A/N: An idea I had...basically, this fic is a 50 Shades of Gray KLAINE style. OBVIOUSLY rated M...I do not know of this type of relationship, so therefore, I had to do ALOT of research. Please bare with me. I hope you enjoy! Title is based off of Ellie Goulding's Love Me Like You Do, which is on the 50 Shades soundtrack. If you have not listened to it yet, I highly suggest it! Xoxoxoxo
I do not own 50 Shades OR Glee. Ignore mistakes, no beta.
Love Me Like You Do
Prologue
"UGH!" Quinn Fabray grimaced as she opened her locker next to Kurt Hummel. "I hate this."
Kurt sighed and turned to face her. "What's wrong?"
"I think I'm getting sick..." She replied with a sniffle, and set her math book in her locker.
Kurt backed up, putting his hands up, as if THAT would keep him from getting the sicking germs. "Don't get me sick."
"Haha..." Quinn deadpanned. "What's even worse is I have to interview Mr. Anderson for a journalism paper, which is due in a week! And I have to get a good grade on it because it's for my acceptance into Yale!" She screeched, her limbs flailing wildly.
Kurt's cheeks immediately burned, and he swallowed, knowing exactly who she was talking about. He found himself subconciously licking his lips.
Mr. Anderson was mysterious...yet seemingly proper...and very wealthy. He worked for Quinn's father, Mr. Ronald Fabray, as his assistant. Hell, even Ronald Fabray was a well-known powerful man, and could be intimadating at times, but he always got his work done, with the help of Mr. Anderson.
Kurt often found himself most late nights, staring dreamily at Mr. Anderson's photos, taking in the defined jawline...the dark thick curls...those caramel colored eyes...and of course, those most late nights, he couldn't go to sleep until the prominent and aching bulge in his boxers was taken care of. Then, Kurt would fall alseep with those same honey colored eyes and touseled black curls in his dreams...
Kurt snapped out of his daydream, (because wow, ok, this doesn't happen like, ever. Noooooo, he doesn't really daydream about Mr. Anderson...) and scrunched his face up when he saw Quinn blowing her red nose into a kleenex loudly. "Uhm, o-ok...I'll see you l-later..." Kurt stuttered. With one last spray to his perfect coif, he slammed his locker and shuffled away.
Quinn made a displeased face, but then a second later shrugged her shoulders as she headed towards history.
xxxK&Bxxx
"I don't care! Get SOMEONE to do it! I don't care if it's Jesus Christ HIMSELF! I NEED THAT INTERVIEW!" Ronald roared from inside his office.
"Of course, Mr. Fabray! Right away!" The petite brunette squeaked and nodded. Moments later, she hurried out of the man's office, clutching her papers.
Ring! Ring!
Ronald grunted, and put his face in his hands. He picked up the phone. "Yes?"
"Mr. Fabray, she's ready for pick up." The voice said on the other line.
"What's the verdict?" He asked, hesitantly.
"Sir, she has the flu."
He sighed, running a hand down his face. "Ok, thank you, Martha. Please have my wife take her home."
"Yes, sir."
Click.
Mr. Fabray picked up the phone and dialed a very familiar number.
"Hello?" A gruff, but friendly voice said on the other line.
"Burt Hummel. Do you have a minute?" Ronald said in his business tone.
xxxK&Bxxx
"Knock, knock?" Burt tapped on his son's door.
"Yeah, dad?" Kurt answered and looked up, setting his books aside.
"So, I don't know if you heard bud, but, Quinn has the flu." He said sadly, leaning against Kurt's door frame and crossed his arms across his chest.
Kurt's curelean eyes widened upon hearing this. "I-Is she gonna be ok?"
"Oh yeah, Kurt. She'll be fine." He assured Kurt.
Kurt smiled. "Ok, good."
"But..."
Kurt looked up from his homework, now scattered everywhere on his bed. "Yes?"
"Kurt, she's not going to be able to do that interview for her Yale paper. Do you think you could go in for her for that one day this week?" Burt asked.
Kurt's mouth suddenly felt dry and his heart raced a mile a minute. "W-What interview?" Oh my god...the one with Mr. Anderson?!
"Mr. Anderson."
"Ok." Kurt answered, a little too quickly, even for his own liking. He cleared his throat. "S-Sure, dad. When is it?" He pulled his phone out.
"Tomorrow at one." He said, preparing to leave.
Kurt's head snapped up so fast, he's surprised he didn't get whiplash. "T-Tomorrow...as in...W-Wednesday tomorrow?"
Burt turned around slowly. "Yes, Kurt. Is there something wrong?"
Kurt swallowed. Yes. He's so devilishly handsome and I think I'm in love and ohmygod I'm interviewing him TOMORROW and I can't breathe..."Yeah. Fine." Kurt squeaked.
Burt narrowed his eyes. "No funny business."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Dad, I know..."
"Goodnight, bud." He said as he walked out and shut Kurt's door.
Kurt's palms started sweating profusely and he felt dizzy. Laying down, he stared up at his ceiling intently. He bit his lip, and thought of Mr. Anderson. He sat up, pulling out his laptop, and did his nightly research, only to end with want and desperation.
You know, the usual.
No big deal.
And of course, Kurt Hummel feel alseep to those familiar and mysterious hazel orbs and million-dollar smile.
The next morning, he woke up Wednesday morning feeling quite refreshed and well-rested and with a huge grin plastered on his face. He stumbled out of bed and got ready for his day. He decided to wear his white skinny jeans with a blue button up shirt and his gray scarf, completed with Marc Jacobs boots. He styled his hair the same, that beautiful perfect coif.
Bounding downstairs, he stopped when he saw his dad at the table reading the newspaper and adjusting his baseball cap. "Morning, bud."
"Morning." Kurt smiled.
"Here's the list of questions Quinn wrote down. Mr. Fabray dropped it off last night." Burt said, handing his son a folded piece of paper.
Kurt took it graciously, and nodded. "Thank you dad. I'll see you later!" He rushed out, heading towards school. "And stay away from that greasy bacon!"
Burt scoffed as he heard his son slam the door.
Kurt had absolutely no idea what he was in for that day...
A/N: Love it? Hate it? Please let me know! Xoxoxoxo -Marianne :P