A.N. Seriously…my cat is halfway on my stomach with his paw around my boob and every time I stop typing for too long, he starts digging his claws into me. And he stares at the screen in this creepy way… O__O;;; My kitteh is a Buttsecks Kitteh.

Although I'm replying to all your reviews (except for the anonymous ones and the people who won't let me send PMs), I just wanted to say that I really appreciate your feedback. Your kind words encourage me to keep going and your critiques help me to improve my writing. I still have a lot to learn about constructing eloquent prose. xD

Okay…I have to warn you…I'm going to be sort of poking fun at Glee and other musicals in general. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE musicals and I've been in many myself, but I sort of decided to make fun of the more bizarre aspects of theater. Please forgive me for this.

Also, the song in this chapter is "Blackmail" by The Runaways. An old 1976 rock song that somehow has a swing feel to it… don't you love my variety? xD

Sorry that this is unbeta-ed by the way. I just was a little late posting this up and I didn't want to make you all wait.

~*~

"You can't be serious!"

That sweet voice was fluttering at a note bound for the heavens. That voice---it was immaculate. From the moment Jesse heard him speak, he wanted to hear that voice say things intended for his ears only. Wanted to hear that voice produce inarticulate sounds. Whimpers. Moans. Cries of ecstasy…

And soon, that voice would belong to him.

Well, not technically, since he was quite content with being a baritone, but if he was going to own Kurt, he would also own Kurt's voice, wouldn't he? "Wait…you want to own him? Have you lost your mind?!" Probably. He heard Kurt's voice in his dreams every night ever since Jesse saw him strutting around in his Cheerios uniform, belting out "4 Minutes". So, yeah…Jesse probably had lost his mind.

"Serious as an STD." Jesse whispered huskily into Kurt's bright pink ear. His ears blushed. Cute.

Suddenly, Kurt became remarkably less cute when he delivered a swift back-kick to Jesse's shin, digging his designer heels into his leg. The older teen let out a pained cry, unintentionally releasing the tiny brunet. God---that was going to bruise. However, it was more than his leg that was going to be bruised. The fact that a dainty princess like Kurt Hummel could really pose as a threat to him greatly bruised his ego. Sure, Jesse was reasonably strong, being a dancer and all. But his exercise routine mostly consisted of aerobic activities in favor of bench-pressing or wrestling. So what if he might have a little trouble keeping Kurt pinned against a wall? It didn't mean that he no longer had a imposing presence

"You're disgusting." Kurt's tone was deeper than usual as he backed away from the taller boy, cheeks flushed. "You can't force me to…" His breathing was ragged and shallow, fists clenched at his sides. "Do you realize what you're asking me?"

Kurt's words made him freeze, which was usually a bad thing to do when one was standing on one foot and nursing their injured leg. Consequently, he toppled over onto the ground, hitting the cement floor.

There was a heavy pause as Jesse suffered in silence, really hurting primarily from his injured pride.

And then Kurt started laughing. As much as Jesse was loathe to admit it, the pretty boy's laughter was about the sweetest sound he'd ever heard, even if it was directed at him with malicious intent.

Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, he returned his focus to the real problem. His seemingly immortal hard-on that his hand wouldn't even satisfy. And since when did Jesse St. James need masturbation? Since he had to start dating Cock-Block Berry, that's when. Not to mention that there were absolutely no open gays in the entire school. Except for Hummel, of course.

So Jesse stood up with a wince as Kurt's laughter died down. "To answer your inquiry…I do know what I'm asking you. But here's the real question…do you know what I'm asking you?"At that, Kurt was silent, color steadily draining from his face as he stared up at the other boy.

"I'm...pretty sure that you want me as your booty call." Kurt responded softly, shifting the beret on his head.

"You put it a bit bluntly---"

"So says the gentleman who wanted me as his...and I quote...'bitch'."

"I did say that, didn't I? Stupid erection making me lose my wonderful talent of seduction." Jesse took a deep breath to collect himself. He knew he was going to have to treat Kurt like he did Rachel. Butter him up, make him swoon, and reap the benefits. However, he found the thought of getting Kurt to fall for that sickeningly romantic persona he used to get in boys' (and semi-girls like Rachel) pants rather unappealing. No...he wanted Kurt to fall for the manipulative bastard he was. Then they'd go off to Vocal Adrenaline together and share the incredible stardom that Jesse knew he was going to have after leaving UCLA. A cold, businesslike relationship on the outside with hot, steamy sex behind closed doors. Yes...he had really thought this out. Don't call him crazy.

"I just..." Jesse sighed, trying to appear as if he were embarrassed. As if. He hadn't been nervous, anxious, or ashamed since he was seven years old. No way was he going to actually fall back into that old habit. Only amateurs got nervous and Jesse St. James was a professional through and through. He hoped he was putting on a good act, though. Wait...of course he was. He was talented, after all. "Kurt...I...like you."

"You certainly have a lovely way of showing it." The brunet scoffed, turning up his cute little button nose.

"Listen...I'm sorry if I've come across as---"

"Crude? Boorish? Vindictive? Deceitful? Loathsome---?"

"Alright, I get the point." Jesse grumbled. Even though Kurt's voice was beautiful, he really used it too much for the wrong sorts of noises. "I just..."

"--want to fuck me."

Jesse's grey eyes widened at the soprano's outburst. He hadn't ever heard him curse, so he automatically assumed that he didn't. He had such a colorful vocabulary that didn't seem to have the need for those vulgar monosyllabic words. Even so, the sound of that angelic voice saying such a filthy word made Jesse's erection strain in his pants. God---Kurt was like an angel. A bitchy angel with designer clothing, but an angel all the less. He had to be a virgin. There was no doubt in Jesse's mind that he wasn't. And that milky, flawless skin graced with several stray freckles and birthmarks just begged to be marked.

Kurt was an angel. And Jesus---the older boy longed to make him fall. A debauched angel. The images alone drove him wild.

"Yes." Jesse growled, completely forgetting all those mushy, romantic lines he had used to make Rachel fall for him. Right then, he was impossibly aroused and the only person who could fix that was standing right in front of him. That sweet little soprano with his invisible wings and halo. "I want you like Vincente Minnelli wanted Judy Garland." Jesse could have hit himself after that, if he weren't so concerned about making marks on his "make for close-ups" skin.

"...I know the irony of me saying this will be insurmountable, but...that was really gay." Kurt crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows in that deliciously condescending manner. Yet, Jesse wasn't going to put up with it anymore. It was time to show the prissy fashionista who held the power. So he bent down and began gathering the photos, turning on his heel to walk out of the room. He counted in his head to see how long it would take Kurt to start groveling. "One...Two...Thr--"

"Jesse, wait!"

"Perfect." The taller boy turned around slowly, running his free hand through his curly, light brown hair. "Yes, Miss Garland?"

Kurt took a deep breath, his long eyelashes fluttering as he did so. God---he must have been wearing mascara. A nice brand, too. Maybe DiorShow? After all, he couldn't see any clumps, and DiorShow separated the lashes incredibly, lengthening and thickening the sparsest of eyelashes. What? He used it for stage make-up, alright? Anyway, Kurt was opening and closing his slutty mouth that would stretch so prettily around his cock. "Focus, Jesse."

"I don't know what game you're playing here...and I'm uncertain of your true motives, but I---" His blue-green eyes slowly changed to a dewy green as he made his decision. Jesse could practically hear the thrumming of the wheels turning in his head. "...are you breaking up with Rachel?"

Jesse sighed, putting the photographs on an overturned milk crate. "Unfortunately, no." He knew he needed to make up a lie in order to dispel Kurt's suspicions of him being a double-agent. So, like the Grinch, he thought up a lie and he thought it up quick. "She's my cover. I...can't come out of the closet or my folks will disown me. They're Catholics, you know. My Uncle's the priest at our church. Last week he gave a sermon about how gays stopped God's plan for every man to find a woman...and he basically said that we'll rot in hell." Well, the part about his uncle was true, but his parents were actually Presbyterians and every year they attended the Gay Pride parade with his lesbian aunt (not the one the homophobic uncle's side of the family). But Kurt didn't need to know that. "Once I get to college, I'll come out. It's not like I need to have my parents pay for my tuition—"

"Could you please cut it out with the story?" Kurt's ever-changing eyes shifted to a cold blue. "I just wanted to know where I stand in this…liaison. The question about Rachel was intended to reveal your true motives for blackmailing me. So, let me be frank, here…" The brunet studied his neatly manicured nails. French tips. Of course. "Do you want me as your boyfriend or your booty call?"

"I want you to be whatever will compel you to have sex with me and let me fuck you." Jesse dropped the romantic, charming act yet again. Kurt just had this effect on him that caused him to drop all pretenses and facades. Something about that bitchy aura melted away the dazzling veneer of Jesse St. James...star of Vocal Adrenaline. The senior almost wanted to hold out his hand and pull out the 'Hi, I'm Jesse' stunt that he used on Rachel and pretty much every slut he wanted to bang. When he was with Rachel, the art of bullshitting came as naturally as breathing. But it was different with Kurt.. And that terrified him. Yet, it also excited him. "I want you to do whatever I say and I'll you'll let me fuck you whenever and wherever I want." He smirked when he heard a tiny squeak. He had nearly forgotten how adorable virgins could be. After all, virgins like Rachel Berry were far less appealing. "You also aren't to tell a soul about what goes on between us. If you even give someone I tip-off, I'll do more than just put out those pictures. I'll have more material I can give out on you. If you tell---"

"--you'll ruin me. I know the drill." Kurt was trying to sound confident, but it was obvious that he was terrified. "Is it really necessary that you do this? I'll bet you could go find a gay bar in Cleveland..."

"Now you're grasping at straws, darling." Jesse couldn't resist advancing towards the lovely soprano and taking him by the hand. As he anticipated, Kurt pulled away from his touch. "I'm not giving you another chance at this. Is a couple of months of what I'm sure will be the best sex of your life really all that bad?"

"No...it's not." At this, Jesse raised his eyebrows. Not at all the answer he expected. "...but that's not what you're offering, is it? What you're offering me is several months of constantly stroking your already swollen ego and stroking...your...underdeveloped, filthy genitalia. You're offering me several months of hell and a lifetime of scarring memories." Ah...there's the Kurt he knew and lusted for. "Not to mention that you plan to...take my V-Card when I'm saving it for someone else!"

"Who? Hudson?" Jesse almost felt guilty from the hurt expression on the soprano's face. Almost being the key word. "Hate to break it to you, but you don't have a chance. He's infatuated with Rachel. Even when I have her." Jesse couldn't deny his burning desire to seize Kurt by the waist and press him against his body. And he did so, trapping Kurt's arms to his sides. "But that isn't the point, dear. Even if you find the prospect of being deflowered by me truly revolting, is it really worth putting your family in danger when the whole town learns about how you lust over Lima's star football player and how you're slowly converting the young population to homosexuality."

"You can't /convert/ to---"

"/I/ know that. But do these ignorant rednecks know that? Homophobes will believe anything as long as it gives bad publicity to the gay community. That being said, your Mom and Dad are going to get phone calls, hate mail, suspicious packages, dents in their cars..."

"Please...stop." The younger boy bit his trembling lower lip. At last, Kurt Hummel was vulnerable. For what reason, Jesse didn't know, but he was so ecstatic from the thrill of stripping the ingenue of his armor that he couldn't find it in himself to care.

And that's when the music number started up. Upbeat rock/swing music (from God-knows-where) started playing in the dusty room, which soon became significantly less dusty. In fact, the unlit storage room suddenly was bathed in a dim, red light.

Then Jesse started singing. And of course he knew the song. Everyone knows the songs and choreography by heart in a musical, so why should real life be any different?

"You put it to me and now we'll play my game." Jesse pressed Kurt against brick wall that appeared out of nowhere. In fact, they were no longer in a storage room. Instead, they were in an alleyway…simply from the power of music. "I'll wrap you up and you'll go insane." Surprisingly, there was practically no effort involved in keeping Kurt immobile while belting out a fast-paced song,

"It took so long and I waited my turn
You'll pay your debt, I'm gonna make you burn, you know…"

There was a clash of cymbals and the two teens found themselves on a checkered dance floor in a night club. And they had on completely different outfits. Jesse found himself in a Humphrey Bogart-style gangster suit while Kurt found himself in a black Flapper dress with a feathered headpiece. And he was wearing fishnets. Score for the Jesse. Sometimes he loved how these musical numbers would bend to his will.

"You'll wish you were never born…
Blackmail, blackmail!"

All the sudden, he had background singers, oohing and aahing along with the melody as he pulled the confused soprano against him. Jesse ground his hips against that perfect ass, running a hand up his fishnet-clad thigh.

"I'll make you pay for the life that you tore...
Blackmail, black—mail~!"

There was a musical interlude where Jesse proceeded to give Kurt an aggressive spin before they started swing-dancing. And of course they danced perfectly. It didn't matter that Kurt had no idea what was going on.

Then they were back in the random alleyway. This time, the brick walls were covered with obscene pictures of Kurt. Kurt naked with his legs wide open, bent over a table. Kurt sucking him off. Kurt getting fucked from behind and—

Oh…that's right. He had a song to finish.

So there were pictures of Kurt on the wall and he had the real Kurt on his knees at Jesse's feet. To the baritone's delight, he had the brunet collared to a chain that Jesse was in possession of. Sweet.

"I know about you and I'm gonna tell,
The way I planned, you're gonna go through hell!
You listen to what I'm about to say…"

Jesse yanked the chain upwards, forcing the baffled teen to look at him. "Or you won't live to see the light of day, you know—"

They were back at the club, dancing once again. This time, however, the dancing involved much less swing-dancing and considerably more groping and grinding. Jesse wasn't opposed to this at all.

"You'll wish you were never born
Blackmail, blackmail
I'll make you pay for the life that you tore
Blackmail, black—mail!"

Jesse gracefully dipped Kurt, supporting his back as he bent back and lifted a fishnet-clad leg in the air.

Without warning, they were back in the storage room and sporting their usual clothing, however they were still in their end-position for the number.

Then Jesse let Kurt drop to the floor. And with that, the magic was shattered.

"So, you see…" Jesse spoke normally, as if they hadn't just performed an acid trip of a musical number. "…there are worse things than being a secret agent's booty call."

"I know." Kurt murmured, still on the floor, staring blankly at the older boy. "Fine."

"Fine what, Kurt?"

"I'll…do it."