Blaine sat in his desk, busily looking over his books. If someone told him all those years ago, that almost half of being a director would be going over the paperwork for it, Blaine would've thought twice. Part of him was thankful no one told him, for he was happy with how his life turned out. Well, almost. He was a director now. Nothing big, nothing special. Just some small independent films with a pretty large fan base. He had money now, which he was still getting used to. Back when he used to work for the Lima Bean and his parents cut him off, nearly everything he made went into a savings count for a rainy day. That's not the case anymore. Now, he can burn a hole in each pocket and still have more than enough to keep him satisfied.

And then there was his other business. He wasn't exactly proud of that one. Who knew a year or two in LA would leave him with supply of hundreds of different substances? He did his best to keep that past behind him, forget all about his clientele back in LA and the few here in Ohio, but some things were hard to let go of.

There was a knock on the door, though Noah kept his eyes on his work.

"Mr. Anderson?" A small voice trembled.

"Yes, Virginia?" Blaine answered; his tone dry.

"He's here again, sir." Blaine looked up momentarily, knowing exactly who "he" was. It had been nearly a month since their last encounter, and Noah expected him back within a week. And though he swore he'd break it, that he'd be a good man and ever have to use Blaine's services again, Blaine wasn't shocked by his sudden appearance. "He says he won't take no for an answer, sir."

Blaine sighed heavily, placing his pen down upon his work. "Alright, send him in. Then you may go, Virginia."

"Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir." His secretary left the room.

Blaine bit back a greedy smirk as he heard the footsteps approach and the door swung open. Kurt Hummel stood there, hair wet from the hair, red circles under his eyes. His clothes were wrinkled, as if he had been running.

"Hello, Kurt." Blaine rolled his name, making the "kur" seem longer. "What, may I ask, can I do for you think fine evening?"

"You know I want." Kurt slithered.

Blaine leaned back in his chair. "I do?" He asked innocently.

"Don't play dumb with me, Blaine! Just give me what I came here for."

Blaine stood up slowly, circling his desk so he may lean back against it. "And what exactly did you come here for, Kurt? Seeing as the last time I saw you, you said, and I quote, 'I'm done. I don't need this anymore. I don't need you anymore'."

"I know what I said!" Kurt snapped.

"Now, if you were, as you said, 'done', what else is there I can do for you?"

Kurt stood there, staring at his once lover, practically shaking as he panted for breath. "I just . . . you can . . . God!" He spoke through his teeth, leaning forward almost as if he were in pain. "I will beg if I have to, just . . . give me it."

"I told you when we first began you can't wait longer than a week. I thought you were smart enough to understand that."

"I was trying to quit, you asshole!" Kurt bellowed.

Blaine smirked. "And look what that's done for you."

"P-please, Blaine." Kurt nearly whispered. "I feel like I'm going to crawl out of my own skin. I-I don't need much. Just to get me by, that's all." Blaine remained silent as Kurt began to jolt, as if he body was under control of another. Then again, ever since the addiction started, it eventually stopped being his own. "Please! It feels like . . . there are thousands of bugs crawling around inside me. I can barely keep still! He's going to start to notice . . . sooner or later!"

Blaine knew who this "he" was. It was the exact same person Kurt had chosen over Blaine. Strong and amazing Dave Karofsky. He's also the one in charge of causing Kurt to lose his way and fall into the sea of addiction. After all, after his sudden discovery of his love for the medical business, the late hours and the contestant bottles prescriptions lying around the house (you know, just in case something were to happen to Kurt, he knew what to take); never once did he think Kurt could become hooked.

"Well then," Blaine said at last. "We better discuss payment."

Kurt hurried over, pulling his wallet from his pocket. "I have nearly five hundred, and I can get you more—"

"I don't want your money, Hummel." Blaine said slowly. "Or is it Karofsky, now? I can't seem to remember if I got an invite to a wedding or not."

"It's Hummel," Kurt breathed slowly, looking at him with confusedly dazed eyes. "You know what I want." Blaine told him, sensing the confusion.

Kurt swallowed, breaking their eye contact. Putting his wallet back in his pocket, he took hesitated steps before finally stopping inches away from Blaine, pulling off his jacket and shirt until his entire upper body was exposed. Lifting his hand, Kurt slowly grazed his long fingers down Blaine's leg, stopped at a sudden bulge that bad begun to grow.

"I hate you." He whispered.

Blaine lifted his hand, bringing it to Kurt's face, gently rubbing his thumb along his cold cheek. "That's what you said the first time, but it didn't stop you then, did it?"

Kurt's mouth formed a thick line as he closed his eyes, trying to keep the tears back as he blindly began to unbutton Blaine's dress-pants.

"I want the vile, first." Kurt said.

"You'll get it soon enough." Blaine tells him placing a hand firmly on his shoulder. "First, I just want to make sure your mouth is ready for it." With that said, Blaine shoved Kurt down to his knees.

Blaine always enjoyed this part of their deal; the part where Kurt puts Blaine's cock inside his mouth, sucking it dry. It took him back to the first time they had done this. Kurt was giddy and eager, so excited to give head for the first time in his young gay life. And even though he was no longer young or eager, but the need Kurt showed was still the same. The need to get exactly what he wants, no matter what.

Blaine mound deeply as Kurt licked upwards on his shaft, twisting and turning his pumping hands. He grinded his teeth gently along the head, leaving small bite marks as he went down. Blaine was happy to know he hadn't forgotten this technique, as it drove Noah crazy every time.

Rounding his fingers, Blaine gripped tightly onto Kurt's hair, tugging every now and then, causing Luke to moan. Who would've thought Kurt, who protected his hair with tons and tons of gels and sprays, would enjoy the sheer torture of it being pulled.

"Look at me, Kurt." Blaine ordered, and as demanded, Kurt lifted his gaze, staring up at the man before him.

Blaine always loved that Kurt; the small glint in Kurt's eyes that proved he wanted nothing – needed nothing – other than Blaine. Sadly, that need had been replaced with a small item not too long ago. Though that didn't stop Blaine from partly believing it was still he Kurt loved, and not what he could do for him.

Pulling off with a pop, Kurt lowered his head to nuzzle the sack with his nose, all the while continuing to jerk Blaine off with his fist. Blaine would thrust into that hand, feeling ever so close.

And before he knew it, the orgasm hit him, and he shot off back into Kurt's mouth, who had just replaced it upon to slit before he lost it. Kurt swallowed hungrily, and for a sheer second, Blaine thought that was the only drug Kurt would ever need.

"I gotta say, Hummel." Blaine panted. "I'm glad to see you haven't lost your touch."

Kurt wanted to say something, to curse him off in some way, but the moment he saw Blaine zip his pants and walk over to the picture frame against the far wall, he knew he had better keep quiet, or he may not get what he came for.

Reaching behind the picture frame which held the poster for his first film in LA, Blaine unhooked it from the wall and swung it aside, reveling the volt. Pulling the key that hung from the chain around his neck, he placed it in the lock, twisted the numbers around that followed the combination, and pushed the key it, turning it until he heard the sharp click!

And that's when Kurt's eyes nearly fell from his head. Dozens of silver liquid filled viles, just sitting there, waiting to be drank. For a second, he thought he was going to lose it, and just run over, pushing Blaine aside and taking as many as he could grab before running, but he fought it.

Pulling one out of the holder, Blaine shut the volt, twisted the numbers, and pulled out the key before finally shutting it, and once again covering it with the frame.

"This drug . . . it's a horrible thing, Mr. Hummel. Takes hell of a time to make and transport and cost more than some people's lives, but you deserved it."

Coming from behind, Blaine wrapped his arm over Kurt, holding him into himself. Kurt clutched Blaine's arm for dear life, as if he would fall without its support.

"Dip your head back." Blaine muttered. Kurt rested his head back against Blaine's shoulder, his mouth hanging open. With his free hand, Blaine uncorked the vile, and brought it to where it just grazes Kurt's bottom lip. "Remember, don't lick it. Just let it slid down your throat." As Blaine tipped the vile, all the containments slipped out and into Kurt's mouth. He did as told and let it slowly drip down until the final drop the back of his throat. "Good boy." Blaine murmured.

After a moment or two, Kurt rolled his head to the side, smiling dreamily at Blaine. His eyes began to glaze over, and a small tint of silver began to take them over.

"You always did have a great ass, Hummel." Blaine said, his hands moving downward on Kurt's body. "I can only wonder how much action you get with Dr. Dickhead."

Kurt whimpers at Blaine's touch, though he said nothing. Blaine smirked, getting his answer.

"Probably too busy with other patients to fuck his trophy boyfriend, huh?"

"Dave . . . he loves me." Kurt answered slowly.

"I loved you, yet I hurt you. Just like you did to me. And yet, here we are."

"Here we are." Kurt lazily mimicked.

". . . Maybe one of these days you won't have to get drugged up before sleep with me? It's not very flattering, you know."

Kurt giggled softly, loving how the "Venom", as Blaine called it, took over his body and made him feel any better than any other prescription drug ever could.

"As I was saying," Blaine slowly brought them to the couch, lowering Kurt down, then himself. "I bet that ass of yours only gets action, what, every few weeks? That is, unless the doctors doing the bottoming, though he doesn't struck me as the bottoming type."

"Dave's . . . Dave's. . . ."

"Shhh. I don't want his name coming from your lips any longer. The only name you'll be chanting tonight will be mine."

With that said, Blaine slowly began to undo Kurt's jeans, taking his own sweet time with the bottoms, but quickly pulled them along with his boxers down until they hit the floor and Blaine could fit between the space between Kurt's legs.

Reaching forward, Blaine traced his finger up and down the line between Kurt's cock and his hole, teasingly.

"Do you want this?" Blaine questioned, his finger stopping at the tight knot. Kurt nodded fiercely. "Tell me. Tell me you want it."

"I-I want it!" Kurt chocked out, his hunger for sex growing wilder.

Blaine smirked proudly as he pushed one finger in, then another after hearing Kurt's moan of pleasure. Kurt always did loved to get fingered. He bumped them into and out for a short while, building up Kurt's momentum until Blaine had finally had enough and unzipped his pants, licking them off long with his boxers.

"Kiss me." Blaine ordered. Blaine stared up at him. They weren't much for kissing when they had this kind of stuff. The first time there was, of course, but that was due to the sheer joy Kurt had felt and couldn't help himself. Nowadays, it was suck-drug-and fuck, with no kisses in-between. "Kiss me." Blaine repeated.

Kurt did what was told and learned forward, kissing Blaine eagerly. Kurt always did love kissing Blaine. Even in his drug-filled haze, Kurt could taste the sweet coffee Blaine had drank earlier and thought back to wall the times he had worked at Lima Bean and every kiss they shared tasted like coffee. Kurt stopped drinking it after their break up, and even once refused to kiss Dave after he had made some. He explained he felt sick and didn't want to pass it on. The truth was he didn't want to close his eyes and picture it was Blaine he was kissing; feel that ache all over again.

Blaine who couldn't take it any longer, grabbed hold of his shaft and blindly placed it against Kurt's awaiting hole, before finally, finally, thrusting into him. Kurt whimpered; his Venom glazed eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head, as his arms come to snake around Blaine's neck, pulling him closer.

For a split second, it was almost like old times; Kurt holding Blaine tight, crying out his name, as Blaine hammered into him.

"Do you like that?" Blaine whispered harshly into Kurt's hear. "Bet Dave doesn't fuck you like this?"

"No . . . Dave. Ugh!" Kurt had always been one for words, but whenever Venom and Blaine's cock were involved, he was almost left silent, except for the occasionally grunt and moan and curse words. "Fuck! So good." He swore, wrapping his legs tighter around Blaine's waist, pulling him closer.

Blaine wanted to last longer, oh God did he want to last, but when you got a drug filled willing Kurt Hummel lying out in front of you, its pretty hard to keep the cock blocked. Biting down on the skin between Kurt's shoulder and neck, Blaine released inside him, shuttering at the pleasure.

They laid there for a moment, no sound between the either of them except for their panted breaths. Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes and wanted nothing more than to kiss him. But then something inside of Kurt snapped, and his closed his eyes tightly as the tears began to roll.

Blaine sat up, sighing heavily.

"You wanted this, Kurt." He said. "Please do not put the blame on me. You came here tonight, wanting Venom, and knowing what you'd do to get it. So please, do not try and act like I forced you into an act you weren't prepared for."

Kurt shook as he bit back the urge to scream out, as if he were in pain. Sitting up, Kurt grabbed his pants and boxers off the floor, pulling them on quickly.

"I hate you. I will find away to stop. I will!" He said quickly, before rushing out of the room. As he left Blaine's home, he swore he'd find away to break his Venom addiction.

Leaning back against the couch, Blaine looked up to the ceiling, yawning tiredly.

"You'll be back," he swore. "They always come back."