Chapter 3

John Anderson poured himself another glass of Scotch and stared out of the big window in his office. He'd never forget the first moments he laid eyes on his son. His only son. His first born. His beautiful baby boy. He'd stared down into that tiny cradle… big eyes had stared back at him; tiny baby lips parted about half a centimetre. John wasn't a crier. But he'd cried that day in the hospital. He'd reached out and taken those little wrinkly fingers in his own, they'd tightened around his thumb. Despite only being hours old, Blaine's eyes were alert; they drank in their surroundings. He'd been born with hair, dark curls framed his face. John and Fiona Anderson had seen Blaine as an Angel, sent to them by God.

For those first years he'd been their pride and joy. John had showed him off proudly to his business associates. They'd all agreed, Blaine was going to be a handsome and powerful young man. The perfect specimen to take over Anderson Industries, the biggest manufacturer in the buying and selling of oil.

When Blaine was 4 he started singing. He'd repeat songs he'd heard on the radio. He had a beautiful voice. Fiona had been over the moon. John had been a little more hesitant… He needed his son to be strong enough to deal with the dirty side of buying and selling oil… Singing was not exactly what he had in mind. But he tolerated it. He still loved his son, still showed him around the offices, telling him all this would be his one-day. They took him to Church every Sunday, all the Priests and congregation paid him special attention… This one will go far, they'd say, God smiles fondly upon this one.

Then it came. That fateful day John had received a hurried phone call from Fiona. John would never forget the first moments he laid eyes on his son. John would never forget the first moments he stopped loving his son. He came home that day and the second he laid eyes on him, crying, tearfully explaining that he… liked boys, John broke all attachments he had formed with that little boy. He disowned him. He threw out the photos he had of him in his office, he stopped talking to people about him, and he no longer brought him to Church. People began asking questions. Where's your beautiful little boy? No Blaine today? We miss him! He's sick. John would reply. People took this to mean Blaine was ill, very ill, with something that could even be life threatening. They stopped asking questions. Taking the dullness in John's eyes to mean he was in intense emotional pain. No one wanted to upset him.

Of course had they questioned further. Had they gone round to the Anderson's house to see the little boy in question themselves… they would of found a healthy young teenager, slowly being broken down by Dr. Wilkes. Slowly being taught to hate himself. At first Fiona found it hard. Watching her little boy being upset so much… she cried herself to sleep but John had pushed on. He ignored her tears. Part of him blamed her. Part of him still did. She was the one who'd encouraged his bloody singing. Finally Blaine emerged. A broken shell of the boy he was. A twisted and corrupted young man, more confused about his true identity than ever. For a while things got better… John watched with joy as his son began dating one of his richest associates daughters, Maggie Randall, of Randall Incorporated.

Now as John stared out of his office window, everything was starting to go wrong again. He'd made some calls. Blaine had spent the night at Kurt Hummel's house. John made some more calls. Kurt Hummel, of Hummel Tyre and Car Repair, attends Dalton Academy. Gay. John had gripped the phone with white knuckles. That little prick. This… this Kurt was meddling in everything John had worked so hard for. Tricking his son back into that homosexual bullshit. John couldn't afford to take any chances. He was John Anderson of Anderson Industries God damn it! He would not have his son… fooling around with some out and proud floozy. Kurt had to go.

Someone knocked lightly on his door.

"Come." John said gruffly.

Jake pushed open the door to John Anderson's office and walked in slowly. He wasn't too sure why he was here… all he knew is that he was being paid a lot of money to do whatever the hell John wanted him to do. Jake had college costs to pay, he had rental bills to pay… he had… more unsavoury debts to pay off. He needed this cash. So whatever the fuck John wanted to do for the amount John was offering, he was willing to kill.

"Mr. Anderson." Jake sat down in the leather chair opposite where Anderson was sitting. John Anderson was everything Jake had expected him to be. A strong, gruff looking man, whose face was constantly clouded with anger. He wore a suit. Armani, of course. His watch screamed mid life crisis and was so big it could knock out an elephant. In his right hand he held a glass of Scotch. Jake almost laughed out loud. It was so Mad Men.

"Jake Wallace." John said, looking the boy up and down. He was a handsome man. With light blonde hair, straight white teeth and golden skin. Strong looking too, with broadly built shoulders and thick arms.

John got straight to the point. He wasn't a man who had time to mess about with small chitchat. He set his glass down on the table, folded his hands in his lap and explained to Jake what he wanted him to do. When he was finished, Jake was looking at him with raised eyebrows.

"Let me get this straight… your paying me to seduce and date Kurt Hummel?" Jake could hardly believe his luck. Kurt was gorgeous. He'd seen him around town. Tall… slim… that perfect skin. How many nights had Jake fantasized about that perfect ass? But why? Why on earth was he being paid to date someone? "Why?"

"Because." John said sharply. He didn't have time for questions. "Can you do it?"

Jake leant back. He always thought Kurt had a thing for that Blaine kid… wait. Blaine. Blaine Anderson. John's son… Oh, it was all starting to make sense now. John wanted Jake to keep Kurt away from Blaine. A smile spread across his lips. Jake was a man who knew his own strengths. He knew he was hot. He knew he was good in bed, he knew he was good at getting people into bed. Of course he could fucking do it. It would be a challenge. But Jake liked challenges. He relished in them.

"I can do it." Jake said.

John relaxed somewhat in his chair. "Good. The quicker the better, once you've got that Kurt kid you'll get your money, agreed?"

Jake grinned. This was going to be fun. "Agreed."

…...

"Ouch!" Kurt exclaimed as Rachel pressed the ice pack on the back of his skull. A bump had arisen, purple in colour, and fucking painful.

"Let me get this straight." Rachel said, holding the ice pack there anyway. "He fucks you, runs away during the night, tells you he has feelings for you, then shoves you into the door frame the second that blonde whore showed up?"

Kurt winced. It sounded a lot worse when put like that… "It was… more than just fucking… we… we connected… it was… amazing… and he's just… messed up Rachel, its not his fault."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Bullshit Kurt, total bullshit, he pushed you against that door of his own free will and did not even see if you were okay."

Kurt bit his lip. "Its complicated okay? Blaine's special… He means a lot to me."

Rachel sighed and placed the ice pack on the floor. The swelling was going down. Part of her wanted to tell Finn all about it. He'd kick Blaine's ass for sure. But it was obvious that Kurt really did care for Blaine. Even if he was an ass hole.

"I just don't want you to get hurt…" Rachel said slowly. "He needs to start treating you right Kurt… you deserve it."

Kurt nodded mutely. Rachel was right. How long had Kurt been there for Blaine? How long had he talked to him when he was down… supported him when his father was an ass. Wasn't it about time Kurt received some love in return? Kurt had never been loved by anyone… he was always taking care of other people. For once in his life he just wanted someone to take care of him. To be his shoulder to cry on. Was that too much to ask?

Kurt's phone buzzed in his pocket.

I want to see you.

Lets talk.

I'm sorry.

B.

Rachel read it over Kurt's shoulder. She had a feeling talking was the last thing Blaine wanted to do with Kurt. Rachel couldn't understand Blaine. Was he gay? He certainly acted gay… he'd slept with Kurt. But he had a girlfriend? Kurt said it was all down to his parents, they'd never supported him or talked to him about who he was and Blaine was a total mess as a result. God. Couldn't Kurt of fallen in love with someone a little less… emotionally dependent. Rachel knew Kurt had fallen in love with Blaine. She could see it in his eyes. The way he spoke about him.

"Are you going to go?" She asked, her arms folded. "You know you shouldn't just run to him every time he wants to see you, make the bastard wait."

But Kurt was already texting back.

Where?

K.

"I know…" Kurt said, sighing. "But… I want to see him… maybe he wants to kiss again… maybe his dads said something."

My house.

Parents are out.

This is not a date.

B.

Rachel frowned. "Oh how romantic of him… Jesus Kurt, he sounds like a total dick."

I'm on my way.

K.

"Sorry Rach…" Kurt tried to look apologetic but the truth was he was kind of excited. Blaine wanted to see him. His parents were out. They would be all alone. Maybe Kurt could get him drunk again. God. Kurt just wanted Blaine to touch him again. His body had practically been weeping at the loss of contact of the past couple of days, to the point where he'd literally been hugging everyone.

"Like hell your sorry… Whatever. Just… be careful." Rachel bit her lower lip.

Kurt promised her he'd take care and bolted out the door. Rachel's house was only a five-minute walk from Blaine's house. Well if one could call where Blaine lived a 'house.' The Anderson's certainly had gone all out on their living arrangements… 10 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms, a drawing room… a garden that was the size of the whole of Dalton Academy put together… it wasn't a house it was a freaking castle.

It was as Kurt was walking along the pavement to Blaine's house that the most gorgeous man Kurt had ever seen stepped out in front of him. Easily 6'5 of tanned muscle, he looked like he'd stepped off the pages of a magazine… Kurt opened his mouth.

"Kurt." The Sex God before him said, smiling. "You sing for The Warblers right? I'm a big fan."

Kurt was taken aback. Seriously? The Sex God knew him from the Warblers? God he was hot. What was he saying again?

"Th-thankyou." Kurt stuttered. "Sorry, you are?"

The Sex God extended a large tanned hand. "Jake, Jake Wallace."

"Well… thank you Jake… Its very sweet of you…" Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

"Listen… I'm kind of a musician myself… I'd love to work with you some when… Do you have a number?"

Kurt paused. Was this Sex God really asking for his number? Was he gay? Did Kurt want to give him his number? I mean… he had just slept with Blaine… But Blaine did keep pushing him away. Oh, what the hell. What harm could one coffee do?

"Sure." Kurt said. "Do you have a pen?"

"I'll remember it." Jake said smiling. "How could I forget?"

Okay, well that was pretty cheesy. Kurt raised an eyebrow. After he'd given Jake his number, Jake leaned down and kissed Kurt on the cheek. Kurt was mortified to feel his body light on fire. Damn. This guy really was hot. Maybe this number thing wasn't such a good idea.

Kurt ran through the large iron gates of the Anderson household, through the gravel drive way and knocked on the big wooden door. To his surprise the door just swung open… Blaine had left it on the latch. Looking puzzled Kurt walked into the hall way. Empty. He made his way down towards the kitchen. He could hear sounds coming from inside. Gingerly he pushed the door open.

Blaine was stood with his back to him. The kitchen was in bedlam… flour, icing sugar and eggs coated the worktops and floor. Kurt raised his eyebrows.

"Blaine?"

Blaine swung round smiling. He proudly held out his hand. Laid on Blaine's palm was a half squashed cup cake, messily iced with the word – 'sorry' on the top. Kurt stared at it. He stared at Blaine. He had icing sugar on his nose. And chocolate on his neck. Kurt stepped forward and took the cup cake from Blaine's hands and placed it on the table beside them. He took another step forward and gently licked the icing from the tip of Blaine's nose. He looked at Blaine. Blaine swallowed, but he didn't stop him. Kurt leant down and gently began to lick the chocolate from Blaine's neck. Blaine put his hands back and gripped the counter for support. He clamped his mouth shut to supress a moan. This was not how this meeting had meant to go… In Blaine's head Kurt had eaten the cup cake and they had chatted as friends like they always used to… but… this. Okay. Blaine had to admit he was enjoying this much better. He closed his eyes. In a minute he'd stop Kurt… just a few more seconds…

The camera in the corner of the kitchen, hidden from sight, flashed green… the lens zoomed in. Gotcha.