(no subject)
Title: Broadway Dreams - Chapter One
Rating: PG - 13 because of adult situation but no graphic description.
Pairing: Kurt/OC, Kurt/Blaine
Warnings: Prostitution, Bitter!(Slightly)OOC!Kurt,
Summary: Kurt has always wanted to make it big, and he has. Just not in the way he originally thought. Blaine did though, and after an attempt at a long distance relationship, Kurt and Blaine break up. Five years later Blaine is taking a shortcut to his new apartment when he notices a familiar face being hassled across the street.
A/N: This is the first chapter, so it’s pretty short and there’s no Klaine meeting yet J
The air is chilled, and his breath condenses, as if he’s a dragon breathing smoke. The ally is dark, shadows leer at him as he stands, close, but not too close, to the building behind him. Come on, he thinks, watching the opening of the slim street, just one. No one walks around the corner though.
Kurt sighs, half tempted to lean his head back against the wall behind him. But no, he may have sunk low, but that wall was covered in nasty looking gunk. After glancing at his watch, he’s about ready to give up. The past few nights he’d been lucky, only a few clients but they tipped handsomely and Kurt liked tips. Tips meant he could afford to pay his heating bill.
Being well known around the area had its perks, guys know where to find him and he rarely has a night when no one was interested. It just happened to be crappy timing that tonight was one of those nights. He looked at his watch again, as if he could claw back the hours, change spots, have worn something a bit more tempting. Anything to have changed his luck.
After another five minutes Kurt gives up, shaking his head and burying his hands into his pockets, he trudges back towards where he’d parked his beat up car. Climbing behind the wheel, Kurt pauses, staring out of the wind screen, as if someone would come running from the shadows and beg to have sex with him. He doesn’t realise he was shaking until he moves his hand to the ignition.
“Oh Gaga,” he murmurs, biting his still soft lip, “I’m pathetic,” he clenches his fingers around the steering wheel as he quickly pulls out of the ally. Tomorrow. He vows, tomorrow there’ll be someone there. They need me.
On the other side of town, Blaine Anderson is knocking back shots and laughing loudly with his friends. A housewarming, they say and he rolls his eyes. He’s never in one place more then once, and this time will be no different.
He’s almost sure of it.
A group of men walk in, distracting him from his thoughts, as he heard one of them say something in a feminine voice. Automatically Blaine’s eyes scan the group, searching for the man he knows already isn’t there. “Kurt,” he sighed, shaking his head. Where are you?