Fic: Desperate Endeavor (4/?)
Title: Desperate Endeavor - 4/?
Genre: Angst / AU
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine, Brittany/Tina (side pairing)
Summary: AU - Kurt calls an escort service and gets a little more than he bargained for in the boy they send. He may be falling for Blaine but he isn't going to let his life become a "Pretty Woman" type cliche.
Kurt did not expect Blaine to be at his side when he woke up but there he was. His hair was messed up, still wet, curly and plastered to his face. He was snoring, just slightly. It was the cutest thing. His left fist clutched at the blankets tightly. He was so pretty and yet so tragic to watch. Oh god, Kurt’s life was really becoming the cliché that he had been afraid it was. He was absolutely drawn to a prostitute.
“What is my life?” he asked aloud, getting up to make some coffee. Coffee was an absolute necessity.
When he came back, Blaine was less tightly wound up. He was awake, looking around him confused. “Hi,” he mumbled, when Kurt walked into the room. “I probably shouldn’t have stayed here. I’m sorry about that.”
“Did you forget the part where I asked you to stay?” Kurt asked, getting back into bed and setting the two coffee cups on the bedside table. Blaine scrambled a little bit, putting his underwear back on at least. He seemed so nervous, so jittery. It hurt. Kurt handed him a cup of coffee and gestured for him to relax. “I made you coffee in case you woke up. I know that I can’t survive without.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you going to have to leave?” Kurt asked, trying to hide the fact that just saying those words pained him. “I mean, I’d really rather you stayed awhile so that I could, you know, talk to you, but if you have to leave for any reason.”
“I probably won’t get a call today,” Blaine said quietly. “I usually get put out of commission for a couple days after he calls, so I can stay, but if you’d like me to leave, just say so and I will.”
Kurt shook his head and took a drink of his coffee. “Last night was amazing,” he said quietly. It was awkward as hell but that was the only thing he could think of to say. Once again, Blaine had absolutely blown his mind. “I’ve never felt anything like that in my life.”
“Neither have I.”
They could barley look at each other, both of them staring out in front of the bed. Kurt wanted to practically drown in his coffee cup and ask himself why he had bothered to ask Blaine to spend the night. It was the stupidest thing he could do and he knew he wasn’t hiding the fact that there were feelings involved now. He was probably making the other boy extremely nervous. The elephant in the room was that Kurt cared about Blaine and Blaine knew it.
“I know you want to ask me questions,” Blaine said, after at least fifteen minutes of awkward silence. “Can we get up and go to a table or something though? I don’t want to talk about this in your bed.”
Kurt got up and Blaine put on his shirt. He led the other man to the kitchen, where he sat up at the counter bar. Blaine joined him, still holding tightly to the coffee cup in his hands. Kurt refilled his own cup and poured some more for Blaine. “What do you think I want to ask you exactly?” he asked, tensely.
“You want to ask how I became a prostitute,” Blaine said, finally meeting Kurt’s eyes. “I don’t know how comfortable I am answering that question, but for some reason I feel that I can’t deny you if you do choose to ask.”
“How did you become a prostitute?”
Blaine smiled, not expecting that one. “You’re something else Kurt,” he said. He stilled himself, taking a deep breath and looking around in disbelief. “I don’t have a typical prostitute’s tale of woe, alright? I wasn’t born into a poor neighborhood where I starved and whored myself out to get by or anything. That’s far from the story.”
“You said your parents were wealthy last night.”
“I was afraid you’d caught that,” he mumbled. “Yeah, I was born to a pretty affluent family in Ohio.”
That made Kurt pause and look Blaine over.
“Where in Ohio?” he asked. “I came from West Ohio.”
“Westerville.”
Kurt’s eyes got a little bigger when he said that. “I came from Lima. I wanted to go to school in Westerville, Dalton Academy, but my family could never afford to send me there.”
“I went to Dalton.”
It was definitely frightening to Kurt how all of these coincidences and parallels between their lives were beginning to develop. It was like this meeting was something destined. Oh god, he really was becoming a walking, talking cliché thanks to the beautiful boy next to him. Everything was becoming like something out of one of those oh-so-amazing tales of romance that Kurt was addicted to. “That’s…amazing,” he mumbled. “I heard that they had this like, zero tolerance policy on bullying and it seemed like a dream to me. I was b-badly bullied in high school.”
“So was I,” he said. “The bad bullying I endured was why I ended up transferring there. Of course, if my parents put two and two together about why I was being bullied, I would have never seen the inside of Dalton’s halls either.”
“Were you bullied for being gay?” Kurt asked, quietly.
Blaine nodded quickly.
“Blaine, I have to ask,” Kurt said, feeling guilty for the fact that he did.
“My parents were never okay with my being gay,” he said. “You know what; maybe this is your tragic prostitute story, but just with another angle. At first they tried the ignore-it-and-it-will-go-away method and that worked until I was seventeen. They couldn’t ignore it when I had a boyfriend. It humiliated them. They had a lot of homophobic colleagues and associates. They said that they’d let me finish at Dalton to save face and not look like parents who kicked out their underage kid but when I turned eighteen I was on my own.”
Kurt held a hand over his chest.
“Yeah,” Blaine said chuckling a little. “This was when pride ended up being my ruin. I had nobody and I knew that the second I turned eighteen my life was over, so I dropped out of Dalton halfway through my senior year and moved to New York. Dumbass, right? I mean, if I had let mommy and daddy pay the tuition for one half of a year at least I’d be a high school graduate and have the ability to get a job, but no, pride and hurt got in the way.”
“I wouldn’t have let them either…”
Blaine shrugged.
“I got to the city and couldn’t get a job because I never graduated. I met the owner of the agency and she seemed nice and helpful enough. Really, I should shut up and stop complaining. I eat, the agency screens for STDs and stuff and well, I have a place to stay.”
Kurt could see the bitterness radiating off of Blaine in waves.
“Now you have my sad story,” he told Kurt. “I want yours. I’m going to take it that your coming-out story was a little less tragic.”
Kurt felt guilty, even before he spoke. “I was s-scared to come out,” he said honestly. “It turned out a lot better though, yes. My d-dad didn’t understand much about being gay or what it meant but he turned out to be amazing to me.” He hated that he had to tell Blaine that his coming out was good when it had ruined the other man’s life.
“That’s great,” Blaine said and Kurt was surprised that he was smiling. “The world needs more men out there like your father, I think. Kids should not have to be afraid of being true to themselves. Or else they turn into married closet-cases who shove around whores to get their kicks.” Blaine winced, shaking his head from side to side and clamping his lips shut as if he were trying to get himself to shut up and stop talking.
“So, that was the rough night you were talking about,” Kurt mumbled.
“I should probably go Kurt,” he said quickly. Something seemed to snap into place, change in Blaine in that moment. He jolted upright. “I really enjoy talking to you but this is probably a violation of pretty much everything I do. I have never been attached to a client and I most definitely have never stayed after the designated hours to talk about my sob story. I really am not sure what’s going on and I don’t like it Kurt. I am really, really uncomfortable right now. I’m sorry.”
Kurt followed Blaine into the bedroom, where the boy found his pants. He pulled them on and looked at Kurt with desperate eyes.
“Blaine,” Kurt said.
“You really shouldn’t call the agency anymore Kurt,” he said, sincerely. “I meant what I said that time when I told you that you were too nice for this. It’s a pretty dark world even if it is the high end of the prostitute scale and I’m on contract to be a part of it for at least another couple of years. You have this amazing life, friends you care about and it’s stupid for you to get caught up in this. You don’t need this to get by.”
“But Blaine…I…”
“Plus, I can’t imagine it would be good publicity for you if the media found out that the acclaimed designer Kurt Hummel was calling for high class hookers. You know what that does to people in the spotlight. It ends up being a total downfall for them and I would rather not be anyone’s downfall but my own.”
“Blaine I have…”
The boy smiled a tense, forced smile. “Thanks for the coffee and the bed Kurt. I’ll see you sometime again maybe.”
Before Kurt could work his objections in the form of “I care for you,” Blaine was gone. He sat back at the table and grabbed his phone. He toyed with it for a moment before he hit the speed dial for his office.
“Hello, the offices of Kurt Hummel.”
“Hey Britt. It’s me. I’m going to be a little late to the office but I am on my way.” He wanted to tell her more but instead just sighed, somewhat dramatically.
“Did you sleep with the prostitute again, Kurt? Tina said that it’s probably not a good idea.”
“I’ll talk to you when I get there. Love you sweetheart.”
He groaned and put his head in his hands.
Genre: Angst / AU
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine, Brittany/Tina (side pairing)
Summary: AU - Kurt calls an escort service and gets a little more than he bargained for in the boy they send. He may be falling for Blaine but he isn't going to let his life become a "Pretty Woman" type cliche.
Kurt did not expect Blaine to be at his side when he woke up but there he was. His hair was messed up, still wet, curly and plastered to his face. He was snoring, just slightly. It was the cutest thing. His left fist clutched at the blankets tightly. He was so pretty and yet so tragic to watch. Oh god, Kurt’s life was really becoming the cliché that he had been afraid it was. He was absolutely drawn to a prostitute.
“What is my life?” he asked aloud, getting up to make some coffee. Coffee was an absolute necessity.
When he came back, Blaine was less tightly wound up. He was awake, looking around him confused. “Hi,” he mumbled, when Kurt walked into the room. “I probably shouldn’t have stayed here. I’m sorry about that.”
“Did you forget the part where I asked you to stay?” Kurt asked, getting back into bed and setting the two coffee cups on the bedside table. Blaine scrambled a little bit, putting his underwear back on at least. He seemed so nervous, so jittery. It hurt. Kurt handed him a cup of coffee and gestured for him to relax. “I made you coffee in case you woke up. I know that I can’t survive without.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you going to have to leave?” Kurt asked, trying to hide the fact that just saying those words pained him. “I mean, I’d really rather you stayed awhile so that I could, you know, talk to you, but if you have to leave for any reason.”
“I probably won’t get a call today,” Blaine said quietly. “I usually get put out of commission for a couple days after he calls, so I can stay, but if you’d like me to leave, just say so and I will.”
Kurt shook his head and took a drink of his coffee. “Last night was amazing,” he said quietly. It was awkward as hell but that was the only thing he could think of to say. Once again, Blaine had absolutely blown his mind. “I’ve never felt anything like that in my life.”
“Neither have I.”
They could barley look at each other, both of them staring out in front of the bed. Kurt wanted to practically drown in his coffee cup and ask himself why he had bothered to ask Blaine to spend the night. It was the stupidest thing he could do and he knew he wasn’t hiding the fact that there were feelings involved now. He was probably making the other boy extremely nervous. The elephant in the room was that Kurt cared about Blaine and Blaine knew it.
“I know you want to ask me questions,” Blaine said, after at least fifteen minutes of awkward silence. “Can we get up and go to a table or something though? I don’t want to talk about this in your bed.”
Kurt got up and Blaine put on his shirt. He led the other man to the kitchen, where he sat up at the counter bar. Blaine joined him, still holding tightly to the coffee cup in his hands. Kurt refilled his own cup and poured some more for Blaine. “What do you think I want to ask you exactly?” he asked, tensely.
“You want to ask how I became a prostitute,” Blaine said, finally meeting Kurt’s eyes. “I don’t know how comfortable I am answering that question, but for some reason I feel that I can’t deny you if you do choose to ask.”
“How did you become a prostitute?”
Blaine smiled, not expecting that one. “You’re something else Kurt,” he said. He stilled himself, taking a deep breath and looking around in disbelief. “I don’t have a typical prostitute’s tale of woe, alright? I wasn’t born into a poor neighborhood where I starved and whored myself out to get by or anything. That’s far from the story.”
“You said your parents were wealthy last night.”
“I was afraid you’d caught that,” he mumbled. “Yeah, I was born to a pretty affluent family in Ohio.”
That made Kurt pause and look Blaine over.
“Where in Ohio?” he asked. “I came from West Ohio.”
“Westerville.”
Kurt’s eyes got a little bigger when he said that. “I came from Lima. I wanted to go to school in Westerville, Dalton Academy, but my family could never afford to send me there.”
“I went to Dalton.”
It was definitely frightening to Kurt how all of these coincidences and parallels between their lives were beginning to develop. It was like this meeting was something destined. Oh god, he really was becoming a walking, talking cliché thanks to the beautiful boy next to him. Everything was becoming like something out of one of those oh-so-amazing tales of romance that Kurt was addicted to. “That’s…amazing,” he mumbled. “I heard that they had this like, zero tolerance policy on bullying and it seemed like a dream to me. I was b-badly bullied in high school.”
“So was I,” he said. “The bad bullying I endured was why I ended up transferring there. Of course, if my parents put two and two together about why I was being bullied, I would have never seen the inside of Dalton’s halls either.”
“Were you bullied for being gay?” Kurt asked, quietly.
Blaine nodded quickly.
“Blaine, I have to ask,” Kurt said, feeling guilty for the fact that he did.
“My parents were never okay with my being gay,” he said. “You know what; maybe this is your tragic prostitute story, but just with another angle. At first they tried the ignore-it-and-it-will-go-away method and that worked until I was seventeen. They couldn’t ignore it when I had a boyfriend. It humiliated them. They had a lot of homophobic colleagues and associates. They said that they’d let me finish at Dalton to save face and not look like parents who kicked out their underage kid but when I turned eighteen I was on my own.”
Kurt held a hand over his chest.
“Yeah,” Blaine said chuckling a little. “This was when pride ended up being my ruin. I had nobody and I knew that the second I turned eighteen my life was over, so I dropped out of Dalton halfway through my senior year and moved to New York. Dumbass, right? I mean, if I had let mommy and daddy pay the tuition for one half of a year at least I’d be a high school graduate and have the ability to get a job, but no, pride and hurt got in the way.”
“I wouldn’t have let them either…”
Blaine shrugged.
“I got to the city and couldn’t get a job because I never graduated. I met the owner of the agency and she seemed nice and helpful enough. Really, I should shut up and stop complaining. I eat, the agency screens for STDs and stuff and well, I have a place to stay.”
Kurt could see the bitterness radiating off of Blaine in waves.
“Now you have my sad story,” he told Kurt. “I want yours. I’m going to take it that your coming-out story was a little less tragic.”
Kurt felt guilty, even before he spoke. “I was s-scared to come out,” he said honestly. “It turned out a lot better though, yes. My d-dad didn’t understand much about being gay or what it meant but he turned out to be amazing to me.” He hated that he had to tell Blaine that his coming out was good when it had ruined the other man’s life.
“That’s great,” Blaine said and Kurt was surprised that he was smiling. “The world needs more men out there like your father, I think. Kids should not have to be afraid of being true to themselves. Or else they turn into married closet-cases who shove around whores to get their kicks.” Blaine winced, shaking his head from side to side and clamping his lips shut as if he were trying to get himself to shut up and stop talking.
“So, that was the rough night you were talking about,” Kurt mumbled.
“I should probably go Kurt,” he said quickly. Something seemed to snap into place, change in Blaine in that moment. He jolted upright. “I really enjoy talking to you but this is probably a violation of pretty much everything I do. I have never been attached to a client and I most definitely have never stayed after the designated hours to talk about my sob story. I really am not sure what’s going on and I don’t like it Kurt. I am really, really uncomfortable right now. I’m sorry.”
Kurt followed Blaine into the bedroom, where the boy found his pants. He pulled them on and looked at Kurt with desperate eyes.
“Blaine,” Kurt said.
“You really shouldn’t call the agency anymore Kurt,” he said, sincerely. “I meant what I said that time when I told you that you were too nice for this. It’s a pretty dark world even if it is the high end of the prostitute scale and I’m on contract to be a part of it for at least another couple of years. You have this amazing life, friends you care about and it’s stupid for you to get caught up in this. You don’t need this to get by.”
“But Blaine…I…”
“Plus, I can’t imagine it would be good publicity for you if the media found out that the acclaimed designer Kurt Hummel was calling for high class hookers. You know what that does to people in the spotlight. It ends up being a total downfall for them and I would rather not be anyone’s downfall but my own.”
“Blaine I have…”
The boy smiled a tense, forced smile. “Thanks for the coffee and the bed Kurt. I’ll see you sometime again maybe.”
Before Kurt could work his objections in the form of “I care for you,” Blaine was gone. He sat back at the table and grabbed his phone. He toyed with it for a moment before he hit the speed dial for his office.
“Hello, the offices of Kurt Hummel.”
“Hey Britt. It’s me. I’m going to be a little late to the office but I am on my way.” He wanted to tell her more but instead just sighed, somewhat dramatically.
“Did you sleep with the prostitute again, Kurt? Tina said that it’s probably not a good idea.”
“I’ll talk to you when I get there. Love you sweetheart.”
He groaned and put his head in his hands.