The Storm
Chapter One
By Gayforkurt
Summary: David Karofsky is a billionaire who collects beautiful things – and people. Having seen the fabulous and famous countertenor Kurt Hummel perform, he kidnaps the diva – and suffers for it. NB: Warnings for dubious consent, some bitchiness and sex. Enjoy!
Rated: M
A/N: This is a slightly different take on two of my favorite boys. Please let me know what you think of an obsessive Dave, a manipulative Kurt and the chemistry between them. Oh, and Puck might be playing a significant role here. Please, reviews are always welcome. Enjoy!.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters; Murphy et al do, unfortunately. I'm just playing with them and plan to return them unharmed.
The long, gleaming black limousine prowled through the night, its lone backseat occupant deep in thought. The driver, having raised the dark privacy panel between him and his employer, smirked wryly, knowing the man was plotting something devious. His boss was one of the richest men in the world and when he saw something he wanted, he always got it. Not many people could or would say no to him.
David Karofsky, billionaire entrepreneur, the quintessential mover and shaker and all-round bastard, was struggling with a deep-seated obsession. Tonight he'd been to the city's famous opera house to hear Kurt Hummel. The beautiful countertenor didn't know it yet, but he was soon to become famous for more than his breathtaking voice. David smiled at the thought of unwrapping his newest acquisition and partaking of its charms. Kurt Hummel's new life was soon to begin.
The driver smirked as the sound of his boss' laughter came from the rear of the stretch vehicle. He didn't envy the one he knew was the cause of such mirth and he knew the ensuing silence was now witness to his boss' infamous, predatory smile. If he'd been a smarter man, the driver felt he would have tried to talk him out of this plan but it's not easy getting between someone like that and the thing he'd set his eyes on!
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KHDK
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Humming to himself and relaxing as he cleaned the stage makeup from his flawless face, Kurt Hummel smiled happily. Tonight had been wonderful. He had been in fine form, the other principals had been great and the orchestra had never sounded better. Kurt loved when everything went smoothly and he could immerse himself in the beautiful music of one of his favorite operas. He was blown away by the number of curtain calls he'd had to take, and the roar of 'bravos!' from the more than appreciative audience.
He grinned at his reflection as he started his moisturizing routine, happy that after this he would be sneaking off to his little private island for a much-needed rest. No one knew he was going away but he'd left a note for his assistant at his apartment, explaining that he was taking a hiatus. The opera company was moving to London to set up for the season there and this would be the perfect opportunity for him to rest and recharge. He explained also that he didn't want anyone to know where he was going and she shouldn't feel bad that he hadn't told her before this. Any news about him always seemed to make it into the newspapers, gossip rags, blogs, etc. and, as much as he adored his fans, he was also an incredibly private person.
Along with that note he had also left one for his family. His father Burt deserved to know he was taking a break though he couldn't come to visit him this time. He knew his dad was a little worried with his jet set life and lack of permanent roots, but Kurt always assured him that he was happy and not yet ready to settle down. Burt, though, worried that his beautiful son would end up alone and unhappy if he kept passing up the opportunities for love and companionship that undoubtedly came his way. His son was talented, beautiful and rich. It was normal for him to expect him to bring home a prospective son-in-law, right? He only wanted what was best for his kid but Kurt had always been unbelievably headstrong, so he left him to get on with his life. What was a father to do?
Kurt knew all his father's hopes and dreams for him and, while deep down he did want the clichéd dream – partner, house in the suburbs, 2.5 kids, etc. – he also knew how incredibly picky he was. So far, none of the gorgeous and grasping young men who had thrown themselves in his path had really intrigued him at all. They were fine for a few weeks or, very occasionally months, of headboard rattling sex, but none of them had touched the core of him. He'd always moved on with his heart intact and, at this moment, Kurt wasn't really very worried about his future. If love should come his way, fine; if not, he'd continue enjoying his very satisfactory life.
He finished up with his face and dressed quickly in his favorite 'super spy' outfit: black turtle neck, black trousers, black boots, soft, supple black gloves and a long black trench coat. Everything was designer chic, of course, but he'd always had a secret passion for spy and caper movies. Most important of all, his skin looked stunning when he wore only black. He blew himself a smug little kiss in the mirror, grabbed his keys and headed downstairs. All he needed for his island getaway was already stowed in the trunk of his car so he was good to go.
He was so caught up with gloating over his upcoming, much-needed vacation that Kurt never saw the tall, muscular figure separate itself from the surrounding gloom. He did sense movement behind him, however, and turned to see. Drawing in a breath to scream only succeeded in pulling the chloroform deep into his lungs and, without even a whimper, Kurt Hummel sank into oblivion.
The kidnapper easily lifted the slender figure into his arms and loped towards the waiting limousine. The back doors opened silently and he passed over his unconscious burden into the waiting arms of his employer. If he noticed the tender expression in the man's eyes, he decided to dismiss it and mind his own business. At this time, his job was to get the hell away from the scene of the crime without drawing attention to themselves. He was good at this; after all, quite a few years in Special Ops serving Uncle Sam left you with a number of marketable skills. He silently thanked his boss for being able to recognize talent and grinned; working for one of the richest, most obsessively private men in the world was never boring.
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KHDK
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Kurt sighed and turned over, snuggling down into the deliciously smooth pillows and smiling to himself. He had definitely needed to get away for a while. The sound of distant surf and the smell of the sea lulled him back to sleep, his body relaxing even further. Really, he needed to come away to the island more often, his agent's bitching and moaning notwithstanding.
He slept for hours more, only surfacing fully when the afternoon sunshine fell across the foot of his bed and warmed him up a little more than he liked. He stretched without opening his eyes and yawned, enjoying the soft Caribbean air with its heavy flowery scent. He could hear his staff moving about beyond the glass doors of his bedroom and knew someone would soon come to check if he was ready for some food.
Kurt finally opened his eyes, gazing out to the patio beyond the glass doors and admiring the way the floor-length, gauzy curtains billowed in the balmy breeze. He sat up, pulled himself further up against the pillows and grinned at the amazing view of azure sky kissing sapphire waters. He didn't remember the beach being so close from the last time he was here but he put down his shoddy memory to the fact that he hadn't been alone. His body heated slightly as he remembered the three days he'd last spent here, hardly getting out of bed as he and … was it Kyan or maybe, Stephen… no matter. He had expended a lot of bodily fluids that weekend, and he smiled now at the memory.
Something was niggling at the back of his mind but, right now he wanted a shower and some food… he'd think about it later. He leaned towards his bedside table to press the button to call his butler – and froze.
Fully awake now, he stared at the bedside table – one that he definitely didn't remember – and then stared around the room, trying to find anything that was at all familiar, apart from the view. He started to breathe deeply, panic creeping to the edges of his mind, and threw the sheet that was covering him aside. It was only then that he realized he was_ naked?
He cried out, falling to the floor beside the bed and only then realized it was far larger than his own comfortable queen-size that he'd had imported from Miami. The flooring was different too, and as he crouched by the bed, stuffing a shaking fist into his mouth, he took in the other details.
This room was larger than his; the floor boards were a rich mahogany with such a deep sheen he could see himself in it and everything shouted extreme wealth. Even the sheet he'd wrapped around himself to preserve his modesty felt like it was closer to 500-thread than his own 300-count Egyptian cotton. Tears welled up and spilled over onto his ashen cheeks as he struggled to comprehend what had happened between leaving his flat and waking up_ he didn't know how many hours later.
Gathering up his courage, Kurt edged towards the glass patio doors, his heart-rate slowing as the familiar vista calmed him unconsciously. He stopped just within the doors, not knowing what was awaiting him outside this strange room. Taking a deep breath, he moved one of the curtains aside and stepped out. The stone of the patio was hot beneath his bare feet but that was familiar. The patio was large and well appointed; large stone urns filled with flowering tropical shrubs were interspersed between white wrought-iron furniture consisting of tables, chairs padded with bright water-proof upholstery and lounge chairs in the same material. It was all very lovely, rich_ and frightening.
This was not Kurt's home. His patio was dotted with wicker furniture and had steps, right there in the middle, leading down to his favorite swimming pool. This patio had a low wall that ran, uninterrupted with steps leading down from either end. The sea was still the Caribbean, at least he thought it was, but as he looked over the wall, he realized the grounds were more extensive than his own_ and his staff certainly didn't wear uniforms. He stared at the few people he could see moving around, all of them dressed similarly in dark trousers and white, short-sleeved tops.
He wiped away the frightened tears and took a deep breath, turning back to the strange room in which he had awakened. Maybe he could find some clothes; he couldn't very well wander this strange estate wrapped only a sheet. As he stepped through the glass doors he gasped, catching sight of the woman standing beside his bed.
"Uh, ahm_, what_, who are you? Where am I? Why am I naked?" His words ran together as he approached the young woman, for she wasn't much older than he was though her expression was so neutral as to be almost wooden.
"Please, sir, please, come back to bed. Sir said he would be along shortly," she pleaded with Kurt as she patted the bed she'd apparently just straightened. She didn't sound exactly frightened but Kurt got the impression from her that she didn't want to displease her employer and not getting Kurt back into bed would do so.
Kurt refused to budge from his position by the door as his ire grew. "Answer me, what am I doing here_ and where the hell is here?" His voice strengthened as he grew angrier; standing there in nothing but a sheet for protection was not ideal but he wasn't going to move until he got some answers.
"Please, sir, all your questions will be answered when sir comes to see you. Are you hungry; would you like something to drink? Come, I will get you some food now." She stared at Kurt's face but he could see her eyes dip every so often to his exposed torso and he tightened the sheet around him. She patted the bed again and he snorted, thinking it looked like when you wanted your pet to come to you.
He tightened his lips, his only response to her queries, and she sighed. She moved to open the bedroom door through which she had come and just as Kurt was about to follow behind her, he caught sight of a man's figure, just part of the person's back, and realized there was a guard standing there.
His spirits plunged as the seriousness of his position came home to him. He was a prisoner_ and he had no idea where he was being held. Tears welled again, his head bowed and a soft sob broke free. He sank into a crouch, right there by the glass doors and even the soft sunshine, balmy air and susurration of the calm blue sea couldn't lull him this time.
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TBC
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A/N 2: I have already written up to six chapters of this saga but I won't post them until I've heard back from you wonderful readers. So, let me know what you think, please; review or drop me a line. Feedback is always welcome to a serious writer as it helps to know what we're doing right or wrong. Thanks.