klaine fic: Waiting in the Dark: Part 4/?

Rating: NC-17 (eheheh yeeeesss) | S&C link | AO3 Link

Warnings: For this part, brief harassment and slut-shaming (not the sexual kind). also some sexytiemz with dirty talk ;)

Summary: Blaine is a hooker on the streets of New York, where as fate would have it, Kurt crosses his path (but not in the way you’d think…). 

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

They’re walking down the street, where they’re heading back to Kurt’s apartment for some trashy television and hot chocolate, chatting animatedly about the film adaptation of Rent as they go. Talking to Blaine is so easy, like breathing. There’s nothing forced and nothing expected, at least not anymore. Kurt doesn’t flinch at the mention of Blaine’s activities; in fact he is rather intrigued by most of them. He has hilarious stories to tell, and Kurt is eager to listen. If he pops a little something down south while lending an ear, he counts it as a natural reaction to talking about dicks. Nothing at all having to do with it being Blaine and dicks.

Kurt could see the predatory gaze a mile away as a sleazy guy in a windbreaker with a soul patch on his chin walks straight for them. Kurt can’t help it. He tenses up. Blaine’s head whips around to Kurt, noticing his twitch in movement, a look of concern on his face. It’s clear Blaine hadn’t spotted the man who was almost in front of them, because his face is wrinkled with confusion. “Kurt? Are you alright?”


He discovers very quickly the cause of Kurt’s shift. Or, the man himself makes himself discoverable.


"Hey sexy."


Blaine turns his head toward the man, throwing out a half-hearted smile to Kurt as soon as he hears the voice, almost like an apology. "Hey. How’s it going?" Blaine says conversationally.


The man looks far too cocky, far too forward, and it shows on his pointy face. “I’ve seen you. On the street.”


Blaine uncomfortably scratches the back of his neck, switching his gaze from Kurt back to the man in front of him. “Yeah, that’d probably be me.”

The man takes a step toward Blaine, and he takes a half-step back. It doesn’t seem like the man likes it, judging by his expression. But he smiles, a truly disgusting smile, as he rakes his eyes up and down Blaine’s body ostentatiously. “Are you up for grabs, baby?”

That pisses Kurt off. And it’s not even just that this man is treating Blaine like something to take off a shelf. This asshole hasn’t even acknowledged Kurt’s presence since he slithered his way over to them—not that he would want to be under the scrutiny of this ingrate, but the fact that he doesn’t even give a shit that he’s with someone sets Kurt off. He reminds himself that Blaine can handle it, that he has dozens of times. He’s not a child, he knows how to deal with grease bags like this.


"Um…I…no. I’m off the books till 7 tonight." Blaine informs the man.

The man continues smiling. “Any chance I could make a reservation? Or change your mind?”

Blaine looks to Kurt, then back to the man again, looking a bit haggard like Kurt had never seen before. Almost as if he was exhausted of this whole two-part life he’s been leading. Kurt knows that Blaine likes what he does, but Blaine must get a little tired sometimes. Blaine’s harried feelings are audible in his words. “I…no, sorry. I’m…just a regular guy right now. But if you come by my corner after seven we’ll see.”

The man rolls his eyes, rocking back onto his heels briefly before leaning forward. “Aw, come on, baby—” he whines, clutching at the lapel of Blaine’s pea coat, and that was the final straw. Kurt smacks the man’s hand down with all the strength he can gather, moving himself in between the man and Blaine, with a murderous glare.  "He said no.” Kurt growls out. “Now back off, buddy."


The man snatches his hand back angrily, his lips twitching open to expose clenched teeth. “Who the fuck are you?”

Blaine places a hand on his shoulder, protesting, “Kurt, I can—”


Kurt ignores Blaine, jerking his shoulder to shake off Blaine’s hand. “Who I am is someone you didn’t give a fuck about until I got in the way of your dick. And who I am is someone telling you to walk. the fuck. away.” Kurt spits out, looking on the man with contempt.

"Whatever, man. Fucking forget you then.” The man glares at Blaine one more time, then starts heading past them, banging Blaine’s shoulder hard as he goes. Kurt hears him mutter, “Fucking whore…" as he passes. Blaine’s eyes fall closed at the words that he obviously hears loud and clear, his face crumpling the slightest bit.

Kurt wheels around. “Hey! You don’t talk to him like that!”

The man halts, jerking his head back toward them, curling his lip sadistically.

Blaine grips Kurt’s arm this time, trying to calm him. “Kurt, don’t worry about—”

He’s interrupted by the man spitting out more words. “He’s a fucking. worthless. whore.” He sneers with a cruel smile.

Kurt pounces, but is hauled back by Blaine. Nevertheless he feebly struggles as he yells. “Fuck you! He’s a person just like everyone else! Except maybe you, because you can’t be anything more than a ragged bitch in heat!”

The man just snorts and flips them off from behind, sulking across the crosswalk and gripping the ends of his jacket a little too tight. 

Kurt fumes, finally settling down without Blaine’s grip on him.

"Kurt, chill out. You didn’t have to do that. I can handle myself."


Kurt takes a deep breath, tearing his eyes away from the disappearing man to look at Blaine, who shows no signs that the past few minutes even transpired.

Kurt nods, placing his palm to his forehead as he breathes to cool down. “I know I just…lost control.” He drops his hand from his face, and drapes it over Blaine’s shoulder, looking him in the eye, where he can see a little bit of anxiety lingering. “The way he was talking to you…I’m sorry.”

Blaine shakes his head adamantly, bringing the corners of his lips up into a smile. “I’m pretty used to it. But…thank you. That’s the second time you’ve done that.”

Kurt scrunches his eyebrows. “Done what?”

"Made me feel worth something."

Kurt feels like his heart drops into his stomach and he knows tears are burning his eyes. He just breaks out into a smile, begging them not to spill over. He finds his hand reaching up to stroke his thumb over Blaine’s pink-tinted cheek. “Well I should hope I do that every day. Otherwise I’m not a very good friend.”

Blaine’s eyes drift closed again, but this time with a lot more comfort, probably taking in the gentle motions of Kurt’s thumb. His face is lax and colored with winter chill, his full lips tilted in a soft smile that makes Kurt’s heart leap embarrassingly. And Kurt really wants to kiss him right now. But that would be a mistake.


Blaine lifts open his eyes to look at Kurt in a fond way that only increases Kurt’s want, and he slides his hand up to clasp Kurt’s waist lightly. “You do. But only a couple times have you made a point to prove it to me.” 


Kurt’s mind falls back to the first night they met, how eagerly and sincerely Blaine had thanked him then. He’s never really put much thought into how much that really meant to Blaine, but Kurt is slowly finding out. “Well maybe I’ll have to change that.”


“What’s up, bro? You not slutting it up today?”

Blaine tilts his head up from the arm of the couch enough to see Sam looming over him with a can of soda in his hand. “It’s not slutting if I’m making money from it. How many times do I have to tell you? I feel like you should know that, Strippy.” Sam smiles, rustling Blaine’s curls a bit with his free hand until Blaine slaps it away.

Then Blaine sighs, raising an open palm in a sign of I don’t know and letting his hand fall back onto his pant leg with a muffled smack. Blaine explains, “There was a bit of an altercation when I was with Kurt earlier today and it’s making me feel weird about working tonight.”

“Oh dude,” Sam says, sounding worried. He swings over the back of the couch to sit near Blaine’s feet and sets his soda on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Did you and Kurt have a fight? I thought you guys were, like, soul mates?”

Blaine props himself up with two hands to sit up. “No, we didn’t have a fight. Kurt and someone else had a fight.” Sam’s face still shows confusion, so Blaine elaborates. “Someone propositioned me, and Kurt got a little defensive when he wouldn’t back off.”

“Who was it? That Sebastian guy?”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t know him. Just some scumbag.”

“And Kurt went after him?”

Blaine lets out a chuckle. “Almost literally. I had to hold him back.”

Sam shakes his head and pats Blaine’s leg. “Damn. He’s got it bad, doesn’t he?”

Blaine drops his head back to the arm of the couch, shrugging. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Blaine.” He says it sternly, staring at Blaine with an intensity that he only ever sees from Sam either when he’s kicking ass at Halo or when he’s trying to convince Blaine of something that Sam is absolutely sure.

“What?” Blaine grumbles, allowing one of his legs to fall off the couch and hang there.

Sam leans forward, pressing a hand down on Blaine’s calf and the other on the cushion next to it as he stares Blaine down. “Blaine, I’m going to put this in your common tongue, ok? He wants you to choke on his cock.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Sam.” He grabs for the remote on the coffee table, but before he can switch on the TV, Sam is swiping it out of his hand.

“Dude!” Blaine huffs, not exactly sure why he’s getting so riled up. He lunges for the remote, but Sam dangles it off the far end of the couch. “Fine!” Blaine shouts, sitting up on the couch. “What do you want me to say to that, Sam? That I’m about to go and suck his dick because you said so? Kurt’s become one of my best friends. We’ve never fucked. Not even come close.”

“Yeah, but you’re both practically clawing each other’s clothes off every time you’re together! I’ve seen you two interact, and each time I wonder how you even manage to keep your clothes on.”

Blaine scoffs, swinging his feet down to the floor and heaving himself off the couch. “I need a drink.”

“Yeah, that’ll definitely help you keep your clothes on, Drunky McSlutboy.” Sam jabs, taking advantage of the open couch and lounging onto it while pressing the power button on the TV remote.

“I’m disowning you as a roommate and best friend, Evans.” Blaine says without turning his head, yanking open the fridge and pulling out a beer from the fridge.

“Fine. But I’m stealing back my batman underwear you took from me forever ago.” Sam counters.

Blaine smirks, peeking his head around the corner. “Sammy, do you really want them back after all I’ve done in them? All I’ve put in them?”

Sam scrunches up his face in repulsion. “Oh, that’s sick, bro.”

Blaine winks playfully at him, “Didn’t think so, big boy.”



A week later, when he’s lying on his bed alone, having headed home from his last fuck of the night about half an hour ago, he reaches for his phone. It’s three AM, and he’s still horny, but he wasn’t in the mood to impress. He was thinking about Kurt again, though. Thinking about his cock, as he does so often. Thinking about it in his mouth, in his hand, in his ass…anywhere but still inside Kurt’s pants. Blaine’s achingly hard and naked on his sheets, and so he does it. He calls Kurt.

When Kurt answers, he sounds slightly frantic. “Blaine? Is everything ok? It’s late.”

Blaine smiles at Kurt’s concern. He smiles at his everything. “Yeah, Kurt, I’m fine. How are you?”

Kurt sighs heavily across the line. “Working on sketches. About to stab my brains out. The usual.”

“Mmm, I hear brain juice is the new black.” Blaine chides, sliding a hand across his bare stomach, his hand twitching to close around his cock. Just the chime of Kurt’s voice sends Blaine throbbing at the moment, but jacking off to his voice while Kurt is talking about impaling his head seems in bad taste.

Kurt responds, the humor thick in his voice. “Yes, and I bet intestines would make a lovely scarf if we’re going that route.”

Blaine laughs earnestly at the remark. “Now you’re thinking outside the box.”

“It is the Kurt Hummel way, after all. So what are you thinking about on this midnight dreary?” Kurt poses.

Blaine bites his lip briefly before speaking low. “You.”

“Well I figured that, since you’re the one who called me.”

“You’re a smart ass, you know that?”

“A blessing and a curse, definitely.”

That’s when Blaine decides to go for it. “No, Kurt, I was thinking about you. While I was working tonight.” Blaine cringes at how that sounds, and now he’s wondering whether this was a good idea after all.

“Which…part of your work?”

“The fun part.” Blaine says, cupping his hand around his neck loosely out of nervousness, rubbing up and down before dropping it back onto the bed. This is so fucking weird. He never gets nervous. Ever. Yeah, Kurt is definitely different.

“Well that’s very subjective, Blaine.”

Blaine sighs, deciding bluntness is probably his best option here, considering his cock is out and practically dripping and he has no idea what he was expecting from Kurt when he called, but he’s really hoping that what everyone has said about Kurt’s feelings for him are correct. “Kurt, whenever there was a cock in my ass, I imagined it was you.”

Silence. For what seems like eternity. He can’t hear anything from Kurt on the other line. Blaine starts to sweat, just at his temples, but he feels the heat creeping up his body. And now all he can think is about how he should have planned this out better. His thoughts are finally dissolved when Kurt responds.

“Oh yeah?”

Blaine swallows quietly, leveling out his breathing. “Yeah.”

“Did it make you come? Thinking of me?” Kurt sounds charged, a white-hot current ready to strike Blaine to his very core. Kurt sounds…aroused. God, he sounds horny. And now…well, now there’s no way Blaine can stop himself from thinking about Kurt like he has been.

Now all Blaine can picture is Kurt’s delicate hand wrapped so obscenely gorgeous around his own cock, pumping it with long, loose strokes as he hold the phone to his ear with the other. He needs to see Kurt’s cock, knows it’s beautiful and big and dripping now with arousal. Blaine doesn’t even regret his massive boner right now. He just wants Kurt to make him come.

“Kurt, I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life. Imagining you there, pounding into me and making me take it. It was the fucking hottest thing I could ever dream.” Blaine spills out as he closes a fist around his cock and begins pulling up and down.

“You want me to fuck you, Blaine?” Kurt asks, and the tone of his voice is almost…innocent? Almost like he’s speaking to a child, asking if Blaine wants a cookie.

Blaine can’t stop his breath from picking up tempo, getting heavier as his fist speeds up on his cock. “Fuck yes, Kurt, please. I want you so bad.” Blaine says, a hint of whining seeping into his words the more desperate he gets.

Kurt starts really talking then, and there’s no denying that Kurt’s breath has gone unsteady as well, and that just makes Blaine stroke harder. “I bet you’re touching yourself right now, wishing you had my cock up your ass, aren’t you, Blaine? You’re just itching for me to give you what you can’t get from any of your little street fucks, hmm? You’re dying for someone to fuck you who actually knows what you want.”

Blaine moans full out at Kurt’s words, spreading his legs as wide as he can as he pumps his hips up into his hand. “God, yes—nnng—please give it to me, I need it.”

“Jesus, you’re a little slut for it, aren’t you?” Kurt pants out, the slapping sounds on the other end of the line not being muffled at all, which only gives merit to how hard Kurt must be stroking himself. “Tell me, Blaine. Tell me.”

A jolt of heat bursts in his stomach and through his cock as Kurt speaks, and he tries his best to not scream out the words. “I’m a slut for your cock, baby, such a fucking slut.”

“That’s right baby. Are you gonna come for me? Come all over that hand of yours and suck it off?”

“Whatever you want, Kurt, please.” Blaine begs, bucking his hips up and twisting his hand under the head of his cock as he approaches orgasm.

“Let me hear it, baby, let me hear you come for me.”

Blaine cries out as he comes, leaving his lips as some semblance of Kurt’s name as he releases all over his rapidly moving fist. He hears an “Oh fuck” as Kurt comes as well, and Blaine can only imagine how fucking incredible Kurt must look as he does.

Blaine pants loudly, breathing out his nose as he sucks his fingers clean one by one, giving himself a couple parting strokes before resting his saliva-slick hand on his heaving stomach. He can hear Kurt’s breathing through the speaker, and he wonders what Kurt is doing at that very moment. Where his hands are, what position he’s in, what he’s thinking about.

Kurt clears his throat after a moment. “Well…”

Blaine laughs breathily, nodding his head even though Kurt can’t see it. “So I guess that happened.”

Kurt laughs in return, a light, airy sound that makes Blaine’s heart leap. “Yes. Yes it did.”

“And how do you feel about that?” And Blaine almost flinching at how clinical that sounds.

“Well, Doctor Anderson,” Kurt starts, and Blaine squeaks out a truly embarrassing laugh that really only happens after he’s come and exhausted. He can almost feel Kurt smiling over the phone. “I think I liked it.”

Blaine’s grin stretches his cheeks wide. “I think I liked it too.”



Blaine slips the knuckle of his index finger into his mouth, biting on it as he tries not to squeal in happiness again.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Blaine.”

“Yeah, ok. Bye, Kurt.”

“Bye, Blaine.”

And for just a few seconds, just a few, Blaine allows himself to flail uncontrollably in excitement.

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