Porcelain & Velvet 5/?
Author: Odd
Title: Porcelain & Velvet 5/?
Rating: NC-17 (series overall)
Word Count: 6,100
Warnings: Parent death, car crash, suicide (first part only), prostitution (entire series)
Summary: For this prompt on the kink meme. "Kurt loses his dad in High School & cannot pay for college. He meets someone who tells him about a high class brothel where he can sell his virginity & earn enough money for college over a short time…Blaine is Kurt's age, very well off…He buys Kurt's virginity." (Snipped a bit to omit potential spoilers and details that have been changed.)
Notes: Big thanks to wanderer_chan and fabrisse for helping me whip this into shape. For those who don't get the reference with a certain character's name, she's both named for and dressed as the lead in this movie.
The following Monday, Kurt barely slept. If it hadn't been for the steaming mug of hot chocolate Boo Boo had brought him around eleven, Kurt doubted he'd have gotten any sleep at all. He'd shut himself away in Ten D the moment Sue had dismissed him from their debriefing, and aside from Boo Boo's visits to deliver food and do the housekeeping, he hadn't seen another living soul. Boo Boo wasn't the most talkative person, but he was kind, and Kurt took comfort in their brief visits. They were the one thing he felt he could count on to make things feel somewhat normal, and he'd come to think of them as the best part of his day.
So used to this being his only contact, he almost didn't recognize the heavy pounding at his door Tuesday morning. Boo Boo always knocked softly, as if afraid to make himself known. This was fierce and determined, and clearly wouldn't stop until Kurt answered. "Who are you and what do you want?" he asked, unlocking the door and throwing it open after he pulled his robe over the pajamas he was wearing.
"What I want is proof that you exist," the sharp-faced girl in a tight black outfit and worn leather boots snapped at him, "and you can call me Satana." Kurt raised an eyebrow, and she gave an annoyed huff as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Like the band, but without the first n," she explained. "Now are you gonna come willingly, or am I gonna have to go Lima Heights on your ass?"
"Come where?" Kurt frowned.
"To the pool," she said exasperatedly. "To the game room. To the sauna. I don't really care where we go, I just want to prove you're really here."
"Why do you need to prove that?" Kurt asked, clinging to the door frame. "I've met plenty of the staff. Coach Sue, Rachel, Specs, Puck, Boo Boo - I've even met Pinky and Raven," he finished, sure this would be enough to appease her.
"Yeah, well, you haven't met Bubbles, and she's convinced you either don't exist, or you do, but you can only be seen by people who've answered the right series of riddles." She held up a hand and waved away the obvious question before Kurt could even ask. "She's not stupid. She just thinks differently than most people. Look, she lives in the next apartment over, and since no one but Boo Boo ever comes here and you never make any noise, she's started to wonder if he isn't using this place to keep some secret pet or something, and if he is, she wants to give it a cuddle and crochet it a sweater. I figure if I can prove you're not a puppy, I'll be doing her a favor."
Kurt blinked, clearly taken aback by her answer. "Just let me get dressed," he said, opening the door further and gesturing inside with his head. "Why don't you come in and wait. I won't be long."
"Fine," she muttered as she entered the room and gave a disinterested look around. "Are you sure Pinky didn't think he was designing a room for Raven?" she asked as she took in the wall-to-wall black. "This is totally up her alley. Minus the skulls and gargoyles and stuff. It's like...sophisticated almost. Compared to her current place, anyway." Satana walked around the room slowly, her eyes skimming over every surface and taking in every detail. "It kills me to say this," she sighed as Kurt opened the closet and pulled out some fresh clothes, "but you might actually have the most tasteful place in this joint. What's your deal, anyway?"
"My deal?" Kurt asked from the bathroom as he stripped off his robe and pajamas.
"Yeah," Satana called back from the main living space. "What's your gimmick? I'm the bad-ass girl gone wild. Raven has that whole sexy death chick thing going for her. Mercedes is the diva. Bubbles is...bubbly," she trailed, the barest hint of a smile spreading across her face. "Rachel used to be Babs-"
"Rachel used to be one of us?" Kurt interrupted after poking his head through the neck of a long-sleeved t-shirt. "I thought she was just the receptionist."
Satana gave a low chuckle and Kurt could practically hear the sneer spread across her face. "She is now. Coach has a lot of rules, and Babs broke two of the biggest. A - don't give it away for free. B - if you're dumb enough to do that, cover your bases and don't get stuck with anything."
"Are you telling me she caught some kind of disease?" Kurt asked, zipping up his jeans and emerging from the bathroom. He was wearing his own clothes, which he knew was against the rules, but he hoped no one would notice if they were both black like his issued wardrobe. It wasn't that he didn't like the clothes he'd been given - Pinky may have had a few questionable traits, but his ability to pick out clothes (for other people, Kurt assumed) seemed second to none - it was that Kurt wanted to spend as much of the day feeling like himself as possible.
"Only the most serious one you can catch," Satana said darkly, and when she caught sight of Kurt's horrified reaction, she surprised him by breaking into laughter. "Not that one," she smirked. "I'm talking about the kind that sticks around for at least nine months. Came as a huge shock to everyone," she tossed off as she perched on the edge of Kurt's bed and leaned back on her hands. "Came as an even bigger one when she hooked up with the creep and moved into his place out back. Conventional wisdom says she did it so Coach wouldn't fire her completely, but who knows?" She jerked her head in Kurt's direction and asked again, "so - you gonna tell me your deal or not?"
"Oh," Kurt said, blinking as he tried to process the new information. "I'm Porcelain," he said, feeling a flush rise in his cheeks. "Apparently, Coach Sue had thoughts of diversifying her portfolio. I'm something of an introduction, or experiment, depending on how you look at it."
"Huh," Satana nodded, her eyes narrowing. "So why haven't you had any clients yet? Experiment not working?"
"Actually," Kurt breathed, taking a seat beside her, back stiff as he stared straight ahead. "I only have one client, and our first appointment is tonight." His palms grew damp with sweat, and Kurt had to fight to remain calm through the fear that was once again threatening to surface. "Coach...auctioned me off," he said in a voice just barely above a whisper as his face flamed red. "I've never even been kissed, and tonight I'm going to meet the stranger who paid obscene amounts of money to do obscene things to me." He laughed ruefully. "How did this happen to me?"
"Same way it happens to everyone," Satana said quietly as she slid an arm around his waist and pulled him close. "Somewhere, something went wrong. I know this isn't the easiest job in the world, but it's worth it. I promise. Coach may be insane but she knows what she's doing, and she makes sure we do, too."
Kurt was taken aback by her sudden display of empathy, and he allowed himself to give in to it, resting his head against hers as he sighed deeply. "What do I do?" he asked her. "I've never even thought about doing this sort of thing beyond the abstract of how it happens. The thought of doing it with a stranger..." he trailed, feeling more than a little sick to his stomach. "I don't know if I can do it." He gave a strangled half-laugh of frustration. "I'm beginning to wonder if Julliard is worth it."
"Wait," Satana said, pulling away and raising an eyebrow. "You're going to fucking Julliard?"
"Acting," Kurt nodded. "It's all I've ever wanted to do."
"Let me break something to you," Satana explained, lifting a hand and pointing a finger in the air. "If you wanna be an actor, you're gonna have to do a lot of things you don't want to do. I'm not talking about casting couches. I'm talking about playing bananas in crowd scenes, or signing on to do crappy sitcoms that you'd never even watch if you had a choice. You're gonna have to suck it up and hang your dignity out to dry because no one just falls into some awesome part that changes lives on their first time out."
Kurt blinked. "I know all of that," he said stupidly. "It's still a big difference between playing third acorn from the left in a Thanksgiving special and letting some complete stranger have his way with me."
"Yeah," Satana said, getting up from the bed and rolling her eyes. "No one ever has to know about what happens here, but that footage of you as an acorn would follow you for the rest of your career. Come on," she huffed, holding out a hand and beckoning for him to join her. "If we get to Bubbles before lunch she won't leave a can of tuna outside your door to try and lure you out."
---
Nine hours later, Kurt stood still before the mirror, flanked on either side by Coach and Pinky as Boo Boo flitted over him with a lint brush, making sure his outfit was completely spotless and perfect. Pinky had spent an hour doing final alterations on it just before the others had arrived, with only Specs hovering in the background, recording the event per Coach Sue's orders. "How do I look?" Kurt asked, voice quavering as he stared straight ahead at his reflection. Everything was tailored down to what felt like the last millimeter, and Kurt had to admit he'd probably never looked better. The long soak he'd had in the tub earlier left his skin looking even more delicate than usual, and Raven had been in shortly after to take care of his hair. 'If this were a real date,' Kurt thought idly to himself, 'I'd be very pleased with how I look.'
"Better'n a bowl of Reese's Pieces," Pinky blurted out only to cringe when Sue gave him a sharp look.
"You'll do," she said with a toss of her hand. "You don't have my poise, but then again, who does?" She looked him up and down once more, then waved dismissively. "You remember the rules, I'll assume?"
"No clothing comes off, don't remove the blindfold, and press the bracelet if I need help," Kurt said hollowly. He flicked his eyes down to gaze at the small box attached to the leather cuff around his left wrist. The device was designed for emergency medical alerts, but Specs had reprogrammed them to send alerts to Puck's phone so he could bust up any problem customers without the girls drawing attention to themselves. It was a simple solution to what Kurt hoped was an uncommon problem, but he was happy nonetheless to have it offered.
"No names," Sue said firmly. "Nothing identifying, and that's not up for debate. I don't give the staff their roles just because it appeals to the clients' sense of novelty - though business did increase by twenty percent after that policy was implemented - but because anonymity is one of our greatest assets. Many things can be said about the way I run my business, but let it never be said that I don't keep these girls safe."
"Of course," Kurt nodded, not taking his eyes off of his own reflection. "Safe."
"Boo Boo?" Sue asked expectantly. "I think you know what to do."
"Yes, Coach," Boo Boo said quietly, sliding the clothing brush he'd been using to brush off a stray bit of lint form Kurt's shoulder. He reached into another pocket and withdrew a small silken bag, from which he removed a length of soft black velvet. 'It figures,' Kurt thought to himself with resignation as he saw Boo Boo lift the blindfold behind his head and then down in front of his eyes, cutting the world off from view. Boo Boo's fingers were rough, but careful as they smoothed the edges across Kurt's face. It almost - almost took the edge off of his nerves. Almost, but not quite.
Kurt gave a start as he felt a hand - Boo Boo's, he'd guess - on the small of his back, then another take him by the wrist as he was guided from the bathroom and into the main living quarters. "Turn around," he heard Boo Boo's voice say, and when he did he found himself standing just at the foot of his bed. "Sit down," he was told, and slowly, Kurt lowered himself to a stiff perch at the very edge. He held his back ramrod straight as he crossed his ankles and tucked them just beneath the bedskirt and folded his hands in his lap. "Can you see?" Boo Boo asked, and Kurt couldn't even force his voice as he shook his head and mouthed a silent 'no.'
"That's him," Spec's voice came from the corner seconds after his Blackberry buzzed. "Clo Clo will escort him to your quarters and he'll return to lead him out in two hours." Kurt nodded solemnly, and he could have sworn he heard Sue chuckle deep in her throat. "Don't be so afraid," Kurt heard Specs say as everyone began to leave the room. "I've been told it's not so bad." Kurt was about to ask for clarification, but the door shut before he could, and all he could do was sit there and do his best to not throw up.
---
Blaine fidgeted with his bow tie for what must have been the fiftieth time since he'd arrived. He'd been sitting in the leasing office for a good ten minutes, though he knew it was his own fault for being early. He'd been feeling an odd blend of anticipation and apprehension ever since he'd woken up the day before, and the end result had been a complete and total inability to think about anything except for this evening. There'd been an uncomfortable talk with Wes when he confronted Blaine about the way he'd been acting, and Blaine's excuse about having a blind date (which wasn't entirely a lie, he rationalized) hadn't done much to soothe Wes's suspicion. "You know I'd be happy if you found someone," he'd said while they were doing the dishes after breakfast, "but do you really think this is the right time? We aren't going to be here much longer."
"Not every blind date leads to nightly Skype sessions and weekends spent picnicking beside the lake, Wes," Blaine had said, taking a bowl from Wes's hand and wiping it dry before putting it away. "Maybe I think it would be good to find out what it's like to just go on a date with someone. You know there was never anyone but Nick, and since we were friends for so long, it was like one day we were friends and the next we were boyfriends." Blaine shrugged. "Once we're all away at school and I've gotten used to classes and living on my own and everything, I can think about meeting someone who'll make me feel the way you feel about Sunshine. Until then, I'm just going to take advantage of whatever opportunities come my way, and do my best to learn from them." His face burned at having to lie and make excuses to his best friend, but the more Blaine spoke, the more he realized how much of what he was saying was true. Blaine hadn't ever been on a real date, and he was worried about how much he had to learn.
Now, sitting in the office and waiting for his 'blind date,' Blaine couldn't stop thinking about just how underprepared he was for this whole thing. His initial plan to find someone at the brothel and gain their confidence had been quickly derailed, and Blaine wasn't sure he'd be able to get it back on track. Logic dictated this to mean he should not go through with his plans for Porcelain, but he couldn't help himself. There was something about the boy's pictures that had sent Blaine reeling, and he liked to think - wanted to think - that it was about more than just his sense of aesthetics.
"You ready?" a young man in a stained wifebeater asked as he appeared before Blaine's chair. Blaine took one look at the guy's ridiculous hair and nodded slowly. "Follow me," the guy said, turning from the room and waving for Blaine to join him. The walk was mostly silent, but once the elevator doors opened on the fourth floor, he spun around and walked backwards through the hall, speaking directly into Blaine's face. "I know Coach had Rachel send you all the ground rules and stuff, so I'm not gonna waste my time repeating them. I just want you to take a good look at this," he curled one arm, flexing his biceps to what Blaine had to admit was an impressive degree, "and this," he said, doing the same with the other, "and know that if you break any of them or do anything that makes that Porcelain dude freak, I will bring both of these down on you so hard you won't remember your own name. You got that?" he asked, resting his hand on the knob of a door that read Ten D.
"Got it," Blaine gulped, torn between being intimidated and, if he were being honest, more than a little turned on.
"Good," came the reply as the key slipped into the lock and the door opened just an inch. "Go on in and do whatever you're gonna do. I'll be back in two hours to make you leave."
Blaine swallowed thickly and took as deep a breath as he could manage before stepping past him and slipping through the door. The moment Blaine was past the door, he heard it lock and was suddenly struck with terror at the realization that it was a deadbolt, leaving him with no way out of the darkened room on his own. He knew he wasn't in any kind of danger, but simply having that level of control taken away from him had him feeling even more lost about what to do with this whole mess than he already was.
'Shit,' he thought to himself. 'Shit shit shit shit shit.' He tried turning the knob a few times, only to feel something like an idiot when, predictably enough, it remained locked. He spun around to take everything in for the first time and felt his panic increase. The room was almost pitch black; the only light came from a few strategically placed candles and what appeared to be strings of clear, white holiday lights wrapped in chiffon hung from the ceiling to surround the bed. The Bed. Blaine's pulse began to race at thoughts of what that bed was for, and he wondered for a moment what it said about him that he'd spent so much time taking in his strange surroundings that he'd managed to almost miss the slim figure perched at the edge of the bed.
'Porcelain,' Blaine thought to himself as his eyes took him in. The first thing Blaine noticed was how much paler he was than Blaine had really expected. The pictures had been in black and white, and Blaine had been more than a little convinced that they'd been altered to play up the paleness of his skin. Here in the flesh, however, Blaine was almost in shock at how accurate they'd been.
Blaine walked in a slow half-circle around the foot of the bed, taking him in from as many angles as possible. He was long-limbed and taller than Blaine would have guessed; a few inches taller than himself from the looks of it. His hair was a fairly unspectacular shade of brown, but it was thicker than Blaine's and looked incredibly soft. Blaine made his way to the foot of the bed, just inches from where Porcelain sat, and leaned in to take a breath just above his ear. He smelled amazing, and Blaine was just trying to put a name to the different elements when the voice broke him from his fog.
"Buyer's remorse?"
"No," Blaine said stupidly, blinking his eyes in surprise. "Why would you think that?"
"You've been in the room for at least five minutes and you haven't said or done a thing."
Porcelain's voice was soft and breathy; higher in pitch than Blaine was used to hearing from another boy. Coming from most guys, Blaine probably would have found it a little ridiculous. From Porcelain's lips, however, it seemed a perfect fit.
"I wanted to look at you," Blaine said quietly.
"I think that's within the guidelines," Porcelain said stiffly, and for the first time, Blaine really began to think about how this must all seem from his perspective. How discomforting it must be to know that a complete stranger not only bought your virginity, but went above and beyond to acquire even more of your time. A sick feeling began to form in the pit of Blaine's stomach as he thought about what might have happened if someone else had won the auction. There was no end to the depravity that could have been conducted within the limits of the contract he'd been given (and the contract was very detailed, indeed). Porcelain had no way of knowing what Blaine intended to do with him, and there was no reason for him not to expect the worst.
"Would a dance be acceptable?" Blaine asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"I don't think so," Porcelain said in response. "No clothes are supposed to come off before-"
"No," Blaine rushed to say. "I didn't mean that kind of dance." He offered his hand, then remembered Porcelain couldn't see him. "May I have your hand?" he asked evenly, and after the briefest hesitation, a pale hand rose and moved forward to seek him out. Blaine took it in his, doing his best to ignore how damp it was and gave just enough of a tug to urge its owner to his feet. "Here," he said, sliding his other arm around the boy's waist and taking a few steps back. "This kind of dance."
"There's no music," Porcelain said, brow furrowing.
"Then make some." Blaine pressed his hand a little more firmly against the small of Porcelain's back. "I'll lead."
Porcelain's chest rose and fell a few times as he pursed his lips. Blaine could just see the tip of his tongue poke out to sweep between his lips, and he was just about to tell him it was okay, that they didn't have to do this, when the singing began.
"Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they are here to stay. Oh, I believe in yesterday…"
Blaine felt a strange twisting in his stomach, and he had to fight to keep in time as he led Porcelain around a small patch of the floor. He hadn't known what he'd expected when he suggested Porcelain sing, but a plaintive ballad of longing and regret hadn't been it. His voice was lovely. Bright and clear, but filled with a kind of emotion Blaine had never heard from someone so young. 'What brought you here?' he found himself thinking as he looked up at him. Every word was so thick and heavy with meaning, and the way his voice seemed to take the slightest of quavers on certain lines made it clear that whatever it was that had sent driven him to this place, it must have been even worse than Blaine had imagined.
"I'm not sure that's allowed," Porcelain whispered, and it was with no small amount of shock that Blaine realized he'd tilted upward to brush a kiss against a pale cheek that now glowed fairly pink.
"No clothing came off," he said carefully, not wanting to take his lips away from the warm skin. "But I apologize if it made you uncomfortable." He allowed himself one more press of the lips - just so he could be aware of the feel this time - and pulled away.
"It's okay," Porcelain whispered, and Blaine gave a small sigh of relief. "We could dance some more, if you like."
"Okay," Blaine answered, coming close and taking him in his arms again, gently swaying in silence. "Would you like to sing something else?" he asked, but Porcelain shook his head. "That's fine," Blaine murmured, fighting the urge to rest his head against his shoulder. "We don’t need any music if you don't want any." It was harder to fall into a rhythm without something to guide them but they managed it. After a few minutes, they were spinning and twirling around the room. Blaine said a silent thanks for the blindfold, since it meant he could grin as hugely and stupidly as he wanted without worrying about looking like a dork. "Is this okay?" he asked.
"It's fine," came the soft reply. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course," Blaine answered, eyes wide and ready to say yes to just about anything.
"Why are we doing this?" Blaine just blinked, and when he didn't answer, Porcelain was quick to follow up. "You could have had me by now," he said in a small voice. "Why drag it out?"
Blaine swallowed and did his best to think of something that might make sense, but wouldn't sound more horrible than the truth (which sounded pretty bad all on its own). "I wanted to make you comfortable first," he finally said. "I don't think either of us will enjoy ourselves if we don't work our way up to it, and I wanted it to be worth remembering." He felt vaguely sick as he spoke, not sure if he sounded more creepy or reassuring. Without thinking, he lurched forward and captured Porcelain's ear between his lips. He did his best to not focus on the soft cry that resulted, and forced his voice to remain steady as he whispered against it. "As tight as security is on this place, I'd bet the rooms are bugged. I don't want them to see or hear anything that could make things hard for you. When I do this," he broke off, licking a hot stripe up Porcelain's jaw, "it means that you can trust me. It'll look like I'm reminding you of our arrangement, if they have a camera hidden. I wasn't expecting you when I found this place. I couldn't stand the thought of you falling prey to some sicko if I could stop it. I don't want to hurt you. I only want to help." It was hard to gauge Porcelain's response without being able to see his eyes, but the way he came in closer while remaining stiff led Blaine to believe he'd been taken at his word, even if with reservation.
"You thought dancing would make me comfortable?" he asked after a moment's silence.
"I thought-" Blaine broke off, scrambling for a logical explanation. "You were advertised as untouched, so I thought it would be smart to begin with that. Dancing is a good way to get used to the feel of someone else's body. How it feels to have someone so close," he said, swiveling his hips as he came closer, just brushing against him. "How to move against them. How to make them move against you." His breath caught in his throat, and he leaned in to lick his jaw again. "Can I touch you?" he whispered softly. He felt Porcelain's body stiffen again in his arms. "Not in those places," he was quick to add, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the head beside him begin to nod.
"You are stunning," he breathed as he stepped back and carefully rested his hands on Porcelain's shoulders. They were smooth and firm, and once again, Blaine had to fight the urge to rest his head against one. "You must be very picky, if you haven't allowed anyone to touch you before. I'm pleased to have won the honor." He slid his hands down the boy's chest, stopping just high enough to take hold of his waist and pull him close. He tried to tell himself that his heart was beating because he was nervous about letting his initial reason for finding the brothel slip. It was because he hadn't touched another boy like this since he and Nick had broken up that fall. It was because he was lonely. It was because he missed his mom. He tried a dozen excuses, but none could hide that there was only one reason, and that reason was because this boy was not like any he'd ever met before. It wasn't the losses in Blaine's life that led him here. It wasn't his need for revenge. It wasn't even about wanting so desperately to save him - and how he'll manage that, Blaine wasn't even sure. It was about finding someone Blaine now suspected was not only the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen, but also one who might be even more broken than him.
---
"You are stunning."
The words echoed in Kurt's head long after Puck had shown up to escort Velvet out. There was something about the way he'd said them that sent Kurt reeling and without an anchor. There was hunger in them, along with something Kurt was fairly sure might even be awe. More than anything though, they'd held a sense of honest confession. Kurt wasn't exactly sure what Velvet's intentions with him really were. To further complicate things, he wasn't sure Velvet really knew, either.
'Velvet,' he thought to himself from under the thick duvet covering his bed. He wasn't sure where the name had come from, but he thought it might suit the man who hid behind it. True, Kurt had no idea what he looked like, save the fact that he was a few inches shorter and seemed to be in good shape, but the things Kurt had been able to gather spoke louder than anything else. There was a kind of warmth to his voice and the way he'd brought Kurt in, along with a sort of casual elegance and grace. In a way he reminded Kurt of certain classmates he'd had back at Spencer. The ones who'd come from wealthy families with names that graced the various buildings, but still had their feet firmly enough on the ground that you couldn't help but be put at ease.
And then, of course, there was the matter of his touch. When he'd asked Kurt if he could touch him, Kurt hadn't known quite what to think or how to act. He'd never been on the receiving end of much physical contact outside of his family. The closest he'd ever come to any kind of romantic contact was the odd bro-hug from Finn, and there were so many reasons why he didn't want to think about that he couldn't even begin to count.
When Velvet's hands had moved over him, it had felt like revelation. True to his word, he didn't touch Kurt in any of those places, but he touched him in plenty of others. Now, lying in his bed hours later, Kurt found himself following the same paths with his own hands, reliving the earlier moments. He started with his neck, lightly stroking from the left side to just below his right jaw, shivering lightly as the skin tingled beneath his fingertips. He'd audibly gasped when Velvet had touched him there earlier, and he had to fight to not respond more than he did.
From his neck, he moved down to his arms, running his hands slowly up and down them as he wondered what it would have felt like if, when Velvet had touched them earlier, it had been without the fabric of his shirt between them. That thought remained as he explored further. His chest, his stomach, his calves - all began to feel much more alive as his hands sought them out, and through it all, there was the thought of Velvet's hands doing it instead of his own. When he reached his ribs, he sucked in a sharp breath and felt his body quiver.
His whole body felt so different than it ever had before, and Kurt wasn't sure if this was entirely because of the way Velvet's hands had felt earlier, or simply the fact that Kurt had never felt wanted before. Desired. There was a certain eroticism in the idea, and Kurt clung to it as he began to venture into areas Velvet hadn't touched. He pointedly avoided his cock for as long as he could stand it, and by the time he finally gave himself permission to wrap his hand around it and stroke urgently, he had to fight to keep from coming too soon. He stopped and started, forcing himself to breathe deeply and stretch the activity out as long as possible. 'So this is why people do this,' he thought idly, arching upward as he reached one hand to tease a nipple and sucked in another breath.
Moments later, he turned his head and shook against the velvet bolster pillow behind his neck. He mouthed aimlessly at the thick fabric, imagining its namesake in its place and wondering what their next meeting would leave him with.
( Move on to part six)
Track Stats
Title: Porcelain & Velvet 5/?
Rating: NC-17 (series overall)
Word Count: 6,100
Warnings: Parent death, car crash, suicide (first part only), prostitution (entire series)
Summary: For this prompt on the kink meme. "Kurt loses his dad in High School & cannot pay for college. He meets someone who tells him about a high class brothel where he can sell his virginity & earn enough money for college over a short time…Blaine is Kurt's age, very well off…He buys Kurt's virginity." (Snipped a bit to omit potential spoilers and details that have been changed.)
Notes: Big thanks to wanderer_chan and fabrisse for helping me whip this into shape. For those who don't get the reference with a certain character's name, she's both named for and dressed as the lead in this movie.
The following Monday, Kurt barely slept. If it hadn't been for the steaming mug of hot chocolate Boo Boo had brought him around eleven, Kurt doubted he'd have gotten any sleep at all. He'd shut himself away in Ten D the moment Sue had dismissed him from their debriefing, and aside from Boo Boo's visits to deliver food and do the housekeeping, he hadn't seen another living soul. Boo Boo wasn't the most talkative person, but he was kind, and Kurt took comfort in their brief visits. They were the one thing he felt he could count on to make things feel somewhat normal, and he'd come to think of them as the best part of his day.
So used to this being his only contact, he almost didn't recognize the heavy pounding at his door Tuesday morning. Boo Boo always knocked softly, as if afraid to make himself known. This was fierce and determined, and clearly wouldn't stop until Kurt answered. "Who are you and what do you want?" he asked, unlocking the door and throwing it open after he pulled his robe over the pajamas he was wearing.
"What I want is proof that you exist," the sharp-faced girl in a tight black outfit and worn leather boots snapped at him, "and you can call me Satana." Kurt raised an eyebrow, and she gave an annoyed huff as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Like the band, but without the first n," she explained. "Now are you gonna come willingly, or am I gonna have to go Lima Heights on your ass?"
"Come where?" Kurt frowned.
"To the pool," she said exasperatedly. "To the game room. To the sauna. I don't really care where we go, I just want to prove you're really here."
"Why do you need to prove that?" Kurt asked, clinging to the door frame. "I've met plenty of the staff. Coach Sue, Rachel, Specs, Puck, Boo Boo - I've even met Pinky and Raven," he finished, sure this would be enough to appease her.
"Yeah, well, you haven't met Bubbles, and she's convinced you either don't exist, or you do, but you can only be seen by people who've answered the right series of riddles." She held up a hand and waved away the obvious question before Kurt could even ask. "She's not stupid. She just thinks differently than most people. Look, she lives in the next apartment over, and since no one but Boo Boo ever comes here and you never make any noise, she's started to wonder if he isn't using this place to keep some secret pet or something, and if he is, she wants to give it a cuddle and crochet it a sweater. I figure if I can prove you're not a puppy, I'll be doing her a favor."
Kurt blinked, clearly taken aback by her answer. "Just let me get dressed," he said, opening the door further and gesturing inside with his head. "Why don't you come in and wait. I won't be long."
"Fine," she muttered as she entered the room and gave a disinterested look around. "Are you sure Pinky didn't think he was designing a room for Raven?" she asked as she took in the wall-to-wall black. "This is totally up her alley. Minus the skulls and gargoyles and stuff. It's like...sophisticated almost. Compared to her current place, anyway." Satana walked around the room slowly, her eyes skimming over every surface and taking in every detail. "It kills me to say this," she sighed as Kurt opened the closet and pulled out some fresh clothes, "but you might actually have the most tasteful place in this joint. What's your deal, anyway?"
"My deal?" Kurt asked from the bathroom as he stripped off his robe and pajamas.
"Yeah," Satana called back from the main living space. "What's your gimmick? I'm the bad-ass girl gone wild. Raven has that whole sexy death chick thing going for her. Mercedes is the diva. Bubbles is...bubbly," she trailed, the barest hint of a smile spreading across her face. "Rachel used to be Babs-"
"Rachel used to be one of us?" Kurt interrupted after poking his head through the neck of a long-sleeved t-shirt. "I thought she was just the receptionist."
Satana gave a low chuckle and Kurt could practically hear the sneer spread across her face. "She is now. Coach has a lot of rules, and Babs broke two of the biggest. A - don't give it away for free. B - if you're dumb enough to do that, cover your bases and don't get stuck with anything."
"Are you telling me she caught some kind of disease?" Kurt asked, zipping up his jeans and emerging from the bathroom. He was wearing his own clothes, which he knew was against the rules, but he hoped no one would notice if they were both black like his issued wardrobe. It wasn't that he didn't like the clothes he'd been given - Pinky may have had a few questionable traits, but his ability to pick out clothes (for other people, Kurt assumed) seemed second to none - it was that Kurt wanted to spend as much of the day feeling like himself as possible.
"Only the most serious one you can catch," Satana said darkly, and when she caught sight of Kurt's horrified reaction, she surprised him by breaking into laughter. "Not that one," she smirked. "I'm talking about the kind that sticks around for at least nine months. Came as a huge shock to everyone," she tossed off as she perched on the edge of Kurt's bed and leaned back on her hands. "Came as an even bigger one when she hooked up with the creep and moved into his place out back. Conventional wisdom says she did it so Coach wouldn't fire her completely, but who knows?" She jerked her head in Kurt's direction and asked again, "so - you gonna tell me your deal or not?"
"Oh," Kurt said, blinking as he tried to process the new information. "I'm Porcelain," he said, feeling a flush rise in his cheeks. "Apparently, Coach Sue had thoughts of diversifying her portfolio. I'm something of an introduction, or experiment, depending on how you look at it."
"Huh," Satana nodded, her eyes narrowing. "So why haven't you had any clients yet? Experiment not working?"
"Actually," Kurt breathed, taking a seat beside her, back stiff as he stared straight ahead. "I only have one client, and our first appointment is tonight." His palms grew damp with sweat, and Kurt had to fight to remain calm through the fear that was once again threatening to surface. "Coach...auctioned me off," he said in a voice just barely above a whisper as his face flamed red. "I've never even been kissed, and tonight I'm going to meet the stranger who paid obscene amounts of money to do obscene things to me." He laughed ruefully. "How did this happen to me?"
"Same way it happens to everyone," Satana said quietly as she slid an arm around his waist and pulled him close. "Somewhere, something went wrong. I know this isn't the easiest job in the world, but it's worth it. I promise. Coach may be insane but she knows what she's doing, and she makes sure we do, too."
Kurt was taken aback by her sudden display of empathy, and he allowed himself to give in to it, resting his head against hers as he sighed deeply. "What do I do?" he asked her. "I've never even thought about doing this sort of thing beyond the abstract of how it happens. The thought of doing it with a stranger..." he trailed, feeling more than a little sick to his stomach. "I don't know if I can do it." He gave a strangled half-laugh of frustration. "I'm beginning to wonder if Julliard is worth it."
"Wait," Satana said, pulling away and raising an eyebrow. "You're going to fucking Julliard?"
"Acting," Kurt nodded. "It's all I've ever wanted to do."
"Let me break something to you," Satana explained, lifting a hand and pointing a finger in the air. "If you wanna be an actor, you're gonna have to do a lot of things you don't want to do. I'm not talking about casting couches. I'm talking about playing bananas in crowd scenes, or signing on to do crappy sitcoms that you'd never even watch if you had a choice. You're gonna have to suck it up and hang your dignity out to dry because no one just falls into some awesome part that changes lives on their first time out."
Kurt blinked. "I know all of that," he said stupidly. "It's still a big difference between playing third acorn from the left in a Thanksgiving special and letting some complete stranger have his way with me."
"Yeah," Satana said, getting up from the bed and rolling her eyes. "No one ever has to know about what happens here, but that footage of you as an acorn would follow you for the rest of your career. Come on," she huffed, holding out a hand and beckoning for him to join her. "If we get to Bubbles before lunch she won't leave a can of tuna outside your door to try and lure you out."
---
Nine hours later, Kurt stood still before the mirror, flanked on either side by Coach and Pinky as Boo Boo flitted over him with a lint brush, making sure his outfit was completely spotless and perfect. Pinky had spent an hour doing final alterations on it just before the others had arrived, with only Specs hovering in the background, recording the event per Coach Sue's orders. "How do I look?" Kurt asked, voice quavering as he stared straight ahead at his reflection. Everything was tailored down to what felt like the last millimeter, and Kurt had to admit he'd probably never looked better. The long soak he'd had in the tub earlier left his skin looking even more delicate than usual, and Raven had been in shortly after to take care of his hair. 'If this were a real date,' Kurt thought idly to himself, 'I'd be very pleased with how I look.'
"Better'n a bowl of Reese's Pieces," Pinky blurted out only to cringe when Sue gave him a sharp look.
"You'll do," she said with a toss of her hand. "You don't have my poise, but then again, who does?" She looked him up and down once more, then waved dismissively. "You remember the rules, I'll assume?"
"No clothing comes off, don't remove the blindfold, and press the bracelet if I need help," Kurt said hollowly. He flicked his eyes down to gaze at the small box attached to the leather cuff around his left wrist. The device was designed for emergency medical alerts, but Specs had reprogrammed them to send alerts to Puck's phone so he could bust up any problem customers without the girls drawing attention to themselves. It was a simple solution to what Kurt hoped was an uncommon problem, but he was happy nonetheless to have it offered.
"No names," Sue said firmly. "Nothing identifying, and that's not up for debate. I don't give the staff their roles just because it appeals to the clients' sense of novelty - though business did increase by twenty percent after that policy was implemented - but because anonymity is one of our greatest assets. Many things can be said about the way I run my business, but let it never be said that I don't keep these girls safe."
"Of course," Kurt nodded, not taking his eyes off of his own reflection. "Safe."
"Boo Boo?" Sue asked expectantly. "I think you know what to do."
"Yes, Coach," Boo Boo said quietly, sliding the clothing brush he'd been using to brush off a stray bit of lint form Kurt's shoulder. He reached into another pocket and withdrew a small silken bag, from which he removed a length of soft black velvet. 'It figures,' Kurt thought to himself with resignation as he saw Boo Boo lift the blindfold behind his head and then down in front of his eyes, cutting the world off from view. Boo Boo's fingers were rough, but careful as they smoothed the edges across Kurt's face. It almost - almost took the edge off of his nerves. Almost, but not quite.
Kurt gave a start as he felt a hand - Boo Boo's, he'd guess - on the small of his back, then another take him by the wrist as he was guided from the bathroom and into the main living quarters. "Turn around," he heard Boo Boo's voice say, and when he did he found himself standing just at the foot of his bed. "Sit down," he was told, and slowly, Kurt lowered himself to a stiff perch at the very edge. He held his back ramrod straight as he crossed his ankles and tucked them just beneath the bedskirt and folded his hands in his lap. "Can you see?" Boo Boo asked, and Kurt couldn't even force his voice as he shook his head and mouthed a silent 'no.'
"That's him," Spec's voice came from the corner seconds after his Blackberry buzzed. "Clo Clo will escort him to your quarters and he'll return to lead him out in two hours." Kurt nodded solemnly, and he could have sworn he heard Sue chuckle deep in her throat. "Don't be so afraid," Kurt heard Specs say as everyone began to leave the room. "I've been told it's not so bad." Kurt was about to ask for clarification, but the door shut before he could, and all he could do was sit there and do his best to not throw up.
---
Blaine fidgeted with his bow tie for what must have been the fiftieth time since he'd arrived. He'd been sitting in the leasing office for a good ten minutes, though he knew it was his own fault for being early. He'd been feeling an odd blend of anticipation and apprehension ever since he'd woken up the day before, and the end result had been a complete and total inability to think about anything except for this evening. There'd been an uncomfortable talk with Wes when he confronted Blaine about the way he'd been acting, and Blaine's excuse about having a blind date (which wasn't entirely a lie, he rationalized) hadn't done much to soothe Wes's suspicion. "You know I'd be happy if you found someone," he'd said while they were doing the dishes after breakfast, "but do you really think this is the right time? We aren't going to be here much longer."
"Not every blind date leads to nightly Skype sessions and weekends spent picnicking beside the lake, Wes," Blaine had said, taking a bowl from Wes's hand and wiping it dry before putting it away. "Maybe I think it would be good to find out what it's like to just go on a date with someone. You know there was never anyone but Nick, and since we were friends for so long, it was like one day we were friends and the next we were boyfriends." Blaine shrugged. "Once we're all away at school and I've gotten used to classes and living on my own and everything, I can think about meeting someone who'll make me feel the way you feel about Sunshine. Until then, I'm just going to take advantage of whatever opportunities come my way, and do my best to learn from them." His face burned at having to lie and make excuses to his best friend, but the more Blaine spoke, the more he realized how much of what he was saying was true. Blaine hadn't ever been on a real date, and he was worried about how much he had to learn.
Now, sitting in the office and waiting for his 'blind date,' Blaine couldn't stop thinking about just how underprepared he was for this whole thing. His initial plan to find someone at the brothel and gain their confidence had been quickly derailed, and Blaine wasn't sure he'd be able to get it back on track. Logic dictated this to mean he should not go through with his plans for Porcelain, but he couldn't help himself. There was something about the boy's pictures that had sent Blaine reeling, and he liked to think - wanted to think - that it was about more than just his sense of aesthetics.
"You ready?" a young man in a stained wifebeater asked as he appeared before Blaine's chair. Blaine took one look at the guy's ridiculous hair and nodded slowly. "Follow me," the guy said, turning from the room and waving for Blaine to join him. The walk was mostly silent, but once the elevator doors opened on the fourth floor, he spun around and walked backwards through the hall, speaking directly into Blaine's face. "I know Coach had Rachel send you all the ground rules and stuff, so I'm not gonna waste my time repeating them. I just want you to take a good look at this," he curled one arm, flexing his biceps to what Blaine had to admit was an impressive degree, "and this," he said, doing the same with the other, "and know that if you break any of them or do anything that makes that Porcelain dude freak, I will bring both of these down on you so hard you won't remember your own name. You got that?" he asked, resting his hand on the knob of a door that read Ten D.
"Got it," Blaine gulped, torn between being intimidated and, if he were being honest, more than a little turned on.
"Good," came the reply as the key slipped into the lock and the door opened just an inch. "Go on in and do whatever you're gonna do. I'll be back in two hours to make you leave."
Blaine swallowed thickly and took as deep a breath as he could manage before stepping past him and slipping through the door. The moment Blaine was past the door, he heard it lock and was suddenly struck with terror at the realization that it was a deadbolt, leaving him with no way out of the darkened room on his own. He knew he wasn't in any kind of danger, but simply having that level of control taken away from him had him feeling even more lost about what to do with this whole mess than he already was.
'Shit,' he thought to himself. 'Shit shit shit shit shit.' He tried turning the knob a few times, only to feel something like an idiot when, predictably enough, it remained locked. He spun around to take everything in for the first time and felt his panic increase. The room was almost pitch black; the only light came from a few strategically placed candles and what appeared to be strings of clear, white holiday lights wrapped in chiffon hung from the ceiling to surround the bed. The Bed. Blaine's pulse began to race at thoughts of what that bed was for, and he wondered for a moment what it said about him that he'd spent so much time taking in his strange surroundings that he'd managed to almost miss the slim figure perched at the edge of the bed.
'Porcelain,' Blaine thought to himself as his eyes took him in. The first thing Blaine noticed was how much paler he was than Blaine had really expected. The pictures had been in black and white, and Blaine had been more than a little convinced that they'd been altered to play up the paleness of his skin. Here in the flesh, however, Blaine was almost in shock at how accurate they'd been.
Blaine walked in a slow half-circle around the foot of the bed, taking him in from as many angles as possible. He was long-limbed and taller than Blaine would have guessed; a few inches taller than himself from the looks of it. His hair was a fairly unspectacular shade of brown, but it was thicker than Blaine's and looked incredibly soft. Blaine made his way to the foot of the bed, just inches from where Porcelain sat, and leaned in to take a breath just above his ear. He smelled amazing, and Blaine was just trying to put a name to the different elements when the voice broke him from his fog.
"Buyer's remorse?"
"No," Blaine said stupidly, blinking his eyes in surprise. "Why would you think that?"
"You've been in the room for at least five minutes and you haven't said or done a thing."
Porcelain's voice was soft and breathy; higher in pitch than Blaine was used to hearing from another boy. Coming from most guys, Blaine probably would have found it a little ridiculous. From Porcelain's lips, however, it seemed a perfect fit.
"I wanted to look at you," Blaine said quietly.
"I think that's within the guidelines," Porcelain said stiffly, and for the first time, Blaine really began to think about how this must all seem from his perspective. How discomforting it must be to know that a complete stranger not only bought your virginity, but went above and beyond to acquire even more of your time. A sick feeling began to form in the pit of Blaine's stomach as he thought about what might have happened if someone else had won the auction. There was no end to the depravity that could have been conducted within the limits of the contract he'd been given (and the contract was very detailed, indeed). Porcelain had no way of knowing what Blaine intended to do with him, and there was no reason for him not to expect the worst.
"Would a dance be acceptable?" Blaine asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"I don't think so," Porcelain said in response. "No clothes are supposed to come off before-"
"No," Blaine rushed to say. "I didn't mean that kind of dance." He offered his hand, then remembered Porcelain couldn't see him. "May I have your hand?" he asked evenly, and after the briefest hesitation, a pale hand rose and moved forward to seek him out. Blaine took it in his, doing his best to ignore how damp it was and gave just enough of a tug to urge its owner to his feet. "Here," he said, sliding his other arm around the boy's waist and taking a few steps back. "This kind of dance."
"There's no music," Porcelain said, brow furrowing.
"Then make some." Blaine pressed his hand a little more firmly against the small of Porcelain's back. "I'll lead."
Porcelain's chest rose and fell a few times as he pursed his lips. Blaine could just see the tip of his tongue poke out to sweep between his lips, and he was just about to tell him it was okay, that they didn't have to do this, when the singing began.
"Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they are here to stay. Oh, I believe in yesterday…"
Blaine felt a strange twisting in his stomach, and he had to fight to keep in time as he led Porcelain around a small patch of the floor. He hadn't known what he'd expected when he suggested Porcelain sing, but a plaintive ballad of longing and regret hadn't been it. His voice was lovely. Bright and clear, but filled with a kind of emotion Blaine had never heard from someone so young. 'What brought you here?' he found himself thinking as he looked up at him. Every word was so thick and heavy with meaning, and the way his voice seemed to take the slightest of quavers on certain lines made it clear that whatever it was that had sent driven him to this place, it must have been even worse than Blaine had imagined.
"I'm not sure that's allowed," Porcelain whispered, and it was with no small amount of shock that Blaine realized he'd tilted upward to brush a kiss against a pale cheek that now glowed fairly pink.
"No clothing came off," he said carefully, not wanting to take his lips away from the warm skin. "But I apologize if it made you uncomfortable." He allowed himself one more press of the lips - just so he could be aware of the feel this time - and pulled away.
"It's okay," Porcelain whispered, and Blaine gave a small sigh of relief. "We could dance some more, if you like."
"Okay," Blaine answered, coming close and taking him in his arms again, gently swaying in silence. "Would you like to sing something else?" he asked, but Porcelain shook his head. "That's fine," Blaine murmured, fighting the urge to rest his head against his shoulder. "We don’t need any music if you don't want any." It was harder to fall into a rhythm without something to guide them but they managed it. After a few minutes, they were spinning and twirling around the room. Blaine said a silent thanks for the blindfold, since it meant he could grin as hugely and stupidly as he wanted without worrying about looking like a dork. "Is this okay?" he asked.
"It's fine," came the soft reply. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course," Blaine answered, eyes wide and ready to say yes to just about anything.
"Why are we doing this?" Blaine just blinked, and when he didn't answer, Porcelain was quick to follow up. "You could have had me by now," he said in a small voice. "Why drag it out?"
Blaine swallowed and did his best to think of something that might make sense, but wouldn't sound more horrible than the truth (which sounded pretty bad all on its own). "I wanted to make you comfortable first," he finally said. "I don't think either of us will enjoy ourselves if we don't work our way up to it, and I wanted it to be worth remembering." He felt vaguely sick as he spoke, not sure if he sounded more creepy or reassuring. Without thinking, he lurched forward and captured Porcelain's ear between his lips. He did his best to not focus on the soft cry that resulted, and forced his voice to remain steady as he whispered against it. "As tight as security is on this place, I'd bet the rooms are bugged. I don't want them to see or hear anything that could make things hard for you. When I do this," he broke off, licking a hot stripe up Porcelain's jaw, "it means that you can trust me. It'll look like I'm reminding you of our arrangement, if they have a camera hidden. I wasn't expecting you when I found this place. I couldn't stand the thought of you falling prey to some sicko if I could stop it. I don't want to hurt you. I only want to help." It was hard to gauge Porcelain's response without being able to see his eyes, but the way he came in closer while remaining stiff led Blaine to believe he'd been taken at his word, even if with reservation.
"You thought dancing would make me comfortable?" he asked after a moment's silence.
"I thought-" Blaine broke off, scrambling for a logical explanation. "You were advertised as untouched, so I thought it would be smart to begin with that. Dancing is a good way to get used to the feel of someone else's body. How it feels to have someone so close," he said, swiveling his hips as he came closer, just brushing against him. "How to move against them. How to make them move against you." His breath caught in his throat, and he leaned in to lick his jaw again. "Can I touch you?" he whispered softly. He felt Porcelain's body stiffen again in his arms. "Not in those places," he was quick to add, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the head beside him begin to nod.
"You are stunning," he breathed as he stepped back and carefully rested his hands on Porcelain's shoulders. They were smooth and firm, and once again, Blaine had to fight the urge to rest his head against one. "You must be very picky, if you haven't allowed anyone to touch you before. I'm pleased to have won the honor." He slid his hands down the boy's chest, stopping just high enough to take hold of his waist and pull him close. He tried to tell himself that his heart was beating because he was nervous about letting his initial reason for finding the brothel slip. It was because he hadn't touched another boy like this since he and Nick had broken up that fall. It was because he was lonely. It was because he missed his mom. He tried a dozen excuses, but none could hide that there was only one reason, and that reason was because this boy was not like any he'd ever met before. It wasn't the losses in Blaine's life that led him here. It wasn't his need for revenge. It wasn't even about wanting so desperately to save him - and how he'll manage that, Blaine wasn't even sure. It was about finding someone Blaine now suspected was not only the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen, but also one who might be even more broken than him.
---
"You are stunning."
The words echoed in Kurt's head long after Puck had shown up to escort Velvet out. There was something about the way he'd said them that sent Kurt reeling and without an anchor. There was hunger in them, along with something Kurt was fairly sure might even be awe. More than anything though, they'd held a sense of honest confession. Kurt wasn't exactly sure what Velvet's intentions with him really were. To further complicate things, he wasn't sure Velvet really knew, either.
'Velvet,' he thought to himself from under the thick duvet covering his bed. He wasn't sure where the name had come from, but he thought it might suit the man who hid behind it. True, Kurt had no idea what he looked like, save the fact that he was a few inches shorter and seemed to be in good shape, but the things Kurt had been able to gather spoke louder than anything else. There was a kind of warmth to his voice and the way he'd brought Kurt in, along with a sort of casual elegance and grace. In a way he reminded Kurt of certain classmates he'd had back at Spencer. The ones who'd come from wealthy families with names that graced the various buildings, but still had their feet firmly enough on the ground that you couldn't help but be put at ease.
And then, of course, there was the matter of his touch. When he'd asked Kurt if he could touch him, Kurt hadn't known quite what to think or how to act. He'd never been on the receiving end of much physical contact outside of his family. The closest he'd ever come to any kind of romantic contact was the odd bro-hug from Finn, and there were so many reasons why he didn't want to think about that he couldn't even begin to count.
When Velvet's hands had moved over him, it had felt like revelation. True to his word, he didn't touch Kurt in any of those places, but he touched him in plenty of others. Now, lying in his bed hours later, Kurt found himself following the same paths with his own hands, reliving the earlier moments. He started with his neck, lightly stroking from the left side to just below his right jaw, shivering lightly as the skin tingled beneath his fingertips. He'd audibly gasped when Velvet had touched him there earlier, and he had to fight to not respond more than he did.
From his neck, he moved down to his arms, running his hands slowly up and down them as he wondered what it would have felt like if, when Velvet had touched them earlier, it had been without the fabric of his shirt between them. That thought remained as he explored further. His chest, his stomach, his calves - all began to feel much more alive as his hands sought them out, and through it all, there was the thought of Velvet's hands doing it instead of his own. When he reached his ribs, he sucked in a sharp breath and felt his body quiver.
His whole body felt so different than it ever had before, and Kurt wasn't sure if this was entirely because of the way Velvet's hands had felt earlier, or simply the fact that Kurt had never felt wanted before. Desired. There was a certain eroticism in the idea, and Kurt clung to it as he began to venture into areas Velvet hadn't touched. He pointedly avoided his cock for as long as he could stand it, and by the time he finally gave himself permission to wrap his hand around it and stroke urgently, he had to fight to keep from coming too soon. He stopped and started, forcing himself to breathe deeply and stretch the activity out as long as possible. 'So this is why people do this,' he thought idly, arching upward as he reached one hand to tease a nipple and sucked in another breath.
Moments later, he turned his head and shook against the velvet bolster pillow behind his neck. He mouthed aimlessly at the thick fabric, imagining its namesake in its place and wondering what their next meeting would leave him with.
( Move on to part six)
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