Title: Put Your Hands on Me (and magic sparks)
Pairing: Blaine/Kurt
Full Summary: AU. Faeries exist, but are a rarity. Slavery, and more specifically, sexual slavery, is a way of life for many people. || When a boy is lucky enough to get his hands on a half-Faerie boy in an auction, he ends up falling too deep into something he doesn't understand. / When a half-Faerie boy is unlucky enough to be sold off in an auction to an ignorant human boy, he is sucked into a life he never wanted and forced to deal with an aspect of his species he didn't know existed.
Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to any of these characters. I simply dabble in this toybox.

Warnings/Contains: Non-explicit rape. Explicit dub-con. Slavery/sexual slavery. Fantasy-genre alternate universe. Dark!fic. Magic. Non-human species. PoV switches. General creepiness on Blaine's behalf. A fucked up society. Ear!porn?

((There are some spoilery warnings, but if you need to read all warnings, there is a link to my livejournal on my profile page. The full warnings can be found there.))




"I can't believe your dad already bought you a new one," Wes whined. "You only had that last one for a couple of months."

"When I saw this one, I knew I had to have him," Blaine said sheepishly, shrugging from where he sat. "It took a little bargaining with my dad, but he eventually agreed to sell him off to a good family. I liked him well enough, but you just don't pass up the opportunity to buy a Faerie."

"Oh man, where did you get him?" David asked, eyes widening as he looked at his friend's latest acquisition.

Blaine laughed at the question, sliding his fingers through the hair of the boy kneeling by his feet.

"Come on, spill," Wes said, prodding him. "Share and share alike. Did they have any pretty fae girls there? Don't be so tight-lipped."

Blaine understood his best friends' interest and excitement. Faerie folk were hard to come by, especially ones as young as the boy his father had just bought for him. But they were beautiful, and much better suited as pets than humans.

"He's only half, guys. And the seller was only auctioning off a couple of them. You'll be lucky if you see another pet with any degree of Faerie blood for sale for years. You know how much they hate the cold. They're almost never sold this far north."

Wes and David both made sour faces at this truth, but still weren't quite ready to let go of the idea of getting their hands on a pretty Faerie for their own.

"Can I touch him?" David asked, intrigued. He wasn't interested in Blaine's pet in any sort of sexual way, but the boy was quite enchanting, and he'd never seen one this close up before.

"You want to see his ears?" Blaine guessed. He leaned over and brushed back his pet's hair, showing the guys. "Look, most people wouldn't even notice the point to them."

"I've seen normal people with pointier ears than that," David scoffed in scorn. Though, by 'people', David meant 'one other person who might have been wearing a Halloween costume', but still. Faerie were said to have long, pointed ears that curved downward. This boy's ears had a gentle point and curved a little, sure, but a somewhat shaggy haircut would hide them.

"Yeah," Wes chimed in. "They don't look anything like the ones you see on the Discovery channel."

"Guys, I told you, he's only half fae. He isn't exactly seven feet tall, either." Blaine rolled his eyes, picking up his pet's leash as he stood.

"There's no way they're really seven feet tall!"

"I heard they were taller than that."

"Come on! Have you ever seen a seven-foot tall Faerie on TV?"

"Have you ever seen a Faerie standing up on TV?"

"Guys!" Blaine said, putting out his free hand to try and calm his friends down. "Come on. You're both kind of right. The male Faeries are the really tall ones. Female ones, like you two are more likely to see on television, aren't any taller than your average runway model." Blaine explained.

Of course, he also doubted Wes and David were getting their information of Faerie women from the Discovery channel. Right. More like the channels in the quadruple digits that their families probably didn't even realize they paid for, and showed things a lot more salacious than animals mating in the wild.

"Look, you guys can ogle my new pet later, okay? I promise. But for now, I want to bring him up to my room and get him situated."

"Are you sure he's house-trained?" David teased.

"Oh, hah, hah, you're a riot," Blaine dead-panned. "I'll see you two later and show him off for real, okay?"

"Fine," Wes agreed, making a face. "Be that way."

Blaine tugged on the leash, pulling his pet to his feet to follow beside him, listening to the sound of his two best friends scheming together how to get their own cute Faerie pets. The sounds grew fainter and fainter as he pulled his pet along, heading towards the grand staircase that led to the dormitories.



five days ago


I was so cold that it felt as though my skin were aflame. It tingled with a frozen burn, and I was certain if I had to stand there any longer, naked and out in the open, I would turn into an ice statue.

A frozen statue of a poor boy, half-human, half-Faerie, auctioned off to the highest bidder.

I'm sure it would sell for almost as much as what they were really auctioning me off for.

When I finally heard the ringing of a bell, my knees nearly buckled in relief. The bidding was over. They would, hopefully, allow me to wrap up once more. They didn't need to show me off any longer; it was a done deal.

Wasn't it?

I didn't want to allow myself to hope for much, not since the man who owned my sister and me died. We were willed to his son, who had no need nor want of two half-blooded pets, and a desperate need to pay off his father's debts.

Brih'tt'ny seemed pleased enough by the circumstances. She was always eager to please— not like that; our previous owner had no use for us like that— but also always seemed like she was itching in her skin, wanting and needing more than he was willing to ask of us.

She was going to make someone a wonderful bed-warmer.

I scoffed internally at the thought. 'Bed-warmer'. Hah. It was just a polite way of saying she'd be someone's sex slave.

That we were going to end up being sex slaves.

That's all the humans thought the Folk were good for by this point, anyway.

I was led off the auctioneer's stage by one of the men who worked there, led back around to my sister where I was given a blanket to wrap myself in.

Not even offered the dignity of clothes. Of course not.

I had fallen so low. It made me ill to know that some stranger was going to walk in soon and take me away from the only family I had left. We weren't especially close, but Brih'tt'ny was still my sister, and there was affection there. The thought that I would never see her again was still slowly setting in.

"Don't be sad," she said to me, smiling brightly as I wrapped myself more tightly in the sole blanket I had been given.

'Don't be sad'? Sometimes I wonder what brains, if any, she had in her head. Don't be sad. Hah.

"And why not?"

"Because the guy who bought you is totally hot," she said dreamily, arching her head back to stare behind her instead of turning her neck like a normal person.

"Oh, well, as long as he's exceedingly attractive," I said sarcastically.

It, naturally, went right over her head.

"I know, right?"

I stood there, seething in frustration, anger, humiliation, defeat, so-on and so-forth, when my sister opened her blanket to envelop me in a hug, holding her blanket around us both.

"Britt," I whispered, softening.

"I'm not sure, but I don't think your ears are supposed to be that pink," she said in a tone that made her confusion obvious.

"I'm freezing," I complained bitterly.

"That's weird," she said. "So am I."

I decided to give up and enjoy the warmth she decided to share with me. The warmth and the affection.

This would be the last time she would be here to give it.



The time passed too quickly. It wasn't much long before a man in a sharp business suit came over with a house employee to take me away from my sister.

I was brought to a small room with a desk and some rather official-looking people who sat around it, poring over papers.

"Here we are," the man in the suit said to the room as we entered. "Can we get this over with? I have a meeting at five." He didn't seem all that interested in the proceedings, so I assumed he wasn't the one purchasing me.

A teenage boy, a human boy, who barely looked any older than myself sat in one of the seats, looked up at me.

And the expression on his face sent a flame up my spine.

It felt… it felt predatory. I looked away from him immediately, lifting my chin haughtily to try and appear as if the look he sent me hadn't affected me in the slightest. I didn't want it to be apparent that the look he sent me both scared and excited me.

"Yes, sir. We finished looking over the contracts. Everything seems sound and above-board. It seems the seller is trying to sell off all of his father's property as quickly as possible to pay off debts left behind as well. All of the paperwork is in order, and there is a comprehensive and legally-registered genealogy available," a woman in a sharp suit said quickly. It was obviously tailor-made and of a very high quality. Two gentlemen who appeared to work with her, probably all legal counsel by the sound of things, agreed with everything she said and expounded on parts of it.

Both of them seemed to be wearing just as expensive suits as she. This said two very important things to me.

One: they all had remarkable fashion sense.

Two: they were probably this man's personal team of attorneys, and obviously paid a great deal of money. Which meant that he was buying me, and must be extremely well-off.

Perhaps this situation wouldn't be entirely awful. He didn't even seem all that interested in me, to be honest. He probably just wanted the status symbol of owning a Faerie, even a lowly half-blood like myself.

"I'm sure your son will have no complaints about his new pet, sir. All that's left is for the papers to be signed."

I froze in place.

His son?

I willed myself to calm enough to turn my head and, sure enough, there the boy was, still staring at me.

The expression on his face was definitely predatory.

"What's his name?" the man asked as he was being handed a pen to sign with.


The room turned to stare at me. Only then did I realize I had been the one to speak. My face felt too warm; I was certain I was flushed. I refused to look anyone in the eye, but I never lowered my chin.

I had too much pride for that.

Only a second or two passed before the man, before my new owner's father cleared his throat to draw the attention back to himself.

"If we want to change it, does it need to go into the contract? I don't want to be drawing attention to the fact that my son has a Faerie for his new pet unless he tells someone."

I was shocked. In fact, I was so shocked at the thought of someone wanting to hide my status as fae, a claim owners used as a status symbol, that it took a moment for the hurt to register.

Hurt and shame.

He wanted to take my name from me. The name that my mother had given to me, the name that tied me to my sister and we to our fore family.

I couldn't even try to hide my feelings from my face. There were indignities enough in being bought and sold as chattel, in being torn from my home and my family, being forced to stand in a room full of strangers, naked but for a blanket wrapped around my person. Being forced to stand entirely nude only an hour or so earlier while humans bid over who would own my body.

The thought of one of them taking my name from me as well was almost too much for me to bear.

I finally hid my face when I realize that my eyes were wet. I would rather the shame of hiding my face than allowing these Men to see me shed a single tear.

"I don't see why we have to make it a legal change," said a voice. It sounded much younger than any of the lawyers or people who worked for the auction house.

"Blaine—," his father began, before he was cut off.

"I mean, anyone who sees the legal documents are going to know he's fae anyway. His name is Kirtney?" I didn't even have to see it written down to know he'd mangled my name in his mind. It didn't even sound right. "So, I'll call him Kurt. That's a human name. There's no reason to go legally changing his name, Dad. It's a bit excessive."

The last thing I wanted was to be grateful to this boy, but I was. Fiercely so.

If I were ever freed, or somehow managed to run away, a legal change of my name like that would bar me from ever being welcomed by any blood relatives, even ones willing to shelter someone with 'impure' blood like mine.

A Faerie's name had power and meaning. To cut it away from me would be as bad as if they were to cut out my very spirit.

The boy, my new owner, Blaine— as was his name, apparently— seemed to be caught up in a staring match with his father for a time, a match of wills.

At least, that's how it appeared. His father surprised me by eventually smiling and clapping his son on the back, barking out a laugh.

"If that's what you want," he said indulgently. Blaine nodded his assent, and his father signed the papers he was being given. Blaine followed suit.

Surreptitiously, I dried my eyes on my blanket, trying not to think of where it had been before, or how well it may or may not have been cleaned before handed over for my use.

"We're going to need to get him, get Kurt," he corrected himself, "some clothes."

I looked over at my owner, eyes sore, and I was certain they were probably an unattractive shade of pink now, and was shocked by the smile he turned on me.

"We're going to need to do a lot of things with him before you can bring him back to school with you, Blaine, not just clothe him. You can have him fitted tomorrow, but now I really must get back to the office.

"Look at what happened to 'Just ten minutes, Dad, I want to see if they're going to be auctioning that painting I wanted for Mother's birthday'."

Blaine blushed. I only noticed because he wouldn't stop smiling at me. It was disarming.

"You're lucky the Fabrays have been looking to buy Sam off our hands for months now."

"I know, Dad."

So, my new owner was a spoiled little boy with an overly indulgent father. Great.

"Look at the bright side," he offered.

His father cocked an eyebrow as if to say 'what bright side?'.

"You're likely to make a profit off of Sam. Quinn has been so adamant about getting Sam off my hands that I imagine her mother will pay just about whatever you ask for him."

I felt ill over all this talk of people being bought and sold on a whim, fighting to hold it in and keep my emotions private.

"You have a point there, son," he said with a laugh. "Come on. Let's get you home. You and your new pet."