Kurt clenched and unclenched his toes repeatedly. He glanced at his watch one more time only to find with immense frustration that barely five minutes had passed since he last peeked at it. He was unable to hold on to the sigh that escaped his lips, and was rewarded with a puzzled smile from the stewardess who was walking past him. She stopped in her tracks, took a step backwards, and addressed him.

"Is everything alright, sir?" She asked.

Was everything all right? He asked himself sarcastically. NO! He wanted to scream out loud! He had woken up to find that the man he loved had run off to the other side of the country to help one of his best friends. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't have been a problem, but Kurt had a secret, and a big secret at that. It was a secret that he had been fighting with all by himself for the past couple of months. A secret that had become more complicated and more serious as the weeks had passed. And now, Kurt feared that the people involved had stepped across that hazy line between legal and illegal. Heck, Kurt thought to himself as he rubbed his thighs anxiously, when had any of this been legal?

"I'm fine," Kurt managed to tell the stewardess from his economy class seat. She gave him one last quizzical look and then moved on, thinking it best not to question him again.

In truth though, Kurt was terrified. In fact, he had never been so flustered and out of control in his entire life as he had been since he had opened Blaine's envelope that morning. His initial thoughts had been that Blaine had left to go get them breakfast in bed, or that Blaine had managed to pull one over him and had created another surprise. He hadn't expected, in the least, to find a note that told him he had left.

He gazed at the picture of Blaine and himself on his phone and his chest tightened. His secret was also one that he had not even shared with Blaine, because Blaine was the love of his life and Kurt didn't want him to get caught up in any of this. Kurt sighed, for right at this moment, he feared that that was just the opposite. In his mind's early morning haze, he hadn't thought too much into Blaine's hasty departure to help Sam, but then the realization of just what this might mean started to churn in his stomach. It was what happened next though that had caused him to panic, to become hysterical. After fifteen minutes of lying in bed, trying to process Blaine's note, he had received a text message from an unknown number that simply stated: 'It's started. You know what we want.'

All Kurt had ever wanted to do was to protect Blaine, and now, he believed that he had failed miserably.

Kurt's thoughts drifted back to Sam's text messages that Blaine had described in his note. It couldn't have been just a coincidence that Sam had sent Blaine worrying texts at the same time as when Kurt's business problems were also reaching a boiling point. He had no doubt in his mind that Sam had somehow innocently been dragged into this and was now being used as a pawn to lure Blaine into their clutches. Because they knew, once they got Blaine, they would be able to get anything they wanted from Kurt. Kurt would do anything for Blaine. He would give his life for Blaine. Blaine was everything to him.

Kurt had to get out of his seat. His nervous energy was pumping through his blood so viciously that he was incapable of remaining in his chair. The flight was so far turbulence-free so he unclipped his seatbelt and rose to his feet. He had been forced to use a commercial jet, his private plane being out of service due to general maintenance being carried out on it. He didn't mind taking normal flights, but using an airline meant he was also at the mercy of their unpredictable and changeable timetables. After finally finding a flight with an available seat in economy, Kurt had had to wait an additional two hours before he had been able to get on the plane. But then, to add to his troubles, Mother Nature had also decided to turn on him. Three planes away from takeoff, the airport had decided to close its runways due to a severe weather system that had moved in quickly. Air travel was deemed unsafe for travel due to the excessive lightning and extreme wind.

He'd wasted nearly a whole day just trying to get a damn flight. It wasn't too bad though, he tried to convince himself, he would land at around six o'clock LA time which meant it would still be early enough for him to have plenty of time to look for Blaine. And he had a good idea of just where he should start; Hollywood Boulevard.

Kurt brought his watch to his face again and gave another loud exasperated sigh. Only another five minutes had passed. He had a feeling that this was going to be the longest flight of his entire life.

***

Blaine sat in his hire car staring at the double doors to the back of The Lotus Garden. He was frustrated, angry, and consumed with despair. He had been there for over half an hour, his brain in turmoil, unable to decide on what would be the best possible course of action.

His efforts to gain information on Sam in the past couple of hours and been ineffective. He had managed to find two old friends after exploring Hollywood Boulevard. They had been happy to run into him and Blaine felt a mutual delight in seeing their faces again, but after their conversation had begun, Blaine realized just how far removed he was from it now. In the end, his old friends had been unhelpful, his questions regarding Sam falling on deaf ears even though only moments before they had been laughing and joking about old times.

Disheartened, Blaine had wandered a little further down the street and soon found himself talking to an unfamiliar face, a newbie, and Blaine caught so much of himself in the eyes of that man. He had to ignore the pity and sympathy that washed over him. Fortunately for Blaine though, the guy had given him a contact for an old client. He moved away quickly and called the number he had been given. The client, however, had hung up on him as soon as he had started to ask questions.

The anxiety began to fill more and more of Blaine as he continued on his search. The rest of the evening had progressed in a similar fashion, meeting old faces, chatting and reminiscing about old times, and then cold silence whenever Blaine broached the topic of Sam. In sheer hopelessness, he had returned to his car and had reluctantly found himself driving back to the restaurant. He had really scraped the bottom of the barrel of people that he could ask, and now the only person who seemed that they would be of any use was Tina.

Blaine's eyes flickered up to the rearview mirror and his line of sight fell on the all too familiar dark blue Audi that he had spotted earlier in the evening. He glared at the vehicle with contempt. Blaine had become aware that he was being followed after he had been on the road for about an hour, and he was absolutely certain that everyone's silence was bound to be because of Karofsky's presence. They must have seen him and known they would be in trouble if he caught wind that someone had spoken. The man was so bold and arrogant that he didn't even care that he was being the worst stalker ever, often pulling to a stop only ten meters away from Blaine's car.

The sound of Blaine's phone ringing jolted him out of his reverie. He picked it up and placed it next to his ear.

"I thought I told you to behave yourself." The same cold voice from earlier in the day hissed down the phone and Blaine's breath caught in his throat.

"I, I..."

"Stop talking and listen," the caller rudely interrupted him. "We've been watching you," Blaine swiveled round and stared at Karofsky. He wasn't on his phone, so it wasn't him, "and we've seen that you've been trying to do some investigating. That needs to stop."

"I want to know what's happened to Sam," Blaine argued forcefully. "How do I know if he's even still alive?"

The caller chuckled, "Don't worry; he's alive." The voice paused. "Blaine."

"Yes?"

"Stay away from Mike and Tina. This has nothing to do with them."

Blaine was speechless. What the hell was going on? He thought all of this was because of Tina, even though he really had no clue as to why. But now, he was being told otherwise? There were other people responsible for this mess?

"We will arrange to meet tomorrow. You have something that I need, and once you give it to me, you can have Sam back."

"What!?" Blaine spluttered. "What could I possibly have that you would want?"

"Oh, you know what I want. I want the backups to the project."

"The backups?! To the project?" What was this mad person speaking about? Fear jabbed through his chest. "Listen!" He exclaimed. "I really don't know what you're..."

But the person on the other end interrupted him once more. "We'll meet tomorrow evening in the Skybar at the Mondrain, Sunset Boulevard. "And Blaine, if you don't turn up with what I need, your friend is dead."

Blaine's mouth hung open in shock. "I want proof," Blaine quickly gasped. "I want proof that Sam is alive."

The caller sighed impatiently, there was a slight pause and then Blaine nearly dropped the phone.

"Blaine!" Sam cried into phone.

"Sam!" Blaine shouted back. "Are you all right? Are you okay?"

"Blaine..." there was a pause and Blaine could hear him sob, "you've got to help me. Please, I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it!" Blaine comforted him. "I'll do whatever I need to do."

"They, they said they're going to kill me." Sam's voice wavered and Blaine just wanted to reach his hand down his phone and pull Sam back through and into safety. "Blaine, please don't let them kill me."

"Don't worry, I..." Blaine was cut off.

"You have you're proof," the caller spat. "The Skybar, at the Mondrain, 8.00 p.m. tomorrow night, and bring the backups. Before Blaine's brain could put any kind of rebuttal together, the line was cut and he was listening to silence.

Confused and terrified, Blaine lowered his phone and rested it on his thigh. He sat dumbfounded, completely lost, a cold fear sinking into him as he contemplated the kind of people he was really dealing with. His mind raced with the last bit of information he had just received. What the hell were the 'backups to the project?' Whoever had Sam was not involved with Tina and Mike? Why would the caller want him to stay away from them?

Blaine stared at his phone, the picture of him and Kurt staring back up at him. Kurt was leaning into him, his arm raised to his shoulder while his other arm, unseen in the photo, was protectively holding him around his back. Blaine was aware of all of his missed calls. He knew that Kurt was worried about him but could he really turn to Kurt? Did he really want to drag him into this? The mere thought of mentioning prostitutes, Tina the pimp, Sam's kidnapping and death threats; he was sure that Kurt would want to run to the hills and forget about him.

Sam.

He had to risk it.

Blaine pressed Kurt's number and brought it to his ear, his heart beating frantically. He waited, but with each ring of the phone, Blaine's resolve weakened. "Where are you, Kurt?" He muttered to himself. And then he couldn't take it anymore, with every sound of the phone ringing, Blaine could feel himself backing out. He quickly pressed 'end'. It was for the best; Kurt shouldn't be involved. Blaine turned his phone off.

He turned around and looked back at Karofsky. 'Stay away from Tina and Mike' the caller had said. Did the caller not want him to go back to them because they did in fact have information that would help him? Blaine scanned the area just outside of his car window. The alleyway, apart from their two cars, was dark and empty. Surely no one else was watching him here. He couldn't see a thing. He would have to risk it.

Blaine got out of his car and headed towards Karofsky. A surprised look came over his face, but he pressed the control on the side of his door and his window slid down as Blaine approached.

"Tina really knows who has Sam?" He asked simply. It was a stupid question because Karofsky wouldn't lie for the people who he worked for, but Blaine still had to ask.

Karofsky met his eyes. "Yes, she does." It was said with such solemn conviction that his answer was undeniably the truth.

"And she knows where he is?"

He nodded.

"Does she..." Blaine paused, worried that he was going to sound ludicrous. "Does she know anything about the backups to the project?"

Karofsky didn't answer, but his head snapped up and his eyes burned in surprise as if Blaine would dare to utter such words. Blaine felt only more confused, but he was smart, and he knew that it was not Karofsky that would give him the answers that he needed.

"How can I trust them?"

Karofsky snorted, "You can't, but you don't really have any choice, do you?" Karofsky commented snidely. He glanced at Blaine's phone, still in his hands. "No matter who you try to speak to, you won't get any answers. You only have one option."

Their eyes met and Blaine didn't need Karofsky to elaborate on what option he was talking about. He turned away from the car, his feet crunching on the gravel underneath his shoes. He wasn't ready to even remotely consider Tina's invitation, but he was willing to try and speak to her again. Heck, he would get down on his hands and knees and beg if he had to.

Blaine cleared his throat. "I think you'd better take me inside."

Karofsky didn't answer but climbed out of the car and locked it with one push of the button. He turned towards the two metal doors they had used earlier to exit and brought out another set of keys.

***

Kurt walked hurriedly back to the limousine. The streets were now filled with people and it quickly came to his attention that trying to spy Blaine through these crowds would be pointless. He gazed back over his shoulder, just one last attempt, just in case, out of pure luck, his eyes fell on Blaine. It wasn't to be so. All he could see was an endless sea of strangers.

The Blue Banana was next on his list. It was where Blaine said he and Sam had often hung out. Maybe Blaine had stopped by there.

"Excuse me, sir!" His limousine driver called out to him as he approached. "Your phone has been ringing." Kurt ran the rest of the way to the waiting car, the sound of his phone reaching his ears. He grabbed hold of the device and brought it to his ear.

"Shit!" He swore. The phone had cut off just as he had pressed the answer button. He looked at the number. "Blaine!" He cried, filling with happiness and frustration all at once. Kurt quickly pressed redial, but was greeted with a message telling him that Blaine's phone had been turned off. "Fuck!" He swore again. "The Blue Banana," he told the driver.

Kurt practically threw himself into the backseat and he was pleased to see that his driver seemed to acknowledge his worry. The old man didn't waste any time and the limousine screeched away from the curb.

***

If Blaine had been impressed with Tina's new look earlier in the evening, then her party attire left him speechless. The nights were her time to truly shine and get her work done. Compared to this morning, she was now wearing a sparkling dress that left nothing to the imagination. It showed off her beautifully toned body and luscious olive skin just to the right degree.

They eyed each other maliciously, both knowing that the evening would change everything for Blaine. Blaine glared at her, hating everything about her because as soon as he saw her, even though he couldn't admit it to himself just yet, he knew he was going to end up risking everything he'd ever loved.

Tina glared back victoriously, she knew he would have enough contempt to kill her ten times over, but the sight of him standing there before her was the best sight she had ever seen. She was so close to having all of her plans pan out. Their exchange only lasted for a mere three seconds before the gracious fake smile flashed over her beautiful face again.

Tina was in a karaoke room surrounded by men and women, and she was obviously the life of the party. Everyone was hanging off her every word, laughing at her jokes, wanting to be her, wanting to be with her. All eyes fell on Blaine as he stood at the entrance of the small private room.

"Blaine," Tina sang out, the smile on her face becoming even larger. "So glad you could make it back. I guess that you had no luck with your business endeavors this evening?" She added slyly. "No?"

Blaine shook his head. "You're right," he answered, trying to ignore the people who were staring curiously up at him. "I did not find what I was looking for."

Tina scooted over on the plush seat, forcing several of the men beside her to move over. "Come join us," she invited, patting the space beside her. "I've just introduced these lovely men to these gorgeous people and we're all having such a wonderful time." She glanced back at the man beside her.

Blaine hesitated. He wanted to talk to her, wanted to plead that she share what she knew, but he quickly realized that that was not how the evening was going to play out. Tina was adamant that they were to stay and entertain the men she was with. "They're important businessmen who need to be kept happy," she whispered in his ear as he sat stiffly beside her. Blaine cast his eyes on the men, wondering just what kind of business they were in, and how they could be so important to her that she had to entertain them in such a way.

"I want to talk to you alone," Blaine spoke quickly into her ear.

She heard him, even though she started to laugh at a joke that one of the men on the other end of the couch had just shared. She leaned over to Blaine mid giggle, "Later, Blaine." She caught his pained expression, "Later." She gently squeezed his thigh before turning back to the people in the circle.

The music was loud, the conversation joyful, and the drink plenty. Blaine had to acknowledge that it was a completely different scene from his days on Hollywood Boulevard. The prostitutes here were definitely upper scale, their clothes expensive and elegant, their hair styled and their shoes designers not knock-offs from the back of a car. If Blaine had passed one of these women in the street, he would never have guessed that this was their chosen profession.

There was one man, however, at the end of the couch that kept trying to make eye contact with Blaine. He was by himself, unaccompanied, and Blaine didn't need to look twice to know that he was not after a female companion. Blaine didn't speak to anyone though, his insides churning and his ribcage clenching together at the situation he had gotten himself into. Never before had he felt so lost.

It was several hours later that a very impatient Blaine watched the couples begin to leave. Tina stood, following them to the door, talking, shaking their hands, being the ever dutiful, concerned host until, at last, it was only the two of them left in the room. A heavy silence filled the small space as Blaine turned the music off. He stood anxiously at one end of the private room, dreading what was going to happen next.

Tina closed the door and glanced at the table that was cluttered with empty bottles, cigarette butts, and plates of snacks. She found her glass of wine, took a soft sip, and walked slowly towards him and Blaine couldn't help but fold his arms defensively across his chest. She eyed him carefully; Blaine cringed.

"So," Tina declared once she was only a few feet away. "We've established that you want information."

Blaine nodded eagerly, happy that she had gone straight to the issue at hand. Maybe he had been worrying too much after all. "Yes," he responded. "I'm to believe that you're not solely responsible for Sam's disappearance."

"Oh! Is that so?" she replied, feigning ignorance, "and why is that?"

"Because I've been told to stay away from you."

A deep frown suddenly clouded her face, "And just who told you to stay away?"

"No one on the street, if that's what you're concerned about." Blaine held up his phone, "someone called me."

Tina's eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. "So they've contacted you have they? That's interesting."

"Yes," Blaine took a step closer; he felt his hopes rise in his chest. The fact that they were communicating more honestly and frankly, Blaine was beginning to feel optimistic that she just might actually tell him. "What are the backups to the project?"

Blaine wanted to swallow down his last sentence, because it appeared that as soon as Blaine said those words, Tina's sinister harsh attitude returned.

"As I said before, Blaine, if you want information out of me, it's going to cost you. You'll have to do me a favor."

"They said they're going to kill him, Tina!" Blaine gushed, grabbing her roughly by both arms. "Sam! They said they would kill Sam!"

Blaine saw it. Saw her struggle with what he had just said. Was it possible? Were all of Tina's actions here a complete act? Did she actually remember that the three of them were all from the same place? The same deprived impoverished corner of the road. Would she remember the connection they all had and tell him?

Apparently not; she swallowed deeply and her hard resolve returned once more.

"You have to do one for me," she said.

"I'm not going to turn tricks for you, Tina," Blaine spat firmly.

"You know how it goes, Blaine. It is how you picked up Kurt after all, isn't it? You got him to pay you for directions, isn't that right?" Blaine's face dropped. How did she know that?

"But, but that was when I was a ..." He didn't say the word often, "a prostitute. I'm not anymore."

"And yet, here you are, standing before me." Her voice was hauntingly soft, so much so that it was obvious she was attempting to entrap him.

"I can't believe you really expect me to do that!" Blaine shook his head angrily. He let go of her arms and stormed to the other side of the room and collapsed onto the sofa in agitation. "You know I've never been interested in doing anything with you."

Tina stopped in surprise at hearing his words, but then a sudden long peal of laughter tinkled out of her mouth. "Oh, Blaine!" She gasped in between breaths, "I'm so sorry about the confusion." She sauntered over to him, reached down, and took his hand, pulling him to his feet. "And, yes, while it is a sexual favor that I require you to perform, the favor is not me, and will never be, I might add, as my heart lies elsewhere now." Blaine looked at her in surprise, but she didn't elaborate and instead continued on the mission she wanted fulfilled. "It is actually for the son of a very wealthy lawyer who has strong connections in particular legal circles in LA."

"And why can't you get one of your many minions to help him instead?" Blaine cried in exasperation.

"Because you," she said, turning around to give him a smile as they walked, "will be perfect for him. You're just his type, and there are reasons why I really need his father's support."

He wasn't too sure what she meant by that, but he was so close to his breaking point now that her words were quickly forgotten. "You really expect me to do this? Just to get information from you?" He cried.

She didn't respond, but guided him out of the private room and down the corridor where they soon stopped behind another glass door. Blaine nervously glanced inside and made out a solitary figure sitting on the couch. The room was too dark for him to make out the person's face.

"His name is Eli," Tina began at a soft whisper. She stood calmly in front of Blaine. "It's his first time." Blaine's eyebrows rose at the mere mention of that and he had to turn away, his hands reaching to his hair and the gel that had it carefully molded into place. The fact that this was going to be the guy's first time meant he wasn't going to be able to rush things, he was going to have to take his time. But then, maybe it was a blessing in disguise, maybe he could just get away with giving the guy a hand job.

Could he really do this? Have sex for money, again? And just for the purpose of getting information about Sam? He wasn't going to get information from anywhere else he had realized that long ago. He didn't want to turn up tomorrow evening at the Mondrain and still be in the position he was in right now; clueless. How could he turn up and not have these backups, whatever they were. Would they really kill Sam? The blood in his body burned, if these people were worse than Mike and Tina, then there was no doubt in his mind that they were really capable of it.

He closed his eyes, battling with the thoughts in his head. It wouldn't matter too much if he did this, Blaine tried to reassure himself. He would be, of course, disgusted, but he had been with many different people in the past. He would be able to switch into work mode and just zone out until it was all over. But deep down, being a prostitute was something Blaine believed that he had said goodbye to a long time ago. He couldn't believe that he was back here again, considering offering himself to Tina's services, but he also knew Tina. Tina must know something good if she was willing to bargain with such a huge chip as Blaine's virtue with Kurt.

Kurt! His beloved Kurt who he adored to the ends of the Earth and believed he would spend the rest of his life with. Doing something like this was betrayal, even though his intent was not for sexual or emotional gratification. Kurt would be devastated. He wouldn't be able to understand how Blaine would be able to switch off, effectively releasing his mind from the actions his body was performing. He wouldn't know that it hadn't meant anything or felt anything to him.

Blaine hated this, hated how it was sex that he had to bargain with. Being with Kurt had changed the very way that Blaine thought about sex. Kurt had made it special; a way to connect, a way to feel loved, and a way to give his love. Before Kurt had come along, Blaine had given up on ever finding that kind of intimacy with anyone. He believed love was just a fallacy, a false hope created by poets and dreamers.

But then there was also Sam. He was a friend and his life was in danger. Love was love and it could sometimes be rebuilt and repaired, but a life, after it was gone, it was gone, for good, forever. It would never come back. And Blaine didn't know whether he could live with himself, if he still had Kurt at the expense of Sam's life.

He would have to have faith. He would have to believe that once he told Kurt what he had done, Kurt would forgive him and acknowledge that again, at the time, he didn't have any other option to follow. Blaine would do anything to convince Kurt. But if he did lose him, Sam could still be alive.

Frustrated and feeling helpless, he turned quickly and stood right before her. "Don't you feel horrible bribing me to do this," he whispered, their faces only inches apart. It was his last attempt to stop this before he went too far. He was begging her. "Please don't make me do this. Just tell me what you know. What are the back-ups? I'll do anything else. I can give you money."

"I'm sorry, Blaine," her voice shook but she continued. "It's just the way it's got to be." She placed a guiding hand on his elbow, "the gentleman needs some attention."

"You want me to do this here? In that dingy little room?!" He asked, aghast, his eyes falling back onto the man's silhouette through the glass door.

"You have to earn my trust, Blaine," Tina answered, watching him carefully. "Do you think I would just let you waltz right out of here with a man on your arm and believe that you did the deed?"

Blaine glared at her for it had very well been his idea. He stared back at the room. Blaine couldn't deny that he had been with clients in far more awkward and non-private situations, some he definitely didn't want to recall. His insides squirmed as he remembered one particular man who had a fetish for having sex in hotel swimming pools. And then, there was the one client who took Blaine to a different club every week where he would then insist on him giving him a hand job on the club's dance floor. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more lurid sexual favors that Blaine had performed in the past rushed to his mind, and now here would be another one to add to his list.

Tina laughed, mistaking the reason behind his hesitation, "My darling Blaine, I didn't know that shacking up with some New Yorker could turn you into such a prude, but don't worry, if you don't want anyone outside watching, there is a blind you can use."

Blaine didn't answer. He glared at Tina but she only met his gaze with a steadfast sureness.

"And you swear, that if I do this, you'll tell me..."

"Where Sam is and who has him," Tina finished his sentence. "Blaine," she placed a hand on his arm, her heartless determination dilating her pupils. "There are cameras in the room, I'll be watching."

She turned and left then, leaving Blaine gaping after her. She had just taken away his last hope of not having to go through with her heartless plan. He was going to bribe the young man with Kurt's money, so that he would tell her that they had done stuff together but now she would be watching, filming what they were doing?

Blaine leaned his head against the wall beside the door and unable to stop himself threw two clenched fist against its surface in anger. It was followed with a quick kick as well. His mind was in a flurry, his heart was pounding so loud inside his head that he couldn't hear his own thoughts. He tried to find a way out of it but he couldn't. Sam's life depended on him. Numbly his hand went up to the handle and even before he entered the room, before he even realized or before he could stop it, the sheen came over and he went straight back into working mode.

"Forgive me, Kurt," he whispered to himself, and he hoped, just hoped, that Kurt would indeed allow him to repair his heart once he had torn it to shreds.

The young man inside sat nervously upright as soon as Blaine entered the room. He turned and found the blind that Tina had mentioned and pulled it down, casting them into semi-privacy. She might be watching through the camera, but at least he wouldn't have anyone passing by having a peek too.

"Hey, man," Blaine spoke evenly as he closed the distance between them. He held out his hand and gave the other man a firm handshake.

"Hey," Eli answered. He glanced about nervously and found an unopened bottle of beer at the edge of the table. "You want a drink?"

"Nah," Blaine responded and he took a seat dangerously close to Eli's side. The sofa was plush and large, and wide enough for any of the kind of activities that they would be indulging in. Eli gave him an edgy smile. "So, my friend Tina said you might be looking for a bit of fun tonight." Blaine began. He leaned closer, allowing his arm to rest over the back of the sofa, effectively opening his whole body up in a welcoming casual safe position.

Eli eyed him up, obviously trying to figure out whether he had the courage to continue. Blaine saw him swallow deeply and watched as he saw Eli's eyes fall onto his face, to his eyes, his cheekbones, and to his lips. "I would like to have a bit of fun."

Blaine shifted his body on the sofa, leaning himself inwards, taking his words as his consent for him to continue. He reached out gently, resting his hand next to Eli's. His little finger stroked at Eli's little finger and Blaine suddenly felt a cringe at the back of his mind. This was really going to happen. Kurt flashed before his eyes, the very man who had saved him from the streets and given him a future with purpose and love.

Blaine gazed back over to the apprehensive but eager young man. "What do you want to do?" He asked softly. He could feel the life inside of him oozing out with each and every second he stayed in the room.

Eli paused, considering his question and then, almost before Blaine could react, Eli swooped in, aiming for his lips. Blaine pulled back just in time and managed to get his hand up, stopping his lips from colliding with Eli's. "I never kiss on the mouth," he said firmly.

Blaine leaned forward then and found the skin at the side of Eli's neck, its surface slightly rough from the day's regrowth. He worked slowly, easing his lips over Eli's skin and, when he didn't feel him pull away, Blaine raised his hand so it rested firmly on Eli's thigh and began to gently massage over the length of his leg. Blaine heard Eli gasp in pleasure and the man brought his hand up to Blaine's chest.

"You really are the real deal, aren't you?" Eli gasped as Blaine's hand found its way under his shirt. Blaine felt his heart sink at those words and he pulled away from the man's collarbone.

"Yeah, I'm the real deal," Blaine replied flatly, his heart filling with sadness. "I'm a prostitute."