The Storm

Chapter Seven

By Gayforkurt

Summary: David Karofsky, a billionaire who collects beautiful things and people, kidnaps famous countertenor Kurt Hummel perform – and suffers for it. NB: Rated M for dubious consent, some bitchiness and sex.

A/N: Thanks, guys, for your continued support and input. Some of your thoughts about where this is heading is really interesting and inspiring. Keep those reviews coming!

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters; Murphy et al do, unfortunately. I'm just playing with them and plan to return them unharmed.

KHDK

Dave couldn't believe what was happening; the feel of Kurt in his arms far exceeded all his fevered fantasies.

Kurt moaned as he felt Karofsky's large hands slip down to his ass, grasping and kneading the muscular globes. He sucked on Karofsky's tongue, making him shudder and groan desperately.

"Kurt, oh god, Kurt, please…!" Karofsky's heated breath washed over the side of Kurt's neck as he pulled away to pant, his chest heaving against Kurt's like a bellows. Kurt lifted one slender leg to wrap around Karofsky's lunging hips and almost laughed as the man moaned again. Really, the big lummox was so easy to manipulate, Kurt smirked even as he answered him with an almost fake breathy moan.

The two had fallen onto the huge bed with Kurt writhing beneath Karofsky's furnace-hot body. The desperate kisses the man had planted on Kurt had escalated to similarly desperate dry-humping that Kurt was actually beginning to enjoy. There's a lot to be said for friction, he thought cynically. Deciding to up the game, Kurt slipped one delicate hand between their bodies and palmed the bulge in Karofsky's jeans roughly.

David cried out as Kurt's small hand grasped his cock through his pants and squeezed it. He shifted his larger body to the side so he was more on the bed than on Kurt, and slid one arm under the back of the singer's head. He leaned down to continue devouring Kurt's sweet lips but fumbled with his right hand at the waist of Kurt's cut-offs. Yanking open the button, the zipper slid down by itself and Dave's heart almost stuttered when he realized Kurt was bare underneath. His hand slid over taut, hot, silky flesh and he moaned deep within his throat.

Kurt's hips lunged up even as his own hand slid into Karofsky's jeans and boxers to grab hold of the man's huge prick. He hummed in rising pleasure as he proceeded to jack him, loving the increasing slickness that made his job easier.

Dave was moaning almost continuously now, his breath coming in erratic bursts as he nuzzled Kurt's jawline and nibbled on an earlobe. Kurt's cock wasn't as big as his but it was still a nice handful and Dave loved the feel of it, hot and sleek, as he tugged on it.

"God, you're so beautiful… I need you so much… uh, Kurt!" Dave was teetering at the edge, Kurt's answering cries the sexiest thing he'd ever heard. "Oh, shit, uh_ uh_ oh, God!"

The two men writhed and kissed and moaned their way to shuddering climaxes and Dave knew he would never forget the sight, sound or smell of Kurt falling apart in his arms, his prick jerking and spitting in Dave's hand. Even if they never did this again, Dave would always remember the feel of Kurt's slender, lightly-muscled body tensing and arching as he came, soft, surprisingly deep grunts falling from his puffy, reddened lips.

Dave finally rolled off the smaller man onto his back, removing his arm from beneath Kurt's head as he did so. Kurt, flat on his back and panting, stared at the slowly spinning ceiling fan, making no move to wipe the cooling semen from his body. He turned his head slightly to watch Dave who lay with his eyes closed, his chest still heaving as they recovered from that short, but passionate interlude.

After minutes had passed without either man breaking the silence, Kurt got off the bed and moved around it to head into the bathroom. As he stepped into the room, he turned the shower on, using a hand to test the water temperature and then proceeded to undress, heedless of the fact that Dave, lying where he was on the bed, could see him through the open door.

Kurt hauled off his top, threw it towards the clothes hamper and then shucked his jeans shorts. He stepped out of them but left them where they fell. Turning to retrieve a towel from the linen closet, he pretended to just catch sight of Karofsky who was staring, entranced, at his naked form, and smiled invitingly… just before slamming the door shut.

Kurt knew he was being a bitch, but he felt as if Karofsky had it coming to him. No one got away with treating Kurt Hummel as if he were some little rent boy, one to whom the lure of a nice paycheck at the end of the night was enough enticement.

Dave flinched as the door slammed almost in his face. He had turned his head when he heard the shower go on and it had not occurred to him that he was staring when Kurt had begun to undress. His breath had caught in his throat at the sight of all that perfect, creamy skin and well-toned muscles, the most beautiful of which was Kurt's pert backside. Dave berated himself for the pathetic, pervy picture he must have made and, flushing with embarrassment, quickly rose from the bed and left the room.

The morning, with its promise of clearer skies and Kurt's imminent departure, couldn't come soon enough for Dave. His heart fell as he realized that what had just happened between them probably counted for less than nothing to Kurt; even as his orgasm claimed him, Kurt's feelings had remained closed off from him. Dave realized he had been hoping this unexpected episode would have watered-down the singer's anger, but that hope was futile. Kurt had simply lain back on the bed, appearing almost unmoved by what had just occurred.

Dave stormed towards his suite, anxious now for his own shower to rid himself of even the smell of the younger man. God only knew how he was going to face Kurt at dinner. He resolved to say as little as possible to him and hoped that Puck's presence would be more successful as a distraction than it had been earlier. A slight frown marred his usually impassive face as he remembered the slightly flirty look Kurt had given his driver, just before the man had fled the room. Dave realized that he would have to be on his guard so that Kurt didn't cause a problem for his employee. Puck was a good worker, almost a friend, and he would hate to have his own stupid decision turn around and bite him in the butt where Puck was concerned.

Stepping under the scalding hot shower, Dave closed his eyes as the water cascaded over him. He needed the hours until dinnertime to rebuild his armor. He had a sneaking suspicion that, if Kurt got even the smallest chance, he could very well shatter that armor – and his heart along with it.

KHDK

Kurt ran slender fingers covered with just a hint of product through his hair as he styled it. He tweaked a couple of locks to fall forward a bit, stepped back from the mirror and nodded, pleased with the way he looked. He had on just the barest amount of foundation on his face and neck and one coating of mascara for his already dark lashes. He had skipped the use of lip gloss but conceded to a smear of tinted lip balm. Couldn't have chapped lips now, could he, he smirked at himself.

It was time for another encounter with Mr. David 'Billionaire' Karofsky, and Kurt felt like rubbing his magnificence in his face tonight. His eyes ran over the gorgeous cropped turquoise and green Versace top from the designer's latest H&M collection; the abstract design on the sheer material always drew attention. The rich colors did amazing things for his skin tone and his eyes, making the green in them more pronounced. Additionally, the wide neckline drew attention to Kurt's beautiful neck and collar bones and the long, fitted sleeves showed his toned arms to their best. Best of all, because of the sheerness of the delicate material, Kurt's pink nipples could be glimpsed in certain lights.

He paired the striking top with sleek, gleaming white low-rise stretch jeans with small pockets so high on the backside that no one could stop from staring at the ass enclosed within. Kurt turned so that he could survey the fit of the pants and declared himself satisfied. David Karofsky, he sneered, eat your heart out.

Striding from the closet with a pair of blue slip-ons in his hands, he sat on the bed to await the dinner hour. Petal had come by his room earlier to let him know dinner was traditionally served around 6 o'clock in the summer but that he could arrive earlier if he wished. There weren't strict protocols when Mr. David didn't have a house party going on so Mr. Kurt was free to do whatever he wished until dinner was served, she said. He smiled to himself as he recalled the relaxed little chat they had then fallen into.

They had talked for a while, Kurt pumping the friendly young islander about the property, the region, what her people were called, stuff of that nature. He tried to slip in more probing questions in a sneaky manner, hoping she wouldn't catch on. He discovered, for example, that Karofsky housed on the leeward side of the island an airplane hangar and the cove nearby often provided safe harbor for his massive seagoing yacht.

David Karofsky was apparently a bit of an adventurer, amongst other things, and Petal gushed over the number of 'big boy's toys' that her employer made use of on a regular basis when he came to the island. He also loved scuba diving, para-gliding and deep sea fishing. He sometimes indulged with his business partners but more often he enjoyed these activities with a few close friends. Oddly enough, he seemed to always have the man everybody called Puck with him most of the time.

"Mr. David and Puck get along really well, y'know," Petal smiled as she gazed at Kurt, taking in the inquisitive glint in the young man's strangely colored eyes. They were really pretty and she wanted to ask him what color they were but she didn't want to seem too forward. "I think they knew each other from when they were in high school."

Kurt just hummed to himself and nodded, indicating she should continue with her disclosures. She came and sat on the bed near him and Kurt moved over to give her room. He enjoyed her calm, laid back demeanor very much; it was such a great contrast to the tension ripping the atmosphere apart whenever he was with Karofsky. He curled onto his side on top of the cool bedspread as he listened to her nattering on in her lilting island accent and, before he knew it, he'd dozed off. The last thing he could remember hearing her say was something about Mr. David behaving oddly "this time".

Petal glanced down at the napping boy – no, he was a man, he just looked really young, and deceptively delicate. She slid gently off the bed so as not to disturb his sleep and brought over the beautiful shawl that had graced the back of the room's single armchair. She draped it over his sleeping form and stood gazing down at him. He's so pretty, she mused, daring to brush a strand of hair from his forehead as she settled the shawl up to his shoulder. No wonder Mr. David was so infatuated. She sighed a little sadly, for she had the strong impression that Mr. Kurt did not return her boss's feelings – no, not at all.

Letting herself out of the room, she pulled up the door gently behind her and headed back to the kitchen where her mother, Mama Afflick, no doubt had a ton of stuff for her to get through before dinner could be served. The menu tonight was one of Mr. David's favorites and she hoped Mr. Kurt would enjoy it, too. As she thought of the upcoming dinner, she remembered a phrase she'd seen sometimes and stifled a giggle as she thought about it: Man, I wish I could be a fly on that wall!

KHDK

Dave gripped the cut-glass tumbler as he forced himself to sip the drink he'd just fixed. He and Puck had been awaiting Kurt's arrival, batting little conversational nuggets back and forth between them, neither of them really paying attention. He sensed that Puck, too, was watching the door almost as tensely as he was but he wasn't really certain. He took a fortifying sip of the cool liquor and glanced at his watch for about the fiftieth time. It was only five minutes until the hour but it still felt as if 6 o'clock was taking forever to arrive.

His mind went inevitably back to what he and Kurt had done and his stomach clenched again around the butterflies already there. The feel and taste of the younger man as he shuddered beneath him was tormenting him, and he almost – almost – regretted what they had done. He turned to look out at the breathtaking view. The storm had, indeed, abated, but the dark, lingering clouds gave the gold-streaked azure sky a dramatic effect. It was really beautiful here and he heaved a sad sigh as he thought how much he wished Kurt could have forgiven him and enjoyed his much-needed vacation here with him.

Just as he'd taken another sip, the doors to the dining room opened abruptly and Kurt stepped in. Dave managed not to make a spectacle of himself as the sip he'd just taken almost went down the wrong way. Really, he instantly forgave himself, one couldn't be blamed for inhaling wrong when in the presence of divinity. He and Puck stared stupidly at Kurt as the singer glided into the room, head held high, aquamarine eyes glowing as he surveyed the two men.

Dave and Puck's eyes devoured Kurt as he paused in the doorway, their eyes darting up and down the glorious body so teasingly revealed yet wrapped up in Kurt's seemingly untouchable attitude. Dave's eyes lingered on the flat tummy and tantalizing hipbones that were displayed by the low rise of Kurt's white jeans.

"Good evening." There was a faint gleam of scornful humor in Kurt's eyes as he waited for the other two to respond. They stuttered out a jumbled response and he held back a grin. He turned his mesmerizing gaze to Puck who was very attractive in black, the loose shirt sporting really lovely black silk embroidery and a Nehru collar. The tanned and muscular ex-military man, for Kurt had no doubt that he had been in the army just from his bearing alone, smiled back appreciatively at him. Before he could advance on Kurt, however, Dave had pushed himself forward and asked Kurt what he would like to drink before dinner.

Kurt's eyes grew slightly cool and he raised one elegant eyebrow as he gazed up at Karofsky's impassive face. "Tell me, what goes best with eggs?" He enjoyed the faintly puzzled look that flashed in the green-gold eyes before it was replaced with a look of comprehension.

Dave, though he didn't move a step, somehow withdrew from Kurt, feeling as if the smaller man had slapped him in the face. He knew his face was heating up but he kept all feelings from showing as he smiled tightly.

"I'm sorry about earlier." His gaze fell briefly then returned to Kurt's face, studying every plane and angle, knowing he'd have to store these moments away safely. "Mama Afflick is serving her famous island chicken tonight. It's a favorite of mine and I hope you'll enjoy it. So, what will you have to drink, first?"

Kurt, to his own surprise, relented and decided to let Karofsky off the hook – at least for the time being. He didn't see why they couldn't have a nice dinner as it would be his last night here and, hopefully, the last time he'd ever have to see his abductor. He turned with an inviting smile towards Puck and tilted his head inquiringly.

"What are you having, Noah, is it? Your drink looks interesting…" he glanced at the glass of slightly fizzy, pale coral-colored liquid Puck was holding loosely in his hand. As he waited for Puckerman to answer, he gave his shoulder to Karofsky and sauntered over to the other man. He lifted the hand holding the glass, plucked it from his grasp and, staring deeply into the tanned man's dark grey eyes, took a small, slow sip.

"Mmmm, I like! What is it?" He stared up at Puckerman, enjoying the way the man's pupils dilated. He ignored the faint sound from Karofsky, not caring at all how he must be suffering, watching them together, and flicked the tip of his pink tongue along his upper lip as if to get at the very last flavor of the delicious beverage.

Puck cleared his throat and answered Kurt, taking in the way his fascinating eyes danced as they gazed up at him. Shit, there was no way Kurt couldn't tell Puck was getting turned on. "Uh, it's just a little concoction I threw together. Passion fruit and ginger ale."

Kurt handed back the glass slowly, making sure his fingers caressed Puckerman's and turned towards Karofsky, a cool haughty eyebrow raised as if to ask: Well, what are you waiting for?

Dave's jaw clenched as he moved towards the overstocked drinks trolley beside the entertainment center. As he passed, he turned up the music slightly, and then continued on to fix Kurt's drink of passion fruit juice and ginger ale over crushed ice. When he turned back, Kurt was seated near the wall of glass, staring out at the sun that was just sinking into the sea, the night falling abruptly as it usually did in the tropics.

Kurt could see Karofsky's reflection in the glass as he approached with Kurt's drink and just as the man was about to speak, he turned and held up a slender hand. Grasping the glass, he brought it to his lips before smiling and murmuring a rather demure 'thank you', making Dave's head spin at Kurt's rapid changes in demeanor.

Dave had never felt as unbalanced around anyone as he did with Kurt. The diva was in turn fiery, bitchy, cold, friendly, temperamental, seductive and gracious. Dave could never be sure from one moment to the next which Kurt would make an appearance. On the one hand it was extremely fascinating – one would never be bored around Kurt Hummel. On the other hand, though, in just the last 24 hours or so, Dave had been through a whole range of emotions. It was exhausting, to say the least.

He nodded in response to Kurt and moved to head back over to the CD tower, already contemplating what music he thought Kurt would like to listen to during dinner. As he was sorting through the selection, he was surprised to feel someone come up behind him.

Thinking it was Puck, he glanced over his shoulder with a smile but when his eyes collided with Kurt's he almost dropped the CD case that he held in his hand. He tensed but Kurt only smiled and asked, "What are we listening to? I don't think I recognize it."

Dave turned back, took a quick breath to collect himself, and answered as nonchalantly as he could. "No, it hasn't been released yet. I like to support the locals as much as possible and this is by one of the guys I met here years ago."

He showed Kurt the cover of the CD case and almost gasped as Kurt's fingers brushed his. Kurt just glanced at the case, flipping it over to read the album notes on the back.

"I really like it; it's kind of a fusion of jazz and island music, isn't it? A touch of reggae, maybe?" Kurt looked back up at Karofsky to find the man staring intensely down at him. A faint wash of color touched Kurt's smooth cheeks and he felt like he could kick himself. He hated that Karofsky made him feel everything so intensely and a part of him wanted to lash out at his kidnapper – a man who had the audacity to impose himself on Kurt but who, it seemed, wasn't such a monster after all.

Kurt turned away abruptly, still holding the empty album case, to try and compose himself and get back to that icy, furious state that would allow him to continue tormenting Karofsky. He wasn't naturally a vindictive person but this man had frightened him so badly and made him feel so very helpless and vulnerable that he just wanted to lash out at him and hurt him just as badly.

Dave watched Kurt, puzzled as to the odd vibes he was picking up from the smaller man. "Yes, Maurice is really talented and I wanted to give him a start. I love music but I'm no composer."

His mask firmly back in place, Kurt turned to Dave and smiled coolly. "Well, let it play during dinner. I really like it."

Recognizing it as a command, Dave simply nodded, putting down the case and returned to his now-warm drink. He grimaced at the taste of the tepid liquid but had no time to refresh it as Lydia, his housekeeper who was forever stern-faced, entered the dining room with the servers, bringing in the first course of their dinner.

After the young men laid out their soup – salad in Kurt's case – Karofsky dismissed them with a "thank you, Lydia", and enjoined the other two men to dig in. Puck needed no second bidding, devouring the delicious cream of pumpkin soup with relish. Kurt, however, seated this time to Karofsky's right, raised a well-groomed eyebrow and glanced at his salad.

Dave understood and hurried to explain. "You didn't seem to enjoy the cucumber soup earlier so I tried to play it safe and switch you to a salad. I hope that's okay?" Damnit, he hated to sound so tentative, especially at his own damn table! Kurt, unfortunately, seemed to always upset his equilibrium and he waited tensely for the beautiful singer to respond.

Kurt, seeing the way Karofsky had tensed, decided to switch it up again. After a second of two of the cold stare, he let his eyes soften a bit and then he murmured, surprisingly pleasantly: "Next time, ask me what I would like."

Karofsky, the fool, nodded rapidly before it registered fully what Kurt had said. Next time, what next time? Kurt almost giggled as he watched the man struggle to not say anything. He flicked his eyes over to Puckerman who, halfway through the delicious soup, had stopped to watch the interaction between the two men. Kurt pulled his plump lower lip between his teeth and smiled ever so slightly, knowing that it would allow his dimples to pop. He was immensely pleased to see the color rise in the darker man's cheeks. Hah, these two idiots were so easy, Kurt congratulated himself, before turning back to his quite appetizing-looking salad.

Throughout the dinner, as the night drew in, the lights of the dining room seemed to glow more warmly and the sound of the soothing, lilting guitar music proved to be the perfect complement, only adding to the seductive ambiance. Mama Afflick had served up her wonderfully spicy version of island chicken and provided as a side an absolutely mouthwatering dish Karofsky told him was called 'rice and peas', the peas actually being red kidney beans cooked in coconut milk.

The men could barely hold back the undignified moans of pleasure as they devoured the food, spicy as it was. Kurt was not as used to the peppery flavor of the chicken as the others but he loved it, though it had enough heat to bring up a slight flush to his face. He had no idea what a fascinating picture he made as the color only served to complement the turquoise top he was wearing and his jewel-bright eyes.

Dave and Puck, while bantering back and forth on all sorts of topics, took the opportunity to sneak quick glances at the mostly silent Kurt throughout the meal. The only time the singer spoke up was to ask about the ingredients in the dishes they were almost inhaling they were so delicious. Finally, the meal ended with scoops of a delicious peach and passion fruit sorbet served in beautiful cut-glass crystal bowls.

Kurt hummed his appreciation for the cooling, sweet, creamy taste of the dessert. He wasn't oblivious to the stares of his dinner companions and put on a little show for them as he dragged the dessert spoon slowly from his mouth. "Mmmm, this is so-o-o good." He punctuated the statement with a delicate little lick to the spoon before smirking at his companions.

"What, aren't you going to eat yours?" Though the question was directed to both men, he chose to stare flirtatiously at Puckerman, and he was rewarded. The tanned man flushed and ducked his head, taking up his spoon and digging in. Karofsky, for his part, only clenched his spoon convulsively, a tight look appearing in his eyes as Kurt spared him a glance.

Their eyes held and they stared at each other – neither willing to look away. Startled, however, by the sound of Puckerman's spoon clinking against the crystal bowl, Kurt took the opportunity to wrench his gaze from Karofsky's. Dave cleared his throat and then dug into the softening sorbet.

Puck watched the two men surreptitiously as he ate, wondering at the tension that he could swear was weirdly sexual. Wait, did something happen earlier? He thought back to Dave's demeanor when he'd met with him for their daily confab in his office. The man had seemed oddly distracted, often gazing off even in the middle of a sentence. He knew it probably had something to do with their 'guest' but he put it down to just him regretting the stupid plan. Still, the way the diva was behaving and the faintly disturbed air surrounding his boss, made him wonder at what had gone down when he'd been away from the house.

He'd gone over to the leeward side of the island to check on the plane and the yacht when the storm had eased up. He took great pride in being in charge of Dave's fleet of vehicles and it was his job to fly Hummel back to the mainland to continue his aborted vacation. Puck was, in a way, looking forward to spending some one-on-one time during the flight with the beautiful singer, but he held out no hope that anything could develop between them. They moved in different worlds and, besides his own attraction, he knew Dave was in love with Hummel.

As he watched the two square off silently, he acknowledged that his boss's previous obsession had transformed into love. He scoffed to himself: I bet he doesn't even realize how far gone he is. He dropped his spoon into the bowl and watched as the sudden sound broke the staring match going on at the head of the table.

Not two minutes after they'd finished eating, the servers came in to clear up. Karofsky told Lydia to thank Mama Afflick for them for the delicious meal and the woman smiled. The smile was so full of affection that Kurt had to hide his surprise. She had seemed such an aloof individual; though Kurt knew nothing about her, he'd jumped to that conclusion just from her brief interactions with him. Watching her now, he suddenly realized that Karofsky's staff seemed to genuinely like him. Petal had said that, of course, but she was such a bubbly individual, Kurt had simply been inclined to dismiss her opinions.

Now, though, as he rose from the table to go over to the glass wall, a niggling doubt was worrying at a corner of his mind. He had never been one to second-guess himself (headstrong, his father had often called him) but he had to admit that, apart from that very first meeting between him and Karofsky, the man had not treated him shabbily.

Uh, Kurt shook off his brooding, gazing up at the few stars that were peeking out between the dwindling storm clouds. He vaguely heard Lydia telling Karofsky that he had had a call on the satellite radio and that he had been requested to return it as soon as possible. Kurt glanced over his shoulder when he realized Karofsky was excusing himself to make the call and, as he left the room, Kurt looked over invitingly at Puckerman, a little smile playing across his fair-skinned face.

"Do you know anything about stars, Noah?" Kurt's light voice tugged at Puck and he found himself moving up behind the slender man staring up through the glass at the night sky. Puck was so close he could smell Kurt's body wash (or was it shampoo) and feel the warmth of the tempting body against his front.

Puckerman wasn't much more than a couple of inches taller than Kurt, just the right height for the diva to lean back slightly with the back of his head resting on the other man's shoulder.

Puck leaned down a bit, ostensibly to point out a couple of stars to Kurt, and used the opportunity to move in closer, the front of his jeans brushing lightly against Kurt's ass. He murmured his directions of where to look directly into Kurt's ear, his lips almost touching the organ and, rather than gaze up at the sky, he kept his gaze on Kurt's face.

Kurt pretended to look where Puckerman pointed, but he also leaned back into the man's body, relishing the evidence of the bigger man's arousal and feeling himself heat up, too. Really, the guy was hot and Kurt would have to be blind not to see how much Puckerman was into him.

The two stood there in their fake stargazing stance, completely unaware that a moment before, Dave had rejoined them. One of Puckerman's hands was splayed on one of Kurt's bared hips as he repositioned the singer, presumably to point out more stars, and Kurt giggled softly, telling him his hand was cold and that it tickled.

Dave stood for a moment, taking in the intimate scene, and felt as if all the blood had left his body. Pain choked his breath as he watched the men and heard them whispering and laughing together. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the way the tanned skin of Puck's hand looked against Kurt's fair flesh.

He turned away, pulling the door shut softly so as not to disturb them, and stumbled towards his own suite. He had stopped by Kurt's room earlier, thinking he had gone there and then he'd realized the music was still playing in the dining/family room. The last thing he had expected to see was the man he loved so desperately standing comfortably in another man's arms.

Dave made it to his room, determined not to give into the anguish that was ripping him apart. He walked over to the bedroom window and gazed out at the same stars Puck and Kurt were whispering about. Please, he whispered, please. He didn't know for what or to whom he pleaded; he only knew he couldn't stand the pain for much longer.

Please!

TBC