Because I wanted to stick to the deadline so much, this isn't beta-read! I will make sure it's finished earlier next time, so there will be no spelling mistakes! Please make sure to review, it gives me a reason to keep writing!
Be aware that some of the contents might be 'disturbing' to some people. Some people would call it kinky.
Kurt honestly wasn't sure how to do this. He didn't speak French and now he had walked up to a guy who honestly looked like he was the least educated guy in this town. He knew it might sounded a bit.. racist in a way, but he had never expected someone with piercings and tattoos to be very smart. He knew it was just stereotyping and Kurt was very much against it, but he couldn't help but think it. Sometimes an image is just stuck in your head, right? He couldn't do a thing about it. He was sure that not everyone was like that, but.. Perhaps this guy was. On one side, he hoped so, so he could continue judging people – something he always loved to do, though at the same time hated it if other people did so – and on the other hand, he wanted to be proven wrong. He wanted to meet someone who spoke decent English and that was rare, especially in these neighborhoods of Paris.
"Of course I do," the man said, without an accent. Kurt couldn't help but find himself a bit shocked. He hadn't expected someone to actually speak English and had already been mentally preparing himself for the fact that he might needed to sleep on the street. But then the English came out.
"You do?! Oh my god, that's amazing – " Kurt said quickly, unable to stop the relieved sigh and the quick beating in his chest. He would perhaps be able to find his hotel again! "I'm looking for my hotel. Hotel Mystique," he explained. "I don't know where it is, my phone died like.. three hours ago and I had the address on it, but now I don't anymore and honestly I am freaking out," Kurt stopped to take a deep breath in and continue to ramble, "I don't want to sleep on the street, you know? Especially not here, and I don't speak French and people rarely speak English, as you must know, of course," he said before the guy stopped him.
"Come on, come on, calm down. I speak English, but I have no idea what the hell you just tried to say," the man said more friendly than Kurt had expected. No harsh words? No telling him to fuck off? The stereotype was broken even further. "I'm Blaine."
Kurt took a deep breath in and smiled a little. He ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "I'm sorry," he started, holding out his hand. "Kurt."
"Nice to meet you, Kurt. All I understood from that is that you're lost and that you're looking for your hotel. Which one?" Blaine said gently, shaking his hand.
"Hotel Mystique. Do you know where it is? Like I said, I don't have the address, or I would've given it to you, but.. I don't." Kurt felt like the biggest idiot in the world – he didn't even know the address of the place he was staying at. How unprepared and stupid was that?
"It's fine, seeing that you have an iPhone, you couldn't have just taken another battery with you, so, I forgive you," Blaine teased him gently as he looked around. "I can look it up on my navigation system. My car's parked nearby, just.. walk with me. I hate this rain," he said with a small shrug, pulling his leather jacket closer around himself.
Right now, standing in the rain, with a guy offering him a dry seat in a car and perhaps a ride to his hotel, he couldn't say no. Besides, he was of his own age, he was friendly, what could go wrong?
"Follow me," Blaine said as Kurt had nodded, running through the rain, towards a street further where a bunch of cars had parked. Blaine walked up to a slightly damaged car, but Kurt could imagine. Driving in the streets of Paris, it was better to have an older, more damaged car than a Maserati – people would just be more tempted to steal it and it would cost a lot more to get everything repaired. He moved to sit down in the passenger's seat of the car the moment it opened, because he really did not want to stand in the rain for a second longer. Blaine sat down next to him and smiled a little. "So.. Hotel Mystique? My navigation should probably know it, just.. give me a moment," he said as he leaned over and grabbed the navigation.
Kurt checked his watch and sighed. It was almost one am already, and he was exhausted. He couldn't wait to get back to his hotel and sleep. "Thank you for.. checking it for me. I really didn't want to end up sleeping in the streets," he said gently, running a hand through his hair.
"I think I've found it," Blaine said a few minutes later, glancing over at Kurt. "It's been a warm day, did you drink enough? It's quite a ride," Blaine said gently.
Kurt shrugged slightly. "I think I'm fine, I still have some water," he said as he grabbed his bottle and took a sip. "I hate to be rude, but.. can we go? I mean, I'm exhausted and it's late and I don't want to hold you up." To Kurt's relief, Blaine nodded, set the navigation on go and put it back against the window screen, before driving off.
The calm, French music was coming through Blaine's speakers, relaxing Kurt further than he had before. He couldn't wait to get back to his hotel and fall on his bed, not even bothering to get rid of his clothes. Perhaps he'd just take off his shoes and let himself fall onto bed. Maybe get rid of his jacket, if he didn't fall asleep before that happened. Blaine rode through the quiet, small streets of the suburbs of Paris, humming softly along to a new French song that Kurt didn't know. Kurt kept watching outside, smiling as he felt like they were getting back to humanity a bit more, instead of staying in the suburbs in which he was sure there could be found multiple dead bodies.
Blaine cursed. "Shit.. Stupid navigation," he said as he looked over at the small black screen, opening the dashboard cabinet and searching through it for a moment, before looking at the back seat.
"Kurt, can you reach that small box there? There's supposed to be another battery in there," Blaine said after he had tried to reach for it himself.
Kurt leaned over and grabbed the box, before wanting to hand it to Blaine. He felt a tight, yet still gentle grip around his wrist. A tiny stinging feeling just below his elbow and everything started to fade. He could still hear the soft French music, he could feel the hobbling of the road. When he opened his eyes, everything was a blur, but he did distinguish light and dark and some colors.
"We're almost there, princess," he heard Blaine say, knowing that Blaine was looking back, but unable to look back up at him or change his expression in any way. Or the worst thing – to move. As soon as the car stopped, he felt Blaine lift him from the back seat, and the moment his head fell back, his eyes closed again as well. He was unable to stop it.
By the time he woke up, his head was pounding, his mind was racing, but the worst thing was, he couldn't move. He couldn't move. He pulled on his wrists, he pulled on his legs, but nothing happened. What had he done?