The combination of the loud music thumping through the air and the lewdness of the gaudy neon lights, Blaine's head was pounding. He was ready to kill his friends for taking him to this god-awful place. He thought he would never step foot into such an establishment and he probably never would have if it weren't for Wes' sneak attack bachelor party plan.

Blaine was getting married in just three short days and here he was, at Layers, a local strip club, which, he had to admit despite himself, was quite high end. He wondered what sort of strings Wes had to pull to get a place here, let alone five of them.

The club had two main rooms, one for male strippers and one for females, and the five of them were all seated in the male section, despite the fact that only one of them was interested in men.

Blaine rubbed his face with the palm of his hands, "You guys can go to the other room if you want. I don't want you to be uncomfortable or anything." Blaine offered. The other men, excluding Wes, shared a collective look of relief.

"No. We're fine here, Blaine." Wes replied for the whole group, earning a few grimaces, the largest from Blaine. "Besides, if we don't stay, you'll just run out of here and you won't get to enjoy part two of your present."

Blaine's eyes widened, "No, Wes. You didn't..."

His friend smirked in return, "Oh yes, Blainey boy. A private session with one of their finest exotic dancers."

Blaine closed his eyes tightly, "Aaron is going to be so pissed."

"Aw, come on, Blaine. You're getting married on Sunday. You're allowed to have as much fun as possible until then." Wes reasoned.

Blaine groaned, "But this isn't fun to me." He gestured vaguely to his surroundings.

"You must be Blaine." A soft, airy voice came from behind him, hands ghosting over his shoulders and down his chest.

Blaine craned his neck to look at the face above him and, oh my god, this man was beautiful. Chestnut hair, milky white skin and eyes that he could stare into for days and wait. No. Blaine has a boyfr- fiance. He was getting married in three days, it's not okay to be thinking about other men in this way.

Blaine swallowed. Unable to speak, he just sat there in awe of both the situation and of how absolutely stunning this man was.

"Yes! This is Blaine." Wes answered for him. Blaine's not sure whether he should thank him or

knee him in the balls.

The man smile, chuckling in amusement at the petrified look on Blaine's face. "Come on back with me, Honey. I'll take good care of you." The man's eyes were mirthful as he held out a hand to help Blaine out of his seat.

Blaine's gut tightened and he felt himself being drawn to this man. It was like some mystical stripper magic or something, Blaine was sure of it. Taking the hand in front of him in his own, Blaine was pulled to his feet.

"I'm Ivory, by the way." He winked.

Blaine nodded because his brain was too busy short-circuiting to think of his manners long enough to form any type of pleasantries. Ivory tugged at his tie, loosening it with ease, "Follow me, Tiger." He spoke sensually, turning on the spot and strutting away from the group, over toward the hall of private rooms.

Blaine was left, utterly dumbfounded in his pot until a hand smack him hard on the ass. "Blaine, I'm paying for this. If you don't go in there and have a little fun with Ivory right now, I am going to knee you in the 'nads every day for the rest of your life."

Blaine rolled his eyes at Wes' attempt to scare him but started moving forward regardless. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit intrigued.

Inside, Ivory was waiting for him, leaning against the silver pole, placed perfectly in the center of the room. "Take a seat." He motioned toward the large leather armchair that was facing a mirror-lined wall.

A nervous sound escaped Blaine as he took the suggested seat. "I'm sorry I'm so... awkward. I've never been to a-" He stopped himself, wondering if the term 'strip club' might possibly be offensive. God, he was floundering and it was embarrassing. He had no idea what was acceptable in these situations or what to do and when it started, where his hands were supposed to go and he hated Wes right now, more than he'd ever hated anyone ever in his life. When the night was over, he'd make sure Wes knew that he was never going to forgive him.

Ivory laughed outright, sliding against the smooth surface of the pole until he was eye level with Blaine. "You're cute." His eyes twinkled an Blaine felt blood rush to his cheeks.

He smiled sheepishly, "Thank you." He wondered momentarily if he should mention that he'd engaged but the moment passed when Ivory sauntered away from the pole and settled into the spot between Blaine's legs.

"What do you think about me?" Ivory asked casually as he lifted himself up onto the chair, effectively straddling Blaine.

He was started. He felt the heat from Ivory's body against his own. "What?" He asked, his voice shaking, because he honestly had no idea what was happening right now and he could think straight.

Ivory smiled endearingly before leaning in, close to his ear, "Do you think I'm attractive?" He whispered; his hot breath ticking Blaine's skin, making him shiver slightly.

He swallowed hard, breathing picking up at an alarming rate. He didn't even know what to say. Of course he found him attractive. God, the man was all lean muscle and soft, pale skin and just fuck. But Aaron crept back into his mind and he felt guilty all over again. He shouldn't think about other men this way. Shouldn't imaging taking every last bit of their clothes off and fisting their cock tightly in his hand. He shouldn't wonder what their face would look like when they came, hot and wet, over his chest and oh god. He should definitely stop thinking about all of that right now.

"I only ask because," Ivory pulled away slightly, hovering closely in front of his face, "This is all about your enjoyment." He paused, swiftly, slowly caressing the skin from Blaine's cheek to the collar of his shirt. "And if I'm not appealing to you, I can find someone who mi-"

"No!" The word left Blaine's mouth before he could have time to process it. Ivory furrowed his eyebrows, "I- I mean, yes." He paused, taking a breath, gathering himself. Ivory tilted his head, even more confused, "I mean, yes, I find you attractive."

Ivory's eyes flared mischievously, "Great." He giggled, "Now, rules..." Blaine sighed in relief, grateful that the hard part was over. "Our policy is 'no hands', but you seem like a nice guy, so I'll allow it. Above the waist." He paused, taking Blaine's hands in his own and placing them on the small of his back. Blaine instantly linked his fingers together.

"Hmmm." Ivory hummed lightly, an amused smile playing at his lips. "No kissing." Blaine nodded. "Anywhere." Ivory added with a wink.

"Keep the dirty talk to a minimum, that's my job."

Blaine chuckled, feeling a lot more at ease than before.

"And if things are getting a little too... intense for you, just say you 'need a minute.' I'll back off immediately. Got all that?"

Blaine nodded silently, trying his best not to move a muscle in his hands, in case it startled Ivory.

"Mmm, Okay. Let me out. I can't start out on your lap. We've gotta build out way up to that." He laughed, and yeah, Blaine was feeling a lot more relaxed and he was really, really looking forward to seeing what Ivory had in store for him.

Unlatching his hands from behind the other man's back, Blaine watched him effortlessly bounce off of the chair and walk over to the wall to the right of him, where there was a screen with a keypad.

Blaine couldn't help but admire the delightful view of Ivory's ass that this situation had present him with. Oh dear god. This man was absolutely flawless. Thinking back to just a minute before, Blaine almost laughed out loud, because how could he not find this man attractive? His eyes roamed, finally taking in what he was wearing: a form-fitting, light blue dress shirt, tucked neatly into pair of pressed, black slacks, complete with a pair of shiny black penny loafers. He was dressed so nicely, only to take it off of himself, piece by piece.

Blaine felt a pang of discomfort. He suddenly felt the urge to stand up and stop Ivory from starting his act because... he felt wrong. This whole thing felt wrong and not because Blaine was getting married in a few days, but because Ivory was so... untouchable. Blaine felt horrible about ogling such a beautiful creature in such a primal way. This is why he figured he'd never go to a strip club; because he can't allow himself to enjoy seeing people being degraded and demeaned in general but with Ivory, even more so.

There was something so classic about him, with his perfectly coiffed hair and lovely, pronounced cheekbones. He deserved more than this. More than having to dance around and take his clothes off for other people's enjoyment. Blaine hated to think about what kind of skeevy, unfiltered, filthy people had tried to put their hands all over Ivory. He wasn't sure what to do. His mind was screaming at him to get up and call the whole thing off. He should just walk out of the club that night and he'll feel like a better man because he didn't succumb to his testosterone-driven instincts. But that wouldn't solve the problem; not in the least. Because then instead of Blaine, who prided himself on being gentlemanly and courteous and not a disgusting pig, it could be some random asshole that wouldn't follow Ivory's rules and maybe he'd go too far and...

The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. No. He'd have to stay, if only just for his allotted time, so that there's not even the possibility that it would happen.

"You ready, handsome?" Ivory turned around, once the music he'd selected started playing.

Blaine breathed heavily. He'd almost forgotten how painstakingly attractive this man was, but one quick look at his face and it was back in full swing. Not objectifying him was going to be the toughest thing Blaine would ever have to do.

"Mhm." He answered tightly. Ivory took notice of this.

"Blaine," He spoke softly, "You don't have to be nervous... I get that this is... out of the ordinary for you. This is my job. I'm kind of good at reading people." He smiled and Blaine's head fell, his gaze now fixated on his lap. "Seriously, I just want you to enjoy it. Your friends want you to have a little fun, and that's exactly what I'm here to help you with." He explained, making his way over to Blaine and lifting his chin with his index finger.

Blaine grimaced, eyes squinting as he tried not to make eye contact with Ivory.

"Look at me." Blaine listened, intent on respecting his every wish. As soon as their eyes made contact, Blaine forgot how to breathe. He'd glanced at those eyes before, of course... but now, with their full attention, he doesn't see how he could look at anything else. His chest tightened and he realized that he probably looked absolutely ridiculous to Ivory, due to his dreary, far-off state. "I can tell you don't like the idea of paying for this type of entertainment." He paused, moving his hand to cup Blaine's cheek. "But please don't think of it that way. I'd prefer it if you didn't... I appreciate your concern, but I'm a big boy and I can make my own decisions." His tone hadn't changed; it was still light, caring even. "And I would really like to do this for you, if you'd let go of your inhibitions just for one night."

The knot in Blaine's stomach virtually disappeared at Ivory's words. He was basically asking Blaine to not feel bad about wanting to see him take his clothes off. And yes that's definitely something that Blaine wanted to see but he didn't want to let himself but now he's being told to let go and just want.

"I just don't..." Blaine started, unable to stop himself from voicing his thoughts. Ivory straightened up to stand, giving Blaine some breathing space, "I don't want to be like one of those... assholes that come in here and just have no respect for the fact that you're a fucking human being, you know?" He finished, his hands clenched into fists on the armrests.

Ivory let out a breathy laugh, "Then don't."

Blaine looked at him then, noted the wide smile, stretching across his face; the slightly airy way he swayed on the spot as he stood, one hand on his hip and the other rubbing softly at his neck.

The weight of guilt being lifted almost instantly, Blaine nodded, letting himself smile finally, and relax a great deal.

Ivory giggled, his eyes dancing with excitement, "Great. We'll get started then."

And get started he did. Blaine let his muscles relax and he sank back into the armchair. Ivory made his way back to the keypad and restarted the song.

At the first notes, Blaine was startled to notice that it wasn't the typical, tacky R&B tune that you'd expect. It started slow; simple, one instrument. The sounds of the cello reverberated into his ears and it was so beautiful. Blaine's attention was brought to Ivory, as he turned on his heel, finally facing the man in the chair once more.

Ivory's eyes were closed as he let his upper body lean against the wall behind him, arching his back slowly as the music rose into a crescendo and ten disappeared. Starting up again, though soft and slow, it pounded loudly into his ears. He watched as Ivory spun with grace away from the wall and hooked an arm around the pole in front of Blaine. The way this man moved so fluidly and unwavering, it was mesmerizing. Blaine couldn't take his eyes off of him – he was positive he'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

The cellos sounded on, and as the speed of the song quickened, the sharper Ivory's movements became. He was one with the music, keeping eye contact with Blaine for the most part, but Blaine noticed there were moments where he'd close his eyes and take a deep breath, relaxing and getting lost in the rhythm.

Blaine felt the hair on his arms stand on end, a chill running down his spine. The cellos played faster and louder and Ivory threw himself onto his knees on the floor before there was complete silence.

Blaine's breath caught in his throat, his mouth had fallen open in awe. He was about to speak when the cellos started up again; slowly, quietly.

Ivory moved slowly, crawling slowly toward Blaine. Beat by beat, he advanced, his head down. A strong note found him snapping his head up to meet Blaine's gaze with a hungry stare.

Blaine's breath quickened as Ivory placed a hand on either side of the arm chair. Leaning into Blaine, Ivory lifted himself up and placed his knees next to Blaine's thighs, straddling him once again.

The music was back in full swing now and Ivory rolled his hips in the air in front of Blaine's face.

Blaine swallowed; the sight of Ivory, even still in pants, gyrating in front of him was really appealing. Blaine kept his hands to his sides, despite Ivory telling him it was okay to touch above the waist.

Blaine was just getting used to the warmth around him before Ivory climbed agilely to the back of the chair, sitting behind his head, legs lying over his shoulders. He brought his ankles together, pressing the balls of his feet into Blaine's chest. Blaine took a sharp intake of breath, tensing for the first time since Ivory had started.

Hands came to caress Blaine's neck, "Relax." A soothing whisper sounded in his ear, and it was instantaneous.

His eyes closed, his shoulders slumped. He just let himself be.

Ivory giggled at the change and Blaine smiled softly.

It was odd. The whole situation. Here Blaine was, getting a lap dance… but instead of the usual crude, raunchy feel that one would assume to have, Blaine felt like he was watching a play. A performance. Precise, swift movements; rehearsed and trained; beautiful, moving music; and little to no talking.

Ivory wasn't a 'stripper', he was a performer. And Blaine was entirely thankful that fate had been so kind to bring Ivory to him because he had little faith that there was anyone else in this establishment like him.

Blaine was warm all over, Ivory still running his hands from the back of Blaine's head – tangled in his hair- to dance over his chest. On one of the strokes to the back of his head, Ivory pressed the palm of his hand against where his neck met his shoulders. The hand, pressing deeply into the tension in his back, caused Blaine to moan involuntarily.

As quick as it happened, blood rushed to Blaine's face, reddening his cheeks as he mumbled a quick, "Sorry."

"Mm-mm." Ivory replied, teasingly. "No apologies for feeling good. I'm here to make you feel very good, and I'll accept no unwarranted atonements."

Blaine laughed, "Whatever you say. You're the boss."

"Glad you know who's in charge." Ivory whispered, patting Blaine's chest once before climbing off the back of the chair.

Blaine hardly registered the change in music with the sudden lack of Ivory's presence as a distraction. He watched as the man unbuttoned his shirt, in time with the swelling music. His eyes, never leaving Blaine's he tossed the garment off to the side of the room. Blaine didn't even stop himself from appreciating the newly exposed expanse of pale, untarnished skin. Ivory's chest was toned, taught muscle. He was no body-builder, but he had some muscle to show and Blaine could feel the heat pool low in his belly.

Still, there were cellos, but this was much more staccato. Kurt smirked wickedly and Blaine fought the urge to groan. Quick, powerful, almost menacing in a way, the music played on. A foreboding, Blaine thought.

And then Ivory was twirling, quickly, one complete turn after another. One, two, three, four, five, six times until he launched into the air, spreading his legs and landing spread eagle in Blaine's lap, arching his back so that he was holding himself up with his palms against the floor, legs still next to Blaine's thighs.

"Shit." Blaine swore under his breath, his eyes wide at the sight. Ivory pulled himself back up, buttoning his pants on the way.

Blaine's breathing was very far from normal as he watched pale fingers working the button and zipper of those slacks. With practiced ease, Ivory removed the article of clothing without a hitch, reclaiming his position in Blaine's lap.

Blaine pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down on it, to keep from making any inappropriate noises. The heat provided by Ivory's body was almost unbearable, and Blaine could feel his body reacting. He willed his cock to stop what it was doing. He thought of old ladies, and baseball, and open wounds or just- anything. He knows that this is kind of supposed to happen, but it doesn't make it any less embarrassing or awkward.

The music rose into a crescendo one more and with every beat that it got louder, Ivory moved closer, closer, closer –until Blaine was sure Ivory could feel how hard he was in his pants.

He tried to suppress a groan, but it made its escape, sounding more like a growl in the end. Ivory pressed his bare chest against Blaine's clothed one, rocking with the music, grinding his hips down. That's when Blaine realized that he wasn't the only one who was fully hard.

Blaine gasped at the feeling of Ivory's cock, rubbing against his own. Lips appeared below his ear; breath, hot against his skin.

Everything shifted. Blaine was vaguely aware that there was something going on here that wasn't the usual protocol for these sorts of situations but he felt so intense that he couldn't bring himself to care.

The lips made contact with his neck and sent sparks up his spine. Forgetting all rules that had been set – No kissing; hands above the waist; 'Need a minute'- Blaine's hands moved behind Ivory, to cup his ass. Ivory moaned in response, losing the rhythm of his hips; the music long forgotten.

Ivory began a trail of kisses up his jaw before finally claiming Blaine's mouth with his own.

It was unlike any kiss Blaine had ever experienced. Pleasure shot through him like he'd been electrocuted with it, and his chest tightened. His head felt like it was too heavy and he briefly thought he may just explode on the spot.

But just as soon as Blaine got used to the feeling, it was gone. He was cold. Blaine blinked his eyes open to see Ivory picking up his discarded clothes, frantically.

"Wha-"

"This- that was a mistake. Shit." Ivory cursed as he dropped his shirt back onto the floor.

"But-"

"Just please don't tell anyone that happened… I could lose my job and I-" He stopped himself from going any further, pulling his pants back on; his erection still obviously there.

"Ivory, I-"

"I'm sorry." Were his final words before he left Blaine alone in the room.

Shit.

Blaine stood up, slowly, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. He'd just cheated on his fianc�, for one. And with an exotic dancer who apparently now will never speak to him again. But why should he care about that?

Blaine sighed, walking back out into the main room to find Wes and the rest.

He didn't know anything about Ivory. All he had was a fake name and the memory of his lips, his body, pressed against him. So why did he feel like complete shit? Aaron. He'd cheated on him. Cheated less than a week before their wedding.

But the worst part was that he should have felt really, really guilty about that, and he just didn't. It's selfish, he knew, but what just happened with Ivory felt too good for guilt. But he still felt like shit. Because Ivory left so suddenly. Blaine had broken a rule, he'd went below the waist. Was that why Ivory left? But Ivory had broken a rule, too. No kissing.

He was so confused that he hadn't even realized that he'd sat down at the right table, as his friends watched the women dance on stage. Wes elbowed him in the arm.

He winced but otherwise remained emotionless.

"Hey… what happened?" Wes questioned, noticing his friend's lack of enthusiasm.

"Nothing. Seriously. Just- I think we should go."

The rest of the guys protested as a scantily clad woman strutted by, winking at them. Wes put his foot down though, demanding they all left.

After the drive home, Wes stayed for a bit to make sure Blaine was okay. Assuring him that everything was fine and that he just really didn't like strip clubs was all –"but no, no don't be sorry, it's fine. I'm not mad at you"- Wes exited Blaine's apartment.

Blaine's mind was reeling. He couldn't stop thinking about Ivory and what happened and could have happened if he hadn't left. He wanted to know more about the man with the incredibly soft, pale skin; with the exquisite blue-green eyes; with such grace that Blaine couldn't even believe. He at least needed a name. His real name.

Making a ridiculously impulsive decision, Blaine searched for the club on the internet, checking their hours of operation. They closed at 2:00 in the morning. Blaine looked at the clock: 11:19pm. Aaron would be home any minute. He left a note saying he'd be at Wes' until very late and not to wait up and left the apartment. Having three hours to kill, Blaine drove around the city, wasting time and just thinking.

What was he doing? He was risking his engagement, his whole relationship and future for one man who he didn't even know. Blaine was tempted to return home but decided against it every time he remembered what he felt like when Ivory kissed him. It was like a god-damn sensory overload in the most intense and blissful way.

He thought about what he was going to say to Ivory when he saw him. He thought about if Ivory would be glad to see him or upset that he was there. He tried not to get his hopes up, thinking of the worst possible scenarios.

After driving around for a while, Blaine decided he didn't want to show up at the club empty handed. He needed a peace offering. Finding an all-night grocer/florist, he bought a bouquet of white daisies.

Checking the time on his watch, he noticed that he had about an hour left until the club closed. His excitement and anxiousness at an all-time high, he chose to just drive over there and wait in the parking lot, not trusting himself to drive around anymore when he was this jittery.

"Ivory?" Blaine called, as he saw him leave the building with another one of the male dancers.

He watched as Ivory tensed before turning to face Blaine with wide eyes. Taking in the sight – Blaine, alone, with flowers- Ivory told his co-worker to go ahead without him. The man eyed Blaine wearily before obeying Ivory's order, wishing his good-night.

"Blaine…" Ivory stepped toward him, his voice soft; even. He glanced at the flowers, his mouth opening to speak but no words came.

Blaine's heart was pounding, his hands were sweaty and he honestly had no idea what he was doing.

"I brought you these." Blaine offered, extending his arm, flowers in hand.

Ivory took them, bringing them to his nose to smell them, the corner of his mouth upturned. "May I ask why?"

"You may." Blaine smiled, and Ivory just gave him a look. "But, I- I honestly don't have an answer."

Ivory raised an eyebrow, "You brought me flowers, but you don't know why." It was half-question, half-statement.

Blaine grimaced, trying to work out his thoughts so that he could properly convey them.

"Well, I- I don't know why I'm even here." Ivory narrowed his eyes. Blaine stumbled, "N-no. What I mean is… I- I'm confused."

"Apparently." Ivory smirked.

Blaine blushed, "Why did you leave?"

Ivory looked down at the daisies, twirling them a bit in his hands. "I told you. I- that wasn't supposed to happen. I could have gotten in trouble." He paused, looking timid, "I still could if you…"

Blaine stepped toward him, "No! No. I'm not. I mean- I won't. I promise."

Ivory seemed to relax at that. This side of him was so different. A bit off-putting. Not it a bad way. It just wasn't anything like the Ivory Blaine had seen earlier. Blaine wondered if the confidence was just a part of the act or if he was just uncomfortable now.

"Blaine…" Ivory spoke, and Blaine couldn't help but smile a little at the way he said his name. "What exactly are you doing here?" He asked again, his eyes questioning and bright.

Blaine took a breath, trying to gather some sort of fortitude. "I wanted to apologize." He started, and Ivory opened his mouth to speak but Blaine held a hand up to stop him, "Please, let me finish."

Ivory nodded.

"You clearly told me not to touch you, blow the waist, and I- I didn't adhere to that rule… and for that, I am sorry." He paused, but he had more to say, Ivory could tell.

"I- I came because I needed to talk to you, because… I- I have this feeling. I don't know how to describe it. But it's like nagging at me and I know it won't go away until I talked to you and told you that… what happened, earlier, I've never… felt anything so- intense."

He was babbling, mostly to himself. He honestly didn't know how to explain what he was feeling when he didn't even know what it was, himself.

"And… and I left, and went home, and you were all I could think about and-shit." He swore, wincing, "This probably sounds creepy and you probably hear it all the time from –like- tons of assholes with horrible intentions but- I want to get to know you."

Ivory looked surprised, his eyes wide and mouth open as he stared in wonder at Blaine, who was staring off to a point in the air while he worked all of this out in his mind.

"I haven't felt like this in a really long time- hell, I don't know if I've ever felt like this, which is probably bad since-" He laughed bitterly, "I'm engaged."

Ivory sputtered, "You- you're engaged?"

Blaine finally looked up and back to Ivory. "I- yes. But-"

"Shit, Blaine. I should've known, I mean… I do this for a living, bachelor parties happen all the time, but… I guess," He raked his eyes over Blaine's body momentarily, "I wasn't really thinking." He met Blaine's gaze once more, "Shit. I made you cheat on your fianc�!"

"Ivory, no. You didn't make me do anything… and I'd be lying if I said I regretted it."

Ivory stood there, staring at Blaine, squinting as he tried to take in everything he'd been told.

"You really want to get to know me?" His voice was small; nervous.

"It's the only thing I'm sure about right now." He smiled.

"Can we… go somewhere else?"

"Of course." Blaine walked to the passenger's side of his car, opening the door and gesturing for Ivory to take the seat. The man smiled and followed the suggestion.

Once Blaine was in his seat and buckled, he sighed, "Where to?"

"There's this, um, all-night coffee shop on 9the and Cedar. Would you like to go there?"

Blaine smiled, his confidence returning now that they were finally on track, "Anywhere."

"So what do you want to know?" Ivory asked, coffee in hand, as they sat in the quaint caf�.

"Let's start with something simple," Blaine smiled, "Your name."

Kurt gasped, feigning offense, "Why, I am appalled that you don't believe my real name is Ivory, young sir."

Blaine laughed, his eyes twinkling as he stared at the man.

"Kurt." He paused, "My name is Kurt." He admitted with a smile.

"Kurt…" Blaine tried it out on his tongue. "It's lovely." He added before, "No last name?"

Kurt laughed, "Hey, I don't know your last name either." He pointed out and Blaine nodded in agreement.

"True." He took a sip of his drink, "It's Anderson, by the way."

"Blaine Anderson?" Kurt questioned, his eyebrows raised.

"Yes. Why, is there something wrong with my name?" He smirked.

"Wel, no. Not if you're some sort of international spy."

Blaine coughed on his sip of coffee. "What?"

"I don't know," Kurt shrugged with a smile, "It just sounds so –James Bond- or something." He paused and Blaine just stared at him, shaking his head slightly. "Anderson. Blaine Anderson." Kurt joked, holding up his fingers into a "gun" and "pew"ing as he aimed it at Blaine's head.

Blaine's laughter continued, and Kurt joined in. As they calmed down, Blaine bit his lip, looking quizzically at Kurt.

"Where are you from?"

"A town in Ohio most known for its blatant disregard for sociopolitical advancement." He scowled at the memory, "You?"

"Hey, who said you could ask questions?" Blaine joked, a smirk in place.

"Fine," Kurt answered with a grin of his own, "I just won't answer anymore of yours." He stuck his tongue out.

"Oof." Blaine chuckled, "You play dirty."

Kurt's eyes darkened as they held Blaine's gaze, "Filthy." He whispered, leaning toward Blaine from across the table.

Blaine forgot how to breathe, and his jaw fell open slightly; his eyes wide. Noticing the change in demeanor, Kurt started laughing. "Oh my god, Blaine. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing, but… your face. You're too easy to tease."

Blaine grumbled, folding his arms across his chest, "I don't see what's so funny."

Kurt's laughing calmed, "Oh, come on… don't be mad. I just- look. I'm sorry, okay? I'm just so used to having my… forward-flirty-face on like 24/7. I didn't mean to like- I don't know. I'm just sorry, okay?"

Blaine loosened his grip on himself, looking at Kurt, "It's okay. I just- you have no idea how much power you have over me right now."

Kurt was stunned into silence.

"And you- you can't joke about that stuff because I'm pretty sure if you asked, I'd do anything you wanted."

Kurt gasped, "Blaine…"

Blaine closed his eyes, "Why did you leave?"

And it hits Kurt then, what he's really asking when he says that. He doesn't want to know logistics; he doesn't want rational, job-related answers. He wants emotions; he wants to know how Kurt feels.

"Blaine, I am going to make this perfectly clean so please, listen." He emphasized his point by taking reaching across the table to pull Blaine's hand into his own.

Blaine opened his eyes, showing Kurt that he had his full attention.

"I never in my three years of working at any club, have acted the way I did earlier. Never. I've never gotten so… carried away while performing."

Blaine's chest tightened. He listened intently as Kurt continued, but he couldn't help but think that he wasn't alone in his feelings –whatever they were.

"Of course, there were times where I'd gotten – um – excited… but hey, we all have urges, right?" He strained laughter.

"But I have never, not once, acted on it as I did today." Kurt admitted, and Blaine nodded, unable to really say anything in response. "Now, I don't know what that means, really. But at the time, it scared me. I've always been known to be able to control myself. But today, with you, I just- couldn't."

"Oh." Blaine said stupidly.

"Yeah, 'oh.'" He replied with a soft smile, "You're… well, you're hot, Blaine. But it's not that. I've encountered hot guys before and I've never reacted so strongly toward any of them." He paused, looking at Blaine, trying to get any sort of reaction from him.

He sighed, "I just don't know, Blaine. I mean… when I first saw you, the first thing I noticed was how attractive you were, because in my profession, we kind of have to gage that and, you know, prepare ourselves accordingly." He ducked his head, bashful all of a sudden, "So I was aware… of how hot you were and I kept telling myself not to do anything crazy and then you were so sweet."

Blaine's shoulders slumped at his words. "You were kind and thoughtful, although slightly judgmental… but overall, you just wanted me to be safe, you know? There aren't many guys like you who come into the club."

Blaine finally felt the urge to speak, "I wasn't doing anything that most people should be doing. I was just being a decent person. I didn't want to ogle you, despite how… beautiful you are. If anything I wanted to grab your hand and take you out to dinner."

Kurt smiled, "Really?"

"Yeah." Blaine laughed, "I- like I said, Kurt. You're beautiful… and you're confident… and from what I can tell, you're smart, and funny. I just want to know you. I want to know so much about you and that scares the shit out of me because I shouldn't be feeling this way about someone who isn't my fianc�. And I don't think I've ever even felt like this with him."

Kurt bit his lip, his stare into Blaine's eyes, long and thoughtful, "I think I should go."

"What? No, Kurt…"

Kurt stood up, picking up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "It was nice talking to you, Blaine."

"Kurt, please… don't-" Blaine followed him as he walked toward the door.

"I'll walk home. Please don't follow me."

And he was gone.