"So, who are you with?" Blaine inquired as he poured a whisky on the rocks. Kurt took a grateful sip as he turned around in his chair towards the club's patrons.
"My friend, Santana." Kurt nursed his drink in his hands trying to spy where is friend could have gone too.
"Ah, her." Blaine seemed to know who she was. Kurt wondered what sort of reputation Santana was gaining here. "She's on the stripper pole, over there." Blaine pointed towards the pole closest towards the stage. She was spinning around the metal pole with her black dress knotted behind her, so it formed a robe, allowing her to comply with the no bare-ass rule. She was flirting hard with a tall blond woman who seemed to be teaching her some rather complicated moves. The blond was dressed in a black latex once piece, complete with a cat mask. God, she was flexible, the cat woman had somehow managed to fling one leg up parallel against the pole like some sort of vertical splits. That was not the most shocking thing, however, it was witnessing Santana enjoying herself. There she was, laughing again! If only phones were allowed! He needed photographic evidence.
"So, your Santana's guest." Kurt didn't realise Blaine was still beside him.
"Hostage would be the better term to use."
"Hmm, hostage, well you might enjoy the basement level then."
"No, no, I mean…" but it was too late, Blaine had walked off to serve another patron. Kurt gulped down another mouthful to smother his embarrassment. Right on time, Hummel, Kurt thought to himself, less than two minutes and you manage to embarrass yourself in front of this gorgeous guy.
Kurt resigned himself to his duty as a wall flower. He observed the costumes and people mingling around him. There was a lot of leather and fair bit of lace. Some people were dressed like Santana, barely wearing anything, while others wore more sophisticated attire which could have passed for a revealing cocktail dress. He spied the intimacy areas being put to good use. There were three people piled on one bed. Oh dear, there was even a crowed gathered around them. Kurt instinctively spun back to the bar, his heart racing with embarrassment. He was way out of his depth here. Completely inexperienced and utterly out of his depth. Kurt's cheeks must have flushed incredibly red because Blaine furrowed his brow and asked.
"Are you ok?" he handed a patron two glasses of water and turned his attentions to Kurt.
"Just feeling a little out of my depth here." Kurt figured he may as well be honest.
"I felt the same way when I first started working here. You'll get used to it pretty quickly. Why don't you go to Santana, meet her friends?"
"I don't want to put a damper on her flirting. Since she's been coming here, she's been rather pleasant to be around. This is a sacrifice I'm willing to make."
"Santana? Are you kidding me? She's like one of the sweetest people I've met, always asking me about my studies are going. Everyone loves her." Kurt stared at Blaine as if he had grown two heads.
"I feel like I've fallen down the rabbit hole." Kurt muttered.
"An Alice in Wonderland themed night is planned in July." Blaine joked with a wink.
"What are you studying?" Kurt really wished Blaine wasn't dashing around the bar serving everyone. Once he returned, he never failed to answer Kurt's questions.
"Psychology." Was his reply. "particularly sexual psychology, therapy. It's fascinating."
"Why don't you tell me about it?" Blaine's face lit up as he began to dive into his studies, discussing behaviours, phenomenon's, pointing out examples as he saw them across the nightclub.
Kurt listened, trying his very best not to become distracted by those perfect teeth and easy confidence.
"So, what are you into?" Blaine asked as if he were asking what Kurt's favourite drink was.
"Oh, I ah, I don't know." Kurt blushed and looked down at his hands. He didn't want to admit that he had experienced very little. When he mustered the courage to look up, he found Blaine still smiling, not at all phased by Kurt's confession. Blaine made him feel a little less odd in a place like this.
"That's ok." He sung, "That's what places like this are for."
Kurt did not reach his drinks limit, in fact, after a few hours of sitting by the bar, making casual conversation with Blaine between him serving patrons, Kurt became comfortably relaxed. Blaine's easy smile and Zen demeanour rubbed off on Kurt, who by the end of the night had grown confident enough to join Santana and her cat-lady friend. The club's atmosphere was thicker now, and Kurt angled his shoulder between pairs and threesomes getting their flirt on. Thankfully, it seemed, they could sense Kurt's nerves and let him pass with a friendly smile. Santana and her friend were sitting on the lounge, or rather, Santana was, the blond was sitting sideways on her lap.
"So, this must be Kurt." It was the blond that spoke before Santana realised who was sitting beside her. "Hi, I'm Brittany." She grinned behind her cat mask and extended a gloved hand.
"Nice to meet you. I like the body suit, and the ears."
"I like cats." She sung. "May I sit on your lap. Santana won't admit it, but her legs have pins and needles and she needs a break."
"Um, sure." Brittany's innocent charm was infectious. She spun from Santana's lap and sat herself down onto Kurt's. Her hair smelt like candyfloss. Kurt placed a hand to the small of her back, as any gentleman would, and the other on her knee. He felt those were acceptable positions.
"I think your mask would look great on Kurt." Santana suggested and before he knew it, Brittany had lifted her cat mask from her face and fitted it over Kurt's head. It was a snug fit, but it was oddly appealing.
"How do I look?" He tossed his head from side to side, modelling his new attire with pouted lips.
"Puurfect." Santana made a pun! this couldn't be Santana then, surely this was her good twin.
"Hey Kurt, do you like to watch two girls kiss?" Brittany inquired, twirling her finger around her hair flirtatiously.
"Brit, he's gay."
"But how do you know what he likes? Have you ever asked? You can't make assumptions, San." Before Kurt could answer diplomatically, Brittany reached across and pulled Santana towards her by one of her ropes. The girl's lips met inches in front of Kurt's face. The kiss was gentle, tender, both with a sneaky smile to the edges of their mouths. Brittany's cheeky hand slipped down the length of rope and found a plum coloured nipple to tease with a gentle pinch. Kurt's hands unconsciously gripped tighter into Brittany's knee.
Kurt watched, fascinated by how they moved. It wasn't the fact that there were two girls kissing in front of him that made him feel butterflies in his chest, it was the sweet sense that there was something special between Santana and this Brittany. It felt as if he had unlocked Santana's diary and was reading through her most intimate thoughts. After watching the two girls flirt with each other for most of the evening, this was the metaphorical climax of a romance movie. Well, rather, the closest thing Kurt was going to see in this place. It was for this reason that their kiss left Kurt grinning like a school boy. When the girls pulled apart their eyes lingered on each other. Kurt's suspicions were as good as fact. He would have to interrogate Santana later.
Santana muttered to Brittany, "Was I right?"
Brittany responded to the question by adjusting herself on Kurt's lap. Her face twisted as if trying to answer a difficult question.
"It's hard to tell, he's wearing really tight pants." Was Brittany trying too…?
"Oh, ok, Santana, you can have your lady friend back." Kurt basically flung Brittany from his lap and spun her back into Santana's. "I'm going back to the bar."
"Yeah you are." Kurt did his best to ignore Santana's insinuating comment. He didn't realise he was still wearing the cat mask.
Blaine very much appreciated the cat mask, although this appreciation was from a distance as he had a rather large cluster of patrons to serve. Kurt felt a little clingy returning to the bar so quickly and was partially relieved when a man took a seat beside him. At least then he could pretend he wasn't ogling the bartender. The man was an older gentleman with a wave of silver hair and a rather stylish suit that was far too well tailored to be in a place like this. It was a deep navy with a very subtle paisley pattern in the fabric.
"I like your suit." Kurt commented.
"Why thank you." The gentleman smiled. "I'm glad someone here appreciates a good tailor."
"Oh, trust me, when you've tried to make your own suit, it gives you a new-found appreciation for a well fitted suit jacket." The man looked impressed by Kurt's comment.
"Walter." The man held out a hand for Kurt to shake. "I haven't seen you around here before."
"First time here."
"Well then, welcome. You have to look out for the performance nights, they have some incredible shows on here."
Kurt and Walter continued to talk for a while. He discovered that Walter was here with his wife. He listened to Walter's story, discussing fashion trends he had worn in his younger days, how night clubs had changed, to how Walter had come to find himself in a club like this.
"You don't just leave someone after thirty years of marriage, even if you do discover yourself a litter later in life." Walter explained. "we've worked something out here and it works for us. If you cared to join us, we have a private room."
"I can't." Kurt apologised. "I'm just a guest." It was strange, but the offer didn't sound as absurd as he thought it would.
"Hi Walter. Do you need me to send anything up to your room?" Kurt's heart thudded faster at the sound of Blaine's voice.
"Oh, maybe the bottle of wine we put aside."
"I'll have it sent up."
Walter departed the bar, leaving Kurt once again in the company of Blaine. He wanted to ask Blaine a few questions about the types of shows the club performs here but he never got the chance. All too soon, Santana was pulling him from his seat and spinning him around the dance floor.
Santana and Kurt arrived back to the apartment in the very early hours of the morning. Kurt half expected Santana to return to her normal irritable self as soon as they crossed the threshold of the club, but to great delight, she remained exuberantly pleasant.
"Santana, I have to ask." Kurt pried, hooking their arms together as they ascended the stairs. "You and Brit?"
"No, we just catch up at the club, that's all."
"Right." Kurt muttered, not convinced. "But, do you like her?" Santana shrugged dismissively which meant Santana must really like this girl. Kurt smirked to himself, beginning to understand the source of Santana's new personality. Santana changed the topic of conversation very quickly.
"Do you think you'll be back?" Kurt thought for a moment, all in all, it wasn't a terrible night. The thought of seeing Blaine again was awfully enticing. At the risk of incriminating himself, he had to ask.
"The bartender seemed to know you by name." from the smirk on Santana's face, Kurt hadn't fooled anyone.
"Blaine. Yeah, he's cool."
"And… anything else you can tell me about him?"
"I'm going to leave that up to you to find out." Santana slipped the key into the lock and paused for a moment. She tilted her head curiously, "Kurt, have you ever had a boyfriend?"
"I've been on a few dates."
"And, anything else?"
"No." Kurt shook his head.
"Hmm." Santana mused smugly, impressed with herself. "I just sent a virgin into a sex club." The two of them crept into their bedrooms. Kurt spent the night researching all sorts of things on his phone that he never thought he would be looking up. In his sleep deprived state, he even made some online purchases, which, come the morning, was sure to question his retail choices.
That night Kurt's dreams were anything but virginal. He had returned to the bar where Blaine waiting for him, dressed in a perfectly tailored white suit. There was a pair or rabbit ears on his head and a pink tinge to his nose.
"Welcome back Kurt." Blaine hopped on top of the bar bench. Kurt stared down at what he was wearing, a light blue shirt and black and white striped pants. It was a horrendous homage to Alice in Wonderland. Even in his dreams he couldn't escape critiquing a terrible fashion choice.
"This is all because I mentioned falling down the rabbit hole, isn't it?" Kurt sighed. This was one of those dreams when he knew he was dreaming.
"Well, I would prefer it if you 'fell down' a certain other hole, but I'll take what I can get." Blaine the dashingly hansom white rabbit leapt from the bar and raced across the nightclub. The club seemed to wobble as if it was underwater. Kurt chased after him. He was heading towards the stripper poles. Blaine flung himself around one, winked and dropped down, where a hole appeared like a fireman's pole. Kurt stared down only to find darkness.
"I like cats." A familiar voice sung from the top of the pole. It was Brittany whose cat suit was a rainbow of candyfloss colours. She was spinning languidly around the pole as if she were made of clouds. "but being a cat is even better. Are you sure you want to go down into the basement?" Kurt felt that he had no time to answer that question. He needed to catch up to Blaine. He gripped the pole and dropped down into the darkness. He felt like he was falling, he was sure to wake up now and rid himself from this horrendously cliché wonderland dream before Santana showed up as the Red Queen.
Fortunately, his subconscious was kind to him that night. Kurt fell onto a bed. It was dark but he could tell he was not alone. He sat up, trying to decipher where he was, but all he could visualise was the checker patterned sheets he was sitting on. He felt the mattress dip as the body crawled towards him.
"So glad you decided to join me." Blaine purred in Kurt's ear. The voice sent a rush of heat down his chest. He felt Blaine brush a hand down his shoulders and his chest press against his back. Kurt angled his head sideways to allow the boy to suck against his pulse at his neck. He wanted to turn around and pounce on his white rabbit, to pull that perfect suit from his body and rut every inch of himself against him. Desire burned through Kurt but no amount of it was allowing him to move. His dream forced him to stay sitting, with Blaine slowly unbuttoning his hideous shirt from behind.
"Rip it off." Kurt demanded, feeling Blaine's warm hands over his chest. He melted back into the boy, hoping to feel something hard against the small of his back. Blaine thrust him tight against his body, giving Kurt the tease of cock beneath his suit pants. That was when Blaine's fingers rolled circled around Kurt's button nipples, groaning as they puckered under his touch. It was only once they had grown hard that he did what Kurt demanded of him and ripped that shirt from his ivory skin. Kurt scrambled to unbutton his pants, but in his dream, the desire to have them gone, was enough to make them disappear. He was naked, legs spayed, in the arms of a beautiful stranger, wanting nothing more than this man to fuck every inch of him. There was no hesitation in Kurt's thoughts, no nervousness, nothing shy in the way Kurt groaned and rolled his head back against Blaine's shoulder.
Blaine's lips brushed against Kurt's cheeks, down his neck and back again. Kurt wanted to press his lips to Blaine's, the feel that soft smile and suck his tongue in his mouth. But he never got the chance. Blaine's hand trace down over his hips bones and grasped Kurt's heavy cock. Kurt's eyes fluttered at the sensation of someone's hand wrapped around him, moving up and down. With the other hand, Blaine held him tight against him, breathing faster in his ear. His fingers dipped down deeper between Kurt's legs, running a teasing circle around his hole.
"Oh, Blaine, yes." Kurt's leg's spread instinctively and hips bucked on their own accord. "I want more." Kurt found himself muttering when he felt Blaine's fingers glide back up across his thighs. He returned his hand around Kurt, pumping gently, teasingly.
"You know where to find it." Blaine kissed his jawline, his warm breath ripped down Kurt's spine. Kurt wanted to pounce on him, kiss him, lick every inch of him but Blaine's grip was a vice, no matter how much Kurt whimpered and begged. Blaine quickened his pace with a twist of his wrist. Kurt groaned as he felt that climax building up, buzzing and clenching within. His breathing was so shallow now he felt dizzy within his own dream.
"Oh, Kurt." Blaine breathed and nipped his ear. It was the sound of Blaine's voice, that deep groan of his own name on someone else's lips. The rush of release pulled the energy from his body and he thrust his hips in a jolt of pleasurable shock.
Kurt gasped himself awake, feeling the end of his orgasm pulse through him. He looked down at himself and groaned at the mess. He hadn't done this since he was a teenager. His cock was still hard underneath his flannel pants, twitching as if demanding more attention. Kurt ignored it and flopped face first back into his pillows with a groan. He was not ready to confess to the myriad of desires his stupid dream was making him face.
