A/N: Since so few of my fills for these prompts have been Halloween themed, I made this one on Halloween. Guilt assuaged! xD
Written for the Kurtoberfest prompt 'candy'. Warning for mention of strip clubs.
Sebastian races back to his dorm after class, backpack hanging by one strap from his right shoulder, bouncing off his spine as he runs. The edge of his pathology text book digs into his back, but he doesn't stop to readjust it, and he doesn't let himself think about it. It's Friday, and already after five o'clock since his last lecture before the weekend is a whopping, mind-numbing five hours long and always seems to run over (probably because their professor doesn't know the definition of the word fun, and hasn't been out on a date since Carter was president). Normally it's only a short jog from Schwartz Lecture Hall across the street to Greenberg Hall, but tonight happens to be Halloween, and aside from the parties starting up around town, and the decorations being added to decorations that have already been up most of the month, he has to dodge several small flocks of kids in costume, being led from the children's hospital by some of the student ambassadors, Trick-or-Treating at the more PG-rated locations on campus.
The sky has gone from dim to dark, and he's already almost been 'tricked' once (by some pre-teens armed with a dozen eggs) when Sebastian finally makes it to his room. His roommates – Jamie and David, both oncology majors - are already there, getting ready to go out, which means they're both wearing black jeans, some sort of comic book character t-shirt, and a black plastic mask they bought at Target that will pass as a costume. They're both draped over the couch, legs stretched out over each arm, watching Parks and Recreation on Netflix, and breaking into a bag of bite-sized Kit Kats they picked up for the Trick-or-Treaters.
From the mass of shiny gold wrappers littering the coffee table, Sebastian assumes the bag of Twix is already gone.
Sebastian doesn't say hello to them. He barely looks at them as he rushes past to his room. He quickly changes into a clean pair of dark blue jeans and a forest green Henley, grabs his peacoat, and heads back out to the door. He doesn't have time to shower, so he stops off at the bathroom to splash on another handful of aftershave and run a wet hand through his hair to freshen his look.
"Hey, Seb!" Jamie says through a mouth full of chocolate. "Where are you going?"
"Out," Sebastian answers, not looking at Jamie directly while he chews.
"Oh yeah?" David says. David went to Dalton with Sebastian. They roomed in the same wing. He's used to Sebastian's one-word responses to slightly personal questions. "Well, there's a huge Halloween party going down in the Village. I heard it's going to be awesome. Thad down the hall has some extra tickets if you want to go."
"Can't," Sebastian says, throwing on his coat and double-checking his pockets for his wallet and his keys.
"But, why can't you?" Jamie whines.
"Yeah," David says. "We've been looking forward to partying with you all week."
"I'm going out for some candy," Sebastian says distractedly, opening the door.
"Ooo," Jamie says, "could you pick me up some…"
"No," Sebastian says, racing out without looking back. He has a party of his own to get to, and as far as he's concerned, no one else is invited.
It was a fluke how Sebastian found him.
He had taken on a double work load this semester in the hopes of qualifying for an internship he's had his eye on since freshman year. But that amount of work meant absolutely no social life – not even his usual last resort fare of a blow job in the bathroom, and night after night with the Flesh Jack had stopped doing anything for him. A bit overwhelmed and desperate for a shot and a lap dance to take the edge off, he went searching for a strip club. He found one called Savage Men that got good reviews on Google, so he caught a cab and went there first. He'd felt kind of ridiculous looking up Google reviews for strip clubs, but he was glad he did instead of messing around. This was definitely the place he wanted. The drinks weren't watered down, the music was good, and the guys were gorgeous.
But one in particular captured his attention.
The man looked like he could be a water polo player, or maybe a dancer. He had an exceptional physique – long legs, elegant arms, a strong but not too developed back - quite different from the other hard bodied and muscular men he danced with. Sebastian had already had a handful of drinks, was fresh out of ones, and it was getting kind of late, but he hung around the bar to watch the man dance for a little while.
As soon as he stepped out of the shadows and into the lights, Sebastian recognized who he was. And he couldn't believe his eyes. He stuck around longer, totally just to jeer – until the man on stage started taking off his clothes. Till he started grinding on the pole. Till he hopped off stage to give the man seated in a wrap-around leather chair to the right of Sebastian a lap dance. This wasn't the girlie boy with the gay face that Sebastian remembered from high school.
Puberty had blessed Kurt Hummel in a big way.
Except, that's not what they call him here. Kurt's stage name is deliciously inappropriate.
"Happy Halloween, gents and ladies and gents, and thank you all so much for joining us here for our Friday Night Fright Revue." The packed room roars, and Sebastian applauds, ready to get this show on the road. "To get our spooky party started off right, let's give a big Savage Men welcome toCaaaaaaaaaandy!"
They crank the music up, the beat thumping so loud that Sebastian can't make out any of the actual notes, but he can feel the rhythm creeping up his legs, almost zeroing straight in on his crotch, and he understands why they turn it up so high. If he wasn't hot and bothered when he first walked in, he's definitely raring to go now, with those constant vibrations pulsing below his belt. Lights begin to strobe in festive Halloween red, orange, and black, and Kurt steps out from behind the shimmery silver tinsel curtain. He's a vision of pure sin in wet-look black vinyl platform boots that go all the way up to his thighs, over black fishnet stockings, and a pair of blood red vinyl booty shorts so tight they make his ass look like an apple (and God, does Sebastian want a bite of that). He haughtily tosses a black feather boa around his neck, lets it trail down his body, the ends swaying and brushing the bulge in his shorts as he walks. Aside from black eye liner and lipstick, and glittery red polish on his nails, he's wearing nothing else.
Sebastian paid at the door for a VIP seat right next to the stage that includes priority access with the flash of a ticket attached to a lanyard around his neck. It's good for lap dances in a private room whenever he wants, as many times as he wants. As far as he can see, he's one of only three people that have one. He dished out a grand for it, but it's going to be worth it. He has plans to use it so often that by the time he leaves for the night, it should be smoking. He kicks back with his feet up on his table, and about $3,000 in singles burning a hole in his pocket.
Kurt walks down the runway, does a single turn around the pole, then crouches low at the edge of the stage, plucking dollar bills from the hands of men waving them in his face. Sebastian and another man reach for their lanyards at the same time. Sebastian flashes his lap dance card, mean-mugging the man across from him. The man smirks and rolls his eyes, but Sebastian dials up the glare, and the man across the way backs down, dropping his card on his neck, turning his head away, and pouting. Kurt smiles Sebastian's way, unable to see his customer's face clearly with the strobe lights flashing in his eyes.
He jumps down off the stage to take the number of his first private customer. Only then, away from the upturned glare of the lights, does he notice who it is, and stops cold. Sebastian takes the opportunity to pull out a dollar bill and slide it beneath the super tight waistband of Kurt's shorts.
"There's plenty more where that came from," Sebastian says, patting his pocket and smiling till the corners of his mouth reach his ears.
"Se—sebastian?" Kurt stutters in disbelief, even risking leaning a bit closer to see for sure, and Sebastian nods.
"Yes, sir," he says with a wink. "Hello, Candy."