Pairing: Kurt/Dave
Summary: AU (or future-fic) After Kurt doesn't get into NYADA he gets sucked into an unforgiving business with Officer Dave Karofsky following in his every step.
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Attempted non-con, prostitution, spanking, fellatio, and voyeurism.


Kurt stands on the corner every night, waiting for the right man to whisk him away into a fantasy land. Maybe it's a twisted fantasy, but every night, it becomes Kurt's twisted fantasy.

It's cold out tonight, but Kurt still wears his vinyl red shorts that stick to his skin and creak when he moves, his thigh-high black stockings, and red oxfords with a slight heel. He has a white v-neck made of mesh and a black leather jacket with white sequins. One of his clients gave him that jacket, and he carries it as a prize, especially when he visits the client every Wednesday and see's the satisfied smile on his face.

A cop cars pulls up nearby and he pulls himself further into the shadows as he watches someone in the car talking to Joseph, the new boy on the block. He tries to make out the cop's face, but only see's a figure in shadow. Another cop gets into the car and Joseph freezes up and quickly runs off into an alley.

Kurt spots a man in a trench coat approach him from the other side. He holds his breath and comes out of the shadow, smiling at the man who is now peering curiously at him.


Dave comes into work every day expecting the worst. He expects to die in the line of fire, but he's always been quite pessimistic, not to mention- dramatic.

He's out patrolling tonight and his partner, Santana, is out getting tacos or burgers- the usual junk from the usual shitty fast food joint that's open forever. He's approaching a shady street that he's never patrolled before and hunches his shoulders, warily eying the people passing by.

It takes him a few minutes to realize that this dimly lit street with alleyways completely drenched in darkness is an obvious area to pick up prostitutes, and from what he can tell, they're mostly male. Perhaps, they're all male and Dave just can't see behind all that make-up and nail-polish.

A scantily clad kid, probably no older than 16, approaches his car with a smug grin on his face and an outfit half missing.

The window is partially open, so Dave hears every word. "Nice night, officer" he drawls, his accent so obviously southern.

"Nice night for an arrest" Dave deadpans, frowns when the kid leans against the car, ignoring his threat.

"What if I need saving from all those bad men out there who want to take advantage of me?"

Dave wants to say "spare me" or something just as cold and unimpressed, but he suddenly imagines the kid naked and dead in a lake somewhere.

He reaches to open the window wider and the kid smiles at the invitation and pokes his head in.

"Listen. Do you have a family to go to? Parents? I'll drive you home if you promise to lay low for the night."

"Oh, I usually lie low for the night. On my back, on my knees-"

Dave winces and puts up a hand "stop right there, I don't want to hear this. Please, do you have a family?"

The kid's expression suddenly turns serious and his black hair falls into his face. "Yes, but they kicked me out when I told them I was, you know… gay." His face twists in contempt, as if the word is a curse. Dave feels his heart sink.

Suddenly the passenger door opens and Santana plops down into the seat next to him. The raunchy smell of burgers fills the car instantly.

The kid's eyes widen and he turns around and sprints back into an alley.

"Hey, wait!" Dave calls out; Santana gives him a questioning look.

"What was that about?" she unwraps a burger and takes a large bite.

"That kid was too damn young, kicked out by his parents for being who he wants to be, and he's probably going to get sick and… I can't."

Santana puts a hand on his arm. "I told the Sarg that this neighborhood was a bad idea for you. I told him about your past and some of the things you've done, but he thought you put those things behind you."

She speaks again after a moment of silence. "Maybe we should get out of here; I'll call and see if someone else can take our spot."

"No! No, it's fine" Dave answers, maybe a bit too quickly because Santana seems a little shocked. She nods anyway and hands him his burger, unwrapped. He begrudgingly takes it, but before he has a chance to take a bite, he spots another kid, but this time, he's not alone.


The man urgently presses Kurt against the wall. He shudders when he feels the cold brick against his skin.

"What's your name?" the man whispers, his breath ghosting over Kurt's neck, his hand lightly pressed against the mesh shirt over Kurt's abdomen.

"K-Kurt" he stutters, mostly because he's cold, but also because he's suddenly aroused.

"Cute name, Kurt" he practically purrs, collecting Kurt's wrists and bringing them over his head.

"What would you like to do today?" he asks so casually, it's as if he's talking to a coworker.

Kurt almost forgets to speak when a knee presses up between his thighs, but manages somehow, even when he spreads his legs invitingly and the knee presses further.

"Whatever you want" he breathes.

At this, his vision is suddenly spinning around and he's facing the wall with the man's warm body pressing up against him, his erection jutting against his ass. His hands are pinned above him and the man starts kissing his neck. Kurt shivers involuntarily and arches his back.

"Anything I want? Even if I fucked you right up against this wall? I could do that?"

Kurt shivers involuntarily and arches his back. He knows the police are nearby, maybe even watching, but he feels such a thrill at being more out in the open than usual.


Dave takes a few bites, watching through his eye-lashes as the man starts pressing himself against the kid and trapping him. Santana either doesn't see or doesn't want to make a comment.

The man flips this kid around and starts assaulting him from the back. Dave swallows his bite, but it burns as it goes down his throat. He can see the kid's pale neck, his thin arms and delicate hands as the man ravages him.


"Yes, yes, you can."

Kurt hears the unmistakable sound of zipper opening and when his hands are freed he slides one into his pocket and pulls out a condom.

"Use this, please."

The man pauses for a second, but takes it. Kurt sighs when he hears the sound of a wrapper opening. But suddenly, it's on the ground and Kurt's shorts are being yanked down forcefully, exposing his ass to the cold.

He shrieks when fingers are pressing into him, checking if he's stretched enough. He always stretches himself, before and even after every fuck, every moment alone.

He tilts his head and spots the condom, abandoned on the ground. His blood runs cold. "No, no, please- use the condom" he resists, trying to elbow the man, stepping backwards and tripping on his feet.

The man doesn't budge, only lifts Kurt before he falls and crushes him against the wall. The cold brick bites into Kurt's cheek.

He hears rustling and screams when he feels something wet and thick pressing between against his opening. He doesn't realize that he's the one screaming until a hand is over his mouth to muffles his protests. He tries to bite down but the hand is tight and he can't even partly open his mouth.


"Dave?"

Dave's eyes are hooked on the scene, only a few feet away from the car. The kid cries out, he stops eating altogether, puts the burger down and scrambles for the door handle.

"Shit" Santana says when she follows his eyes. She reaches for the door as well, but by that time, Dave's already storming out, gun out of the holster and held firmly in his hands.


Kurt's sobbing as he feels the man try to push into him, clumsily missing a few times.

Fuck, fuck, I'm going to get raped in front of the police. I'm probably going to get HIV. Fuck. His thoughts feel like madness.

"Shh, sh, it's okay baby, I'll make it better" the man speaks softly. It brings chills down Kurt's spine.

But then, the warmth is gone, there's nobody trying to take something away from him. Not his virginity- he lost that with Blaine a long time ago, and then he lost Blaine, and sometimes he pretends that he's lost it with every other man afterwards. This man was trying to take away his health, whatever's left of his dignity, his confidence.


"Get the fuck off of him, you sick bastard" Dave says in a deep voice that he himself doesn't recognize. The man doesn't seem to hear him, or he's simply ignoring him. Wrong move.

Dave snatches a handful of the scum's trench coat and yanks him away from the poor kid. He presses the gun into the small of the man's back when he resists.

"Move and I'll lodge a bullet into your fucking spine. Understand?"

The man nods, placing his hands on the back of his head. Dave grunts, grabbing for the man's wrists and cuffing him tightly.


Kurt sags when the man's presence is gone. He folds his legs beneath him as he slides down to the ground. Then he turns around and stares silently as the asshole is cuffed and pushed towards the cop car.

"Get a move on, scum" the officer says.

Another officer approaches him, a woman. Her hand hovers over his now exposed shoulder. His jacket must've been taken off at some point. His memory is hazy.

"Are you alright?" she asks. He wants to snap at her, but he's too tired.

He forces a smile, rubbing tears from his eyes. "I've been better, officer."

The cop seems to restraining herself from embracing him or something as comforting, but she seems afraid that he'll lash out or fall apart.

She stares hard at him and opens her mouth in shock. "Kurt?"

When he hearing his name, he looks up and sees Santana Lopez staring back at him. He expects judgment, but she looks like she's about to cry.

"Santana? Is he okay?" he hears a voice in the distance, the other cop coming back to check on him.

"I don't see any bleeding, except for his knees and palms, but nothing..." she trails off and the cop understands- nothing internal. He comes closer and looks into Kurt's eyes.

"Listen, Dave-"


It takes a moment, but recognition dawns on Dave and he has to steady himself on the wall.

"Fuck. Kurt, is that you?"

"Wha- David?" the kid- Kurt's eyes widen and Dave knows that he can recognize those blue eyes anywhere.

He suddenly feels sick. The urge doesn't pass and he leans down and retches, the burger being the culprit no doubt.

Kurt shakes when he realizes that it's definitely David Karofsky, from high school. A cop, out of all things. And here's Kurt, a prostitute. It's like a bad joke, only nobody's laughing.

"Can you leave us alone for a minute?" Dave says, his voice scratchy. He swipes his mouth across his sleeve. Santana seems offended at first, but stands up and heads for the car anyway.

Dave kneels, grabbing Kurt's leather jacket and attempting to cover him up with it. He comes in contact with Kurt's arm and he recoils at the coldness of the skin.

"Christ, you're freezing" without thinking, Dave starts unbuttoning his long-sleeved work shirt, leaving his white t-shirt beneath. He ignores the chill of the night and wraps it around Kurt, who doesn't seem to protest.

"These aren't the circumstances that I'd expect to meet you in, Dave" Kurt half smiles, a bruise forming on his cheekbone where he was pushed into the wall.

"Fuck, Kurt, fuck. I could say the same for you." Dave drives a shaky hand through his hair. He expected to find Kurt on a Broadway stage, singing about being free to love whoever he wants.

Kurt isn't sure what he expected. Maybe he thought Dave would still be hanging around gay bars, picking up men in the bathrooms. But a cop? No, he never anticipated that. Not to mention Santana. Looks like the bully whips are back in business.

Dave looks down and pales when he sees that Kurt's shorts are at his knees. Kurt feels him staring and pulls his legs closer to cover himself.

He can't help it; he pulls Kurt into an embrace. He feels the smaller frame in his arms shake. He hears sobs as Kurt weakly puts his arms around Dave.

"Oh god, Dave, you don't understand. He didn't want to use a condom, I tried to resist, I was so scared. And- and I didn't get into the college of my dreams- I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to face my dad, he'd be so disappointed after I tried so hard-" he sniffles, digging his fingernails into Dave's back as he listens quietly.

"-I found this place and I became this disgusting person, I- I can never go back. I'm a whore."

Dave grimaces at the word and pulls away from Kurt, who has his eyes down in shame. He finds himself quickly reaching for Kurt's shorts and pulling them up with effort. Kurt lets himself be covered with the jacket and shirt and lifted off the ground.

"What are you doing? Where are you taking me?"

Dave takes him in his arms and carries him over to the car. Santana is waiting by the door, and doesn't say anything when he gingerly lays Kurt in the back-seat with his legs completely outstretched.

"I'm taking you to my house." Dave states, searching for a judgmental look on Santana's face.

She shrugs and simply warns, "don't do anything stupid, Dave."

Then Dave realizes something, clenching his teeth. "What happened to that fucking asshole?"

Santana smiles and says "I had him picked up by another car while you two were talking."

He visibly relaxes. "Thanks, San" and he drives off.


He lets Kurt sleep on the bed while he sleeps on the couch. There is a lot of unspoken trust and Kurt mistakes it for pity.

When he goes upstairs to say good night, Dave spots Kurt, eyes closed and snuggled in Dave's pajamas. He has a weird fluttering in his stomach, but he forgets about it when Kurt speaks.

"Why'd you do this Dave? Why are you helping me?"

Dave opens his mouth to speak but Kurt persistently cuts him off. "If this is about the bullying, then you should remember that I forgave you."

Dave wants to take those memories and crush them between his hands. "No, Kurt. You're in trouble and I want to help you. I want you to get out of this- this…"

Kurt finishes the sentence for him, his voice flat. "Prostitution business."

Dave tastes bile. "Yes, that."

"Sorry, David. I'm not planning on it." Kurt surprises himself with the determined answer, instantly regretting saying it when Dave's face falls.

"I- okay, g'night" and Dave's gone, the door slamming shut behind him.

Kurt feels scolded and he lies there, unknowingly breathing in the scent of Dave on the pillow, on the covers, and even the pajamas.


It's no surprise that Kurt is gone in the morning. He feels relieved that Kurt didn't take any money and then angry at himself for thinking so badly about Kurt. At least he had the decency to leave a note.

Sorry for the things you saw. Thanks for letting me stay the night.

Love, Kurt

Dave is baffled by the first sentence; it swims through his mind every day until he sees Kurt again. He's sorry for what I saw? How can he be ashamed for my sake?

He's patrolling at a park with Santana when he spots what he calls "solicitation on public grounds." The sun has mostly set, so the two figures he spots are hidden in the shadow of an oak tree.

Santana spots them too, but he puts out a hand to stop her. "I'll handle this, San."

She doesn't like his tone and makes sure he knows that. "Dave, what are you doing?"

"Just wait here, please" and she sighs, standing by as he approaches the figures.

When Dave is within earshot, he sees what looks like a businessman leaning against the tree trunk and a boy kneeling with his head bobbing between the man's legs.

He can hear the obscene suckling sounds and moans and wants to gag at that and the fact that the boy has a hand pulling at his hair with his nose rubbing against the man's pubic hair.

He clears his throat and the man's eyes shoot open. He splutters, trying to form a word, a sentence maybe, but fails and pushes the boy off.

"Ugh, what the fuck?" Kurt's voice is easily recognizable and Dave wants to shake some sense into him. The disgruntled businessman runs off, right into Satana's path. She hooks him by the arm, throws him to the ground and cuffs him.

"I'll take care of him!" she salutes to Dave.

Dave nods, reverting his attention back to Kurt, who's crumpled on the ground and angrily rubbing the sweat and cum off his face.

"You need to stop chasing my goddamn clients away" he says coldly.

Dave feels his face turn red, partly in rage, partly in embarrassment.

"You need to stop giving blow-jobs in a fucking public park."

Kurt is surprised by Dave's tone and vulgar language, but recovers quickly. "The park closes at 8 and there aren't any children around, if that's what you're worried about."

"Yipee-fucking-yay. So your well-being doesn't matter?"

"Not to you, it shouldn't. I can take care of myself."

Dave resists the urge to get violent and stomps back to the car.

"What happened?" Santana asks when he gets back. Dave takes one look at the horrified businessman in the back seat before looking back at Santana and says "you drive." She doesn't argue.


Two months later, it's in a fancy hotel.

No matter how many times Dave begged him to stop, Kurt just doesn't listen.

The hotel has a strict privacy policy, so neither the maids nor the manager want to intervene when there are complaints of a disturbance in one of the rooms.

So the guests in the room next door decide to call the police. Dave's shift is almost over, Santana's on lunch and he really doesn't want to respond to a "disturbing the peace" call, but of course he does anyway.

He's at the door, 651 they said, and he knocks once. No response. He knocks twice, louder this time, and then decides to put his ear to the door. He hears a mix of sounds- somewhere between screams and moans. Lovely.

He knows these doors are too sturdy and too expensive to break down, so he pulls out two safety pins and gets cracking. Granted, it takes 3 minutes too long, and there's sweat on his brow, the lock clicks and the door creaks open.

Dave cautiously steps inside, closing the door behind him as the moans get louder.

He follows the noises into the bedroom and is welcomed to the sight of a boy, naked, on his knees, cuffed to the bed with a very raw red backside and a man spanking him from behind.

"Oh god!" Kurt screams and shakes when he's spanked rather harshly. The man laughs and kneads his ass with his fingers, pinches it and then smacks it again from another angle. "You've been a very bad boy, you need to be punished."

"Yes sir, I've been so bad, punish me!" Kurt begs. Dave and his stomach have just about had enough.

"Okay, show's over." He speaks, not earning the reaction expected. Kurt, of course, whips his head around and glares at him. But the man turns around, not missing a beat, "care to join us?"

Dave wants to punch that smug look off that smug bastards face. "There have been calls of a disturbance. Either stop being so loud, or get the fuck out."

The man's face hardens and instead of complying he does something that grates on Dave's last nerve. He reverts his attention back to Kurt and strikes him hard on the ass again. "The nice officer wants you to be quiet, understand bitch?"

Dave's hand is hovering over his gun, but he decides that he'll use physical force instead and grabs the man by the collar and yanks him off the bed.

"Get out of here before I arrest you, sick fuck."

Then man changes his tune and quickly scrambles to zip up his pants and grabs his jacket before running out of the room.

Kurt groans, his irritation evident. "Goddamit, Dave, I need this money and you keep meddling in things that don't concern you."

Dave is having a rather hard time not staring at the angry red marks on Kurt's round, pale ass. So he settles on closing his eyes.

"Kurt? Where are the keys?"

Kurt turns around and chuckles when he sees Dave trying not to watch him. He's about to respond, but decides against it, smiling devilishly.

"You know… if you want to fuck me, I won't resist."

The change of tone took Dave by surprise- his eyes shoot open and he seems to consider the request as it stays in the air for several minutes.

He tries reasoning. "Kurt, please, just tell me where the keys are."

"Only if you admit that if you weren't an officer, you'd fuck my brains out."

You're killing me, Kurt. Dave moves on autopilot. He walks over to Kurt and grabs his ass firmly, earning a pained moan. He honestly can't stand to see Kurt in so much pain, but he's giving him no choice.

"Tell me where the fucking keys are. Now." He's trying to keep a straight face, despite the small cry that he hears.

Tears well in Kurt's eyes, he gives in and points to the drawer on the bedside table. Dave relaxes the hand on his ass and he sighs with relief.

Dave carefully opens the cuffs without coming in contact with skin too often and Kurt sinks face-first onto the bed. A sheet is pulled over him and footsteps are mostly quiet on the carpet as Dave goes over to the doorway.

"I can admit it, but it won't change anything," he says before leaving Kurt, baffled and confused.