Rating: NC-17

Summary: AU Blaine goes to a whorehouse to clear his mind. The only problem is that he can't stop thinking about it. Prostitute!Kurt

Author's Note: This is something I've had written for about a month and a half now. It's not at the top of my priority's list to update, though, so I have no clue how long it'll be between updates. Just to warn you. But I do have the entire story planned out...


Blaine felt dirty. He had been trying to avoid doing this for quite some time now. Things were getting worse though. There were times where he could barely wait to be alone. Once he was, he'd fumble at his belt, slipping his pants and his underwear to the ground before his hands wrapped around his cock.

Those moments weren't enough anymore. It wasn't that he couldn't get off with the flickering image of someone he had seen, the thought of those clothes slipping to the ground, another person's hands on his cock. Those were all they were, though – thoughts. It was becoming increasingly unsatisfying knowing those were his own hands on him.

He was twenty-two for fuck's sake. He shouldn't be a virgin.

Blaine tugged on his jacket slightly as he turned the corner. There was an uneasy bubbling in the pit of his stomach. This wasn't familiar territory for him. The streets were filthy, and he kept on checking to make sure his money hadn't been stolen from him.

He could feel eyes shamelessly glued to him, whispers from people. It was as if they knew what he was doing. Pulling his arms closer to him, his eyes moved downwards, staring instead at the time puffs of dust his feet brought up.

What he was going to do wasn't unusual, but that didn't make it any better. It still was dirty and wrong. If it wasn't, he wouldn't be going to a neighborhood he had never gone to just so that he wouldn't be seen.

Blaine looked up to see a man with disheveled hair and dirty, long nails crawling at him and staring. Blaine edged back, slipping his hands back in his pockets and wishing he could somehow just disappear. At least he was close to Waber Street. He knew for a fact that there was at least one whore-house there.

Blaine turned the corner onto Waber Street and his eyes immediately fell on a broken-down looking building. Before it, a girl stood wearing nothing but a dirty skirt and a bra. She winked, leaping at the opportunity of a new customer. Blaine scowled, but he still walked over. Hopefully they wouldn't mind giving him a guy. He knew some places had problems with that. That would be another benefit of coming to the middle of this godforsaken place. He could pay well, so they wouldn't complain.

The girl growled at him and suggestively slid off her bra strap as he walked up to the door. He uncomfortably shifted away, his cheeks blushing, and pushed open the door. She followed him in, and he suddenly felt a hand on his back, trailing downward. Blaine yelped, jumping back, his heart pounding. She looked somewhere between shocked and annoyed when he turned around.

But then Blaine heard another chuckle, and turned around. A tall, plump man stood behind the counter. He rubbed his nose, and grinned, revealing a lack of teeth. "Well, 'lo there, sir." He looked at Blaine hungrily, and Blaine was sure he was drooling at the thought of the money he'd get out of it. Blaine's fingers dived down in his pockets again, and he let out a sigh of relief when he touched the coins he had buried deep in there. At least they hadn't gotten stolen.

"Um, hello," Blaine replied, feeling suddenly awkward.

"First time, I'm guessing?" Blaine nodded. "Well, don't worry, we'll treat you… well. We have a fine selection of girls. If Lisa doesn't suit your fancy there's –"

"It's not girls I'm interested in," Blaine muttered, feeling his face heat up. He couldn't believe he was here. But the thought of feeling someone against him, his cock touched by someone other than himself – Blaine's mouth went dry and he blinked rapidly, trying to regain some composure.

"Oh, I see." The man looked surprised, but shook his head and continued, the same sly grin quickly pasted on his face. "Actually, I think we have the guy for you. Just give him a moment or two to get ready, and I'll send you right up. Just have a seat." He motioned over to a chair. There was only one other one, which was occupied by another man who was openly staring at Blaine.

Blaine slid over to the seat, trying not to meet that man's gaze. The place looked old, and the floorboards creaked. But it would have to do. The main room itself was fairly small. There was a staircase positioned all the way to the right, but other than the two chairs and the counter, there really wasn't much. There was a spider crawling up the wall, and Blaine tried to focus all his energy on it, but his damn heart wouldn't stop pounding against his chest.

It took only a few minutes, as the man had promised, before he heard the stairs creak, and he glanced up to see the plump man grinning at him and descending the last few stairs. "That's be seventy-five denas, Mr. – uh –"

"Bl – Blake Tilbury," Blaine quickly said. He was expecting it would cost as much. It was a bit ridiculous, but at this point he was desperate. Besides, the pimp was bound to take advantage if he saw a money deal. It wasn't as if seventy-five denas was that much for Blaine anyway. The man grinned, and accepted the money and counted it out. He looked rather pleased with himself.

"Room five, Mr. Tilbury. Enjoy." Blaine nodded and pulled himself up, trying to ignore the other man, whose eyes were still glued to him.

Blaine walked up the stairs and stared at room five for a moment before knocking. He couldn't believe he was about to do this. The most he'd ever gotten was an awkward handjob at fifteen from a girl called Elizabeth. That was still when his parents had been forcing him together with girls. His hand reached out, and with the steady four knocks his stomach knotted up.

"Come in." The voice sounded slightly feminine, and Blaine turned the knob and pushed the door open. The boy was facing away from the door, adjusting the pillow on his bed. He had brown hair which was neatly groomed, and he held himself upright. Blaine didn't even think or know what he was doing. His hand reached up towards the light-switch and he turned it off before the boy could even turn around.

"What are you doing?" The voice wasn't gruff, simply surprised. He pushed the door shut the final few inches and it creaked and clicked.

"I'd rather just do this in the dark," Blaine explained, feeling flustered. Of course, it was more than just flustered. He felt anxious and unsure. And hell if he didn't feel horny…

"I – um, of course," the boy replied. Blaine heard some shifting and the floorboards creaked as the boy walked closer to him. Blaine stood stiffly, trying to remember how to move or think, but a hand reached out and brushed against his arm. The boy's fingers moved experimentally around before reaching down towards his chest.

"You know, Pete told me you were rich, but I thought he was just fucking with me." Somehow it sounded almost wrong hearing a voice like that swear. "If I'm not mistaken, you're wearing a suit, though." Blaine nodded before realizing that the darkness made that impossible to see.


"He also told me it was your first time." The hand reached downwards, cupping him through his pants. Blaine gasped, his hips jerking forward.

"God –" He didn't actually know the boy's name. And while the whole concept of this was – in a way – anonymity, it somehow felt wrong letting someone touch him like that without even knowing his name. "Your name?"


"Is that your real name?" The question slipped his lips before he could stop himself, and he mentally cursed his stupidity.

"Is Blake Tilbury yours?" Blaine didn't reply. "Besides, I'm not here for small talk." As if to emphasize that, Keaton deftly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants before slipping a hand inside. He palmed Blaine's erection through the fabric of his underwear and his lips moved down to Blaine's neck. He bit down lightly, and his hand continued to apply pressure. Blaine let out a small, choked sound.

"God…" Blaine barely knew who he was or what was going on. It already felt so good. His hips thrust forward into Keaton's hand, and his body hummed. But then Keaton's hand moved away, and Blaine let out a small sound of protest. Quickly, however, two fingers hooked on either side of his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear.

Blaine let out another sound as his cock sprung free into the cold air. Keaton pressed against him, though, and one of his hands reached up for Blaine's jacket, slowly popping open the buttons. The jacket fell to the floor with a soft sound, and his bow tie followed quickly afterwards. Keaton had done this enough times to know how to navigate his outfit.

Thoughts about that quickly faded as Keaton's other hand went back down to his cock. His thumb played over the tip, smearing the pre-cum. Blaine moaned into Keaton's shoulder, and he thrust his hips forward as Keaton's fingers wrapped around his erection. Keaton's hand slowly worked up and down his length, and his other hand briefly went down, cupping Keaton's balls.

Blaine felt as if he was humming, and his entire body shook. There was the sensation of warmth already starting to building up in his stomach. And his shirt finally slipped off. Keaton's other hand reached up, and his fingers trailed down Blaine's chest. His head slowly went down, and there was a moment where he could just feel his breath against him.

Then, Keaton's mouth reached out and his lips wrapped around Blaine's nipple. Blaine groaned, arching forward. Keaton's tongue flicked out and tasted the sensitive nub, and Blaine's mind melted. He positively shook with anticipation and his fingers curled uselessly at his sides. Keaton gave him another light nip before his lips slid downwards. His tongue worked downwards, teasing him, and by the time he placed another gentle bite on his inner thigh, Blaine was whining.

"Keaton, please…"

"You virgins are so fun," he heard a voice mutter before the hot breath ghosted across is weeping cock. God, he had never wanted something so badly. His hands shook, and his hands worked into fists, his nails biting small half-moon crescents into his skin. "And hopeless," Keaton added, his hands reaching up. He grabbed Blaine's hands and placed them into his hair. "You can guide me, let me know exactly what you want." Blaine nodded before again realizing that Keaton couldn't see him.

"O – okay…" His fingers curled around the hair, and he was surprised to note that it was soft and silky. It felt clean. Keaton shifted, and suddenly Blaine felt warmth and wetness engulf him. Biting down on his lip, he let out a half-formed choked sound. Fuck, it felt amazing. He felt that bubbling return to the pit of his stomach and he pushed Keaton's head forward, trying to remember how to keep standing as Keaton's moved forward.

He moved down, taking Blaine to the root. Humming quietly, Keaton vibrated around him, and Blaine felt his knees quiver. He wouldn't last much longer. His fingers tightened around Keaton's hair, and Keaton set a steady pace, bobbing up and down. He traced expert patterns with his tongue, twirling maddeningly. Blaine's body felt on edge – on fire. He jerked his hips forward one final time before coming.

Keaton kept working at him the entire time, milking him for every last drop. Blaine felt absolutely drained, and he reached out behind him, feeling the bed before falling backwards on it. His legs felt utterly useless, and he let his eyes drift shut. Hell, that had been one of the most incredible experiences of his life. Keaton pulled back with a wet plop, and traced his tongue one final time on the underside of Blaine's softening cock, following a vein.

Blaine felt something move beside him, and Keaton curled up next to him. Blaine felt a hand on his back, softly massaging him, and he murmured appreciatively. He felt his muscles start to relax, but it didn't last long.

"Please tell me you at least have some idea how guys have sex," Keaton said, and Blaine could almost picture the mystery face scowling.

"Um, lube, stretching – uh – like with the fingers –" He felt awkward saying it aloud.

"Jesus Christ, that's what you're here for. Just relax. But, yes, basically. I had a virgin a while ago who didn't know anything. That really was years ago, though." Keaton added, more to himself, "Haven't had a virgin in a while…" Blaine felt his cheeks heat up.

The hand on Blaine's back shifted downwards, and Keaton's fingers traced down his spine. He moved so that he was straddling Blaine and his hand lingered right above Blaine's ass. "Do you know what rimming is, Blake?" The word sounded familiar, but Blaine couldn't put his finger on it.

"Um, no." There was a small snorting sound above him, and he was almost positive Keaton was smirking.

"Just relax, then." Suddenly he felt hot breath on his ass, and Keaton's hand slipped down, spreading his legs apart. It was hard to relax, though. What the hell was he doing? Suddenly Keaton's tongue darted out and licked the sensitive skin.

"Oh, fuck…" Blaine bit down on his lip and he felt his cock start to stir again. There was a moment before he swirled around, his tongue teasing Blaine. Fuck, in a way it was almost gross thinking about what he was doing, but his body shook, and – damn – it felt good. Keaton chuckled, and his tongue slowly eased in past the layer of ringed muscles.

Blaine moaned, his fingers gripping at the sheets. Keaton's tongue slid out, and Blaine lifted his hips, dying for more contact between the two of them. His body felt like it was on a live wire, and his stomach started to feel that familiar warmth. As if realizing that he was starting to build up again already, Keaton pulled back, and Blaine heard him panting.

He wanted to feel it again, but then Keaton reached over him and, by the sound of it, opened a drawer. There was the sound of something opening, and Keaton moved his head down to Blaine's ear. "Give me your hand." Blaine extended it, feeling around until Keaton grabbed it. There was a moment with a squelching sound, and something slick and wet fell on his fingers. Lube.

"Let me…" Keaton trailed off, and he led Blaine's hand downward until Blaine felt Keaton's skin underneath him. "You're going to slide in gently now, okay?" Blaine let out a squeaking sound of agreement, and he pressed forward with his fingers, sliding against the creased until he felt the puckered hole. He eased one of his fingers in, and his eyes widened. It was tight and warm. He could only imagine how that would feel around his cock.

Blaine added another finger, letting it fall in to the knuckle before edging it in the rest of the way. Keaton made some sort of a grunting noise. It didn't sound like he was particularly enjoying it. Was he doing something wrong? He felt bad. After all, the least he could do was make this an experience Keaton would enjoy. "Should I –"

"You're fine." Keaton's voice was a little gruff, and Blaine didn't reply. After working a third finger in, Keaton quickly said, "You're good." Blaine pulled out, and there was a moment before Keaton grabbed his hand again. He placed what Blaine assumed to be a condom there, and he grabbed it, sliding it on. Keaton grabbed his hand one more time. Then, there was the same slick feeling. Blaine's hand reached downward, and he spread it liberally across the condom before positioning himself closer to Keaton.

"What position do you want to do this?" Blaine finally asked, his voice small. He had no clue what felt good or comfortable.

Keaton's hips pressed backwards, and Blaine stifled a sound as he felt his cock nudge at Keaton's entrance. "Just grip the headboard ahead of you." Blaine did as he was instructed with one hand, and his other guided his now-hard cock. Carefully, he eased himself in, relishing the feel of it surrounding around him. Fuck, it wasn't like anything he had felt before, and as he sheathed himself completely, his fingers clenched around the wooden headboard.

"So tight," he managed to choke out, his mind already starting to melt. It was hard to think, but his body just felt so alive.

"Move," was Keaton's only response, and Blaine shifted a bit before pulling out. He set a steady pace, and his body hummed with life. He could feel Keaton contract around him, and it was almost unbearable. Blaine wasn't even sure how he was finding the energy to do this, and he trembled with the effort. Fuck

One hand slipped down and fell to Keaton's back. His nails raked the skin, and he heard Keaton gasp underneath him. He tried to mumble out an apology, but the words jumbled up. As he tensed up, Blaine knew he was close. He thrust several more times before toppling over the edge. Letting out a shout, Blaine clenched his eyes shut and bit down on his lip. He could taste blood, but that didn't matter. What mattered was the wait his body absolutely radiated and pulsated.

He pulled out and collapsed on top of Keaton, a wave of grogginess suddenly hitting him. God, this was the best idea he had in a while. Now, he just had to find the energy to leave. Shifting a bit, he propped himself up on his elbows. His legs felt completely weak, and he just wanted to fall asleep. But, of course, that wasn't an option. Groaning, Blaine pulled himself up.

Reaching down, he felt the floor for his clothes. It took a while before he could find each of them, and he put them on slowly. Keaton said nothing the whole time, but the silence wasn't necessarily uncomfortable. Blaine just felt satisfied. He had needed that.

As he finally pulled the jacket on – scowling at the heat – he turned, seeing the faint outline of the bed. His eyes had, after all, somewhat adjusted to the dark. "Thank you." There was a shifting sound as Keaton got up.

"No problem. That's what I'm here for, after all." Blaine nodded to himself before moving towards where he remembered the door was. His hand reached out and slid against the wall before he finally found and grasped the handle.

He opened the door and squinted as light streamed in. He turned around to see Keaton respectfully facing away from the door. A part of this made him happy. No matter how wonderful it had felt, that bit of shame he had felt before nudged him in the back of his mind. Blaine slipped out and stopped for a moment outside the room. He fell back against the wall, and closed his eyes.

Now that he thought about it – what had he done? Sure, it had felt amazing – that there was no denying. But he had succumbed. This was a whorehouse. Of course, Keaton hadn't been exactly the stereotypical image of a prostitute, but still… Blaine shook his head.

Suddenly he heard soft singing from inside the room. He froze, listening intently. Keaton's voice was beautiful. And, more than that, it was heartbreaking. Blaine didn't recognize the song – something about a green finch and a linnet bird. But that didn't mean that he didn't hear the pain behind it. He swallowed thickly, feeling his eyes prickle.

Keaton's voice wavered a bit at the high notes, and Blaine was almost sure that Keaton himself was crying. Up until that point, he hadn't really understood it when people said that someone wore their heart on their sleeve. But with that song, the emotions were just so obvious, and it tugged at his heart.

Pulling away, Blaine stumbled down the steps in a confused daze. The man behind the counter grinned at him. "He was satisfactory, I hope." Putting on his best smile, he nodded as he looked at the man.

"Most definitely."

"Good, I'm glad," the man said, looking rather pleased with himself. "Hopefully we'll see you again sometime soon, then, Mr. Tilbury." Blaine nodded again and slipped out of the building.

His hands slipped back into his pockets, but not before smoothing down his hair. On the walk home, he didn't notice how people stared at him anymore. And he didn't notice when some beggar laughed, commenting that he smelled of sex. No, Blaine was too absorbed in thoughts about Keaton. That voice had caught his attention, and it was all he could focus on the entire walk home.

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