Glee's Klaine to the plot of Fifty Shades of Grey (though I will keep the main characteristics and Personalities of Glee so it's not just like I'm replacing the names). Note this is not a cross-over; also you don't need to have read Fifty Shades to read this (though this will contain Spoilers on the books in case you want to read it later). This is obvious AU so in this Fic Blaine will be older then Kurt and Kurt and Blaine have never met yet. This will be in Kurt's POV
Anastasia Steele = Kurt Hummel
Christian Grey = Blaine Anderson
WARNING: future chapters will contain smut, S&M kinky things, and boy on boy. Don't Like don't read!
Fifty Shades of Klaine: Chapter one
I look in the mirror in concentration trying to get my Hair perfectly in place. I reach for the hairspray only to find it on its last spray. Damn hairspray and Damn Rachel Berry for letting herself succumb to a cold making me do her work. Playing with my hair I realize it's the best I can do with no hairspray. I must remember to pick up more on the way back. Fixing my hair out of my face I stare at myself; big blue eyes, Light brown hair, and flawless pale almost fluorescent skin. Daily moisturizing routines insured it. Fixing on my Favorite Hippo pendant on my Marc Jacobs Jacob I finally looks presentable.
Rachel is my roommate in New York, although I knew her since high school when we were both in show choir together in Lima Ohio. Both of us wanted to get out of that cow town and shared the love and dreams of New York City. Rachel was going to school at a prestigious school called NYADA for drama. I wanted to do the same but my dreams of Broadway had been momentarily squashed when I didn't get in. So while I prepare to try again next year have a job interning in fashion.
Rachel, being the extra-achiever, also works for the student paper, but out of all days pick today to fall ill to a common cold the day she is scheduled an interview a big, newly famous director ( even though I have never actually heard of him).So I have volunteered (though I was pushed to do so) to fill in for her. The thing about Rachel is she will prod and push until she gets what she wants, which is why she was able to get said interview. Apparently this guy was too important then to take much time out of his day to do interviews. Rescheduling would take forever which is why I was filling in. Damn that Rachel Berry and her extra-curricular activities. Rachel is sprawled on the cheap sofa we own.
"Kurt, I'm sorry. Getting that interview was hell and would be hell again to reschedule. As a freshman at NYADA I have to prove myself and blowing this off would be the complete opposite of what I want to achieve. Please," She begs me, her usual loud clear voice sounding raspy and faded. She has her brown hair up in a messy bun on the top of her head, shivering although she has an ugly red sweater with reindeer on it. It's hard to feel some sympathy for that girl with that horrendous sweater on. I should really burn it when she's not looking.
"Of course I'll go Rach. Why don't you try to nap? Do you want something for your throat?"
"Some warm tea please. Not too hot. I have to take good care of my vocal chords. Here are the questions and my disc recorder. You press her to start recording and hit it again to stop."
"Okay, here's your tea. I hope you know I know nothing about this guy." I say icily while inside I start to slowly panic.
"Just ask him the list of questions I wrote for you and you should be fine. Now go traffic is bad and showing up late would make me look bad."
"Yes because it's all about you Rachel" I retort with an eye roll, "I made you some soup for you to warm up later, all vegan. Please don't burn down the apartment while I'm gone".
"Kurt, thank you so much. You don't know how all this means to me. Good Luck!"
Grabbing my Satchel I give her a sarcastic smile, and then head out the door to hail a cab. After managing to catch a cab I slide in with ease and tell the taxi driver the address. The taxi driver is a beefy man with a thick black short beard and beady black eyes wearing a horrible flannel shirt. Suppressing a comment on his fashion sense I lean back onto the cheap fake leather seat. I cannot believe I let Rachel talk me into this. Then again Rachel can talk almost anybody into anything if she blabbers and nags enough. She is talented, argumentative, and highly annoying – and naturally my best friend.
As we set off the traffic in the city is heavy, like it is every day. I don't have to be there until two hours but with the way the traffic is looking the way it is I have no time to spare. My destination is the headquarters of Mr. Anderson's New York Office. It's a huge twenty-story office building, all curved glass and steel, an architect's utilitarian fantasy, with 'Anderson' written discreetly in steel over the glass front doors. It's almost two pm when I arrive, elated that I managed to not be late as I walk into the giant – and very expensive looking –lobby. I am impressed at the glass, steel, and white sandstone styled lobby, trying not to gape at it like an idiot.
Behind the solid dark wooded desk, a very attractive, well groomed, long haired dirty blonde young man smiles pleasantly at me. He is wearing an almost sheer white button down shirt with a sharp charcoal suit jacket and matching dress pants. He looks immaculate.
"I'm here to see Mr. Anderson. Umm Kurt Hummel for Rachel Berry."
"Excuse me one moment Mr. Hummel". He arches his eyebrow slightly as I stand self-consciously before him. I wish I would have asked Isabelle if I could have borrowed something more stunning then what I had. I had made an effort though, and wore what I had spent an hour picking out. Then again it almost takes me that long on a normal day. I put one hand sassily on my hip while the other brushes back a piece of my hair, pretending not to be intimidated.
"Miss Berry is to be expected. Please sign in here Mr. Hummel. You'll then head to the last elevator on the right, press for the twentieth floor". He smiles kindly at me, amused no doubt, as I sign in. He hands me a security pass that has VISITOR very firmly stamped on the front. I can't help my smirk, almost chuckling out loud. Surely it's obvious that I'm just visiting. I don't fit in here at all. Nothing changes after high school, I inwardly sigh. Thanking him, I walk over to the bank of elevators past the two security men who are both smartly dressed in their well-cut black suits. I am impressed by the over-all fashion sense everyone here seems to have.
The elevator lifts me smoothly to the twentieth floor. The doors slide open, and I'm in another large lobby – again all glass, steel, and white sandstone themed. I'm confronted by another desk of sandstone and another young blonde, this time a woman, dressed impeccably in black and white rises to greet me.
"Mr. Hummel, could you wait here, please?" She points to a seated area of comfy looking white leather chairs. Behind the leather chairs is a spacious glass-walled meeting room with an equally spacious dark wood table and at least twenty matching chairs around it. Beyond that, there is a floor-to-ceiling window with a view of New York City. It's a stunning site, and I'm momentarily frozen by the view. Wow. Plopping down on one of the seats I pull out my iphone to pass the time by listening to some music. Nothing soothes my nerves like classic Broadway songs. I wish I knew more about this guy. I don't even know his age. I'm almost halfway 'Someone Else's Story' from Chess when another flawless blonde (though defiantly not naturally) male comes out of a large door to the right. Seriously what is with all the blondes? They look like Barbie-reject clones.
Mr. Anderson will see you in a moment. May I take your jacket?"
"Oh no thank you."
"Have you been offered any refreshment?"
"Um – no." Oh dear, is Blonde Number One in trouble?
Blonde Number Two frowns and eyes the young man at the desk.
"Would you like tea, coffee, water?" she asks, turning his attention back to me.
"A glass of water would be nice. Thank you," I murmur.
"Juan, please fetch Mr. Hummel a glass of water." Her voice is stern. Juan scoots up immediately and scurries to a door on the other side of the foyer.
"My apologies, Mr. Hummel, Juan is our new intern. Please be seated. Mr. Anderson will be another five minutes."
Juan returns with a glass of iced water.
"Here you go Mr. Hummel."
"Thank you."
Blonde Number Two marches over to the large desk, her heels clicking and echoing on the sandstone floor. She sits down, and they both continue their work.
Perhaps Mr. Anderson insists on all his employees being blonde. I'm wondering idly if that's legal, when the office door opens and a tall, elegantly dressed, attractive African-American man with a small fro exits.
He turns and says through the door. "A Meeting this week Anderson."
I don't hear the reply. He turns, sees me, and smiles, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners. June has jumped up and called the elevator. She seems to excel at jumping from her seat. She's more nervous than me!
"Good afternoon gentleman," he says as he departs through the sliding door.
"Mr. Anderson will see you now, Mr. Hummel. Do go through," Blonde Number Two says. I stand rather shakily trying to suppress my nerves. Gathering up my satchel, I abandon my glass of water and make my way to the partially open door.
"You don't need to knock – just go in." She smiles kindly.
A/N: yes it's a cliffhanger! So how was it so far? Please review it would mean a lot to me. Any ideas or feedback is welcomed. Don't forget to follow the story I will be updating at least once a week. (Honestly though reviews of any kind help me feel more encouraged therefore I tend to update faster). – SteviStories