Porcelain & Velvet 10/11
Author: Odd
Title: Porcelain & Velvet 10/11
Rating: NC-17 (series overall)
Word Count: 5,000
Warnings: Car crash (first part only), suicide and talk thereof, off-screen character death, prostitution
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, as well as foranotherworld and flyblckbirdfly, for being my secret-keepers. I know I said ten would be the last, but it turned out to need a lot more words than anticipated. We’re in the home stretch though. Promise. <3
Part one can be found here
Kurt's heart was still beating hard in his chest when he felt Rachel's hand on his shoulder. "Come on," he heard her say, and he turned with her to once again head down the hall and toward the elevator.
As they made the trip back to Ten D in silence, Kurt was hyper-aware of the absence of Rachel's usual chatter; he was genuinely surprised to find her still in the room a couple of minutes later when he took off his blindfold. "You're still here," he said, blinking his eyes as they readjusted to the light. "Shouldn't you get back home? I know you're usually off by now."
"Mercedes is watching Stevie," she said simply. "She's performing a one-woman version of 'Dreamgirls' for him. He's been looking forward to it all week." She gave a little shake of her head and smiled. "Her Effie is amazing. Jennifer Hudson has nothing on her."
Kurt nodded slowly. "Right." He paused and took in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out as slowly as he could manage. "So…"
"Why do you want to go through with it?" Rachel asked, both saving him from the task of ending an awkward silence and making things more awkward at the same time. "You don't need the money anymore, and you have to know that Coach wouldn't force you to take a different client. She likes you too much. Besides, she's smart enough to know that if she did reach out to the next in line, he'd have questions about what happened to change things. Especially after all this time. It would look pretty suspicious, don't you think?"
Kurt hadn't thought about it. Not from that angle, anyway. Still, having it laid out like that for him, it did make an awful lot of sense. "You really think if I hadn't come in, Sue wouldn't have made me…with someone else?"
"Not for a second," Rachel said, stepping over to the bed. "Wait -" she broke off. "Is this where you just…?" Kurt shook her head and she gave him a conspiratorial grin as she smoothed her skirt beneath her and took a seat. "Come on. Dish. It's just us girls, here." She winced and shook her head. "Sorry. Force of habit. I wasn't trying to imply that you were anything less than manly, I meant-"
"I know what you meant," Kurt said, taking a seat beside her and patting her knee. "It's okay. I used to call my nightly talks with Finn 'ladychats.'" Rachel laughed, and he found himself smiling at the memories. "I miss him."
"What was he like?"
Kurt mulled it over for a minute. "He was more complicated than I think most people gave him credit for. He wasn't the smartest guy, or the most talented. He could be very cruel, but I think it seemed so remarkable because he tried so hard to be a good person. He didn't always succeed, but he never gave up, and his apologies were usually more impressive than his failings." He sighed and leaned back on his hands. "I think you would have liked him. He could sing, too, but he never really did much of it outside of the car or games of Rock Band. He had a lot of good qualities, though an appreciation for show tunes sadly wasn't one of them."
"I'm sure I would have loved him," Rachel smiled, resting her head on his shoulder.
"In another world, I'm sure you do," Kurt sighed. "Rachel?" he asked quietly. She made a small hrm? in response and Kurt screwed up his eyes and courage before asking the question that had been nagging him for a while. "How important do you think looks are when it comes to falling in love?"
Rachel shot up and gave him an angry look. "Look, I know Jacob isn't Taylor Lautner, but that doesn't mean I don't lo-"
"That's not what I meant," Kurt protested, cowering a little. "I meant…can you love someone without knowing what they look like?"
"Velvet?" Rachel asked, eyes widening when Kurt nodded. "You really did start it, didn't you?" He nodded again, and she shook her head for a second as if trying to get everything in her head to fall back into place. "Wow. Okay. Well…no. Not because looks are everything, but because I think that when you love someone, you paint a picture of them in your heart. It doesn't matter what anyone else sees because all that matters is what's in your heart." Her cheeks flushed, and Kurt was reminded of how she'd been that night at her house. "Take Jacob. I know he's not exactly the dashing leading man most would expect a woman like me to embrace, but I don't see him the way everyone else does."
"How do you know?" Kurt asked.
"Because I didn't always see him the way I do now," she said simply, a mysterious smile on her lips. "It took a long time for that to happen, but I don't think either one of us regrets it. I know I don't. I needed time to be ready for him, and I think he needed some, too."
"I'm sure," Kurt murmured, taking his blindfold in both hands and twisting it in his lap. "I don't know if I'm ready for what I'm feeling," he confessed. "But if I don't do this, I'm never going to know. I don't really know anything about him, but I know I want that I want to know."
"That's a lot of knowing," Rachel said, placing a hand over his and patting reassuringly. "But you'll figure it out. We all do, eventually." She paused, a small frown overtaking her lips. "Just promise me you won't put any pressure on yourself to figure everything out at once. I remember how it felt to think everything had to go directly according to plan and that everything would fall apart if even one thing went wrong."
"How did you get over it?" Kurt asked, genuinely wanting to know.
"Everything fell apart," she said, the mysterious look once again taking over. "And then it put itself back together better than I ever could have expected." Kurt's eyes locked on hers, and she gave him a quick wink before taking him in her arms and stroking one of them up and down his back. "I'm beginning to think you're closer to getting over it than you realize."
---
"Are you sure about this?"
Blaine threw the pair of socks he'd just balled up into the corner of his suitcase and looked up with exasperation. "I told you about this weeks ago," he said before picking up two matching black and white argyles and doing the same with them. "This was always the plan. Don't sit there and pretend it's anything new."
"I didn't say it was new," Wes said calmly. "I just wanted to know if you'd really thought it through at this time. You've been through a lot lately, and I don't think I'd be a very good friend if I didn't express concern that doing this at this point in time might be too much, too fast."
"Wes," Blaine sighed, shoving the suitcase to the side and resting beside it on the bed. "I have to leave sometime. Doing it Sunday means I can go straight to the airport after…everything."
"Blaine," Wes sighed, shaking his head as he paced before the window. "Do you really think you're going to be in a good frame of mind for traveling? I know how you feel about this guy, and I can't see you casually hopping onto a plane hours after having an entire night with him."
"That's why I need to do it this way," Blaine said. "Unless I know there's a distance between us, I won't be able to end things. I'll want to keep coming back and-" He sighed. "That can't happen. School starts in a month. I'll use the extra time to figure things out. Get my bearings. Find a new pizza place," he said, forcing a smile. "Maybe you can visit me before the Ivy League claims you as one of their own. I'll even order a double sausage. Bring Sunshine. I have a guest room. It's not huge, but it's a decent enough size and I hired your mom's friend to decorate the place so-"
"We broke up," Wes said, neither his face or tone showing anything but his usual unflappable demeanor.
"What?" Blaine asked, bracing an arm against the mattress to keep from falling off. "When? Why? Why didn't you tell me?"
"A couple of days ago," Wes said simply as he sat beside Blaine. "We had a long talk about our futures and where we saw them going and…" he shook his head. "I had to be honest with her. I love Sunshine, but I don't see her when I picture my future. With me in Massachusetts and her here, it doesn't seem fair to stay together if I know it isn't going anywhere. I'm going to miss her, but we both deserve the chance to find people who want to walk the same path." He reached out and slung an arm around Blaine's shoulders. "We all deserve that chance."
"Wes?"
"Yes, Blaine?"
"You're about as subtle as a monkey in a fez."
"Monkeys are delightful creatures, and the fez has a long and fascinating history."
"Wes?"
"Yes, Blaine?"
"Never change."
---
Kurt poked at his French toast with disinterest. It wasn't bad - it was actually his favorite breakfast - but the thoughts racing through his head made it hard for him to enjoy it as much as usual. Not even the fresh strawberries and whipped cream were enough to garner his undivided attention and that was really saying something.
"What's wrong?" Bubbles asked from her spot across the table. "Did you see a bug on one of your strawberries? That happened to me once. That was before we had Boo Boo though. He's really good about making sure everything is clean."
"No bugs," he said, both relieved and disgusted.
"Then what is it?" she asked, spearing one of his berries with her fork and scooping up a hefty dollop of cream. "What?" she asked when his eyes shot down to his plate and up to her fork. "It'll just go to waste if you don't eat it. I'm not like, one of those starving children in Azeroth, but I figure it's better if I eat it than if it just gets thrown away."
Kurt shook his head and fought the urge to ask where Azeroth even was. He had a strong suspicion the answer would be more confusing than the question. "You're right," he said, pushing the plate toward her. "Help yourself."
Bubbles took a large bite and chewed intently as she stared at him, eyes wide and questioning. "I-" Kurt began, then stopped as he slumped against his seat and crossed his arms against his chest. "I'm uncomfortable."
Bubbles swallowed and began to nod her head. "Then you should change your clothes. Last time I was uncomfortable, it was because I had my bra on backwards. Fixing that really helped."
"No," Kurt said, trying to rid himself of the mental image. "I mean," he sighed, frowning as he did his best to think of a way to say what he was feeling. "Do you know what they did to my room while I was away?" he asked, and when she nodded, he continued, "I don't like my room as much since they did it. My last appointment with Velvet is tomorrow night, and the thought of someone hearing or..." He winced. "…recording it feels wrong." He shook his head. "Something like that should be private. No matter how it came about."
Bubbles finished his French toast and as she took a noisy slurp of her strawberry milkshake, Kurt found himself grinning at the fact that she always requested one with breakfast. He would miss that, he realized. He was going to miss a lot of things about this place. A lot of people. He remembered Puck's words about family being more than DNA, and for the first time in far too long, he found himself feeling fortunate. He'd lost more than he could ever fully recover from, but he'd also gained more than he ever would have guessed the night Sam had told him about this place.
"What?" Bubbles asked, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin as Kurt laughed softly to himself.
"Nothing," he told her as Boo Boo suddenly appeared to take their dirty dishes away. "Just thinking about how funny life can be."
---
"Thank you for helping me with this," Kurt said, draping one last garment bag across the backseat of his Navigator. "It's so strange to think that this time tomorrow, I'll be almost out of Ohio."
"No problem," Puck said, cramming a box into the trunk. "S'what I'm here for."
"Still appreciated," Kurt said, the tips of his fingers inside his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels.
"I know," Puck said as he walked over and offered a fist. "I just want you to know I got your back."
"Thanks," Kurt said quietly as he formed a fist of his own and bumped his knuckles against Puck's. "Same. If there's ever anything I can do for you..."
"Keep in touch with Stevie?" Puck asked, throwing Kurt for a loop. "He thinks you're the greatest thing since Judy Garland. You think you could, like, Skype with him? Maybe send him some postcards or something when he's a little older?"
"Yeah," Kurt breathed as another piece fell into place inside his head. "Of course. He's a cute kid."
"The cutest," Puck laughed, a huge smile spreading across his cheeks beneath the heavy look in his eyes. "Gets that from his mom."
Kurt nodded slowly as he took the whole thing in. "He does look a lot like her," he admitted quietly. "But he has his father's smile."
Puck's eyes shot up to meet Kurt's, dark and glinting with anger for less than a second before his face crumpled and everything gave way. "Let's hope he's a better man," he said solemnly as he turned away to hide his eyes.
"I don't know," Kurt mused. "I think his dad's a better person than he might give himself credit for."
Puck looked back at him for a second before taking the keys and turning away. "Thanks."
"For what?" Kurt asked innocently.
"That," Puck said, lightly punching the car's roof as he turned and walked away.
---
Blaine took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds as he gave himself a final once-over in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of Wes's closet door. With every article of clothing he'd packed away while preparing for his move, he'd thought about what he would wear tonight. It felt foolish to spend so much time thinking about clothing that was meant to spend most of its time on the floor, but tonight was going to be about more than that. Truth be told, Blaine wasn't even sure he still wanted to go through with that part of the deal. Sure, parts of him did, but other parts had thoughts and ideas of their own.
Like what Porcelain would think when he saw him.
Blaine thought he probably had the same level of insecurity most guys his age had, but he knew he wasn't bad-looking. He was short, yeah, and slighter than he'd have liked despite hours spent boxing and trying to develop strength, but he was still in good shape. He'd never really had issues with breakouts, and if there was one thing boarding school had taught him, it was that an awful lot of boys his age smelled much, much worse.
He looked okay, he thought, looking at his reflection and smoothing his hands over the pockets of his grey pants. His outfit wasn't anything spectacular; the white polo and black loafers were nondescript, even if the shirt fit well enough. He'd thrown on his favorite black and grey argyle sweater vest in an effort to look a bit more pulled together without looking like he was trying too hard, and he hoped the overall effect would come off more hip than humorless.
He wasn't sure he was dressed appropriately, but if there was a dress code for going to a brothel to have sex with a virginal prostitute who'd stolen your heart, Blaine knew for a fact he hadn't been informed of it.
---
Kurt stared at his reflection and felt a lump form in his throat as he fingered the delicate lace of the cravat that wrapped around it. He was torn between feelings of pride and embarrassment as he looked in the mirror at the outfit Pinky had whisked in to him a few minutes earlier. The velvet frock coat nipped in tightly at his waist, and the matching trousers were trim enough that they fit easily inside the high boots Pinky was lacing tightly up Kurt's calves. Kurt was honest enough to admit he wasn't completely unattractive, but now, looking at himself in the strange clothes, he thought for the first time that he could understand how Velvet might find him desirable.
"I always did like licorice," Pinky murmured as he pulled Kurt's laces taut and tied the loose ends of the knot behind the tongue. "Shame Sue doesn't pay me well enough to have bid on you. I might have cashed in my 401K, if I had one." Kurt wrinkled his face in disgust before he could help himself, and Pinky shook his head derisively. "You could have done much worse than me. Believe me - I saw some of the other contenders. I probably shouldn't tell you this," he said, standing up and far too close for Kurt's comfort. "But one of them was a local celebrity."
"Who?" Kurt asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
"Well," Pinky said, obviously pleased as punch to have some dirt to dish. "I can't tell you outright, but I can tell you he's better known for an alter ego who sucks…well, something other than what you'll be sucking in about an hour, hour and a half, tops. Came as quite a surprise. I would have thought Raven was more his type."
Kurt fit the pieces together in his head and shuddered. "Can I ask you something?" he asked, trying to change the subject.
"Yes, I am single, and yes, I have a prescription for Viagra."
"Not...that," Kurt said, trying not to let his revulsion show. "I've always wondered; did you make my uniforms? They've all been amazing, but they're so different from how you dress that-"
"Some," Pinky interrupted. "The more basic things. Shirts, couple pairs of pants. One or two of your vests."
"Then where did the rest come from?" Kurt asked, genuinely wanting to know. As much as part of him never wanted to wear black again, the larger part knew himself far too well to think that would ever seriously be an option.
Pinky gave him a withering look and shook his head. "Where all good things come from, dear boy. Catalogs."
"Right," Kurt said, nodding slowly. "How could I be so foolish?"
"Many are," Pinky sighed, wincing as he rose from his knees. "If you'll excuse me, I think there's a bath full of Epsom salts and a cup of Lemon Zinger with my name on them."
Kurt nodded, waving hello as Boo Boo entered the room immediately after Pinky's departure. "I guess this is good-bye," Kurt told him.
Boo Boo nodded and reached into his cart to pull out the kind of reusable shopping bag commonly found at grocery checkout lines. "I brought you some snacks for your drive."
Kurt took the bag and peered in to find some bottled water, a few apples, a box of his favorite crackers, and a small assortment of candy. "Thank you," he said, looking up from the bag with genuine affection in his eyes. "This was very thoughtful."
"You don't have to thank me," Boo Boo said, a flush rising in his cheeks as he looked down at the Velcro straps of his sneakers.
"Oh, Boo Boo," Kurt said, stepping over to give Boo Boo a hug, the bag still hanging from his wrist. "I'm going to miss you." He took a breath as he pulled away and sighed heavily. "Can I tell you a secret?"
"If you want to," Boo Boo answered.
"I'm scared," Kurt said quietly. "I've never done this before and I…I don't know what I'm doing."
"I've never done that either," Boo Boo said, "but most of the girls say it's okay. I'm sure you'll be okay."
"Maybe," Kurt said, taking a seat at the edge of his bed.
Boo Boo's face brightened, and he positively beamed as he looked at Kurt. "I have one more present for you," he said conspiratorially. "Look in the bag."
Kurt's brow furrowed as he sifted through the bag and removed the contents. "What the..?" he asked, lifting a small, black box.
"It's the power supply for the receiver," Boo Boo said, his already doughy face puffing up with pride.
Kurt's eyes widened. "How did you…?"
"I stole it when I was vacuuming the cottage. Rachel was busy with Stevie and Specs was in the office with Sue."
Kurt shook his head, still amazed at what it meant. "But won't they know something's wrong?"
Boo Boo shook his head. "Specs told Rachel he wasn't going to put the speaker on. He said he would record it for Sue if she told him to, but he wasn't going to listen."
"What about Sue?" Kurt asked, sudden panic taking hold.
Boo Boo smiled at him. "Sue never listens, either. She says the clients sound like howler monkeys and it gives her flashbacks of her last tour of duty." He pointed at the little box again. "The receiver's backup battery should last long enough to make him think it's working, but it won't last more than an hour." He shrugged. "Maybe two. Not long. He won't know unless he decides to check on you, and if he does-"
"-it'll be too late," Kurt supplied breathlessly as he threw his arms around the man beside him. "I don't know how I can ever thank you."
"Well," Boo Boo said thoughtfully, "you could let me use you as a reference when I look for another job."
---
Blaine held tight to the steering wheel and took a deep breath. One by one, he tried to count off the things he had to look forward to past eleven the next morning. There was his new apartment, for one. He'd spared no expense in decorating it, and secretly, he liked to think it resembled something Don Draper would have found suitable.
Then there was school. He'd gotten into his top three choices, and picking which one to go to hadn't taken a lot of effort. He smiled for a moment as he remembered the night his parents had taken him out for dinner to celebrate. How happy his mom had looked. How much pride had shone in his father's eyes when he'd lifted a glass to toast his son's success. He'd even let Blaine have some champagne of his own, saying he'd more than earned it, and deserved to be treated like the promising young man he'd always known his son to be.
Before he knew what had hit him, Blaine felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. "How did we go so wrong?" he asked himself under his breath. "We were so happy." He reached out to punch at his steering wheel and fell back against his headrest, groaning as he stared up through the sunroof. "Everything sucks," he muttered to himself, admitting that though starting school and moving into his swingin' bachelor pad were exciting, the thrill would likely wear off before too long. He'd lost his family, lost his home, and now that he was leaving the Lee house, he had no idea when he'd see his best friend again.
This was not the kind of mood he wanted to be in before his final time with Porcelain.
Porcelain.
Porcelain.
"What kind of goober falls in love with someone named Porcelain?" Blaine asked no one in particular as he lolled his head against the rest. He knew that wasn't his real name - no parent could be that cruel, could they? - but it was the only name he was likely to know. Why hadn't he asked when he'd had the chance? He wondered what Porcelain's name might be. It was probably something very elegant. Julian. Ethan. Tristan. Yeah. Something like that.
He was pulled from his daydreams by a fist banging against the glass as Clo Clo suddenly appeared outside his car. "Dude. Are you gonna sit here and hum to yourself all night, or are you gonna go on up there and get the hummer you paid for?"
"You really do cut to the chase, don’t you?" Blaine asked, shaking his head as he undid his seat belt.
Clo Clo frowned. "Only chasing I do is skirts. Only I don’t, because they usually chase me."
"Cha-" Blaine began in the split second it took him to process what Clo Clo was saying. "Never mind. I'm coming up."
"I must be stupid or something," Clo Clo said a minute later, "because see, I kind of assumed that when you said you were coming up you meant now."
"Well," Blaine said warily, "you need to stop leaning on my door first."
Clo Clo stiffened as he stepped away. "Mention this again, and my fist meets your mouth."
"Kinky," Blaine said before he could help himself, then raced toward the entrance doors before Clo Clo could register what he'd said.
---
Kurt stood at the window and stared at the thick drapes that covered it. Velvet would be there soon, and the temptation to pull back the coverings and watch for his arrival was almost too strong to bear. As much as Kurt wanted to know about this strange young man who'd come into his life, he also knew that every scrap of information he gathered would only make things harder.
It was going to be hard enough.
The Beatles were already fairly ruined for him, because he knew he'd never be able to think of his favorites without remembering the times he'd sung them here in this room. He couldn't imagine how difficult it would be to handle knowing something like what kind of car Velvet drove. Every time Kurt saw one like it, he'd imagine a warm body that felt good beneath his hands and smelled of cedar and spice. Every. Single. Time.
He couldn't do that to himself.
He just couldn't.
---
Blaine was halfway down the hall to Ten D when he realized he'd been holding his breath since Clo Clo had caught up to him and led him to the elevator. This was it. He had one last chance to turn around and say he wasn't going to go through with it. To leave without saying good-bye to his mysterious boy who'd turned his world upside down and made his heart ache and swell in equal measure.
It was more tempting than he wanted to admit.
Part Eleven
Stats Meter
Title: Porcelain & Velvet 10/11
Rating: NC-17 (series overall)
Word Count: 5,000
Warnings: Car crash (first part only), suicide and talk thereof, off-screen character death, prostitution
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, as well as foranotherworld and flyblckbirdfly, for being my secret-keepers. I know I said ten would be the last, but it turned out to need a lot more words than anticipated. We’re in the home stretch though. Promise. <3
Part one can be found here
Kurt's heart was still beating hard in his chest when he felt Rachel's hand on his shoulder. "Come on," he heard her say, and he turned with her to once again head down the hall and toward the elevator.
As they made the trip back to Ten D in silence, Kurt was hyper-aware of the absence of Rachel's usual chatter; he was genuinely surprised to find her still in the room a couple of minutes later when he took off his blindfold. "You're still here," he said, blinking his eyes as they readjusted to the light. "Shouldn't you get back home? I know you're usually off by now."
"Mercedes is watching Stevie," she said simply. "She's performing a one-woman version of 'Dreamgirls' for him. He's been looking forward to it all week." She gave a little shake of her head and smiled. "Her Effie is amazing. Jennifer Hudson has nothing on her."
Kurt nodded slowly. "Right." He paused and took in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out as slowly as he could manage. "So…"
"Why do you want to go through with it?" Rachel asked, both saving him from the task of ending an awkward silence and making things more awkward at the same time. "You don't need the money anymore, and you have to know that Coach wouldn't force you to take a different client. She likes you too much. Besides, she's smart enough to know that if she did reach out to the next in line, he'd have questions about what happened to change things. Especially after all this time. It would look pretty suspicious, don't you think?"
Kurt hadn't thought about it. Not from that angle, anyway. Still, having it laid out like that for him, it did make an awful lot of sense. "You really think if I hadn't come in, Sue wouldn't have made me…with someone else?"
"Not for a second," Rachel said, stepping over to the bed. "Wait -" she broke off. "Is this where you just…?" Kurt shook her head and she gave him a conspiratorial grin as she smoothed her skirt beneath her and took a seat. "Come on. Dish. It's just us girls, here." She winced and shook her head. "Sorry. Force of habit. I wasn't trying to imply that you were anything less than manly, I meant-"
"I know what you meant," Kurt said, taking a seat beside her and patting her knee. "It's okay. I used to call my nightly talks with Finn 'ladychats.'" Rachel laughed, and he found himself smiling at the memories. "I miss him."
"What was he like?"
Kurt mulled it over for a minute. "He was more complicated than I think most people gave him credit for. He wasn't the smartest guy, or the most talented. He could be very cruel, but I think it seemed so remarkable because he tried so hard to be a good person. He didn't always succeed, but he never gave up, and his apologies were usually more impressive than his failings." He sighed and leaned back on his hands. "I think you would have liked him. He could sing, too, but he never really did much of it outside of the car or games of Rock Band. He had a lot of good qualities, though an appreciation for show tunes sadly wasn't one of them."
"I'm sure I would have loved him," Rachel smiled, resting her head on his shoulder.
"In another world, I'm sure you do," Kurt sighed. "Rachel?" he asked quietly. She made a small hrm? in response and Kurt screwed up his eyes and courage before asking the question that had been nagging him for a while. "How important do you think looks are when it comes to falling in love?"
Rachel shot up and gave him an angry look. "Look, I know Jacob isn't Taylor Lautner, but that doesn't mean I don't lo-"
"That's not what I meant," Kurt protested, cowering a little. "I meant…can you love someone without knowing what they look like?"
"Velvet?" Rachel asked, eyes widening when Kurt nodded. "You really did start it, didn't you?" He nodded again, and she shook her head for a second as if trying to get everything in her head to fall back into place. "Wow. Okay. Well…no. Not because looks are everything, but because I think that when you love someone, you paint a picture of them in your heart. It doesn't matter what anyone else sees because all that matters is what's in your heart." Her cheeks flushed, and Kurt was reminded of how she'd been that night at her house. "Take Jacob. I know he's not exactly the dashing leading man most would expect a woman like me to embrace, but I don't see him the way everyone else does."
"How do you know?" Kurt asked.
"Because I didn't always see him the way I do now," she said simply, a mysterious smile on her lips. "It took a long time for that to happen, but I don't think either one of us regrets it. I know I don't. I needed time to be ready for him, and I think he needed some, too."
"I'm sure," Kurt murmured, taking his blindfold in both hands and twisting it in his lap. "I don't know if I'm ready for what I'm feeling," he confessed. "But if I don't do this, I'm never going to know. I don't really know anything about him, but I know I want that I want to know."
"That's a lot of knowing," Rachel said, placing a hand over his and patting reassuringly. "But you'll figure it out. We all do, eventually." She paused, a small frown overtaking her lips. "Just promise me you won't put any pressure on yourself to figure everything out at once. I remember how it felt to think everything had to go directly according to plan and that everything would fall apart if even one thing went wrong."
"How did you get over it?" Kurt asked, genuinely wanting to know.
"Everything fell apart," she said, the mysterious look once again taking over. "And then it put itself back together better than I ever could have expected." Kurt's eyes locked on hers, and she gave him a quick wink before taking him in her arms and stroking one of them up and down his back. "I'm beginning to think you're closer to getting over it than you realize."
---
"Are you sure about this?"
Blaine threw the pair of socks he'd just balled up into the corner of his suitcase and looked up with exasperation. "I told you about this weeks ago," he said before picking up two matching black and white argyles and doing the same with them. "This was always the plan. Don't sit there and pretend it's anything new."
"I didn't say it was new," Wes said calmly. "I just wanted to know if you'd really thought it through at this time. You've been through a lot lately, and I don't think I'd be a very good friend if I didn't express concern that doing this at this point in time might be too much, too fast."
"Wes," Blaine sighed, shoving the suitcase to the side and resting beside it on the bed. "I have to leave sometime. Doing it Sunday means I can go straight to the airport after…everything."
"Blaine," Wes sighed, shaking his head as he paced before the window. "Do you really think you're going to be in a good frame of mind for traveling? I know how you feel about this guy, and I can't see you casually hopping onto a plane hours after having an entire night with him."
"That's why I need to do it this way," Blaine said. "Unless I know there's a distance between us, I won't be able to end things. I'll want to keep coming back and-" He sighed. "That can't happen. School starts in a month. I'll use the extra time to figure things out. Get my bearings. Find a new pizza place," he said, forcing a smile. "Maybe you can visit me before the Ivy League claims you as one of their own. I'll even order a double sausage. Bring Sunshine. I have a guest room. It's not huge, but it's a decent enough size and I hired your mom's friend to decorate the place so-"
"We broke up," Wes said, neither his face or tone showing anything but his usual unflappable demeanor.
"What?" Blaine asked, bracing an arm against the mattress to keep from falling off. "When? Why? Why didn't you tell me?"
"A couple of days ago," Wes said simply as he sat beside Blaine. "We had a long talk about our futures and where we saw them going and…" he shook his head. "I had to be honest with her. I love Sunshine, but I don't see her when I picture my future. With me in Massachusetts and her here, it doesn't seem fair to stay together if I know it isn't going anywhere. I'm going to miss her, but we both deserve the chance to find people who want to walk the same path." He reached out and slung an arm around Blaine's shoulders. "We all deserve that chance."
"Wes?"
"Yes, Blaine?"
"You're about as subtle as a monkey in a fez."
"Monkeys are delightful creatures, and the fez has a long and fascinating history."
"Wes?"
"Yes, Blaine?"
"Never change."
---
Kurt poked at his French toast with disinterest. It wasn't bad - it was actually his favorite breakfast - but the thoughts racing through his head made it hard for him to enjoy it as much as usual. Not even the fresh strawberries and whipped cream were enough to garner his undivided attention and that was really saying something.
"What's wrong?" Bubbles asked from her spot across the table. "Did you see a bug on one of your strawberries? That happened to me once. That was before we had Boo Boo though. He's really good about making sure everything is clean."
"No bugs," he said, both relieved and disgusted.
"Then what is it?" she asked, spearing one of his berries with her fork and scooping up a hefty dollop of cream. "What?" she asked when his eyes shot down to his plate and up to her fork. "It'll just go to waste if you don't eat it. I'm not like, one of those starving children in Azeroth, but I figure it's better if I eat it than if it just gets thrown away."
Kurt shook his head and fought the urge to ask where Azeroth even was. He had a strong suspicion the answer would be more confusing than the question. "You're right," he said, pushing the plate toward her. "Help yourself."
Bubbles took a large bite and chewed intently as she stared at him, eyes wide and questioning. "I-" Kurt began, then stopped as he slumped against his seat and crossed his arms against his chest. "I'm uncomfortable."
Bubbles swallowed and began to nod her head. "Then you should change your clothes. Last time I was uncomfortable, it was because I had my bra on backwards. Fixing that really helped."
"No," Kurt said, trying to rid himself of the mental image. "I mean," he sighed, frowning as he did his best to think of a way to say what he was feeling. "Do you know what they did to my room while I was away?" he asked, and when she nodded, he continued, "I don't like my room as much since they did it. My last appointment with Velvet is tomorrow night, and the thought of someone hearing or..." He winced. "…recording it feels wrong." He shook his head. "Something like that should be private. No matter how it came about."
Bubbles finished his French toast and as she took a noisy slurp of her strawberry milkshake, Kurt found himself grinning at the fact that she always requested one with breakfast. He would miss that, he realized. He was going to miss a lot of things about this place. A lot of people. He remembered Puck's words about family being more than DNA, and for the first time in far too long, he found himself feeling fortunate. He'd lost more than he could ever fully recover from, but he'd also gained more than he ever would have guessed the night Sam had told him about this place.
"What?" Bubbles asked, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin as Kurt laughed softly to himself.
"Nothing," he told her as Boo Boo suddenly appeared to take their dirty dishes away. "Just thinking about how funny life can be."
---
"Thank you for helping me with this," Kurt said, draping one last garment bag across the backseat of his Navigator. "It's so strange to think that this time tomorrow, I'll be almost out of Ohio."
"No problem," Puck said, cramming a box into the trunk. "S'what I'm here for."
"Still appreciated," Kurt said, the tips of his fingers inside his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels.
"I know," Puck said as he walked over and offered a fist. "I just want you to know I got your back."
"Thanks," Kurt said quietly as he formed a fist of his own and bumped his knuckles against Puck's. "Same. If there's ever anything I can do for you..."
"Keep in touch with Stevie?" Puck asked, throwing Kurt for a loop. "He thinks you're the greatest thing since Judy Garland. You think you could, like, Skype with him? Maybe send him some postcards or something when he's a little older?"
"Yeah," Kurt breathed as another piece fell into place inside his head. "Of course. He's a cute kid."
"The cutest," Puck laughed, a huge smile spreading across his cheeks beneath the heavy look in his eyes. "Gets that from his mom."
Kurt nodded slowly as he took the whole thing in. "He does look a lot like her," he admitted quietly. "But he has his father's smile."
Puck's eyes shot up to meet Kurt's, dark and glinting with anger for less than a second before his face crumpled and everything gave way. "Let's hope he's a better man," he said solemnly as he turned away to hide his eyes.
"I don't know," Kurt mused. "I think his dad's a better person than he might give himself credit for."
Puck looked back at him for a second before taking the keys and turning away. "Thanks."
"For what?" Kurt asked innocently.
"That," Puck said, lightly punching the car's roof as he turned and walked away.
---
Blaine took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds as he gave himself a final once-over in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of Wes's closet door. With every article of clothing he'd packed away while preparing for his move, he'd thought about what he would wear tonight. It felt foolish to spend so much time thinking about clothing that was meant to spend most of its time on the floor, but tonight was going to be about more than that. Truth be told, Blaine wasn't even sure he still wanted to go through with that part of the deal. Sure, parts of him did, but other parts had thoughts and ideas of their own.
Like what Porcelain would think when he saw him.
Blaine thought he probably had the same level of insecurity most guys his age had, but he knew he wasn't bad-looking. He was short, yeah, and slighter than he'd have liked despite hours spent boxing and trying to develop strength, but he was still in good shape. He'd never really had issues with breakouts, and if there was one thing boarding school had taught him, it was that an awful lot of boys his age smelled much, much worse.
He looked okay, he thought, looking at his reflection and smoothing his hands over the pockets of his grey pants. His outfit wasn't anything spectacular; the white polo and black loafers were nondescript, even if the shirt fit well enough. He'd thrown on his favorite black and grey argyle sweater vest in an effort to look a bit more pulled together without looking like he was trying too hard, and he hoped the overall effect would come off more hip than humorless.
He wasn't sure he was dressed appropriately, but if there was a dress code for going to a brothel to have sex with a virginal prostitute who'd stolen your heart, Blaine knew for a fact he hadn't been informed of it.
---
Kurt stared at his reflection and felt a lump form in his throat as he fingered the delicate lace of the cravat that wrapped around it. He was torn between feelings of pride and embarrassment as he looked in the mirror at the outfit Pinky had whisked in to him a few minutes earlier. The velvet frock coat nipped in tightly at his waist, and the matching trousers were trim enough that they fit easily inside the high boots Pinky was lacing tightly up Kurt's calves. Kurt was honest enough to admit he wasn't completely unattractive, but now, looking at himself in the strange clothes, he thought for the first time that he could understand how Velvet might find him desirable.
"I always did like licorice," Pinky murmured as he pulled Kurt's laces taut and tied the loose ends of the knot behind the tongue. "Shame Sue doesn't pay me well enough to have bid on you. I might have cashed in my 401K, if I had one." Kurt wrinkled his face in disgust before he could help himself, and Pinky shook his head derisively. "You could have done much worse than me. Believe me - I saw some of the other contenders. I probably shouldn't tell you this," he said, standing up and far too close for Kurt's comfort. "But one of them was a local celebrity."
"Who?" Kurt asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
"Well," Pinky said, obviously pleased as punch to have some dirt to dish. "I can't tell you outright, but I can tell you he's better known for an alter ego who sucks…well, something other than what you'll be sucking in about an hour, hour and a half, tops. Came as quite a surprise. I would have thought Raven was more his type."
Kurt fit the pieces together in his head and shuddered. "Can I ask you something?" he asked, trying to change the subject.
"Yes, I am single, and yes, I have a prescription for Viagra."
"Not...that," Kurt said, trying not to let his revulsion show. "I've always wondered; did you make my uniforms? They've all been amazing, but they're so different from how you dress that-"
"Some," Pinky interrupted. "The more basic things. Shirts, couple pairs of pants. One or two of your vests."
"Then where did the rest come from?" Kurt asked, genuinely wanting to know. As much as part of him never wanted to wear black again, the larger part knew himself far too well to think that would ever seriously be an option.
Pinky gave him a withering look and shook his head. "Where all good things come from, dear boy. Catalogs."
"Right," Kurt said, nodding slowly. "How could I be so foolish?"
"Many are," Pinky sighed, wincing as he rose from his knees. "If you'll excuse me, I think there's a bath full of Epsom salts and a cup of Lemon Zinger with my name on them."
Kurt nodded, waving hello as Boo Boo entered the room immediately after Pinky's departure. "I guess this is good-bye," Kurt told him.
Boo Boo nodded and reached into his cart to pull out the kind of reusable shopping bag commonly found at grocery checkout lines. "I brought you some snacks for your drive."
Kurt took the bag and peered in to find some bottled water, a few apples, a box of his favorite crackers, and a small assortment of candy. "Thank you," he said, looking up from the bag with genuine affection in his eyes. "This was very thoughtful."
"You don't have to thank me," Boo Boo said, a flush rising in his cheeks as he looked down at the Velcro straps of his sneakers.
"Oh, Boo Boo," Kurt said, stepping over to give Boo Boo a hug, the bag still hanging from his wrist. "I'm going to miss you." He took a breath as he pulled away and sighed heavily. "Can I tell you a secret?"
"If you want to," Boo Boo answered.
"I'm scared," Kurt said quietly. "I've never done this before and I…I don't know what I'm doing."
"I've never done that either," Boo Boo said, "but most of the girls say it's okay. I'm sure you'll be okay."
"Maybe," Kurt said, taking a seat at the edge of his bed.
Boo Boo's face brightened, and he positively beamed as he looked at Kurt. "I have one more present for you," he said conspiratorially. "Look in the bag."
Kurt's brow furrowed as he sifted through the bag and removed the contents. "What the..?" he asked, lifting a small, black box.
"It's the power supply for the receiver," Boo Boo said, his already doughy face puffing up with pride.
Kurt's eyes widened. "How did you…?"
"I stole it when I was vacuuming the cottage. Rachel was busy with Stevie and Specs was in the office with Sue."
Kurt shook his head, still amazed at what it meant. "But won't they know something's wrong?"
Boo Boo shook his head. "Specs told Rachel he wasn't going to put the speaker on. He said he would record it for Sue if she told him to, but he wasn't going to listen."
"What about Sue?" Kurt asked, sudden panic taking hold.
Boo Boo smiled at him. "Sue never listens, either. She says the clients sound like howler monkeys and it gives her flashbacks of her last tour of duty." He pointed at the little box again. "The receiver's backup battery should last long enough to make him think it's working, but it won't last more than an hour." He shrugged. "Maybe two. Not long. He won't know unless he decides to check on you, and if he does-"
"-it'll be too late," Kurt supplied breathlessly as he threw his arms around the man beside him. "I don't know how I can ever thank you."
"Well," Boo Boo said thoughtfully, "you could let me use you as a reference when I look for another job."
---
Blaine held tight to the steering wheel and took a deep breath. One by one, he tried to count off the things he had to look forward to past eleven the next morning. There was his new apartment, for one. He'd spared no expense in decorating it, and secretly, he liked to think it resembled something Don Draper would have found suitable.
Then there was school. He'd gotten into his top three choices, and picking which one to go to hadn't taken a lot of effort. He smiled for a moment as he remembered the night his parents had taken him out for dinner to celebrate. How happy his mom had looked. How much pride had shone in his father's eyes when he'd lifted a glass to toast his son's success. He'd even let Blaine have some champagne of his own, saying he'd more than earned it, and deserved to be treated like the promising young man he'd always known his son to be.
Before he knew what had hit him, Blaine felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. "How did we go so wrong?" he asked himself under his breath. "We were so happy." He reached out to punch at his steering wheel and fell back against his headrest, groaning as he stared up through the sunroof. "Everything sucks," he muttered to himself, admitting that though starting school and moving into his swingin' bachelor pad were exciting, the thrill would likely wear off before too long. He'd lost his family, lost his home, and now that he was leaving the Lee house, he had no idea when he'd see his best friend again.
This was not the kind of mood he wanted to be in before his final time with Porcelain.
Porcelain.
Porcelain.
"What kind of goober falls in love with someone named Porcelain?" Blaine asked no one in particular as he lolled his head against the rest. He knew that wasn't his real name - no parent could be that cruel, could they? - but it was the only name he was likely to know. Why hadn't he asked when he'd had the chance? He wondered what Porcelain's name might be. It was probably something very elegant. Julian. Ethan. Tristan. Yeah. Something like that.
He was pulled from his daydreams by a fist banging against the glass as Clo Clo suddenly appeared outside his car. "Dude. Are you gonna sit here and hum to yourself all night, or are you gonna go on up there and get the hummer you paid for?"
"You really do cut to the chase, don’t you?" Blaine asked, shaking his head as he undid his seat belt.
Clo Clo frowned. "Only chasing I do is skirts. Only I don’t, because they usually chase me."
"Cha-" Blaine began in the split second it took him to process what Clo Clo was saying. "Never mind. I'm coming up."
"I must be stupid or something," Clo Clo said a minute later, "because see, I kind of assumed that when you said you were coming up you meant now."
"Well," Blaine said warily, "you need to stop leaning on my door first."
Clo Clo stiffened as he stepped away. "Mention this again, and my fist meets your mouth."
"Kinky," Blaine said before he could help himself, then raced toward the entrance doors before Clo Clo could register what he'd said.
---
Kurt stood at the window and stared at the thick drapes that covered it. Velvet would be there soon, and the temptation to pull back the coverings and watch for his arrival was almost too strong to bear. As much as Kurt wanted to know about this strange young man who'd come into his life, he also knew that every scrap of information he gathered would only make things harder.
It was going to be hard enough.
The Beatles were already fairly ruined for him, because he knew he'd never be able to think of his favorites without remembering the times he'd sung them here in this room. He couldn't imagine how difficult it would be to handle knowing something like what kind of car Velvet drove. Every time Kurt saw one like it, he'd imagine a warm body that felt good beneath his hands and smelled of cedar and spice. Every. Single. Time.
He couldn't do that to himself.
He just couldn't.
---
Blaine was halfway down the hall to Ten D when he realized he'd been holding his breath since Clo Clo had caught up to him and led him to the elevator. This was it. He had one last chance to turn around and say he wasn't going to go through with it. To leave without saying good-bye to his mysterious boy who'd turned his world upside down and made his heart ache and swell in equal measure.
It was more tempting than he wanted to admit.
Part Eleven
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