Title: How To Save A Life
Author: PuppeteerofLife, aka xlifelongsorrowx
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Possible triggers, mentions of non-con, mentions of child prostitution, dub-con
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 2,600
Summary: When Special Agent Blaine Anderson is used as the distraction in an operation to stop a child prostitution ring, he certainly didn't expect to engage in activities with Kurt Hummel. And he especially didn't expect to fall in love with his boss' teenage son.
Prompt: Written for this prompt at glee_kink_meme: Burt, Blaine and several others are special agents working on gang people responsible for child prostitution and it looks like one of those children is Burt's kidnapped very long time ago son.
How To Save A Life
Chapter Two:
The boy standing in front of Blaine was insanely beautiful. Blaine could not believe he was thinking this about a teenage boy, but he could not help but think it. It was so true. The teenager had light cinnamon colored hair, and beautiful blue-grey eyes. His eyes seemed dull and depressed. 'Now why on earth would that be?' Blaine wondered sarcastically. Even in tattered clothing, with scratches along his face, Blaine had never seen a man look quite so beautiful.
It took him a full minute to realize what he had thought, and correct his mental voice, realizing that the boy in front of him was just that; a boy. Not a man. He was a poor, heart-wrenching young boy who had been forced to grow up far too quickly.
"Hello."
Blaine forced the whisper past his thick throat, past his dry lips, so that the sound waves were released into the air, being carried across the empty space, into the beautiful boy's ears. The teenager in question snapped his head up, his eyes wide with shock.
Blaine realized with a fierce shot of pain in his heart, that the boy must be used to rough handling, not softly spoken words, but fierce grabs, and sharp movements. Blaine honestly felt like he could start crying right about now. How could anyone hurt this seemingly perfect and innocent boy? How could anyone want to damage him? Yet at the same time, Blaine realized how appealing he would be to pimps, and potential clients.
He was effeminate, slight yet muscular, a beautiful build. He looked feminine enough to satisfy most drunken men, and for the gay ones, well, the boy looked like he could turn a straight man gay, so there was no telling what could happen there.
Making sure his movements were slow and deliberate, Blaine moved across the room, approaching the small teenager quietly. The teen's eyes followed him warily as he did so, watching, waiting. It broke Blaine's heart to know that the teenager had to, that this was something the teenager had to do to protect himself, without ever being able to truly protect himself. It was heartbreaking, and if Blaine hadn't been a true professional, he knew he would have been in tears by now. Though there was no telling if his emotionless professional façade would be able to hold through the night.
Blaine noticed, as he stepped towards the blue eyed boy, that the teenager's muscles tensed with each step. The teenager did not move, but Blaine knew he wanted to. He knew, that no matter how sweet, how gentle he would be, this teenager would not want this. And to some degree, that hurt. Blaine was about to have sex with a beautiful young man, and the person he would be sharing it with, would not want it. But Blaine could not blame him in the slightest.
Gently, ever so gently, Blaine reached up a hand, and slowly-oh so slowly-pushed back a stray lock of the teenager's sweaty, dirty hair. Leaning down, Blaine whispered in the teen's ear, trying to relax him, even though he himself was still so tense. "I promise you, I am not going to hurt you."
And as Blaine looked into the teenager's guarded blue eyes, he knew, that to some degree, the teenager believed that Blaine was telling the truth. And that was all Blaine wanted. He needed the teen to know that he would not be like the others, that he was here to help.
Meanwhile, back in the truck, Burt, Wes, and David were all watching the screens intently. The other three members of the team were trying to spare their friend's dignity, and were not watching. However, the three who were did not like what they saw.
Blaine was Wes and David's good friend. They were a year older than him, they had all gone to school together, all taken Forensics together. They had decided to enlist together, and they were now on the team together. They knew the gist of what had happened to Blaine, and they knew this was a sensitive spot. They especially did not want to have to watch their friend have his first time, with a child, with someone that he had no emotional attachment to, but it was part of their jobs to have their eyes glued to the screen at all times.
Burt Hummel had taken to Blaine quite well, often thinking of him as a surrogate son. He could never replace the hole in his heart that was Kurt, however, he was quite fond of the curly haired, amiable man named Blaine. He had not wanted Blaine to go through with it, but he wanted his son back. He had selfishly ordered Blaine to lose his virginity, to have sex with a minor, to save his son. And now he was paying back for it in a major way.
He had been unable to keep the air in his mouth, he had let out a tiny, imperceptible gasp, at seeing Kurt's face fill up the computer screen. For a moment, Burt had been too happy to see his son, too sad at seeing the state he was in, to truly register that he was seeing his son, because Blaine was in the same room as him. That his co-worker would be having sex with his son.
His hands had curled into fists at his sides, his nails digging into the soft flesh of his palms, as he watched Blaine approach him, and breathily whisper in Kurt's ear. They did not have audio, and for the first time, Burt wanted them to. Wes had insisted on removing it, saying that they owed Blaine that much, that if there was trouble, he would turn on his earpiece. However, Burt wanted to know what the hell Blaine was telling his son.
Never had he ever hated Blaine Anderson so much, then at that moment. He knew this was just karma coming to bite him in the ass, payback being a bitch, but he couldn't stand it. That was his son for God's sakes! That was his baby boy, the last piece he had of his first wife. The last time Burt had seen Kurt was when the teenager had been thirteen years old, and had promptly covered his ears and started singing, when Burt attempted to give him the talk that every teenage boy had to have before entering high school. Now he was seventeen years old, emotionally damaged by countless others, and about to get fucked by Burt's co-worker.
Burt was no fool. He knew perfectly well that Blaine could charm the pants off just about anyone. He was smooth, eloquent, and perfectly dapper. Whenever they would go on missions, it often caused a bit of a hold up, women trying to give Blaine their numbers, and Blaine having to stop and politely explain to them that he was gay. But Burt had never imagined that his gay co-worker would be getting into the pants of his equally gay son.
Sensing Burt's growing irritation, Jeff piped up from the back of the van, saying, "You know Burt, you were the one who told him to go in there."
Burt responded, never tearing his eyes away from the screen, where Blaine's hand was currently cupping Kurt's chin, slowly leaning in for a soft kiss. "Yeah, but somehow the thought never crossed my mind that I might have to watch him fuck my son who I haven't seen since he was thirteen and painstakingly naïve about sex."
The van was silent, and all eyes turned to Burt, who resolutely kept his eyes glued to the video feed coming from Blaine's camera. The twenty-one year old special agent now had Kurt's lips trapped in a kiss, and his hands were wandering further down his chest.
"But you know what they say. Payback's a bitch."
Blaine's hand was slowly slipping down the teenager's sides, causing the boy under him to shudder. Blaine didn't know if it was in disgust or in pleasure. Probably both. Blaine knew the sickening feeling of not wanting this, yet being turned on by it at the same time. He knew that the teenager must be feeling like his body betrayed him.
Sliding his hand down the teenager's leg, Blaine fingered the button on the younger boy's jeans. He didn't want to do this. Oh god, he so did not want to do this. He felt like a cradle robber, like he was taking a part of this boy's innocence. If he went through with this madness, he would be stripping this boy of something. How could he do to this poor soul what had been done to him all those years ago?
But he had orders. The only thing that kept him going was the knowledge that if Blaine managed to fulfill his orders, then he could save this boy, and the countless other children that had been put through this horrible abuse. As Blaine slowly unzipped the teenagers' pants, he saw him squeeze his eyes shut, just as Blaine wanted to do. God, he was a sick human being. He was taking advantage of this kid, preying on the innocent, all because he was following orders. What kind of twisted world did they live in?
Taking a deep breath, Blaine pulled down the teens' pants, and tugged down his boxers with them. Blaine knew, right then and now, that he couldn't go all the way. There was no possible way. He needed to maintain some sense of boundaries. He would not be so cruel to this boy.
Slowly, he got down on his knees. He did not look at the teen's member. He would not invade his privacy like that. They may both be participating in the most intimate of acts, but Blaine knew neither of them truly wanted it. Not like this. Slowly, Blaine took the boy in his mouth.
The teenager let out a surprised squeak above him, and Blaine had to wonder if anyone ever had given him a blowjob before. Had anyone ever given him anything before, or had it been all take? Blaine didn't understand why, considering this was one of the most amazing feelings ever.
He instantly reprimanded himself, forcing himself to remember that this was an underage boy who had been enslaved and forced into the life of prostitution against his will. Blaine was not supposed to enjoy this, but oh god, how could he not?
The teenager was so hard, his salty pre-come dripping into Blaine's mouth. Blaine licked the underside of the teen's shaft, trying to make things good for the poor teen. If they had to have sex, he might as well make sure that the boy enjoyed himself. It was at that moment that Blaine realized he didn't even know if the teenager was gay or not. But it really didn't seem to be an appropriate time to ask, when he was currently deep throating the boy's cock.
Blaine couldn't help but wonder how the boy remained so still. How could he just stand there like a statue when someone was sucking on his cock? And then Blaine remembered, from his own experience, that during non-consensual sexual activities, the last thing you wanted was to actually enjoy yourself. And this boy must have had years of practice at not responding to the sexual stimulation.
So the older man considered it a great compliment that a whimper escaped those closed lips, that his hips thrusted into Blaine's mouth, shoving his hard cock even further down Blaine's throat. It was only now that Blaine realized it, but he himself was hard. He could hardly do anything about it, and he would never expect this boy to do anything about it either, but in just a few moments it could be problematic.
It seemed that Blaine was holding out longer than this teenager, which was a shock. The porcelain skinned boy was coming hard and fast down his throat, and oh- oh, Blaine quite liked that. The boy tasted a little bit like coffee and strawberries. Oh, well that was pretty nice.
Suddenly realizing that a boy, a teenage boy at least four years younger than himself, was making him hard, had come into Blaine's throat, quickly sufficed to kill Blaine's hard on. Blaine stood, and briskly zipped the boy up. As he did so, he made the mistake of looking into his eyes.
The teenager's eyes had brightened considerably, making them even more breathtaking. His brows were furrowed, confusion evident on his face. His sweet, beautiful mouth was slightly parted, and he managed to stutter out, "Wh-wha?"
It was then that three gunshots rang from above them.
"I'm Special Agent Blaine Anderson." Blaine quickly spoke to the boy, his tone apologetic. God he was sorry, so sorry the boy would never even know, that things had happened this way. "I'm sorry to have…taken advantage of you like that, but it was on orders. I have a team here, we're here to help you and the other children here. Do you know where they are?"
The teen nodded wordlessly, and pointed in the direction of the door. Blaine nodded, and quickly grabbed his notebook. "I'll need to know your name for my report."
The teenager swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. Well that was pretty damn sexy-what the hell? One blowjob and Blaine started thinking of teenagers in terms like 'sexy'? What the hell was wrong with him? God, this poor teenager must think he was a sick pedophile of some sort!
"It's Kurt. I'm Kurt Hummel."
Blaine promptly dropped his notebook, and stared at the boy, his mouth hanging open unabashedly. In a small part of his mind, it registered that the teenager in front of him had a beautiful, high, melodic voice, but the rest of his brain was a little more focused on something else. Namely the fact that he had just given a fucking blowjob to his boss' son.
Oh god, this was messed up on so many levels.