A/n: I absolutely detest this story because I'm having the hardest time writing sex. I might have lost my muse. I don't edit by the way.

Playful Nightmares

"We shouldn't be doing this." His voice whispered hauntingly as the weight against his body grazed against his crotch and the friction made him moan. The more the stranger moved against the other, the more he arched his back and the more his head pushed against the couch in throws of pleasure.

"Just like that… "The stranger's hands gripped at his face with his one hand, keeping his head in that same position where the muscles were shown. "You've been a bad little boy and I know exactly what to do to boys like you." He chuckled as his lips pressed against the muscles, opening his mouth slightly so his teeth could scrape against them. He hand pushed against the boy's head even harder, making the boy squirm as the man repositioned himself, letting his teeth suddenly tear into the others neck.

His eyes opened slowly, wincing from the sudden passing of the sun through the window. Once it was gone his hands moved from under the blanket and rubbed his eyes. He didn't know what time it is or where he was but he was sure he was back in his apartment. After nightmares he always found himself a bit confused to whether he were lying in bed in New York or back in his big house in Ohio but he knew this small loveseat was a part of his apartment.

He groaned in discomfort when his legs stretched over the arm of the leather seat and his skin peeled off of it roughly. He could hear the front door closing as he sat up in the small chair, pulling the blankets off of his body. "Rachel?" Calling, he stood up from the seat and turned around as he stretched his limbs.

"Yeah?" The young woman came from behind the door with a large paper bag in her arms and headed off into their small apartment kitchen.

"What did you order?" It only took a few seconds for him to feel it, the pressure in his head pounding away at him. He moved his hands to his head, holding on like it could help him feel better.

"Chinese food. You came home at nine in the morning and passed out on the couch." She set the bags down on the counter and pulled the string to click on the light.

"I don't remember anything that happened last night." He picked up the blanket and spread it out, folding it in half and then in half again before laying it down on the couch. "All I remember is that we went to that new bar a few streets away—"

Rachel appeared from behind the kitchen wall. "And you went off with the owner of the bar and had sex."

Kurt chuckled. "I did not. You think I wouldn't remember that?"

"You were wasted." She walked up to him, pulling at the collar on his neck. "And you're covered in hickeys." Kurt looked down as Rachel moved her hand away, skin bruised around his chest and shoulders but he'd need a mirror to see the rest. "You threw up in the taxi."

"I don't even remember his name." He admitted and Rachel laughed as the doorbell rang throughout the living room. She went to the door to get it, chatting with someone at the door while Kurt moved into the kitchen and unpacked the bags of food. The smell even made him nauseous.

"For someone who doesn't remember his name, he remembered yours."

"What are you talking about?" He looked towards the walkway when Rachel came by, astonished by two dozen red roses in her arms.

"Kurt, I had a great time with you. I hope you come out and play again. Blaine." She read the card aloud and Kurt blushed, taking the roses from her and smelling them. "You do know that red roses symbolize love and desire." She giggled.

"No, some of these are darker like a blood red. The darker the red is supposed to mean regret and sorrow." He didn't want to admit that a man he met just last night had feelings for him. "Can you get a vase for them? I'm going to take a shower and go see him."

Rachel made a childish sound before putting the roses down near the microwave and grabbing a vase from the the shelf above her.

She could hear the bathroom on the other side of the kitchen as the water turned on and she gave a bit of a snicker. She knew—even if Kurt did not want to admit it—that he would have a boyfriend by the end of the evening.

Kurt found himself at the entrance of Bittersweet, the same bar he had apparently gone to the night before. He couldn't remember who he met or the people he talked to but he recognized the décor when he walked inside and the scent of Grand Marnier. He scanned the club, a simple lower floor where hundreds of people were out dancing in costumes, caged dancers that were connected from the third floor when he looked up and pole dancers.

An average club.

Extravagant which was also in his field of taste.

It could be better.

He walked over to the bar which was a bit deserted. "Well look who it is." The bartender's voice was familiar, his dark skin as well.

"Hi...?" He cocked his head to the side and slid into one of the black seats.

"Bourbon? Brandy Daisy? What would you like?" The bartender had his elbows on the counter, reaching forward over it in a playful manner.

"Blaine." He breathed and the man nodded, smiling as he stepped away from the counter and called over another worker. He asked her to get Blaine and she nodded, heading towards the swirled stairs that led to the upper floors.

"I'll get you a scotch." The bartender spoke again as Kurt sat down, clinking glasses as he grabbed one and placed it in front of the boy. "What's wrong?"

"Uhm...I don't remember anything that happened last night." He kept his voice low as he watched the liquid enter the clear glass.

"Really now."

"Yea. I just woke up really confused and I don't remember you or even-"

"Blaine!" The bartenders voice became loud as the dark haired man walked in front of the bar counter.

"Hey Wes." He leaned against the wood in front of Kurt.

"Hi Blaine..." The name felt natural coming out of his mouth." He quickly downed his drink before get up off of his seat. "Can I talk to you?"

"Hn, of course." He turned back the direction he came, putting his hand over Kurt's shoulder and leading him off up the circled stairs.

Kurt looked around, feeling a bit cautious of his surroundings. He could remember little images from the night before, such as what he had seen downstairs and everything leading to this door. This large black door that Blaine opened by putting his first and middle finger on either side of the knob and turning. The black flooring turned into dark wood and clicked when Kurt walked over it in his boots.

The dim lights flickered and the door was shut behind them. Kurt was beginning to feel as if he were in a haunted house and even he made it to the end of hall someone would jump out and scare him. He tensed up and Blaine only lead him down that hall and the connected one. There was another door at the end, black like the first one but this one was already opened just a crack.

"Go ahead inside." Blaine urged him on and Kurt began to walk the rest of the way down, hand lightly pushing the door opened and entering inside of it. It looked to be an office and Kurt seemed to have memories from the night before flood back into his mind. They all seemed to involve his body pressed up against the wall and Blaine inside of him. He shook his head and sat down in the room, a comfortable black chair in front of a modern desk. It was a little too dark for his taste, gray walls and a bit of a comic book feel. "Sorry about that." Blaine's voice came a few minutes later, shutting the door and heading over across the desk to sit across from the other.

"No...it's fine." He felt awkward in such a large, dully painted room.

"What did you want to talk about?" He leaned back in his chair. "Did you get the flowers I sent you?"

"Yes and they were lovely but-"

"But what?"

Kurt sighed, looking up at the man. He thought Blaine's hair was tattered in curls and looked like an unkempt version of Alex O'Loughlin. He was good looking though. The outline between his long jacket that portrayed a good image of what his biceps looked like underneath. He was honestly pretty impressed with the other. "I just don't remember anything from last night..." It felt so vague in his mind.

"Well of course you wouldn't." His hand knocked on the desk. "I can show you though..."

"O-okay...?" He cocked his head to the side, holding his hands tightly against the arms of the chair.

"Place your hand out, palm up." He spoke lifting himself from his chair and moving over to Kurt who turned, doing what he had asked. Blaine leaned against the desk, fingers touching his hand and moving his mouth towards it. He reached down and kissed his fingers. "No, put your arm and fingers out too." He watched Kurt's hand move again, arm pulling out straight and his fingers spreading out and then collecting themselves together to lay flat. His hand began to shake after it was moved and Blaine's lips moved, kissing the center of his hand.

Kurt felt confused, questioning if the kissing of his hand was indicative to other parts Blaine's lips may have touched. He was beginning to feel numb when he felt Blaine's teeth drag over his skin and and against his wrist. He wanted to speak but nothing came out of his mouth.

"Calm down." Blaine spoke as his tongue flicked against his wrist.

He winced when he felt the teeth bite against him again, sucking at the same skin as to leave hickeys on his skin. When he moved his mouth Kurt found himself looking down at his wrist, skin broken into, bruising and bleeding quite predominately. "Bla-Blaine, what did you do?" He pulled his wrist against the cloth of his jacket to soak up the blood.

"You saw your neck I hope." He had a smug look on his face, crossing his arms and leaning back on he desk.

"I need to go." Kurt shook his head and got up off of the chair. "If I had remembered I don't think I would have came back. I'm sorry." He moved away from the chair and began to leave the room.

"Stop!" Blaine's voice rang through his ears and Kurt stopped the moment he reached the closed door. "Come back here." Blaine watched the other turn around, his eyes a dull green and his hands falling to his sides. He began to walk slowly towards Blaine, sitting back down in the same chair. "Good." He breathed and then smirked. "Now..." Blaine eyed the other as he reached out his hands, pulling them against the zipper and button of his pants.

Kurt's eyes became duller, the shade darker—almost black—as his hands reached for the button. He unsnapped it, sliding the zipper down and pulling at the fabric of the pants. Blaine moved away from the desk to give him the access to do such a thing, removing his jacket in the process and throwing it on his chair behind him.

Blaine felt the brunet's fingers under the elastic of his boxers. They were smooth and slowly removed the second layer of material on his body. When it was removed, Blaine's hand touched the back of Kurt's head, using his hand to guide himself into the others mouth. Kurt's tongue dragging down as the cock had entered into his mouth. Half way through and he only found Blaine trying to push himself in until the hilt.

He swallowed with the back of his throat until Blaine was happy with the percentage of his cock inside of his mouth. He knew that if Kurt hadn't been in his trance, he wouldn't be able to keep up with the thrusts inside of his mouth.

The door opened a few moments as soon as Blaine could feel the wet appendage drag against his cock. The blonde women bowed her head. "I'm sorry to disturb you but did you make sure-" She stopped before finishing her sentence.

"He's a good slave, don't you think?"

"Yes sir. Just make sure you put him back where you found him."