A/N: Well! This is the first fic I'm posting online. I had a tough time choosing the genres, so if you have a better suggestion, I'm all for it. If you wanna get a hold of me to give me feedback (Or just talk to me because I LOVE talking to new people), I would prefer you did it on my tumblr, bitcheslovepolkamusic. Thanks! PLEASE tell me what you think! This is my first time uploading a glee fanfic and I'm pretty nervous about it, so any feedback is appreciated immensely! ON WITH THE READING.
ALSO: The rating WILL go up in later chapters. You've been warned!
Kurt surveyed the scene before him wearily. For only being here an hour, he was already incredibly antsy. He had memorized his target's face weeks ago and just wanted to kill the man already.
"It is a shame though," he murmured to himself, "he's quite attractive." Kurt sighed once more, examining his perfectly manicured nails briefly before looking around the room again.
It was a lovely party, and the ballroom was well decorated and classy. Even Kurt had to admit that. There were what appeared to be crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, each one with intricately cut gems hanging from it and reflecting the dim light from the others. To add to the mood of the party, there were candles on every table flickering around each time someone walked by them too quickly. The table cloths and chairs were all in rich reds and cherry woods with gold accents that shone when the light hit them just right.
In the centre of the grandiose ballroom (as rented by Kurt's target for that evening), there was a space without any tables for couples to go and dance. At the moment, there were only about ten pairs of people, each one dancing out of rhythm to the song. On the stage there was a small jazz band playing out simple little tunes that could easily become background noise if you wanted to have a conversation with someone. Along the sides of the room there were buffet tables filled with a vast array of foods from all cultures.
Overall, it was gorgeous, but unfortunately for Kurt it was probably the largest enclosed area he'd ever needed to find a target in. Not only that, but this place also had the largest amount of potential witnesses he'd ever had to deal with. When he first walked in, he had been silently cursing his boss for giving him this assignment. He supposed it was his fault too; he was told the job was going to be difficult and accepted it regardless.
Looking around once more at the people instead of the décor, he noticed he was getting some odd glances from almost everyone in his general area. He supposed they were all well-deserved; he was alone and against a wall, practically in a corner, muttering to himself. Laughing silently, Kurt removed himself from the wall and made his way over to the buffet tables.
At the moment the long tables of food were more amazing than the ballroom, especially to Kurt who hadn't eaten since sometime the night before. Just as he was helping himself to some knish, he received a tap on the shoulder. He whirled around to see a very familiar sight; a short, European featured man with dark curls on his head and honey-brown eyes. Kurt just about spit his food out on him, but was luckily able to swallow and manage a small smile before he did so.
"I'm sorry," the shorter man said, smiling honestly and holding out a hand to shake. "I don't think we've met. One of my sisters must have invited you," he paused to roll his eyes theatrically, "I'm Blaine Anderson." He flashed an even wider smile that nearly took Kurt's breath away.
"Kurt Hummel," he said, shaking hands with him. Kurt smiled, finding it ironic that yes, one of Blaine's sisters had technically invited him. She was the one who paid Kurt to kill him.
"It's a pleasure," his target told him kindly. Kurt smiled a genuine, if not a bit bitter smile.
"So, would you care to dance?" That question took Kurt so off guard that he choked on the sip of wine he was taking and had to spit it back into the glass (which he was sure was very charming.)
"Pardon me?" He asked, coming off even higher pitched than usual. He was sure he looked shaken, because honestly, no one took Kurt Hummel off guard, and it was a strange feeling.
The shorter man's face fell immediately and he looked more like a kicked puppy than the cruel business tycoon he had been made out to be.
"Oh god, I am so sorry. I ah…" he scratched the back of his head. "I kind of got the idea in my head that you were gay, and you're good looking, and I…" he sighed, looking down. "And I should go before I make an even bigger ass out of myself than I already have." With that, he spun on his heel to leave.
"No!" Kurt said a bit too forcefully before he even knew what he was doing. Blaine turned around, pointy eyebrows raised and looking a bit too hopeful.
"No?" He asked quietly. He turned to face Kurt completely, wringing his hands in front of him anxiously.
'Shit,' Kurt thought. He tried to remember back to the miscellaneous information in Anderson's file, and the only thing that alluded at all to the possibility of him being gay was the statement, "A bit eccentric and has never shown any interest in pursuing women."
Kurt realized he was taking too long to answer when he saw Blaine's hopeful expression steadily deflate into one of misery. Without considering the consequences, Kurt quickly spoke, reaching out and grabbing Blaine's arm. He wanted nothing more than to return the smile to the other man's face.
"No, you didn't get the wrong idea. I would love to dance with you." The ridiculously goofy grin that spread across his target's face was worth it, and he smiled back at him effortlessly.
Before he knew what was happening, Kurt found himself holding tightly onto Blaine, twirling around the dance floor. Blaine's employees and various acquaintances didn't seem to notice, and if they did they either weren't surprised or couldn't give two shits about it.
The two of them had danced through an entire song already before Kurt realized what he was doing. Here he was, dancing and laughing with another man freely. Staring into his eyes and having a genuinely good time.
With who was quite possibly his dream man, and a very handsome man at that.
A very handsome target. Who he was hired to kill. The word target flashed in big red letters through Kurt's mind.
"Oh, shit," he muttered, tensing, His dancing partner frowned, glancing from Kurt to the clock briefly before returning his gaze to Kurt.
"Are you Cinderella?" He asked, squinting suspiciously up at Kurt.
All at once Kurt lost his train of thought, again. This guy really needed to stop doing that. "I—what?" He raised his eyebrows, staring at the other man incredulously. What the hell was this guy?
"Are. You. Cinderella." He articulated each word very carefully, staring at Kurt with a completely serious gaze. What Kurt said next should have, in retrospect, been thought through first.
"Only if you'll be my prince charming." Well, shit. That made everything uncomfortable. Blaine, who had begun to smile to show he was joking, stared wide-eyed up at him. His mouth quickly went from a smirk to a small 'o' shape.
Not knowing what else to do, Kurt continued dancing. After a moment he decided to think on his toes and let out a nervous chuckle.
Blaine relaxed considerably as soon as he heard the other man's gentle laugh and began to laugh along with him eventually, neither of them missing a step as they continued to make their way around the dance floor.
"You're incredible," Blaine murmured softly, and as soon as it was out of his mouth Kurt saw a panicked look cross his features. "Oh, shit. That's one of those thinking out loud moments." He looked down at their feet quickly and Kurt saw the beginnings of a blush creep up from under his collar.
Kurt just smirked, charmed by the other man already. "Well, you're not so bad yourself," he returned quietly. Blaine looked up and smiled like a kid on Christmas, subconsciously starting to twirl them around quicker as a more upbeat song came on.
"Why, thank you." Kurt was sure he was just imagining it, but his dance partner's voice seemed to have taken on an almost husky undertone, which to his ears sounded like pure sex. They continued to spin around at an almost dizzying pace until a very slow song came on. Kurt glanced down to make sure that Blaine was still fine with dancing, and he got his answer when they slowed down considerably and he leaned his head on Kurt's chest.
Said boy tightened his grip on Blaine protectively, if not a bit guiltily. Usually, he was a killer in cold blood (just another of the many things he wasn't proud of). But this assignment… He felt like he couldn't do it somehow. Like he was already attached to the man. He sighed miserably, resting his head on top of Blaine's.
About half way through the song, Kurt was lost in his own thoughts and seriously considering calling his boss to tell her he couldn't do it. He realized all too late that the shorter boy beneath him was speaking. "—with me?" Kurt blinked, removing his chin from Blaine's head to look down at him.
"I'm sorry, what?" Blaine smiled another one of those breathtaking smiles.
"I said, how about we leave the party early and you come tour the town with me?" while he still wore the confident smile on his face, that glimmer of hope and uncertainty was still barely present in his eyes.
"I—ahm. Sure. Sure! Can I make a quick phone call first?" Kurt smiled charmingly down at him. He was determined to get out of killing this man at all costs. He was also determined to get him on a date.
"Oh! Of course!" Kurt was sure that if Blaine was a puppy his tail would be going a mile a minute, although there was still something sad in his eyes. They danced over to the edge of the dance floor and separated, standing a bit awkwardly next to each other before Kurt smiled and pulled out his phone, walking quickly to the men's room.
He glanced around and made sure all of the stalls were empty before going into the nearest one and locking the door, leaning against it. He hit number one on his speed dial and put it up to his ear, waiting impatiently for his boss to answer.
"Sylvester. Talk." The pale boy let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding when he heard her familiar voice.
"Hey, Sue. It's Kurt."
"Ah, Mr. Hummel." He could hear the cruel grin in her voice through the phone. "So glad to hear from you. I take it you've done away with Anderson already?" There was a pause, but before Kurt could answer she started again. "Oh, what am I saying? Of course you have. That's what I like about you. You do it quick and you do it clean. Has anyone noticed his absence yet? Or have you already left?"
Kurt bit his lip and played with his tie absently, running a hand up and down his neck. "Well, Sue, that's ah... Why I called to talk to you."
When she spoke again, he could hear the obvious frown in her voice. "What happened? Were you caught?" On that last sentence her voice got a dangerous edge to it.
He took a deep breath, letting it out through his mouth. "No, Sue. That wouldn't be possible. I haven't done it yet."
"Y—" Kurt cut her off before she could yell. He made sure he used a commanding tone of voice.
"Listen to me for a minute, okay?" He paused and received an eerie silence from the other end of the line, so he took that as his signal to continue. "I haven't done it yet because… Well, because I don't think I actually can."
There was a long silence coming from his phone, and he pulled it away from his ear more than once to make sure she hadn't hung up. Finally, she spoke in what was a freakishly calm voice. "Why not, Porcelain? You're my best man. I thought if anyone could do this, you could. I guess I was wrong."
Sighing irritably, Kurt tightened his grip on his cell phone. She knew that saying that would get to him right in the pride department, and if there's one thing Kurt Hummel was, it was prideful. This time though, she couldn't play that card.
"It's not that I'm not capable, Sylvester," his voice took on an extra acidic quality as he spat her name. "It's not that I can't. If it were anyone else, I would be done and out of here by now. It's that I won't."
A few more seconds passed, which to Kurt at that moment seemed like an eternity. Her voice regained its usual bitter quality. "And why the hell not, Hummel?"
"Because he's harmless, Sue! He's charming and sweet and I think it would break his heart to do so much as step on a spider, much less do all of the things his sister accused him of!" by the time he was done he was yelling, he was breathing a bit heavier than usual.
"Porcelain, you know as well as I do that that doesn't matter. His sister's already paid us off! I don't see what the problem here i—" She cut off and Kurt could make out a quiet gasp from the other end of the phone line. "Oh, don't tell me you've gotten attached to the man—" there was a heavy sigh and the sound of what seemed to be a coffee mug being slammed down on a table.
"I—" Yet again, Kurt was at a loss for words. Was he attached to this man? Sure, he liked him; how could you not? He was charming, funny, attractive… But certainly, a cold-blooded killer like Kurt couldn't be attached to him? He began chewing on his lip trying to think of something to say to his boss.
Finally, he whispered, "I just can't do it, Sue. I can't."
There came a heavy sigh from her and a soft clattering of something. "Alright, fine. Leave the premises and I'll send someone there to do it for you. I'm removing the credit from this job from your account though."
When she finished, her employee panicked. He was still going to be killed? Kurt hadn't actually thought about that; just because he didn't want to kill Blaine didn't mean there weren't a hundred others willing to do the job in his organization alone. Not only that, but even if they did deny the job and gave the money back to his sister, she would probably just find someone else to do it and he would still die.
"Wait! No, Miss Sylvester—" but it was too late. She'd already hung up and probably already had someone on their way there. He had fifteen minutes tops to get Blaine out of there.
Snapping his phone shut with just a bit too much force, he lurched away from the wall and fumbled with the lock on his door, sprinting out and nearly plowing down an older gentleman with a toupee. He looked around the ballroom urgently, trying to find his new companion.
Finally, he spotted him sitting at a table, downing a glass of wine a bit more enthusiastically than he should have been. Kurt tried to make his way over as nonchalantly as possible, taking his time to glance around and look like he wasn't about to take the man of the hour and run.
By the time he managed to get to Blaine, he had already poured another glass of wine and was halfway through it. He was staring off into the distance at nothing in particular.
"Hey," Kurt managed through his bout of panic. Blaine seemed shocked to see him there when he lifted his head.
"Kurt!" It looked like he just about leapt out of his chair. In his excitement he knocked his wine glass over onto a very angry looking woman. He smiled sheepishly up at her, handing her a napkin and apologizing every time she wiped her dress.
Kurt began to tap his foot impatiently, glancing at his watch. At best, he had eight minutes to get out of here. Once the woman was mostly dry and Blaine felt he'd apologized enough, he turned back to Kurt and smiled broadly. "Hey! Ready to go?" The taller of the two wondered idly when Blaine's voice began to slur. He didn't remember him slurring when they met, or while they were dancing, which led him to the conclusion that he'd managed to drink enough wine (was it really wine?) in the short period of time Kurt was gone to get at the very least buzzed. Then again, Kurt was having an off night. He may have already been drunk when they first met.
"Yes! Of course. But I think I should drive." When Blaine smiled again and took another sip of whatever it was in his wine glass, Kurt was beginning to question this man's daily alcohol consumption. After downing all of his drink, Blaine stood and held out a hand for Kurt.
Most people without well trained eyes wouldn't have noticed the way Blaine teetered the slightest bit when he stood.
After another five minutes, they managed to get to what Kurt claimed was his motorcycle. It was actually the motorcycle of one of Blaine's guests, but Blaine didn't seem to mind. Kurt had the keys (which he'd managed to swipe at the very beginning of the party with the idea of making a speedy getaway on it), which was enough for him.
They got on and Kurt triple checked to make sure Blaine had a tight grip on him (which was probably tighter than necessary, but he wasn't complaining) and they were soon speeding down the road. Kurt had no idea where he intended to go; at the moment they were driving aimlessly.
Kurt felt Blaine nuzzle into his neck and inhale deeply, and was trying desperately not to get distracted. After taking various strange routes that were actually just making them circle the city, Kurt decided that he wasn't being followed in any way. He had already discarded his phone, and halfway through the ride had managed to get rid of Blaine's without him noticing.
Going through a checklist in his head, Kurt decided that they were safe for the night. He circled back around until he found a motel that had a practically empty parking lot and decided they could easily crash there for an evening.
Parking, Kurt removed his helmet and climbed off of the motorcycle. Fixing his hair, he looked Blaine over. Either he'd gotten high in the five minutes Kurt had been gone, or he had a delayed reaction to alcohol. He looked like he was about to collapse.
"Alright, you. Let's get going inside," he told him, holding out a hand. Blaine took it, smiling up at him cheerily. They strolled into a completely empty lobby, save for the woman at the front desk. She smiled at them as though she hadn't seen a person in days and gestured for them to come over.
"Hello," Kurt said coolly, reaching in his back pocket. "We'll take the cheapest room you have," he continued after a moment, noticing that he had minimal cash on him. He handed her an ID from his collection, stating he was from Connecticut and had some weird name like Georgie or Ronnie. She happily entered the information into her computer and handed it back to him, telling them what room they would be staying in and handing them the keycard.
"Thank you," They said, Blaine's coming out less than intelligible. A few minutes later, the two of them found themselves in a hotel room with one bed and a bathroom that lacked greatly in the cleanliness department. Sighing to himself, Kurt pulled Blaine over to the bed and sat him down.
"Alright, I don't know how sober you are, so just listen up, okay?" Blaine nodded, his eyes appearing much more focused than before. "I'm not going to give you any details, but you and I are going to be with each other for a while. It's very important you don't open any windows and you don't use any phones. Don't tell anyone your name or mine, and don't tell anyone where you are or where you're going. Got it?" Kurt made sure he kept his voice low and as calming as possible.
The older man seemed to be paying a lot more attention now, and was apparently sober enough to at least understand he was in some sort of danger. Kurt could hear his breathing quicken fractionally and his eyes widen.
"Are you a body guard or something? Is someone after me?" his voice shook almost as badly as his hands were. Kurt was once again shocked by the man in front of him and gaped at him for a moment before shutting his mouth and breaking eye contact with him.
"Yeah. I was hired to protect you." He patted the CEO's leg, standing up and removing his suit jacket. He felt horrible lying to this man, he really did. It made his chest constrict in ways he hadn't felt since high school, and if he didn't like the man so much he'd shoot him right then and there for making him lose his cool demeanor.
Without thinking he had removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, and was now almost completely out of his pants. His neck prickled and he turned around, finding that he had an audience.
"Is there a couch?" Blaine asked uneasily, eyes not leaving Kurt's body. Kurt shook his head no, glancing around and seeing that there was only a bed, a dresser, and a table as far as furniture went. Blaine swallowed, clasping his hands together.
"I can look away if you'd like?" Kurt offered. He had a feeling he would be gawking at Blaine in much the same way that Blaine was gawking at him (which, to be honest, was getting a little creepy). But, the other boy said no and began to remove his clothing. He toed off his shoes first, slipping off his jacket and loosening his tie. The poor lighting cast dark shadows on his face, and Kurt could just how tired and beat down the other man was. Collapsing back onto the bed, he gave an irritated sigh.
Kurt stared at him, torn between laughing and taking pity on him. It looked like he couldn't get his fingers to work and instead of unbuttoning his shirt he was just tugging on the buttons. Without thinking twice about it, Kurt sat down and undid the buttons for him, giving a patronizing look which he imagined to look like his father's. The other man just stared at him for a moment, the look in his eyes caught somewhere between a zombie and a dog.
Blinking a couple of times, Blaine looked down and stared at his now unbuttoned shirt, looking pleased. He slipped it off his shoulders and slipped his pants off with a bit of difficulty. He lay back onto the bed, the entire bottom half of his body hanging off and his feet still firmly planted on the ground.
Shaking his head and sighing, Kurt pushed Blaine so his body was at least mostly on the bed. Sliding in next to the shorter man, Kurt curled in on himself and nuzzled his face into the pillow. After a few minutes he felt a warm body suddenly up against him, breathing deeply. His eyes flew open and looked down to find his companion sleeping peacefully against him. Of course it was Kurt's luck that he managed to kidnap a sleep-cuddler.
Not wanting to disturb him by pushing him off, Kurt just put an arm on his back and stared at the ceiling. He couldn't help but feel that it was his fault Blaine was being chased down by his organization. For some reason, it seemed that Sylvester wouldn't have accepted the job had Kurt not agreed to do it. If he would have just set aside his pride for once, then he would never have met Blaine Anderson and wouldn't need to deal with him and wouldn't need to be doing this right now.
But, for whatever reason, Kurt couldn't make himself be irritated about it. It was his own fault. Though it was still strange that he wasn't pissed off at something; Kurt was always pissed off about one thing or another. A trait he had developed along with his cold bloodedness when he joined the assassination business.
It wasn't originally his idea; it was his Cheerleading coach's idea. She noticed he was being bullied, and thus found out he had a lot of pent up anger. She offered an amazing deal: you'll get rid of all of that anger and make all the bullying stop. Unknowingly, Kurt accepted and signed a contract and now he was stuck.
He was pulled from his past when he felt the pair of arms encircling him tighten, and he looked down to see Blaine's face smashed against his chest. He couldn't help the smile that broke across his face; it was a truly lovely sight. 'So this is what it's like to have someone,' Kurt thought absently. He stopped himself as soon as he thought it, though; he didn't really have anyone. All he was doing was saving a man who, about four hours ago, he had the full intention of killing.
This started him on another train of thought. Why had he decided to save this target? It didn't really make sense. He'd gotten close to his targets before; at least, he'd pretended to. He'd even gotten one of them in bed before. Kurt bit his lip, glancing down at Blaine. He was risking his career, both or their lives even, and for what?
Unable to stop the yawn that broke free from his mouth, Kurt decided to tell his brain to call it a night and think about it more in the morning. They'd both had a long night. Inhaling deeply, Kurt couldn't even find the energy to worry about what would happen tomorrow; he was actually entirely at ease. He curled closer to the unfortunate man next to him, trying to memorize his sweet honey and cedar wood smell knowing full well that it may be the last time he ever gets to be this intimate with anyone.
WELL. There we have it. I have the next two chapters written already and I'm going to be uploading them soon. So before you go, I have something to say: That was completely un-beta'd. Nobody read it over for errors except me. That being said, if you find any errors, please tell me where and I will fix them immediately! ALSO. I want a beta, but I haven't the slightest idea how to ask. Anyone out there willing to do some beta-ing? Thanks again!