So, this is the first chapter of my new fanfiction - which I promise I will be finishing, since I have a lot of inspiration! This chapter is quite short, but I hope you like it anyways. I'm going to try to post a new chapter every single week!

Be aware that some of the contents might be 'disturbing' to some people. Other people would call it kinky.


The city was absolutely gorgeous. Paris was just as beautiful by night as it was by day, perhaps even more. The light that was projected on all of the big, important places made it look almost like it was in a dream. The Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower, the gorgeous Louvre and Notre-Dame. He never wanted to leave, though he knew he had to. Kurt stuffed his hands into his pockets as he took a turn, heading towards his hotel. The roads were slowly getting narrower and closer together and he was starting to feel his feet. His feet ached and his shoulder did as well, from carrying his bag all day. Perhaps he shouldn't have bought that Swarovki necklace for Carole and the bracelet for Rachel. He had made them personalized, but he still had to figure out something to buy for Burt. Now he had finally fought his battle of cancer – of which Kurt couldn't be more proud – he deserved a gift. A good one. Burt first conquered a heart attack, fought the battle and won. He was all healthy again, and then the terrible disease got to his father. The same disease that had taken Kurt's mother away when he was only eight years old. He still missed her to this very day, though he couldn't be more happy with Carole in his life, as a new mother figure. Of course she would never be able to take the part of his mom back, but it was something. She tried her best and they were almost best friends. As Kurt continued to walk, lost in thought, he didn't notice that he should have taken the turn a few blocks back. By now, he was getting into a part of Paris that you really did not want to be at this time of night. He reached for his phone once he realized that he wasn't exactly on the right path at the moment and checked for the time.

"Come on, work, you stupid thing," he mumbled softly. His unlock screen had had problems for a while now, but this time it really didn't work.

"Damnit," he cursed softly, glancing around. 'La route de la Campagne', he saw on one of the street signs. He had never heard of the name, but he assumed that it could only be a little away from the hotel he had been staying at for the last four days.

"Excuse moi," Kurt started as he headed up to a woman, who was walking hurriedly behind a stroller, which was going hobbly over the uneven brick road. She ignored him, only sending him a glare for waking her child up.

"Sorry," he whispered, looking into the stroller for a moment, before sighing. As he continued to walk around, trying to find his way back to his hotel, the sun moved behind the horizon completely and the sky turned completely dark. The roads were small and the buildings were high, the typical French way. It reminded him a bit of how it had looked in the Les Misèrables movie. He smiled and started humming slowly. He finally saw someone walk around again, once again asking the man for where he was and how he could get back to his hotel the quickest, but he didn't seem to understand a word about what he said. Even if he did know what he said, he probably wouldn't have answered. Frenchmen and their languages. Of course, the language was beautiful, but it had been quite a while since Kurt had last spoken it and it had faded away more than he liked. If only he had Sebastian here, he would know what to say. His ex-boyfriend, who had come from Paris. At first they wanted to go together, so Sebastian could show him all the romantic places and Kurt could meet the rest of his family. Though, before they actually booked, they simply.. didn't feel it anymore. Sebastian and Kurt had turned more into friends with benefits than into lovers. They still liked each other, but the loving had faded away. A shame, really, they had been a wonderful couple. Both snarky, sarcastic and very, very talented. Not just in the singing and dancing way of speaking. They had taught each other well.


Small drops of rain were starting to fall down on the pavement, and not much later, Kurt felt it as well. That was when he finally really started to get annoyed. There he was. The temperature was getting lower and lower, it was raining, and Kurt was lost. Completely and utterly lost, now he finally dared to admit it. He usually had quite a good sense of direction, but apparently that didn't count for him if he was in a new city, where he had never been before. Perhaps he should've taken the advice of that guy that sold him a water bottle earlier and take a map as well. That would've helped him now, at least. He could've showed him the hotel, if they could've showed him where he was. He decided to continue to walk. He didn't want to have to sleep on the street after all. Especially not in this kind of neighborhood, thank you. After a while, he wasn't sure what time it was anymore, but he was tired, and he knew that it was late. Was it past midnight already? He tried to keep himself calmed down, humming soft songs to himself. He needed to find someone to ask directions to who actually spoke English, and not just 'yes', 'no', and 'No English' – because that seemed to be the only thing that they spoke. He swallowed thickly and allowed himself to sit down for a moment, but he immediately got up when he saw a black figure crossing the street. He could hear the footsteps echoing through the narrow street and he held his bag a little tighter around his shoulder. He wiped some of his wet hair from his face and ran towards the man.

"Excuse moi!" he exclaimed. "Je.. Eh.. Vous aves.. eh.." he stammered.

The boy turned around. The first thing that Kurt saw, was the eyebrow piercing in his left eyebrow, that immediately glistened in the dim light from the lanterns. The boy's hair was wet as well, but Kurt was still able to see that it would be curls if it was dry, and the hazel eyes looked absolutely gorgeous. The boy was wearing a shirt that defined his body, but that didn't reveal too much. It was a short sleeve, and he was wearing some dark, tight pants – yet they didn't even come close to what Kurt was wearing.

"Do you speak English?"