It takes Kurt a few sleepy seconds before he realizes just how sinister that could potentially be, said body is most definitely living and breathing, but equally worrying is the reality that he’s obviously fallen asleep with a client, something he almost never does and only with clients whom he trusts implicitly. Even when clients have paid for the entire night Kurt usually stays up while they’re asleep, it’s by far the safest thing to do. Even at this level there’s still the chance of attracting some lunatic who’ll kill him in his sleep and then fuck his corpse.

He rolls over as he frantically racks his brains to try and fathom exactly where he is and who he’s with. He’s halfway through his mental diary, a mixture of new clients and regulars, when he recognizes a familiar comforting scent and relaxes. He’s with Blaine.

Kurt cracks open one eye to see Blaine sitting on his bed munching his way through a bowl of popcorn and flicking randomly through the quiet television. Now he remembers: it’s his night off and he’s stopping over at Blaine’s. Jeremiah has pulled his usual disappearing act for when Kurt’s around and is out with his hippie crowd. The last thing he remembers before falling asleep is lying on the couch going through Blaine’s collection of Friends DVDs listening to Blaine argue the case for why he thinks a young Matthew Perry would make the ideal boyfriend. Kurt’s eyes wander to Blaine’s radio alarm clock and sees that it’s almost 10pm so he’s been asleep for over an hour.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” Blaine says, somewhat exasperated. “Did you know you’re the worlds most restless sleeper? You still kick and you definitely still snore. ”

“I do not snore, Blaine Anderson, I snuffle.” Kurt immediately corrects, going back to an argument they’ve been having for years. Blaine grins.

“Fine then, you were snuffling quite loudly in my ear and your arms are like pythons when you sleep. I was putting you in bed and you clasped on to me like a teddy bear and wouldn’t let me go, don’t you remember?”

“I don’t remember. Did you carry me?” Kurt asks as he sits up, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. His voice is husky from sleep and he can’t help but let out a small yawn.

“Well you fell asleep on the couch in an awkward position and I figured it would be painful by the time you woke up. The bed’s more comfortable.” This is one of the great things about Blaine his kindness. It’s not a front, or a ploy to get something, he just assumes that everyone thinks of others as much as he does. “And your head was resting on my shoulder and honestly it was getting kind of numb.”

Kurt is about to reply, but they both look towards the front room as Kurt’s phone starts to ring; his work ring tone.

“You stay there, I’ll bring it.” Blaine instructs, patting Kurt’s thigh as he jumps out of bed and runs to the front room before Kurt can stop him. Kurt can not explain the absolute madness that seizes him. It is nothing less than sheer panic. No!No!No!No!No!No!NO!

“It’s alright, I’ll get it,” he answers more than a bit hysterically as he follows Blaine at break neck speed, reaching to grab the phone from him and cursing under his breath as Blaine dances about playfully keeping it out of reach.

“Wow Kurt, is it a boyfriend?” Blaine asks with a laugh as Kurt makes a grab for the phone. Blaine tosses it between his hands teasingly and genuinely looks shocked when Kurt grabs his arm and snatches it back roughly.

“Blaine! Just stop it, don’t be an asshole!” He snaps, feeling a little guilty when he sees the hurt on Blaine’s face. “It’s my boss.”

As Kurt’s heart settles he mentally kicks himself. What after all was that? True there was no telling what Sue would say if Blaine decided to answer it before handing it over, but even if she did say something that raised questions Kurt should not be reacting this way. The key is to play it cool, having an all out panic attack was only drawing attention to himself. And what was the emotional freak out all about anyway? Kurt’s hands are actually shaking.

The thing is, he hates lying to Blaine even more than he hates lying to his family. They’d met at such a crucial point in both their lives: eighteen, away from home for the first time that truly counted, and scared shitless about it if they were honest with themselves. Blaine’s been the one person Kurt has told everything to, and seven years later they’re still best friends – that’s not by chance, and Kurt knows he hasn’t really earned it. As his heart gallops in his chest Kurt realizes that his worst fear is that what he does for a living is going to be the final step to losing him.

“Hello?” he answers his phone, turning his back on Blaine but not bothering to leave the room. It would only make Blaine ask more questions than he’s already bound to have and there’s actually a lot Kurt can get away with saying without giving away his true occupation.

“Took you long enough. I was waiting so long I got six new wrinkles I had to cut off my face. Sue Barks. “I have a new client: 55 year old judge, very middle class. In-call, nothing kinky. You interested?”

“Call Jake or Mike, they’re working tonight,” Kurt tells Sue tiredly, rubbing his eyes as his exhaustion washes over him once more. “I told you yesterday that it’s my night off.”

“Did you? The hilarious part of all that is you’re under the impression that I care.”

“Sue I’m not coming in. I know I’m the best you have but even I need a break every now and then,” Kurt answers dryly and there’s a pause on the other end of the line.

“Excuse me, am I detecting exhaustion in your voice Porcelain? Are you tired? Is it that you think this job is hard? I cut off six wrinkles today and cauterized the wound without leaving a single scar.That’s hard!”

Kurt’s eyes widen but he says nothing, caught somewhere between horror and awe.

“Well this is a disaster. I can’t have my prize Cheerio falling asleep at a moments notice. This is preposterous! You’re just going to have to take the night off. I don’t want to hear from you again until you can manage not to bore me to death with your sob stories about needing sleep and food. You’re weak lady, weak!” And with that she hangs up.

In some other world Sue might have apologized for overworking Kurt but in this one she manages to make him feel like a failure even as she grants him exactly what he needs.

Kurt stuffs his phone safely back into the pocket of his skinny jeans and turns back to Blaine who is now leaning against the door frame looking pretty sheepish. He watches him hesitantly, almost like he’s waiting for Kurt to blow up at him again.

“I’m sorry Kurt, I shouldn’t have teased you like that.” The earnest plea on his face makes Kurt feel even worse.

“It’s okay, it was my fault” he admits with a sigh. He touches Blaine’s arm lightly and Blaine takes his arm with an apologetic smile and leads him to the couch as Kurt explains, “I’m just mad at my boss for calling me on my night off.”

“They wanted you to work?”

“Yeah they….one of the other agents has been sacked and Clark’s needs that contract with Yusef Makono completed by midnight New York time.” Kurt winces internally at the lie but Blaine seems to buy it, having no reason to doubt Kurt. Which only makes the lie even worse. “I told them to call one of the interns.”

Blaine nods as Kurt ‘explains’.

“I’m glad you did. You work too hard and always seem to be getting called in without any notice.”

Unfortunately Blaine can’t understand that’s the nature of Kurt’s job, so it’s time for another lie.

“It’s hard to say no to the money when it’s right in front of you.”

“I get that, but Kurt what use is the money going to be if you work yourself into an early grave?” Blaine asks patiently, shifting closer so that he can look Kurt in the eye. “You don’t think I haven’t seen you? You fell asleep on my couch practically mid sentence earlier. Your body clock is all out of whack from working weird hours and you don’t eat properly because your body isn’t hungry. If you don’t be careful you’re going to end up collapsing from exhaustion, or with an eating disorder, or-”

This show of concern warms Kurt inside and out so that all of the tension in his body bleeds away. He really doesn’t want Blaine to worry.

“Blaine. I’m fine really,” Kurt implores, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I can look after myself.”

Blaine doesn’t seem entirely convinced but is apparently willing to let it go. For now at least.

“I know you can,” he admits with a smile. “I just don’t want you to hurt yourself that’s all. And you’ve saved me from like a million of my bad choices so it’s only fair to return the favor.”

“Great, then can we talk about Jeremiah?” Blaine sighs softly and rolls his eyes as Kurt goes on, “The hair Blaine. Between the two of you your babies would be poodles.”

“We’re men. We can’t even have babies, Kurt, and stop trying to distract me. I know how miserable you were when you were temping but now I feel like I’ve got the old Kurt back. I’m glad you’ve found a job you love even if it sounds about as interesting as watching paint dry. I just wish the hours and the distance didn’t make you so hard to track down.” Blaine puffs out a soft sigh and nudges his side. “You’ve got that elusive quality now, and I’ve gotta admit it kind of suits you. I guess what I’m saying is, I’ve really missed you, Kurt.”

Blaine smiles at him, open as any book and Kurt knows it’s not a line, not an attempt at quilting him, just one hundred percent honest emotion and Kurt’s breath catches somewhere in his throat.

You need to know this; that one knowing smile dancing on the curve of Blaine’s lips is the one reason Kurt can’t ever tell him, no matter how understanding Blaine might be. Kurt has never seen Blaine smile like that at anyone else, not his parents, not his sister and certainly not Jeremiah. It’s something Blaine has always reserved for Kurt Hummel whether he realizes it or not.

Kurt knows that even if Blaine accepts the fact that Kurt’s a prostitute with open arms, that Blaine will never look at him quite like that again.

***************************

When Kurt gets a website booking there is often very little he knows about the client. They only tell him as much as they’re willing to fill in online so it’s up to Kurt to do some detective work before the client arrives, using the legendary escort intuition. He’s meeting his latest client in the hotel bar rather than his room and all Kurt has is his room number and his name.

Kurt actually enjoys this part, thinks of it as something of a game. He has not been to this particular hotel before so it’s clearly newly opened. There are hotels that he’s been to so many times that he jokes you can see his ass print in half the mattresses. The interior is trying to be trendy but it’s failing so Kurt turns his nose up at it and deduces that the client is an older gentleman.

It’s his first time with an escort so probably newly retired and feeling a little insecure with a need to boost his ego. He will no doubt want to be the dominant party in bed, which Kurt’s fine with. If he just lies back and lets him pound into him then it’s a bit of a no brainer.

The hotel isn’t quite chic enough for the client to be some rich European, not lavish enough to be an Arab and the d�cor just screams country manor so Kurt pegs the guy as middle class and probably from the east coast.

This is why he’s good at his job.

“Porcelain?” A voice asks off to his side.

Kurt looks up at the sound of his work name (it doesn’t come naturally but he’s trained himself to do so) to see a completely different man than the one he’s concocted in his head standing nervously off to his right. He is young, early thirties at the most, wispy brown hair and a noticeable English accent. He is dressed relatively casual compared to Kurt: a plain white t-shirt with a fitted blazer over it. He eyes Kurt’s made to measure Valentino three piece with something like awe.

“Alex?!” Kurt asks in confusion bordering on disbelief, still not wanting to accept that he’d guessed so far off the mark. Kurt’s mouth goes a little dry because he rarely sees men as young and gorgeous as this let alone gets them as clients.

“Yes, how do you do?”Alex confirms rocking up on his heels. “Shall we then?” he suggests nervously, his hands firmly in his pockets as he hedges towards the elevator as discreetly as possible. Yes, Alex is definitely a client (he looks like he would rather be anywhere else). Kurt thinks a little bit contritely that it is lucky he is good in bed because clearly his intuition is not what he thought it was.

Half an hour later and Kurt’s doubting his skills once again. He is completely naked whereas Alex has his trousers around his knees and that’s as far as he’s gone to undress. He doesn’t seem keen to expose any more flesh either; still looks as if he seriously regrets ever stepping in the door.

He’s sitting on the bed and Kurt’s on his knees in front of him. He’s been giving him head for the past twenty minutes and apart from the fact that he’s hard Alex gives Kurt no indication that he’s enjoying it. He hasn’t made a move to touch Kurt, not even to guide him since what he’s doing clearly isn’t working; Kurt’s best moves can’t elicit even a tiny moan from him. Alex is far too tense and Kurt is starting to get lock jaw, which isn’t good since he’s booked for three hours that night. He peeks up from beneath his eyelashes at him and to his irritation finds that Alex no longer even looking at him but somewhere past him, his face twisted up in embarrassment so intense it’s closer to discomfort.

This is ridiculous Kurt decides. He has to do something.

“Why don’t you lie back?” He instructs gently. “Relax.”

Alex does as he asks but now appears even more skittish. “I’m sorry” the man stammers. “Maybe I should-”

“It’s okay, we have plenty of time. We’ll get there,” Kurt reassures him quickly as he dives back between Alex’s legs, sucking greedily. That’s a bit of a lie; Alex has only booked an hour so unless he gets in the mood soon then a bad blowjob is all he’s going to get. Kurt contemplates the matter with determination because he refuses to leave a client unsatisfied. He’s Sue’s star for a reason.

Clearly Alex does not do this sort of thing often, perhaps he is afraid to take advantage of Kurt, afraid that maybe Kurt doesn’t really like being touched. He wouldn’t be the first guy to come to Kurt unable to shake the feeling they were some sort of monster for taking what Kurt so freely offers. Kurt knows that the best way to fix this is to show them exactly how much he enjoys his body and truly wants to enjoy theirs.

“Why don’t you sit back and watch me?” Kurt suggests as he lets Alex’s cock slip from his mouth. He wriggles backwards on the carpet so that he’s sat with his knees bent and his legs wide open so Alex can see everything. Blaine used to say he was a champion wriggler on account of how fast he can wriggle out of a pair of jeans. Good god, why is he thinking about Blaine now?

Alex is watching him, looking slightly more comfortable now that Kurt isn’t touching him. Kurt can feel his gaze flickering over him. Alex takes a moment to really take him in, eyes going up legs, torso and halting as their gazes reconnect.

Never taking his eyes off the client, Kurt reaches with one hand his bag and pulls out a small vibrator. As he turns the vibrator on he watches Alex intently, his head bowed so he’s looking up at him. He knows exactly how this position makes him look and he feels powerful.

Alex’s eyes drift down to between Kurt’s legs as the unmistakable buzz fills the room, and Kurt groans loudly as he runs the toy over his balls and presses it onto his perineum. He smile’s internally as he watches Alex’s eyes darken with desire, before finally pressing the toy against his hole.

“Oh yeah, fuck me,” he whispers wantonly, closing his eyes. It’s all a simple formula you see, all in knowing how to set the client at ease. There is no better feeling for Kurt than the moment he sees the dark smoke of need cloud another mans eyes. He absolutely loves being wanted in this way.

Which is why what happens next feels something like a slap to the face. He opens his eyes in shock as he hears Alex swear quietly; he’s on his feet, fumbling to fasten his trousers as his hard on disappears. Kurt sits frozen, unable to wrap his mind around what he’s seeing. Only one other time has a client gone soft on him, and in his defense the guy was a sixty two year old alcoholic and most likely straight.

You probably don’t know much about escorting, but you should know that behind being beaten, raped or murdered, this is pretty much the worst possible outcome of an appointment. It’s like ordering the Foie Gras at Balthazar’s and ending up with food poisoning, or ordering Marc Jacobs new line and getting a shipment from Abercrombie instead.

“I’m sorry, this has all been very nice but I…it’s just that… it’s not you, it’s me.” Alex stammers hastily and Kurt wonders if he’s trying to break up with him. It’s silly. Alex remembers paying him, right? He didn’t just get lucky and pick Kurt up at the bar.

Before Kurt can even react Alex is gathering his things and heading to the door, he returns to Kurt almost as an afterthought, holding out his hand to shake his, only to pull back hastily when his fingers brush the vibrator Kurt hasn’t yet dropped. His face flushes a bright red.

“Keep the money,” Alex instructs him, and it’s clear that he can’t escape this room quickly enough. “And feel free to stay and use the room, it’s paid for online. You can’t book rooms by the hour at places like this.”

“On my own?” Kurt asks incredulously, not even expecting an answer. He honestly does not know what to do with this situation.

“Yes, of course if you want,” Alex stammers, becoming increasingly more uncomfortable and more intent on fleeing the room.

“Wait! Just for future reference, is there something in particular I didn’t do?” Kurt’s question falls on deaf ears as Alex is already out the door and probably running down the corridor, and Kurt can hardly chase after him in his current state of undress.

He looks around the room, and laughs in disbelief. He has to blink a little because his eyes suddenly sting, and no he’s not crying. That would be the silliest part of the whole evening. It’s just that this has certainly never happened to him before.

****************************

Something you may not realise about the very best escorting agencies, is that they have actual offices. These offices are staffed with numerous employees besides the whores. Cheerios is no different. The fact that Sue was able to buy a small town house and convert the main floor into office space is indicative of how much money the top escorts make, especially those who set up agencies of their own once they stop working.

Along with her Cheerios Sue has two heavies employed, several drivers, a P.A, a marketing team, and a maid who does all the jobs no one else will do, like clean up in the cam room and come and collect their dirty sheets and take them to the launders.

Kurt is currently sitting in Sue’s conference room. The walls are completely white, very minimalist and the table in the center of the room is stainless steel and tinted glass. The simplicity of it all is ruined by all of Sue’s trophies. You can always tell an escorts value by their collection of trophies, and not the shiny brass kind either. Every escort likes to snag regulars, fabulously rich regulars who shower them with gifts they can show off to the others. These are their trophies.

Expensive jewelry and clothing rather than be worn is being displayed on mannequins in an large trophy case the spans the length of the entire back wall. It’s strange, and Kurt thinks that Sue might actually benefit from wearing some of it but they are her trophies so she can do as she likes with them.

Sue has four meetings set for this particular Wednesday, two for her eight boys and two for her eight girls. Well, seven girls now that Brit is gone. But knowing Sue she’ll have that open space filled in no time. Kurt wonders lazily for a moment if Blaine would be interested in prostitution. Blaine is gorgeous, Kurt has always thought so and others have backed him up on the idea. And on the plus side Kurt would surely get to see him more.

Kurt snickers quietly at the ridiculousness of the idea. Blaine is as likely to embrace prostitution as the pope is. Asinine ideas like that are born of boredom as Kurt sits and waits with Ethan, Jake, and Mike as Sue sits at the head of the table collecting her weekly 40%.

“And finally Ethan, you’ve brought in 1100 this week” Sue says as she counts the $4400 from Kurt. Ethan never makes as much as the other men. He’s relatively inexperienced and Kurt might have very delicate features but Ethan positively looks like a child and it’s an acquired taste. Plus he’s still a student so he needs to fit his appointments around his lectures and studies.

“No it’s just $1000” Ethan responds with his brow furrowed in confusion, and Kurt shares a knowing look with Mike. Calling Sue out on this sort of thing is never a good idea, especially in front of the other boys.

“Infant,” Sue begins, lowering her reading glasses with a patronising smile. “Look at me, with my records, my account book, my laptop, and my legacy of providing the best escort service this city has seen since the days of Patty Lem’Fu. Now look at you with spinach in your teeth. It’s $1100.”

Ethan blushes furiously, covering his mouth as he tries to clean his teeth out. Kurt can’t help but feel sympathy for him, he’s only been working for four months and is a good five years younger than Jake, Mike and himself. Sometimes Kurt feels like Ethan is Sue’s whipping boy.

Ethan pushes his envelope tersely towards Sue with one finger. “I owe you $100.”

“Yes you do,” Sue says seriously as she counts the bills before jotting something down in one of her books. “And another hundred for wearing your hair like that today. I’ll need to pay for therapy.”

Ethan flushes again, shame faced and Jake outright snickers. Kurt glares at Jake and the blond man sneers back at him.

“Now, take a good look at this.” Sue holds up a drawing of a middle aged man, heavily set with a beard and a moustache. “He booked an appointment with one of Figgins’ boys last week, managed to give the kid quite a beating before the heavies turned up.” The illusive Mr. Figgin’s had been Sue’s agent when she was still working and they’re still in contact despite Sue’s taking a lot of his business when she’d set up eleven years ago. They have a bit of a love/hate relationship. Maybe it’s a universal archetype for agents and their whores, or maybe it’s just Sue.

“Looks like a terrorist so he’s probably from Queens,” Sue continues. “And he wears expensive shirts but has tattoos on his upper arms.”

“Typical,” Jake snorts shaking his white blond head. “They get bored and tramp out here thinking they can handle high class escorts.”

“You can’t say that, I’m from Queens!” Mike insists. Kurt doesn’t know Mike very well- just that he’s flexible and ladies love him for his abs- but he can tell he’s genuinely pissed off. “That’s racist.”

“You can’t be raciest against a location,” Jake answers flippantly.

“No but you can be prejudiced,” Kurt puts in dryly as he examines his nails.

“Fine, then I’m prejudiced,” Jake snaps, folding his arms as he goes into one of his legendary pouting fits. Apparently some clients go for that aloof thing he’s got going on.

“Right so we’re all agreed you’re just a jerk!” Mike mutters.

“Not that I don’t get a kick out of pitting a bunch of thirteen-year-old divas against each other but I’m trying to run a business here so shut up!” Sue interjects loudly and the four men jump.

It certainly shuts the four of them up. Sue is an extremely cool customer and very rarely raises her voice, but when she does she can throw a tantrum that’s quite frankly dangerous.

They collectively move back as Sue’s P.A Becky, places a tea tray in the center of the table, but no one other than Sue makes a move to pour anything.

“What? Only me?” She asks as she pours a steaming cup. “Unacceptable. You’re all getting too puffy for my liking and this tea, gentlemen, is a calming mixture of berries, willow root, and ex-lax that does wonders for flushing the body. I will not tolerate slothfulness in my escorts. I will be firing one of you at random by the end of the week so I suggest you step it up.”

Sue’s threats while insane are very serious. Kurt eyes the tea with foreboding but then he remembers Blaine’s words from the night before.

If you don’t be careful you’re going to end up collapsing with exhaustion, or with an eating disorder.

Kurt reaches in his bag and grabs the bagel he’d packed that morning. He’s never done so in the past but that morning he had. Blaine’s concern has stuck with him. He’s right, Kurt hasn’t been taking care of himself like he should.

Eating in front of Sue after that little speech is probably a mistake, Kurt thinks. Sue does indeed glare at him and jot something down in her notebook, but Kurt isn’t too bothered. He must have missed the e-mail about Cheerios moving from the lower east side to Nazi Germany- he was probably wasting his time poking Blaine on Facebook.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, if you’ve got an in-call then make sure you’re using your peephole, and for those who haven’t already I want you each to get video cameras for your front entrances,” Sue instructs. “You need to know who you’re letting into your building. If you get murdered I lose a ton of money and that is just unacceptable. If you’re on an out-call make sure you stand back from the hotel door or better yet meet them in the bar. Most of the top hotels in New York are crawling with escorts so you won’t get any hassle. If you still end up in danger then get the hell out any way you can, forget about the money and forget about calling the agency. Your safety is paramount! I can’t use a dead body boys, it’s illegal and it’s just plain weird.”

Sue may make out sometimes that all she’s bothered about is the money and her reputation but when Kurt hears her talk like this, grave and heated, he realises that she really does care. He thinks it was because she was a prostitute herself so she’s been in their shoes, she understands the thrill as well as the danger. She also understands the painful part. Kurt remembers when he first started and Jason had been evicted after his landlord found out that he was on the game and having clients in his studio. Sue had put him up for nearly three weeks until he could find a new apartment and even let him have some in-calls in her house. Granted Jason to this day insists living with Sue was a nightmare but it had still been a nice gesture.

The meeting comes to a close and Kurt stays behind as the other guys gather their things and leave. Hesitantly he approaches Sue who peers up at him questioningly.

“Sue, have you heard anything about Alex from the other day?”

“As a matter of fact I have,” Sue answers, deceptively chipper. “After your colossal screw up I called and managed to get him to agree to make another appointment. I gave him someone else. He was more specific this time.” Kurt frowns pensively, clutching the straps of his handbag as she talks something hot and uncomfortable twisting in his gut.

“I want to see him again,” he tells her in no uncertain terms. It’s nothing to do with pride (well, maybe a little). He’s a professional and when he does something wrong he aims to put it right just like in any other job. This is what Kurt does and he’s given up a lot to do it, he takes doing it well very seriously.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Sue smiles annoyingly. “He could turn into a nice little earner for the company and I can’t have your ghostly porcelain skin frightening him away again.”

“Who’ve you given him to?”

“Ethan. He wants boy next door. No designer suits, no toys, no styling products or make up which we both know you can’t function without. I don’t think you even own a T-shirt and jeans.” Kurt’s face goes from hesitant to shocked that quick.

He’s competitive. He’s not ashamed to admit it and the fact that Sue would give one of his clients to Ethan of all people irritates him. Ethan with his fresh face and simplicity probably still blows bubbles in his chocolate milk and believes in Santa Claus.

“Ethan? $100 short Ethan?” He snaps, still not quite able to believe it.

“He didn’t want you Lady Face. Get over it”

“And you think he’s going to want Ethan instead?”

“Okay, Porcelain, I know what this is, but maybe you don’t so I’m going to tell you.” Sue rises from her seat with a grim smile in place. “You remind me of a young Sue Sylvester. You want to shine and no amount of opposition is going to stop you, but here’s where we differ. You’re soft.”

Kurt scoffs and looks away from her because that hot uncomfortable feeling is only getting worse and for some reason her usually harmless tirade actually hurts.

“You have emotions and this ridiculous thing called a heart that gets broken and bruised and it would just break and smash all into a hundred little pieces if the world didn’t want you.” Sue hammers mercilessly on. “Well, Sue Sylvester doesn’t care who wants her, doesn’t need the world to love her because the reality is it won’t. In fact the more you want out of life the more it seems to hate you.”

Kurt stares at her, appalled at the picture she paints with her words and fighting back a shiver as the truth of them settles around him. He feels cold and he doesn’t know what to do to get warm again.

“So what am I supposed to do? Stop wanting, just start hating everybody?” Like you do goes unsaid. They regard each other for a few moments in silence and Kurt realizes he is seeing more of who Sue Sylvester really is in these few moments than she’s probably shown anyone in years.

“You care too much kiddo. I’d have thought by now you’d know better. Let someone else have a go. It’s not like you need the work. You’re brilliant at your job but even you aren’t everyone’s cup of tea. One Jake is more than enough for me to handle thank you very much. Now if you don’t mind I’ve got a ton of work to do so get the hell out of my house!”

As if to emphasise her point her cell starts ringing.

“Hello? Yes Mike is free. 6 o’clock at his apartment? Excellent, he looks forward to your company Tina.”

Kurt almost admits defeat as Becky comes over to take away the largely untouched tea tray, and Sue hangs up her phone. But he can’t. He doesn’t know why but he can’t let this go, he has to take one last shot.

“You’re right about one thing. I want to be good at this, the best even; but you’re wrong too. I’m not going to let it break me. Hopes, dreams, recognition, wanting those things isn’t weakness Sue. Hiding is.”

Kurt leaves the conference room as composed as it’s possible to be after such a conversation. He still feels strangely sick inside, he’s still shakier than his liking, he probably just seriously overstepped with Sue and will pay for it later. His only consolation is seeing the relent in her eyes.

******************************

Kurt holds his phone under his ear as he talks to Sue, pulling his ass cheeks apart with one hand while he lubes up with the other.

“Yeah there’s no problem” he tells her as he wipes his hands and refastens his jeans. It’s a lot easier than normal. They’re tight but not obscenely so.

“Okay call me in an hour.”

“Will do.” He hangs up and shoves his phone into his back pocket as he hears the bathroom door unlock. He sticks the money Alex gave him under the mattress and picks up the two beers he’d brought in from the fridge. Kurt prefers wine with his work but Sue made him promise to keep it casual. He heads back to the sitting room.

Alex is currently sitting on the couch, fully clothed again. This isn’t looking good.

Kurt smiles politely as he hands him the bottle which he accepts nervously.

“I realise you were hoping for someone else this time,” he mentions as he sits down next to him. “Ethan’s sick. Tummy bug.”

“No. No I think I’m glad,” Alex says with a shy grin before his eyes suddenly widen. “I didn’t mean that I’m glad he’s ill. I just mean….”

“It’s okay I know what you meant,” Kurt assures him with a slight smile and reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Can I ask why Ethan?”

Alex’s cheeks flush and he clears his throat. “I’ll be frank with you. I’ve never done this sort of thing and I honestly... I feel like shit. I guess I thought I could pretend I wasn’t doing what I was doing but then I got here and you looked so...”

“Cheap?” Kurt asks, an edge he can’t seem to help entering his tone. It shouldn’t really bother him. If he’s looking for self validation he’s in the wrong business. Cheap is the tamest of the nasty insults he’s had tossed his way. Many of his clients insult him as part of the pleasure. Some want a filthy whore, and some like Alex would rather forget that they paid for it.

Alex considers him for a tense moment and says almost to himself, “Exotic. Like a bird of paradise.”

“Really?” Kurt asks, his mouth forming into a O of surprise. He’s never been called a bird before. Something about the strange compliment makes him flush inside with warmth.

“Yes.” Alex grins sheepishly. “Have you ever been to the zoo and seen one of them? They’re so exquisite, but I never did think something like that belonged in a cage. Which is sort of the problem. I was with you, and I wanted you but...”

“I’m a pretty bird in a cage?” Kurt finishes gently. Alex is one of those. He’s not the first client Kurt has ever had that thinks he needs to be rescued and he’ll certainly be far from the last. Usually he finds such presumption condescending and little more than an annoyance but he looks at Alex and feels an unexpected tenderness. The beautiful man beside him is sweet, if misguided.

“It’s stupid I know” Alex laughs derisively at himself. “I mean what sort of pratt asks for an escort and then prattles on about cages? I don’t exactly feel like a saint right now but I want to feel something and if you’re willing I’d like it to be with you... but just you. Does that make sense?”

It does, and it’s nothing Kurt didn’t do before he started escorting so it’s a simple enough request.

“And you’ve got me. Almost completely ungroomed. You’re either fearless or a masochist,” Kurt jokes to hide the fact that he is unexpectedly unsettled. This whole encounter has been unsettling, but this last attempt to do right by Alex is especially so. He’s competitive yes but no matter what he told Sue she’s right, it shouldn’t matter that one man doesn’t want him, and he shouldn’t be willing to go to such lengths to change that.

Porcelain would never be seen in what Kurt is wearing now because Porcelain isn’t the real Kurt, Porcelain is armor. Today Porcelain looks like Kurt the way only his closest friends and family ever see him. No designer suits or sensual silks. He’s wearing worn jeans (that might hug his ass but have a tiny hole on the right knee and a ketchup stain from that ballpark hot dog Blaine insisted he try at that Yankees game sophomore year), a plain blue t-shirt that hugs his chest, and sneakers. These are his clothes. His rainy day when there’s nothing to do but stay in and watch mindless daytime television clothes.

Kurt has stood naked in front of hundreds of men and never in his life has he felt so bare.

“I actually really like it,” Alex tells Kurt, reaching to smooth back that one stubborn lock of hair that always falls across Kurt’s forehead. Kurt trembles and kicks himself internally for the silly response. He’s blushing and it’s far from contrived. What’s the matter with him? They are just clothes. So what if they’re his personal ones? Clothes are clothes and he must keep this professional.

He yelps in surprise as Alex is suddenly on top of him, kissing him roughly all over his mouth before moving on to his neck. He lets loose and almost hysterical giggle when his brain catches up to his senses and he realizes Alex actually took a breath like he was diving into a pull of sharks. Kurt pulls him back up and kisses him vigorously, reclining so that he’s lying down and Alex is completely on top of him.

Everything rushes past him, burning in his blood and fluttering in his stomach until he can’t differentiate between terror and pleasure. He can feel how hard Alex is and he’s rapidly hardening to match him.

He actually whimpers as Alex pushes up his shirt and latches onto his nipples, biting down gently then soothing with his tongue. Kurt’s hands grasp for purchase on the couch, shaking uncharacteristically as Alex continues down his chest and torso, nibbling and kissing with every move.

Kurt’s not thinking clearly, he knows that, neither of them are. This is different and even as he hates it something inside him opens up and drags it all in; needs it more than he needs to take another breath. He thrusts up eagerly as Alex mouths his cock through his jeans and he can practically feel the other man grinning triumphantly.

He sits up as Alex undoes his jeans for him, pushing them down to mid thigh. Kurt is trying to get air, trying to bring his mind back into the moment, but it stays lost in a fog. Instead of focusing on things that matter it focuses on details that have no place in this room at this time.

The rush of coolness as air washes over his lower body, the lone spot of color standing out against the acid wash. That’s a stain. He thinks about that stain. The way Blaine had laughed when Kurt had freaked out about it. The sheepish look on his friends face when Blaine brought them back from the cleaners, fished out of the trash and predictably still ruined. Somehow that time Kurt hadn’t been able to bring himself to throw them away again.

He can only imagine what he must look like. Him, the professional, lying panting on the couch, his legs wide open and naked from the waist down with his cheap t-shirt pushed up to his chest and his eyes refusing to stop blinking. They kiss and they kiss and then they freeze and stare at each other.

They both laugh almost manically, carried away on a swift tide of unbearable need that just comes and comes and won’t stop coming. Alex lubes him up before lying back and pulling Kurt on top of him, grabbing his ass cheeks with both hands to encourage him. He pulls Kurt’s legs around his waist before finally pushing into him. Everything inside Kurt burns and shivers and his senses hone in on that one brilliant bright sensation.

“Jesus you’re so tight,” Alex pants as he immediately begins thrusting relentlessly. The words are muffled in Kurt’s ears, his mind far away dancing in a grey fog of colliding needs and memories. He needs so badly it sucks at his insides. He wants. It all spins and he can’t make sense of it. It’s lost in the scratch of jeans on his hips and fog so much fog.

Jeans scratch soft skin... they’re eager so thirsty for each other... beautiful hands with long fingers made for tinkling away on piano keys stroke...

Kurt’s thoughts scatter, a cry of pleasure is torn from him as Alex continually makes contact with his prostate. He breathes harshly, fighting for air, opening and closing his eyes as he tries again to see what is in front of him and not hazy dreams and smoke.

A flash of white teeth...a glimpse of pink tongue as mouths open on a gasp... the beautiful contrast of black on white as he buries his hands in a sea of black curls.

Kurt comes before Alex does, something an escort is never supposed to do and bites back a groan that might be a name, or a plea, he’s not sure which. He doesn’t have to worry about that this time as Alex comes with a loud cry only seconds after.

Kurt lays there wrecked in a way he hasn’t been in a long time.

“Wow,” Alex laughs as Kurt sits up, feeling well and truly fucked although he’s sure his back will be punishing him later. Alex blushes furiously but still smiles. It appears that the shy, nervous Alex is well indeed back.

“You didn’t mind that did you….” he trails off. Kurt doesn’t immediately answer. He’s shaking and his thoughts are still darting every which way.

“I..I..no. I’m fine. That was great,Alex. Really.” His eyes are too bright he knows but at least the smile doesn’t wobble. It will be true in a minute. He’ll be fine in a minute.

And then that thing that all escorts hate happens.

“You don’t have a boyfriend do you?”

Kurt stares at him aghast and then bursts into laughter, but not the joyful kind.

Alex blushes but seems pretty determined now. “I mean it. You’re really gorgeous, Porcelain. Somebody other than me surely noticed. You don’t have friends outside of this job? Don’t meet anyone in bars or anything like that?”

“Alex I fuck people for a living.” Kurt tries to impress upon him. “In my spare time I like to play scrabble or sleep, or... I don’t know, do something that doesn’t involve fucking. A boyfriend is just pretty useless to me.” They fall silent after that and Kurt becomes keenly aware of his soreness and a deep desire to be left alone.

“You look like him, Ricky I mean.”Alex says after a moment.

“This would be the boyfriend you actually want?” Kurt asks, drawing his knees up to his chest as he tries to get his breathing under control.

“We were together, for nearly a year. But he’s confused about things, not really ready to accept being gay. I knew that, knew he had a girlfriend, but I thought it would be okay... we’ve all got our issues.”

Kurt bites his tongue, something souring inside at Alex’s admission. He’s mad at himself about that because he has no business reacting this way. It comes with the damn business, half his customers probably see a different face when they fuck him, but today it burns and it’s a burn he doesn’t like. He shouldn’t care that he just screwed someone while thinking of someone else, while the guy screwing him thought of yet another someone else. What the hell does it even matter?

“So why are you here with me then?” Good, his voice is level.

“His girlfriends pregnant,” Alex whispers sounding as dazed as Kurt feels.

“Regina, a good friend of mine, she’s pregnant” Kurt informs him because apparently his personal barriers are broken along with his brain. He never talks about his personal life but as Regina Anderson-Bradey pops into his mind he remembers a time when he wore jeans with a ketchup stain and she teased him like a big sister. The words just pour out.

“Yeah?”

“She looks like a Volvo. She’s beautiful.” Kurt hears Alex chuckle behind him.

“You’re beautiful, Porcelain” Alex presses a kiss to Kurt’s shoulder and he feels it burn through his shirt. “So, so beautiful.”

“Kurt,” the word slips out unbidden.

The hands still on Kurt’s shoulders and neither of them speak for several seconds. “Are you Kurt?”

He stares straight ahead, not answering at first. The pieces of his brain are coming together, the fog is clearing and it may be a mistake but there’s no other choice Kurt can make. He needs this one thing. He takes a deep breath, and a chance.

“Yeah, I am.”

TBC