Title: Strippers, Closets and Broken Things

Authors: vkdemon and karomeled

Pairing: Kurt/Dave

Rating: Mature

Genre: AU, drama, romance

Warnings: homophobia, explicit sex, slut/sexworker-shaming, cissexism, non-con (in later chapters), violence (in later chapters)

Summary: Homophobia, a strip club and one 'mostly' male exotic dancer do not a good 21st birthday make. Dave is entrenched in a world he's never know and his bitter tongue and penchant for assumptions puts him deep in the sights of one 'Elizabeth' Hummel.

AN : This is a work of fiction. The characters are property of Fox and we hold no rights to them and make no profit.

This work deals with many topics that are delicate and specific. We are not experts or medical professionals. Everything described is based of our knowledge and some research into the topic which is by no means exhaustive.

If you're interested in a list of terms we used (that the reader might not know) and some links to sites on intersex, diversity of gender identity and other resources, you can find them here: karomeld dot tumblr dot com / tagged / SCaBT

trick: (slang) a client of a prostitute.

Chapter 1- Ask For Elizabeth

Life's good.

The thought came to him between chapters of "Sports Ethics for Sports Management Professionals". Normally, Dave tried not to think too much about his life. It was futile, it was a waste of time, a distraction derailing him from building his successful future and sustaining the illusion of an ideal American son.

It was depressing.

He knew his life could have turned out worse. But he knew it could also be better.

Dave managed to survive High School hoping that by the age of 20 he'll get a grip on his life, that he'll have it shaped into something resembling his dreams. He tried not to think too much about his life, but today he was ending the 21th year of his existence. That's a shitload of time, years longer than he thought it'll take him to stop running from his problems. The High School Dave thought, naively, that moving out from home and changing his circle of friends will somehow alter his life, make it possible for him to start out new. But his life quickly fell into the same rut, the habits of dodging the truth proved too strong.

Dave didn't come out. He wasn't sure by this point if he'll ever be able to, because his life was good so far, easy even, and if he didn't manage it yet, he won't do it once he'll get immersed by the homophobic environment of sport business. The thought that he missed his chance, that he'll have to play the act forever, was killing him in those rare moments of cogitation, but he tried not to be a pussy about it, because he had no one to blame but himself.

Azimio pounded on the door of David Karofsky's dormitory. Dave slouched on his chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

"BIG D!" Azimio, big broad and boisterous as ever best friend, bellowed as he raddled the door. "Come on man! 21! We are going to get you so drunk you black out!"

Dave stood up, threw his book on the bed, and moved to open the door. "Hey, Z!" he yelled back cheerfully. Or at least he hoped so. "Look, man, I love the idea, but I don't feel like going out today. Maybe next time?" he asked hopefully.

"Nope!" Azimio's grin split his face. "You never know how to have fun D-man. I'm going to rock your world because who's the best damn best friend on the planet?" He tugged Dave out of the room and out toward the waiting cab. "Me, that's who."

"Yeah." Dave cleared his throat. "You. Right." A part of his mind was nagging him to escape, lie and shirk. Instead he got into the cab without any protest, because what was he supposed to say? It's not like he didn't want to have fun and drink. But "fun" for Azimio meant dimmed clubs and hookers sticking their boobs into people's faces, fuck Dave's life. He gritted his teeth, half-heartedly listening to his friend's chatter.

"You are a lucky man." Azimio continued on his ramble as he tipped the waitress in a mini-skirt and devil horns, and ordered a special for Dave. "I love you like a brother man and I know what you need. Any girl in the place. You tell me which one you like and you are going to the VIP room."

Dave felt oddly relieved at that. VIP room meant no witnesses, right? Maybe he could just give the whore Z's money, wait some time and thank him later for his generosity. "I love you too, man." He said when they came up to the bar.

The trick with hanging out with Z's was to make his bro drunk before he'd notice that Dave's interest in women around is never truly enthusiastic. "Two beers, please" he said to the awfully tatooed bartender girl. He looked around the room in case Azimio bugged him about picking up a girl.

The horrible thumping music of the place shifted. A crackle came over the sound system before the thumping beat changed. The center stage and cat-walk lit up. The electronic effects brought the back curtain to be thrown open. Adam Lambert's 'Your Entertainment ' pulsed over the speakers. The long pale body strutted onto the stage. Every inch of the arms were pale and soft, the stripper's hair was long and blond, for a moment covering the stripper's eyes.

Dave turned around at the change and took a sip from his bottle. Apparently they was in for quite a show. He watched the dancer emerging from behind the backstage, moving her body to the music. He glanced at Azimio when the man catcalled, and whooped after him, feigning interest in the women on stage.

She shifted and swayed to the music, flirting along the edge of the bar with each man , tips pressed at her slightly pear hips. Each piece of cheap latex stripped away. Unlike most of the other girls this one's bra piece was illusive in it's padding. Kurt had spent long enough on the stage to know the clothing tricks to keep his reality hidden. He made it to the end of the stage, the light in his eyes. He beckoned toward where one of the girls told him was a big spender birthday boy.

Dave swallowed hard. It wasn't the first time when they went to a strip club, but he always made sure to keep on the side to not give any of the "babydolls" excuse to bother him. Now it was different. The dancer was rolling her hips right before his face, her scrawny butt filling his vision. Whatshouldiwhatdoido run through his head as he looked around. All the men were crying raucously, obviously enjoying the lewd spectacle. Dave plastered a grin on his face and whistled when the girl shook her breast. He felt Azimio pushing bills into his hand and petting him on the back, so he slip it under the strap of her scant pants.

Now that the man was close Kurt could see his hand tremble. There were plenty of reasons for that, fear, adrenaline, underage. This man with his big broad shoulders and his fake smile was not underage, or with a wedding ring. Kurt needed the money that would come from a trick tonight. The gas had been turned off again since his room-mate had gotten herself back with her abusive dick of a baby daddy and without her half of rent he couldn't keep it on at the same time.

"Oh baby." He licked his lips, his voice the same as usual. It was high enough naturally no one could tell he'd lives 80% of life as a man.

Dave forced himself to smile while watching her dancing. He hoped his nervousness was not showing to the others but the whole situation was making him really tired really fast. He was sick of pretending to be aroused by ridiculous outfits, high heels and long hair. The girl seemed more that glad for the money, so Dave thought that maybe if he'll give her more she'll leave him alone. He waved the rest of the bills he had in his hands before her, and threw it under her feet.

Kurt immediately bent down, gathering it up to press it into his bra. He licked his lips and climbed off the stage right into Dave's lap. He faced away from Dave, arching back. "Look whose lucky day it is. You want some private time big boy?" He ground down and...wait... Where was the obligatory ridiculously vulgar hard-on? "Your very lucky day."

The plan was not working. The plan was definitely not working because now Dave had a fucking stripper right onto his lap, grinding into him and pressing down onto his traitorous soft dick. He heard Azimio laughing jovially next to him and reminding about his offer to pay for VIP room. Dave tensed. He couldn't just say no. He gently pushed the women off him and stood up. "Private time sounds right, sweetie." He smiled at her and let himself be lead to the room.

Kurt pushed up and sauntered, keeping one of Dave's thick hands in his. He pressed Dave to go in first. Kurt was tugged aside by the huge black man obviously jeering on Limp Dick. A wad of 20's pressed into his hand.

"Give him the full ride pretty. I know you do it."

"What a good friend." Kurt cooed as he counted out 200 dollars. He shut the door behind him and the thumping music was dulled.

The small room was filled with a dimmed chocolate light and a smell Dave didn't want to think about. The thought of doing anything sexual in a place like this disgusted him. He briefly searched his mind for excuses to not have sex. He folded his arms on his chest. Why the hell should he explain himself to the whore anyway, he thought. She got her money already, everything will go smoothly from now on, Dave convinced himself.

The dancer slid the blond wig off, his hair was bound down under a hairnet with pins. He slowly began to undo them as he sat on the long circular couch that was just as good as a bed given the size.

"You... look different without the fake hair. Prettier, actually," Dave said before he could stop himself.

Kurt shook out his brown hair, short, but long enough to spike up with gel when he had the luxury. "Thank you. It's shorter than what most men want." Kurt fluffed it, taking in the man whose dick hadn't bothered to rise during the dance.

"So, what's your deal?" Kurt's voice dropped slightly lower, the breathy seductive tone done away with. There wasn't any need to play games now that they were alone.

"My... deal?" Dave swallowed hard and looked around nervously. "My deal is that i don't feel like fucking some chick like you, but I have a very stubborn friend who wanted to give me a birthday gift." He shrugged and circled the room. "So, if you could just stay here for a while. That'd be enough."

"Friend of Dorothy?" Kurt asked with a little smirk.

"What Dorothy?" Dave looked at her confused and pressed the palm of his hand to the couch, testing its quality. The surface barely bent under him, revealing a hard inside. He really shouldn't have expected anything but cheap shit in this kind of place. He sat down couple feet from her. He didn't know any girl named Dorothy, was the stripper high or something? Addicted to drugs, definitely. Dave eyed her with judgmental stare.

Kurt began to gather up the money tucked into his bra. He carefully smoothed the bills. If they were too crumpled the ATM machine wouldn't take them later. "What I meant is: you're gay."

"What? Who told you that?" The words were out of his mouth before he even fully registered what she was talking about, and he knew the remark was stupid, but the old instinct to flight or fight took over. "I don't have to be fucking gay just because i don't want to screw a whore." He growled and shifted on the bed, uncomfortable under her scrutinizing stare.

"Your cock for one." Kurt hissed out, the insulting word rubbing him the wrong way. He'd heard it plenty but it didn't stop it from being just as bad as fag had been. "Don't worry. The whore doesn't want to screw you either." He unhooked the bra, careful to keep the money pinned to the inner right cup, and set it to the side, revealing his flat masculine but thin chest.

"I-I have... a condition..." Dave started with the futile defense, but gave up quickly.

He felt that stupid urge again, to just stop denying it. Maybe even tell her the truth, since she figured it pretty damn well herself. But having a confessor in a whore was beyond pathetic, he doubted anyway she'd care to listen to his sob story about years of lying about his own identity. In about 30 minutes they will be able to come out of there and never see each other again.

He snorted at her remark. Yeah, big fucking surprise, no one is interested in Dave Karofsky. Dave saw the motion in his peripheral vision and looked up just to frown at her further. "What are you..." the words were cut off when his gaze slid down the stripper's chest. The boobs were sort of missing from the picture. Dave licked his lips briefly, and looked away, afraid of being caught staring. "Geez, your kind just can't keep your clothes on for a moment."

"A whore, one of a 'kind'." Kurt spat. He had his money and the blackmail material to keep Limp Dick from squawking about Kurt not performing as paid to. "No one you would care to at least show the basic respect to. Human to human. Or does 'cross-dresser' fall under that homophobic de-humanizing umbrella of yours?" Kurt's bitch attitude was reduced these days. Not enough food or sleep wore down on one's ability to dish it. This trick seemed to have uncanny ability to make Kurt want to burn him alive with a wrath not seen in full form since High School...since before he ran away from home.

The comment made Dave feel bad, but he wasn't one to back away from a fight. He opened his mouth to throw in her face how hilarious it is that a prostitute is talking about respect, but he managed to stop himself. Dave figured that antagonizing her against him could really bite him in the ass. The chick seemed kind of crazy already, and he didn't want to know what she'd do when furious. He decided to pacify the situation.

"Look, I don't care if you're wearing crosses or whatever, and I'm not a fucking homophobe, so leave it. Geez, you don't have to act like you're PMSing or something."

"How can anyone be this stupid? Cross-dressing. As in I'm a male dressing as a woman. Because I certainly don't match the Chippendale's stereotype." Kurt stood, a hip jutting out, looking down at Dave.

"You don't know a thing about me. Now, Closet-case. Since you're so set on being deep in that state; I'm going to do you a favor. I'm betting that my flat chest is starting to rile you."

Dave leaned back in surprise. "Wait, what are you talking about?" He wasn't sure if he heard correctly or if his stupid mind was playing tricks on him. "You're a guy?" He felt unbelievably stupid for asking about something that should be obvious. Well, he thought it was. The girl... man...? didn't look like a dude. Was she mocking him?

"Mostly." Kurt said softly, not expecting Dave to catch it. "Pants off and spread your knees. You just triple paid for this service. Maybe getting off with a male will help you realize what you are and that you can never outrun it."

Dave didn't need any proof that he couldn't escape the gay. He did try it in the past, but now he already knew there's no running away and accepted that.

He felt a thrill shooting through him in reaction to that demanding voice and attitude and swallowed nervously. According to Azimio and any other "bro" Dave got laid fairly regularly. And yeah, sometimes he would make out with drunk girls at a fraternity party, until they decided passing out was more interesting. Dave figured it didn't really count. He never went that far with a man, never even kissed a guy before. He was too afraid to flirt with anyone he met in college and going to gay bars elicited his paranoid fear of being caught by someone he knew. Inability to act on his attraction didn't lower it in anyway. He craved the intimacy, contact with others. But behind that there was also the regular want, the need to feel, touch and taste. He trembled slightly when the whore came up to him. He was half hard solely because of a promise of something happening, but the still functioning part of his brain was screaming that he shouldn't agree to this. He slid a hand to his crotch, uncertain of what to do. He tried to divert her (his?) attention by asking, "What do you mean by "mostly"?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. A shy, virginal, closet case. How charming. He moved closer, putting on his bedroom eyes. The dancer licked over his bottom lip. "Mostly doesn't matter to you right now. Mostly means my mouth and my hands and my chest are all male and all yours."

Dave breathed harshly through his nose and stared at the man's mouth. All yours. He fantasized about it so many times. His hands acted as if they had mind on their own ,and suddenly he found himself with pants down around his ankles. It'd be rude to let Azimio's generosity go to waste, he reasoned with himself. "What, so your ass is off limits for me? I thought the clients pay for the whole package."

Kurt tensed immediately before rolling his shoulders and dissipating the tension. He made muscle pliant, enticing. "Choose one. Only one."

"That's not really fair, is it?" Dave murmured. "I-I want your mouth." Dave stuttered. He felt the crimson blush heating up his cheeks. "On me. I want you to suck me off."

Kurt slid to his knees in one elegant motion. He hated the dull thunk of knees hitting the floor that had marked his early days. It was so graceless. No, he'd perfected coming down like a dancer, soundless and smooth. He leaned forward, his upturned nose nuzzling right into the thick patch of dark hair.

"WAIT," Dave almost shouted. Suddenly he felt oddly embarrassed and self-conscious. He cupped the stripper's cheek in his right hand and smiled shyly down on him. "What's your name?"

Kurt looked up, huge blue eyes filling with confusion. "Only a handful of men ever ask." Kurt voice went soft as disconnected as the gentle sentimental inquiry in the dirty back room of a strip club... "Since you know I am male... You can call me Kurt. Now enjoy." He turned his head to kiss the inside of Dave's wrist, right at the pulse.

Dave felt warm at the simple, affectionate gesture. But then the man focused on his task and Dave gasped out loud. "You're.. really good at this Kurt." He moaned feeling the hot wet pressure around his cock.

Kurt hummed in response, listening to Dave's sounds. He started slow, suckling at the tip of David before beginning the slide, getting more of the man in. His hands came up, one resting on the inside of Dave meaty thigh and the other cupping Dave's sac.

The sensation felt incredible and Dave finally understood why guys in porn movies are making all those noises during blowjobs. He certainly didn't seem to be able to shut up. Kurt's tongue was everywhere and when he added his hands to the play Dave was forced to bit hard on his bottom lip. He didn't want to come yet, but he was getting close with an astounding speed. His left hand combed through Kurt's hair and clenched there after one particularly pleasurable trick, but the other one stayed on the man's cheek, caressing it gently.

A hand clenching in Kurt's hair was normal. The touch on his cheek however as not. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was unusual. Variations from the norm always made him nervous. There was an unpredictable element to it that usually led to violence in his line of work.

Dave relished in the feel of soft skin under the palm of his hand. It might be the only time he'd get that close with other man, so he wanted to use that time as fully as possible, not missing on any sensation. He watched Kurt working his cock in and out of his mouth, the beautiful little mouth stretch around it tightly. He made his best effort not to thrust into the man, scared of gagging him. He wasn't of very impressing length, but his cock was thick, just like the rest of his body. He could feel it slid over whore's velvet tongue, into the tight throat, and god, how is he ever going to get off with his hand after that?

Kurt continued at the task; he teased his right hand back behind Dave's balls to his perineum. Very carefully the stripper's short index nail drug along the sensitive strip of skin and nerves.

Kurt reach for his balls and did... something that made Dave's thighs tremble and he came with a quiet growl that didn't reveal the force of his orgasm.

Kurt knew better then to gag. He patiently waited for the seed to fill his mouth before pulling off so that the last few jolts would paint his cheek and neck. It was a skill, an artful little addition to his service and he knew it was well appreciated. He might be years away from wrapping himself in only the finest clothing, but he still kept up appearances in his own way. The perfect, artfully done facial was one of them.

Dave opened his eyes. He didn't remember shutting them up but, well, all his thoughts were covered by pleasant haze of post-orgasmic bliss. He looked down at Kurt and winced, jolted back to reality.

"Oh god. I'm so sorry. I didn't notice..." He dragged his hand over Kurt's chin trying to wipe the cum off the man's face. "Gross."

Kurt snorted, having just finished swallowing the rest. He pulled away from the wiping, really it was just going to spread it. "Stop that. What do you think these rooms are for?" Kurt steadied himself with one hand on the floor, the other tugged a box from under the bed filled with wet wipes, condoms, lube and a few spare plastic bagged sizes of men's boxers. He pulled out a wet wipe and began to gingerly dab at the sticky seed.

"Oh. Right." Dave murmured watching Kurt's abulation.

He didn't know much about brothel's etiquette. Was this it? Were they done here? Was he supposed to suck Kurt off too? He wanted to use this time and learn something new: how to make a guy feel as incredible as Kurt just made him... He bit his lip and placed his hands under Kurt's shoulder blades, then slid them down his back on his hips and let them travel towards the man's groin. "Would you like me to to return the favor?" He murmured.

"You absolutely cannot!" Kurt slapped Dave's hand away quick as a snake. The last thing he needed was some trick nosing around in his ... odd genitalia, asking idiotic likely demeaning questions, if their previous conversation was any indication. David's other hand was still on his hip, preventing him from going too far away without risk of angering David as a client.

Dave eyes widened at the spurt of anger. "I was just offering. I know I'm probably bad, but I wouldn't, like, hurt you or whatever." He pulled away from the other man. "It's just that... you made me feel really good. So I thought... nevermind. Thank you, Kurt."

"Orgasm scrambled your brain already?" Kurt responded in full defensive high bitch mode. "You forgot the early conversation about mostlya guy? I do not want you going anywhere near there, alright. You're welcome for the oral. Good to know it's a job appreciated. I'm sure your friend will be thrilled." Kurt hadn't felt the need to slam up his walls as high or as fast as this in a very long time. Tricks usually didn't talk much or want to reciprocate.

"Oh my god. I'm sorry I said anything, I guess being polite is frown upon here." Dave didn't know what it was about people yelling at him, but it always made him act out. "Wait, so are you a guy or not? What does mostly mean, like you're not sure or what?" He huffed.

Kurt rolled his eyes and was tempted to make a rather undignified groan of frustration. "It means I'm not normal... physically. I've know I'm male and have since I was young. Are we done? You don't need to worry about time or seeming straight in front of your friend now." Kurt just finished strapping and clasping the bra back on.

"OH." Dave gasped. "I get it. Fuck, I can be so slow." He shook his head. "How long ago did you get the STD? Is it serious? Have you been to the doctor already? I can give you money, that kind of things should never be ignored." He stepped up closer again.

"What? Seriously! Stop. Just stop. Look, I understand. You feel good. You're floating on a cloud of endorphins that are all telling you to be affectionate and care. It's natural. You want to show you care and despite being incredibly ill-educated I appreciate that. No, I have no STDs. No, you can't get it. It's apart of the way my body developed, natural." Kurt rubbed at his temple, not yet noticing Dave advancing toward him.

"I felt good couple minutes ago, before you said there's something wrong with you. I just worry, is that a crime?" Dave shifted awkwardly on his feet. However... unusual the circumstances, Kurt gave him his first sexual experience. Okay, so maybe Kurt was right and Dave just felt temporarily connected to him. But it didn't change the fact, that this right moment, he needed to make sure Kurt would be okay after they go out of this room. "But if it's not dangerous for your health, then why are you so jumpy about it. Everyone has something about themselves they don't like."

"Everyone does. And no one likes being prodded about it. I've gotten enough hell over it to last a lifetime." Kurt glanced to the awkward male. "If your really that interested you can always come back around." He sighed and reached out to pat Dave's arm.

"Just ask for Elizabeth."