We forgot to mention in the that we post a chapter every Wednesday. If we have to skip a week, we will let everyone know. We appreciate the follows/favorites and the very nice review from Marciachapter2! Let us know what you think!

Warnings: crude language, mentions of smoking if that bothers you

Sunday morning

The glass door of the tattoo and piercing shop Kurt worked at closed on his last customer as he eyed the wall clock. It was getting closer and closer to 12:30 when he had agreed to meet with the sexy little producer guy. He leaned his chin in one hand while the other clicked against the glass case full of rings and studs available for people to purchase. Another new song was rattling around in his head and he couldn't wait to get back to his apartment to get it down on paper so he could get some peace. That's if his obnoxious roommate would leave him alone long enough to work.

"Lady Hummel! It's time. I'm gonna stick my needle in you today."

Speaking of his obnoxious roommate…

Kurt didn't move from where he was slouching over the counter except to turn his hand over and flip off the woman who had sidled up to him.

"You will not come near me with any needle, you crazy bitch."

Santana Lopez cackled and hoisted herself up onto the counter next to him causing a spinning display of earrings to sway. He grunted in annoyance and scooted over marginally.

"Come on. What I have in mind would go great your whole aesthetic you forgot to grow out of. My next appointment cancelled so I can do it this afternoon. What do you say?" She nudged him with an elbow which he ignored.

"No. You nearly ripped my earlobe in half when I let you pierce me. And you know I don't do tattoos."

Santana rolled her eyes and started messing with his hair before he tried to bite her hand with a growl. "Oh please. You're the idiot who decided to drink too much before getting it done. It's a miracle it looks as good as it does. Just admit it's because your daddy said not to."

"Pretty sure that's not your business," he snapped. "I just don't want a fucking tattoo. God, leave me alone."

"As your only friend," Santana replied, unfazed by his irritation. "I'm just trying to do something fun. Excuse me."

Kurt stood up and stretched. "We aren't friends. We are roommates and coworkers. Nothing more."

"Ouch. I'm wounded," she deadpanned. "Remind me of how we aren't friends when you are drinking yourself stupid again after a show and you can't find our apartment and oh my god, why do you keep looking at the clock? Am I boring you?"

Kurt's eyes left the clock he definitely was staring at and finally met her suspicious brown eyes. "Just counting the seconds until I can leave here and not hear your annoying voice anymore."

Santana raised an eyebrow and then flipped her long dark hair over her shoulder. "Spill, bitch or I will just keep my little friend here all to myself." She opened her flannel jacket and showed him a small bottle of Jack Daniels hidden in an inner pocket.

She closed her jacket quickly as their manager walked by and told her to get off the counter. She did, but not before yelling at him in Spanish. Kurt weighed his options.

He wouldn't say he was close to many people anymore, not even his own father, but that was a whole different conversation. He had his band mates, sure, but he wouldn't really consider them friends. They got together and made music, simple as that, and Kurt made sure it stayed uncomplicated. However, if he did have a best friend, Santana Lopez would be it.

They had lived together for awhile now, both serendipitously needing a new roommate at the same time, so it had worked out. They hadn't really been friends in high school. At first Santana had been one of the mean, popular girls, but changed when she joined Glee club. But then he changed and went his own way, so they never really got close. She was always one to stand up for him when she wasn't being completely awful and now that they were adults, she had matured quite a bit.

When she wasn't dragging him to the bathroom at their work to take shots, that is.

As she wiped her mouth and passed Kurt the bottle, he decided to tell her about his lunch meeting. By her reaction, he could decide if he was even going to go or not. He swallowed a shot of the whisky and felt the familiar burn down his throat. It warmed him and took the edge off of his inhibitions, perfect for when he was doing a show to kill any self-doubt.

"A producer or a scout or some shit came to On The Rocks Friday," Kurt said carefully as he thumbed the hard edge of the bottle. "He saw us play and offered us a contract. Thing is, I'm not sure if this is legit or if he just knows I'm hot and wants to fuck me." He grinned as he took another swig. "If it's real, it could mean a lot to me and the guys, but I don't know. Montgomery Records is legit. I looked them up. I might blow it off, but the guy is just so fuckable. I mean, I was pretty drunk by that point, but his ass Santana—"

She snatched the bottle from his hands and took a drink herself. "Bullshit."

"What? He was hot. Just because you're a lesbian doesn't mean men aren't attractive."

"No," she rolled her eyes and stowed the bottle back in her jacket pocket. "You just don't want to give up any control you have over your band. How many people have tried to sign you or get you in bigger shows? That's what I thought. You're just too scared it will fail."

Kurt wanted to be mad at her completely obliterating his bravado, but he just smiled and opened the stall door. "Damn your Mexican third eye."

She gave him a superior look and they walked out, startling a man who had just walked in. They smiled knowingly and Kurt threw his arm over her shoulders. He shot them a disapproving look. Once out of the bathroom, they burst into chuckles and went back up to the front counter where Kurt was stationed for at least another half an hour.

"Look Lady Lips, this is my advice. Meet with Mr. Yummy Ass. Hear him out. If you don't like the contract, just walk away and don't sign it. Or better yet, use his offer to leverage a better one from someone else." She tapped her temple and sauntered back to her side of the shop. "See you at home!"

Kurt shook his head at her. Maybe it was the liquid courage now burning in his veins, but he knew then that he would be meeting with the man.

"Another minute please. Sorry," Blaine told the server as she attempted to get his order for the third time. She shot him an annoyed look and left the table.

Blaine glanced around, hoping to catch sight of the slightly frightening lead singer he was determined to sign. Seeing only strangers, Blaine bounced his leg and tugged his blazer back into place before he straightened his already perfectly straight papers and tidied the already tidy table. He checked his watch. 12:39. He was almost ten minutes late. Or not coming at all.

No. Nope. He wasn't going to think negatively. Mr. Hummel was just running late. He would be insane to miss this opportunity. He would be here soon and Blaine would charm him into signing on and they would start working.

Blaine gulped at the thought of the man being right there in front of him. Mr. Hummel had indeed texted him Saturday afternoon telling him where to meet him today. He had also sent a few other suggestive texts, but Blaine had dutifully deleted them after politely reminding the man that he was eager to work with him. He took a few deep breaths and went over the plan again. The other night, he had just been thrown off his game. He had been prepared to find an amazing band and that's what he had done. The fact that their lead singer was gorgeous and oozed sex appeal was none of his concern.

"I don't want to get married at all. To you. I want to end it."

Blaine blinked away the sting of tears. God, he was not crying in a restaurant in public over his failure to keep a relationship. It wasn't even Sebastian anymore, just what he represented.

As Blaine got control of himself, the chair opposite him scraped back and Kurt Hummel plopped himself into it.

Apparently he always dressed as if he were ready to perform because today he had on a tight Nirvana shirt and a frayed denim vest that showed off dozens of colorful pins and patches all over and sunglasses.

He allowed his glasses to fall back into place where he had rubbed his eyes and tried not to stare at Mr. Hummel's very nice arms.

"Ah! Hello, Mr. Hummel!" He stood and reached over the table to shake the man's hand, but Kurt just grinned at him and popped his gum obnoxiously, keeping his arms folded over his chest.

"Enough of all the formal shit," Kurt said as leaned back in his chair. The wind swept his messy hair across his forehead since they were sitting on the patio of the little cafe. "Just call me Kurt. All I can think of is my dad when I hear Mr. Hummel and that kills the boner if you scream it out during sex."

Blaine withdrew his hand quickly and sat down. He had been caught off guard Friday night, but he was ready for this today.

"Sorry, Mr. Hummel. While I'm flattered, this is strictly business." He arranged himself on his chair and tried to appear calm, relaxed. "Shall we order first and then discuss the contract? Lunch is on me today." He signaled to the server that they were ready.

Kurt just stared him down for long enough that the server took their orders and Blaine began to squirm. But then a smile broke out again and Kurt blew a bubble before popping it.

"I like your tenacity Mr.…" He frowned and pulled Blaine's bent business card out of his vest pocket. "Ah. Blaine. Or Mr. Anderson if you're nasty."

"Thank you—" Blaine began, but was cut off by Kurt's hand.

"BUT, if you really are here for just business, I want to get to know you a little better."

Oh god. What could he tell this person that wouldn't make him laugh in his face or send him running in second hand embarrassment? Should he tell him about his bow tie collection? His obsession with Katy Perry? That he was exceptionally good at baking bread since he had plenty of practice time with his complete lack of a social life?

"What, uh… What do you want to know?" Blaine asked, trying not to show he was panicking.

"Like…" Mr. Hummel squinted at him. "You are gay, right? I didn't break my gaydar?"

Blaine let out the breath he was holding. This was an easy one. "Yes. Yes I am. Not that that's relevant, but if it makes you feel more comfortable…"

Kurt scowled at him. "I'm not gay."

Blaine's stomach turned. Oh. Oh no. He had misread everything! He wasn't ashamed of his sexuality or anything, but Wes would chew him out if a sexual harassment suit was brought against them.

"I… I…"

Kurt suddenly burst into laughter and it was a really nice laugh, even if it was at his expense. "I'm just fucking with you, Blaine. I'm queer as a three dollar bill as my dad likes to say." He wiped tears from his eyes after removing his sunglasses. He set the glasses down and leaned forward, chin in his hands. His blue eyes sparkled with mirth. "You literally met me after a dude blew me in the bathroom."

Blaine felt heat creep up his neck and into his ears. Maybe this was how he went: dying from embarrassment. He cleared his throat and tried to salvage the meeting that had somehow slipped from his control.

"As I was saying—"

"Did you not see my pins?" Kurt continued as if he hadn't tried to redirect them. He opened his arms and straightened his vest so Blaine could see all the colorful buttons.

"Those are… Um, very nice—"

Kurt rolled his eyes and pointed at a rainbow one that was in the shape of a skeleton hand sticking up its bony middle finger. Then another that said, 'dicks before chicks' next to a patch that said, 'My other ride is your dad.' Then he turned and showed him a rainbow Black power fist next to a small white button that said, 'Gay is good' in purple. It looked quite old. Under that was another pin that read, 'queers bash back' next to a little unicorn in the colors of the bisexual flag. Was Kurt bi? Blaine shook his head. Not the time. There were dozens of other buttons and pins and patches, some bands and other inappropriate things that looked like they had to do with gay rights. Blaine sat back in his chair as Kurt was trying to show him one that had a little pink triangle on it.

"Okay, okay! I get it! You're a walking gay rights sign!" Blaine lowered his voice and smiled at the server as she dropped off their drinks. She raised an eyebrow, but hurried away to another table.

With a wide grin, Kurt flopped back into his seat and popped his gum again. Blaine had to get this meeting back on track.

"Mr. Hummel. While those are… really something, I think we should discuss the contract. What are you doing?"

Kurt paused as he was upending a tiny bottle of vodka into his orange juice. "Screwdriver. Sorry, you want some? I don't think it will taste good in your coffee—"

Blaine shut his eyes and took off his glasses with a frustrated sigh. "I don't want your alcohol." He opened his eyes and saw Kurt staring at him curiously as he mixed his drink up with a straw. "I would very much like to discuss work. Please."

Taking a long sip of his drink, Kurt combed a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. It worked on him though. His smile slipped a little. "So, this really is a business meeting and not a proposition?"

"Yes," Blaine said, exasperated.

Kurt poked his lip out, but then shrugged and motioned to Blaine's neat papers and laptop. "Fine. Go ahead. Woo me."

Blaine relaxed a little at that, then launched into his sales pitch of numbers and figures, how much the band could make and everything he could think of to sell this deal to the man sitting opposite him.

To his credit, Kurt did listen quietly as he sipped his juice and ate his food the server brought him with only a few questions. As he wrapped up, Blaine pushed a stapled stack of papers across the table as their server took the empty dishes.

"Now, I don't want you to sign it today," Blaine said as Kurt eyed his hands. Blaine pulled them back self-consciously and rested them in his lap where they couldn't be inspected.

"You don't?" Kurt replied teasingly. "Let me guess, you just want another chance to see me?"

"No," Blaine said with a forced smile. "I want you to take this to your band's lawyer and discuss this with the others. Look it over carefully and make sure you agree to all the terms."

"And what will you do to me if I lose this?" Kurt asked, batting his eyes. "Will you have to punish me?"

"It's merely a copy. I have the original."

"Argh! You are no fun!" Kurt fell back in his seat. "What are you like not into sex or something?"

"As I was saying, take a few days to look this over and I'll be in contact to renegotiate if necessary. What?"

Kurt was tracing his lips with a finger thoughtfully in a very distracting way. "Do you smoke?" He asked finally.

Blaine sputtered. "Some- Sometimes. How did you…" He shook his head. "Not important, I think we should stay focused on—"

"You know how bad that is for you, right?" Kurt winked at him.

"Yes, I do. My mother is a nurse and would yell at me for hours if she knew." How had they gotten off track again? Kurt was an expert at deflection apparently. "Anyway, I don't do it all the time. Just when I feel super stressed out. Not that it's your business."

"So you did it this morning, right?"

Blaine gaped at him.

Kurt tapped his nose. "I used to smoke. I can smell it on you. You're a bit of a bad boy, aren't you Mr. Anderson? I know just how to handle bad boys." He licked his bottom lip suggestively, showing off a shiny tongue piercing.

"I don't date clients, Mr. Hummel," Blaine said stiffly.

"I wasn't exactly suggesting a date, was I?"

"I don't mean to offend you, but I really just want to work, please."

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Kurt asked.

"No," Blaine replied carefully.

"Then what's the issue?"

Ha. What wasn't the issue? Blaine only had to recall how awful he was at relationships, romantic or otherwise and he lost all embarrassment at Kurt's questions. Something dark must have shown on his face because Kurt's cocky smirk shrunk and he finally released Blaine from his intense eye contact.

"Fine. I'll stop. That's a shame though. We could have some fun." He replaced his sunglasses and folded his arms. "Okay. Give me one of those contracts and I will read it. Promise."

Blaine perked up immediately at that and eagerly gave him a copy. "So, if you have a bit more time, I'd love to hear more about your band."

Kurt was flipping through the papers aimlessly, seemingly bored now that sex was off the table. He let the papers flop back into place and tossed them aside. "What do you want to know? Started it after college with a few of my high school buddies and some new friends I met after college."

"You went to college?" Blaine asked. He didn't mean for it to sound the way it came out, but he winced when Kurt sneered at him.

"Yeah, I did. You aren't one of those people who thinks that just because I have some piercings means I've got a hole in my skull too? Because if you do, this won't work at all. I don't have time for judgmental assholes."

"No! No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound so…"

"Surprised?" Kurt mocked.

"Well, yes. I just didn't come across that fact when I was researching your band."

Kurt did that thing where he studied him like a science experiment for several agonizing seconds. Then, "You are really serious about this, aren't you?"

"Yes!" Blaine said, vexed. "What college did you attend?"

Kurt considered him. Something flickered across his face that Blaine hadn't seen on him yet. Was it embarrassment?

"NYADA," he finally answered softly. Fondly.

Blaine's eyes widened. "NYADA?"

Kurt nodded slowly and shook his empty glass of ice. He poked at some half melted cubes with his straw. "Graduated with a 4.0 and letters of recommendation out the ass too. I might be an asshole, but I'm an asshole with a brain."

"That's.. Wow. I'm impressed." Blaine wasn't trying to flatter him. He had considered the school himself, but didn't think he would qualify.

With a tight smile, Kurt thunked his glass down and looked away. "Fat lot of good it did me. Just gave me student loans and a useless piece of paper." He stared off into the distance for a moment and then something shifted. The cocky smirk was back on his face as he turned back to Blaine. "Anyway, in a few days, we have another gig. Playing a few songs at a bar to open for another band. You can come see us and we can tell you what we thought of your little contract. Sound good?"

Blaine couldn't suppress his smile as he reached over the table to shake hands with Kurt. He looked like he would rather not, but finally rolled his eyes and took Blaine's hand. A shiver started in Blaine's fingers and swept through him like a strong breeze. This was dangerous. He had to be on his guard with this man. Otherwise he would get himself hurt again.

Kurt replaced his sunglasses and shoved his hands into the pockets of his black jeans as he left Blaine at the cafe. Honestly, he wasn't sure how to feel. The contract burned where it was rolled up and stuck in his back pocket. So it was definitely real. As far as his band went, things were looking up.

On the downside, Blaine had told him no. Several times. It was like he was immune to his charms. That sucked. It's not like Kurt had to force men to be with him. He knew how attractive he was. And when he flirted with someone he knew was interested, they fell at his feet.

With the exception of Blaine Anderson. It was obvious from the way he stared at him hungrily that Blaine wanted him. However, he was giving off some weird signals and Kurt didn't know what to make of him.

He would talk with the band about the contract and make sure it was fair, but he would also devise a way to get into Blaine's pants. Kurt grinned as he made his way home, a plan already forming in his mind.

Monday

"So you are meeting with him later this week?" Wes asked Blaine the next afternoon when he was in his office.

"Yes," Blaine replied. "He seems a bit hesitant, but I think his band are on my side and will sway him. I worked really hard on the contract all day Saturday, so I know it's good."

"He's not lying," David said from his seat on the edge of Wes' desk. He was messing with a snow globe and generally messing up Wes' neat stacks of papers. "He emailed me no less than fifty times. "I've proofread that thing so much I can quote it. The contract's perfect."

Blaine grinned in slight embarrassment and scratched the back of his neck. David was a lawyer in the legal department and also Wes' close friend. A lot of the guys here had all gone to high school together and had been lured in by Wes to his family's company. Blaine himself had gone to Dalton, at least for a little while, but he sometimes felt like the others were closer than he was. Yet another thing in his life his father screwed up.

It was a great place to work, relaxed and friendly, but also very professional. Blaine enjoyed what he did and was pleased to share his news with his boss.

"Well, if you can get this I'm happy," Wes said as he rescued a delicate little Warbler figurine from David's clutches. "Just keep me updated on your progress."

Blaine nodded and grabbed his bag as he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. His heart leapt, hoping it was Kurt. He told himself he wasn't excited to hear from the singer, he just wanted to know if he was going to sign the contract. That's all.

Blaine took his leave as Wes was berating David for nearly sitting on his laptop when he nearly ran into a smartly dressed blond.

Jeff Sterling was Wes' assistant and always had been very sweet. Blaine genuinely liked the guy and knew if he was capable of making and keeping friends, the quiet man would definitely be one of them.

"Oh hey," Blaine smiled. "How are you?"

Jeff smiled back and hitched the files he had been carrying up higher in his arms. "I'm fine. How are you?"

"Good. Just headed back. Good to see you—"

Jeff stopped him before he could step towards the elevators. "Can I… Can I ask you something?" He was blushing like crazy and Blaine felt his stomach sink to his shoes. Oh god. Not again. Did his new cologne have pheromones in it or something? He was just going to wear a sign around his neck that said, 'NOT INTERESTED.'

"Uh, maybe I should just go… I'm not really looking for anything right now."

Jeff looked confused for a second and then laughed softly. "I was wanting to ask you about Nick. Duval? I think he works on your floor."

Blaine let out a relived sigh. He liked Jeff as a person, but he wasn't in the mood to reject anyone else. "Oh. Yes of course. Yeah, Nick works with me. He was asking me about you the other day."

Jeff's brown eyes lit up and his smile spread. "He was?"

"Yeah," Blaine said. "I'm pretty sure he likes you."

"He does? That's… Awesome." He was blushing again. "You really think so?"

Blaine grinned and nodded. "Oh yeah. I'll make sure he doesn't wimp out asking you on a date."

"Thanks, Blaine. You're the best!" He practically skipped away and Blaine smiled to himself as he stepped onto the elevator. He might be luckless at romance, but he enjoyed helping others find it. He pulled out his phone to text Nick. He would tell him to ask out Jeff and put the poor guy out of his misery, but he froze.

The text was from Sebastian. Dread flooded Blaine's body and he tapped on the message.

Hey, sorry to bother you, but I think I left my passport in the file cabinet. It would be a big help if you could mail it to me. I need it for a work thing. - Sebastian

Blaine calmed down as he read the text. While he was slightly annoyed at the hassle, at least it wasn't something mean. Sebastian had apologized several times and was asking very politely. Blaine sighed and texted him back saying he would look. He found it funny that Sebastian complained he treated him like a child and then he had to do things like this for him even though they weren't together. Typical.

He finally made it to his office and decided to answer some emails when another text came in.

"What did he forget his birth certificate too?" Blaine grumbled. He was slightly shocked to see the text was from Kurt. Hoping he had decided to accept their deal, Blaine quickly opened the text.

Roses are red… -Kurt

Blaine raised an eyebrow and texted Kurt back.

Yes… -Blaine

Violets are fine… -Kurt

He had texted back immediately. Blaine sighed. This was definitely a pickup line of some sort and not a professional 'We are signing with you!' text. He decided to play along.

Sure. You know what else is fine? Our royalties clause! You should check that out! -Blaine

He chuckled to himself at his own cleverness and got back to his laptop. Several minutes went by and although he would never admit it, he kept glancing over to his phone to see if Kurt had answered him yet. After ten minutes, Blaine started to worry that he had offended his potential client and ruined his chances when his phone buzzed. He snatched it up and immediately opened the text.

You be the 6 and I'll be the 9 -Kurt

The text surprised a laugh out of him even though it was crude. Kurt followed it up with a winking emoji that Blaine ignored. He shook his head and debated with himself for a few minutes before playing along.

Knock, knock… -Blaine

Who's there? (Be warned I answer the door naked) -Kurt

Cash -Blaine

Cash who? -Kurt

No thanks, I like almonds better -Blaine

Blaine giggled to himself at his joke and the awkward smile emoji he used after it. He could just imagine Kurt rolling his eyes at his silly joke. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long for a reply.

Wow. Did a third grader teach you that joke? -Kurt

Don't be mad because my joke was better -Blaine

Ha. Sure. But seriously, what are you doing? You aren't being naughty again and smoking are you? I have something better for you to suck on… -Kurt

He followed up the text with some imaginative and inappropriate emojis that left Blaine squirming. When would he give up? He was kicking himself for admitting his nasty habit to Kurt.

How thoughtful. But I would like to remind you once again, that I can't be involved with my clients. I would be happy to discuss your contract though! -Blaine

Ugh. Fine. At least tell me what you're wearing? Help a poor boy out -Kurt

Mr. Hummel… -Blaine

Listen, if I'm a pain in your ass we can just add more lubricant babe. -Kurt

Blaine laughed again and glanced up, catching a glimpse of his reflection in his laptop screen that had gone dark. He was grinning widely, clutching his phone like a lifeline and he looked… Happy? Amused? Entertained?

Except this was a client and he wasn't relationship material. The thought sobered him immediately. He reminded himself that he had a job to do and he couldn't afford to get carried away and lose this opportunity. He was focusing on his career. As fun as it was to banter with Kurt, this wasn't healthy.

He took a deep breath, sent off his last text, and put his phone on silent so he wouldn't be tempted.

Good evening, Mr. Hummel. I'll see you Thursday. -Blaine

It had to be this way. Of that he was certain.

Thoughts? Feelings? See y'all next Wednesday!