A/N:
Well hi all, thank you so much for the follows and favourites. I should let you know this story is completely written and I'm just fine tuning the chapters before I post them. I'm aiming for two chapters a week depending on the response it gets. Please review as it lets me know if I should write more or maybe not. Thank you for reading!
Driving Me Crazy – Chapter 2
Kurt unlocked the back doors of the Anderson house and made his way past the laundry and utility room through to the kitchen, rubbing his hands together to warm them from the morning chill that had made him reluctant to get out of bed at all.
Once inside he paused and listened for any sign of life, but was greeted only by silence. The large kitchen was suitably luxurious with its black granite worktops, glossy white cabinetry and expensive stainless steel appliances. A vast island dominated the space, and a round glass-topped table surrounded by leather upholstered chairs was positioned by a trio of tall windows. Combined with a set of French doors, they offered an unobstructed view of the wide stone-paved terrace and the neatly manicured gardens beyond.
The sparse furnishings gave the space a sterile, almost uninhabited feel, and from the little he'd seen so far, he suspected this extended throughout the rest of the house. He supposed Blaine didn't do much in the way of cooking or food preparation, and he probably didn't entertain visitors on a regular basis. As much as Kurt appreciated tidiness and keeping everything in its proper place, even he found the stark, minimalist environment a little disconcerting. He made straight for the coffee machine in the corner of the kitchen, and tentatively pressed buttons and turned handles until the aroma of roast coffee started to emerge.
He'd suffered a restless night, being somewhat prone to bouts of insomnia, and the cup of coffee he'd had with his toast had barely dragged him into the land of the living. Since Blaine seemed to be running late, he'd decided to try out his boss' machine rather than wait until later. Grateful he'd managed to operate the machine he hoped a second shot of caffeine would overcome his lethargy.
It was Thursday morning and the fourth day of his tenure as Blaine Anderson's new chauffeur. Blaine had mostly ignored him since the first morning, speaking to him only when necessary, but otherwise the job had been unremarkable thus far. He'd driven Blaine to and from the office each day, ferried him to various appointments around the city, and picked him up the previous evening after a business dinner. The job wasn't taxing and gave him a fair bit of downtime, allowing him to run personal errands and otherwise amuse himself while he waited until he was needed again. He didn't know if Blaine's aloofness was his normal behaviour, if he was preoccupied with business matters, or if Blaine just didn't like him very much. He had no doubt that Blaine could turn on the charm when he chose to – the man certainly wasn't lacking in looks, confidence or charisma– but perhaps that didn't extend to the hired help. Blaine continued to address him by his surname, possibly in petty retaliation for Kurt's use of the 'Sir' honorific. He supposed it was silly to address a man only three years his senior so formally, but he tended to be a bit old-fashioned, and he believed in showing respect to one's elders and employers. He took pride in his etiquette and professionalism. He may have come from a poor, working-class family, but that didn't mean he was incapable of showing politeness and respect and behaving in a gentlemanly manner. It was incumbent on a well-trained chauffeur to conduct himself with detachment and not draw undue attention in the performance of his duties.
Unfortunately, and much to his annoyance, Blaine's taciturn behaviour bothered him more than he cared to admit. He'd dealt with his fair share of ill-tempered employers in the past, but for some reason he couldn't quantify, he wanted Blaine to like him. The fact that he felt an intense attraction to the man had nothing to do with it. The unfamiliar coffee machine proved no match for him, and he was soon settled at the table and sipping gratefully at the dark, aromatic brew. Staring out of the windows at the grey, overcast morning, he was lost in his thoughts when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. He scrambled to his feet as Blaine entered the room, almost spilling coffee into his lap in the process.
"Good morning, Sir." Kurt arranged his features into his usual polite smile of greeting. "I... uh... I made myself a cup of coffee while I was waiting. I hope that's all right?" Blaine looked momentarily startled to see him, but then waved a hand dismissively. "Yes, of course." He sighed and slumped down into the chair across from where Kurt was standing. Kurt took a moment to take in the man's appearance. Blaine was dressed in dark grey suit trousers and a pale mauve shirt, but he wasn't wearing a tie or jacket. Instead, the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to the elbows, the top two buttons at his neck unfastened, the shirt's tailored fit highlighting Blaine's toned shoulders, compact frame, and slim but taught waist. Dragging his gaze away from Blaine's nicely toned forearms, Kurt looked at the other man's eyes. He noted the weariness in their amber depths, accompanied by tell-tale dark circles underneath. Blaine's hair was in disarray, as if he'd been running his hands through it in frustration. "Would you like a cup?" Kurt offered. Blaine nodded, rolling his shoulders and rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Sure. Black, no sugar." Kurt retrieved a second black cup from one of the overhead cupboards and prepared Blaine's coffee. He carried it across to the table and set it down in front of the other man. "Careful, Sir, it's hot."
Stepping back, he stood uncertainly for a moment, not sure what to do with himself. Deciding to take a chance that his presence wasn't unwelcome, he eased himself back into his chair and resumed drinking his coffee. Blaine remained silent, just staring down at the steaming mug in front of him.
"Is everything all right?" Kurt asked cautiously. Blaine looked up, giving him a flicker of a weak smile. "Yeah, everything's fine. I'm working on a couple of big deals and didn't get much sleep." Kurt nodded sympathetically. He considered what he'd seen earlier of Blaine's sparse pantry and cupboards. "I could get you some breakfast," he suggested, figuring he could at least manage to produce a bowl of cereal. Blaine shook his head. "Thanks, but I'll get something at the office." Another hint of a smile passed over his lips. "Quinn's always feeding me. I'm sure she's convinced I'll starve otherwise." He laughed humourlessly. "She's probably right." He picked up his mug and took a sip, his eyes became almost comically wide, and he took another longer drink. "This is fantastic."
Inordinately pleased by Blaine's reaction, Kurt watched as the man took another taste. Blaine let out an appreciative moan that sent a shot of adrenaline racing down Kurt's spine that settled and coiled low in his stomach. He swallowed down a gulp of his own coffee, willing his body to get control of itself. "Glad you like it, Sir. It's like your own peronal Starbucks."
"I don't use it very often." Blaine shrugged. "I mostly drink instant when I'm here by myself." Kurt almost failed to suppress a surprised expression. "Instant?" Blaine smirked, apparently amused by the look of disgust Kurt knew had to be written all over his face. "I take it you're not a fan?" Kurt shuddered. "Um… it's… yeah… no..." Blaine swallowed another mouthful. "Well, after tasting this, I can see why. There's really no comparison."
Kurt found himself studying the sensual movement of Blaine's Adam's apple as his boss continued to drink. His gaze moved down to the base of Blaine's throat and the tantalising glimpse of smooth skin displayed by his open collar. He wondered what it would be like to delve his tongue into that hollow, licking salty sweat from heated flesh before trailing his mouth back up to Blaine's full lips...
"Hummel, are you okay?" Kurt blinked. Blaine had lowered his coffee mug and was staring at him. Feeling a rush of heat rising in his cheeks, he hoped he was imagining the knowing, almost smug look Blaine was giving him. He cleared his throat. "Sorry…" He gave Blaine a sheepish smile. "I didn't sleep very well last night either. Um... you were saying?" Unable to hold Blaine's scrutiny, he lowered his gaze, settling his attention on where Blaine's hands were clasped around the coffee cup. His hands were tanned, masculine and well-manicured – strong, capable hands befitting their owner. Which lead him to imagine how it might feel to have one of those hands wrapped around...
Mortified by his treacherous thoughts, Kurt gave himself a sharp mental slap and forced his attention back to Blaine's face, which seemed to be the safest option at the moment. He didn't know why Blaine was affecting him like this. Admittedly, his libido had been dormant since his breakup with John, then there had been the grief over Henry's passing and the emotional toll of the months leading up to it. He'd been unhappy and depressed for a while now, with nothing but the companionship of his right hand for far too long. This inappropriate attraction to Blaine had reignited a spark in him, and all of a sudden his sex drive seemed to be back with a vengeance. Blaine was making him feel like a libidinous, lust-crazed teenager, and he didn't dare consider what Blaine must be thinking of his unprofessional behaviour. But Blaine's expression cleared, and he looked unperturbed. "Tell me something about yourself, Hummel." Kurt was startled by the non-sequitur. "There's nothing really to tell, Sir." He shrugged. "I'm not very interesting."
Blaine frowned. "I'm sure that's not true. You seem like a man of..." He paused as if searching for the right phrase. "Hidden depths?" he finished with a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. Kurt felt his eyebrows lift with a mixture of surprise and amusement. Apparently Blaine wasn't above turning on the charm with the hired help after all. When he didn't reply, Blaine's expression turned thoughtful. "You don't wear a wedding ring, so I assume you're not married? Anyone special if your life? Girlfriend? Boyfriend? Cat?" Kurt swallowed the last mouthful of his coffee and considered his response, unsure whether Blaine was deliberately fishing for details about his sexuality or merely trying to make small talk. Not that he had anything to hide, and he was pretty sure Blaine had already realised he was gay, it was an assumption most people made. He shook his head. "Boyfriend. I mean if there was someone. But there isn't. Not for a while now." He decided not to elaborate, not wanting to divulge the details of his hapless love life to his new boss. Figuring turnabout was fair play, however, he gave Blaine a curious look. "And you?"
Blaine lowered his gaze to the table, his fingers idly toying with his coffee cup. "No, there's no one." He glanced up at Kurt, his lips curving into what was a transparently forced smile. "Work takes up most of my time, and I'm not the easiest of people to be with."
Kurt felt a stab of sympathy, the sadness in Blaine's voice affecting him more than he would have expected. He shrugged. "Maybe you just haven't found someone who knows how to handle you."
The words were out of his mouth before he'd realised how inappropriate they must have sounded. He was about to apologise, but Blaine surprised him by responding with a bark of laughter, his expressive eyes suddenly alight with humour and crinkling in amusement.
"Maybe you're right," Blaine replied after he'd stopped laughing, still looking amused. It was the first time Kurt had heard Blaine laugh, and he liked the sound. More than liked it, in fact. For just a moment, Blaine's handsome face had come to life and was even more breathtaking. Although dismayed that he now found the man more appealing than before, Kurt felt some of his earlier tension begin to ease. It seemed possible that they might get along all right after all. They held each other's gaze for a moment, then Blaine stood up and collected both of their empty cups.
"Thanks for the coffee." He smiled down at Kurt, unleashing his dazzling eyes to the max. Blaine carried their mugs over to the sink, rinsed them, then placed them in the dishwasher. He admonished himself when he realised he was once again admiring the way Blaine's clothes accentuated what was without doubt a magnificent physique. Blaine turned back towards him. "I need you to do a laundry and dry cleaning run today. Come upstairs and I'll show you what needs doing and where to put things when you bring them back." Kurt nodded. "Of course, Sir."
He followed Blaine from the kitchen and into the wide hallway that ran the length of the house. The dark hardwood flooring in the kitchen continued throughout, contrasting pleasantly with the crisp, albeit rather stark, white walls. Although not wanting to seem overly curious, Kurt tried to take in as much of his surroundings as possible. Passing the downstairs bathroom, he spotted what appeared to be Blaine's home office. On the other side was a home cinema room, along with an empty room at the rear which was probably meant to be a secondary living area, also with French doors leading outside. As they reached the sweeping staircase leading upwards from the foyer, he saw a large living room to the left of the front entrance and a formal dining room on the right. The dining room was empty except for a long dining table, but the living room, while still fairly sparse, had a more lived in appearance, with a large L-shaped sofa, a couple of matching armchairs, coffee table, bookshelves and an entertainment unit with a massive flat-screen television. He supposed this was the main room that Blaine used along with his office.
Blaine lead him up the wide staircase and down the upstairs hallway. From what Kurt could tell, there were a substantial number of bedrooms, another informal living room, a walk in linen closet and two more bathrooms. As they reached the end of the hallway, he saw a room that had been transformed into a well-equipped home gym. He hurried past, his mind betraying him as it conjured up lurid images of a shirtless, sweaty Blaine in the midst of a vigorous workout.
The master bedroom took up the back part of the upper floor, its windows looking out over the rear of the property. Once again the room was sparsely furnished, the king-size bed being the dominant feature, but even it looked slightly lost in the spacious room. A pair of doors to the left led to an en-suite bathroom and a dressing room. Like the downstairs living room, the practical hardwood flooring gave way to plush, light-coloured carpet. He followed Blaine into the dressing room with its wall-to-wall wardrobes, drawers and storage cubbies. Blaine explained what he expected him to do on a weekly basis, showing him where to find the clothes waiting to be laundered and dry cleaned, and where to hang and put away the clothes on their return. Looking around at Blaine's vast collection of the finest designer shirts, suits, ties and shoes, Kurt couldn't help being awestruck and a more than a little envious. Blaine had excellent taste and clearly spared no expense on his clothing.
"Feel free to use my dry cleaning account for your own things as well," Blaine concluded. Kurt gave him an appreciative smile. "Thank you. That's very generous."
"No problem." Blaine glanced around and exhaled a weary-sounding sigh. "I need to get to the office. Just give me a couple of minutes and I'll be ready. I'll meet you down at the car." Kurt nodded and held Blaines gaze for just a second, then collected the suits for cleaning along with Blaine's laundry bag, heading to the door. He stopped by the doorway and looked back.
"I'll be waiting, Sir."