond ok, but you could make me feel so much better, honey," Kurt whispers, hot breath against his sensitive skin, letting his hands wander under Blaine's shirt.

"What are you doing?" Blaine pants, as Kurt starts unbuttoning his shirt with urgency.

"Get it over and done with, just as you wish."

Kurt doesn't know why he's doing this. He doesn't know why he's kissing this man's jaw, licking his neck, biting his ear without him having asked it. He doesn't know what pushed him to pin him against the wall and do thing to him; what he knows is that it felt like the right thing to do. This man went on talking and babbling something and mocking his clearly sexy faces, and he just wanted him to stop, even though he is utterly embarrassed of having to do this.

What Kurt will never admit to himself, though, is that despite the shame and the humiliation he doesn't regret doing this at all.

Blaine can't help gasping loud as Kurt abruptly palms his cock through the fabric of his clothes. His eyes open wide as Kurt starts rubbing slowly, and liquid heat runs through his veins, setting fire to his blood. His body realises what is happening way before his blank mind does, and throws back his head with a loud moan, rocking his hips forward in Kurt's grasp.

"You like this, don't you, baby?" Kurt breathes against his collarbone, unbuttoning his trousers and slipping a hand inside his pants, as he grabs his erection firmly.

"You're such a hot b-big boy!" he gasps out loud, staring at him with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open in surprise.

That's enough to awake Blaine from the haze of pleasure in which he had fallen. Suddenly he pushes Kurt away and steps away from him, buttoning up his trousers again, his hands trembling and his eyes wide with shock.

"What was that?!" he squeaks, staring at him, "Why did you just- do that?!"

Kurt's eyebrows furrow in an offended look, as pain stabs him right in his heart.  What is the problem with this guy?! Why did he even pay if he doesn't want to be touched?

Kurt can't understand this. He shouldn't feel hurt. Angry, perhaps; or frightened that he won't finance the show anymore. But not hurt. He has no interest in this guy, so why does he feel.... Rejected? Thrown away?

"I thought this was what you wanted!" he shouts back, as rage and pain start piercing his heart.

"I-I just wanted to-to sing for you!"

The room falls silent.

Kurt blinks several times, staring blankly at the other man, before acknowledging what he has just heard.

"Sing?" he asks, confusion clearly filling his eyes.

The man smiles, and Kurt feels his heart flutter with amazement. How can a smile be so beautiful?

So this is the moment. It's now or never.

Blaine is still pretty confused about what happened before. He doesn't even know Kurt and he just put a hand down his pants, and even though the thought is quite flattering, because he didn't know he affected people - or, at least, him - this way, it makes him quite uncomfortable, too.

But he will think about it later. Right now he has to sing and prove Kurt that he can do this, he can take part in the production of this show. From this moment could depend his own future, and he has to do this right.

"My gift is my song", he belts out, his bright and confident smile lighting up the whole room, shutting his eyes, "and this one's for you."

When he opens them again, Kurt is staring at him, with his stunning, amazing blue eyes sparkling in surprise.

"I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words..."

Kurt leans towards him, a small smile curving his lips.

"...How wonderful life is now you're in the world."

Kurt is not really sure he's awake right now.

Maybe this is just a sweet, beautiful dream.

He has to be in a new world, some kind of alternative universe, a perfect, safe place where people serenade him instead of abusing of him. This man looks at him with his stunning smile like he actually means the words he's singing, and Kurt can't help smiling back because really, how couldn't he? He feels like there's somebody holding his heart in a tight grip, and it aches, but it's a good feeling, too, and something rolls and twists in his stomach as he realises that he's in love. He knows it, because it's the exact same feeling that caught him every time Finn, his stepbrother, looked at him in the eyes or smiled at him.

He is in love.

"But the sun's been kind while I wrote this song; it's for people like you that keep it turned on."

The man is not the corrupted person he believed he was. He didn't want to do anything with him - just wanted to show Kurt he loves him. Of course before tonight they have never talked to each other, but is it really important? He has seen Mean Girls and The Notebook, and even West Side Story: love at first sight is all about falling in love when you first set eyes on someone. And how could he deny and reject love?

It is perfect and so, so clear. He is in love with a man that loves him back, a man who paid just to show him his love, and will finance the show.

It's too good to be true, Kurt thinks, without tearing his eyes off the man's bright smile.

"Anyway the thing is, what I really mean, is yours are the sweetest eyes that I've ever seen."

But actually, it isn't. This is true, this is real, he realises as he chuckles slightly, flushing for the compliment.

"And you can tell anybody, that this is your song."

Finally he can be happy, finally it's his turn.

Finally he will know what love is.

"It may be quite simple but, now that it's done, I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words,"

As he sings the last part of the song, the man gets closer to him, and with a delicate sweetness he holds his hands, pulling him up. Hearts melt together as they really look for the first time in each other's eyes, staring right into each other's soul; hazel blends with sky blue in an inscrutable, invisible connection, reaching the very depth of their hearts, piercing softly through their bonded souls.

"How wonderful life is, now you're in the world."

Kurt holds his breath, feeling that even the smallest movement could break the perfect stillness of this moment, and make this vision vanish in front of his eyes.

"I can't believe it", he manages to whisper in the end.

The man looks at him, the question lying unspoken in his eyes.

Kurt knows that this is the moment to say it out loud. What's the point of hiding it any longer? I love you. Three little words that start tickling his tongue, pushing against his lips to be freed.

But what if he was wrong? What if this is just an enormous, terrible mistake? Suddenly fear takes hold of his heart, as he bites his lip, insecure.

This man's smile, though. It's so confident and stunning. All Kurt needs is to look at it, to find the courage to let it all out.

"I'm in love", he whispers softly, "I'm in love with the man who will finance the show."

Blaine shakes his head a little, his smile becoming slightly confused. "Finance? I'm not financing the show. I'm writing the music."

Kurt's eyes open wide, as he steps back in shock.

"WHAT?! Are you-"

Words die on Kurt's lips, someone knocks on the door.