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Beta-readers: lyingxiscariot (FFnet), FangirlingFanatic (FFnet), and stulti.
Summary: Blaine Anderson is a prostitute whose client is murdered before his eyes. He is thrown into witness protection together with Special Agent Kurt Hummel, whose job is to keep him safe. But, with nosy neighbours and a notorious crime family snapping at their heels, it's not that easy. Especially when feelings get involved.
Warnings: Dub/con, alcohol use, minor OMC death, mention of child abuse, mention of domestic violence, mention of various kinks
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, Sugar/Artie, Quinn/Puck, Cooper/OFC
Length: 65k; 16 parts altogether
Updates: Weekly on Sundays or Mondays
CHAPTER IV: OF HUSBANDS AND NEIGHBOURS I
Something startled him. Blaine wasn't sure what it was, a loud noise perhaps. He jumped from the couch and felt some soft material falling off him. He looked down to see a blanket at his feet. It was too light in the room. A glance at the window told him it was morning already.
"Sorry, dropped the spoon," he heard Kurt's voice and saw him in the kitchen. "I was about to have cereal for breakfast. You want some?"
"Yeah," Blaine responded groggily, and cleared his throat. "I'll just use the bathroom real quick."
"No rush," Kurt assured him, and went back to whatever he was doing.
Blaine's muscles were stiff from lying in a single position through the night, and it didn't help that stretching caused more pain as the bruises on his back were pulled. On his way upstairs, Blaine didn't miss Kurt's blush as the man turned away from him as quickly as he could. He had no idea what it was about until he saw his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Of course he had a morning erection, and of course he had to be too sleepy to notice it. No wonder Kurt looked uncomfortable.
After he was done taking care of his body's needs and brushing his teeth, he stood in front of the mirror and looked at himself intently.
"Everything is going to be fine," he whispered to himself. "You are in good hands; Kurt is nice. Being scared won't change anything. Have courage. Everything will be okay. You will be okay."
He wasn't completely satisfied with the pep talk, but he didn't have time for a more elaborate one. He didn't want Kurt coming to check up on him, so he put some clothes on and went to the kitchen, this time all decent.
"There is only one brand of cereal here; we can buy something else later," Kurt said as soon as he walked in, and pushed the box and the milk container toward him.
"I don't exactly have much cash on me," Blaine said, ignoring the food. "Unless you are okay with me working nights. Some clients might be turned on by you supervising me," he smirked, curious to see Kurt's reaction.
"Clients… you mean, like… um, no, it won't be necessary," Kurt swallowed thickly and forced a smile. "We are taking care of the witnesses in many ways. Sometimes it is not possible for them to contribute financially and that's okay. There is a special fund for that."
"If only tax payers knew that their money was being wasted to protect a whore," Blaine laughed, trying to conceal his relief. He knew he wouldn't have lots of time off, but knowing that he wouldn't have to worry about food or rent until his back healed was some really good news. When his body was presentable enough, he could think of a way to work around Kurt so he could go and earn his keep.
"Your profession doesn't matter. The money is spent fighting the Chang family. It's worth the price. And if it includes protecting a person who happens to sell sex? So be it."
"You have to admit, not many people would be happy with that explanation."
"Then it's good that we don't owe them an explanation," Kurt smiled. "Go on, have some breakfast and then we can have the talk."
"What if I did something else? Instead of fucking. Brian Thompson must have a better background than me," Blaine said, preparing breakfast for himself. "Maybe I could find a job waiting tables or something like that?"
"With your husband staying with you the entire shift? Not suspicious at all."
"It could be something else. I just want to contribute," Blaine said, and it was truth. He didn't want to spend someone else's money so he could live a comfortable life.
"Hm, maybe we can think of something later. But let's not rush into things, okay?"
"Okay," Blaine said, standing with a bowl of cereal. "Thanks for last night. The ointment and the blanket and stuff."
"No problem. You fell asleep and I didn't want to wake you up, but couldn't leave you there in your undies only. Did you sleep well?"
"I did," Blaine said. Surprisingly, he had had no nightmares and felt rested. "You?"
"Couldn't fall asleep after I ran into you. Don't apologise," he said when he saw Blaine opening his mouth. "I went through our back story again and improved it. I didn't have much time to prepare it yesterday, but now it's much better."
"Still sorry for waking you up."
"Your unnecessary apology is accepted," Kurt smiled at him. "I'll go get the folders and I'll meet you in the living room when you are finished, alright?"
Blaine only nodded, as his mouth was full.
Five minutes later, he found himself in the living room, folding the blanket, when Kurt walked in with two folders in his hands. He put one on the table and handed the other to Blaine. They settled comfortably ready to talk.
"Shall we begin?" Kurt asked. Blaine nodded. "Okay. So, there are two types of witness protection – short-term and long-term. Short-term requires a twenty-four/seven bodyguard, usually takes up to a week, and the witness can't leave the premises. It's a less complicated version, usually chosen when a trial is very soon.
"Now, the long-term protection can take months, sometimes years in complicated cases. The witness is moved away from the immediate threat, sometimes even abroad. They are given a new identity and, you could say, start a temporary life, waiting until it's safe to go back home."
"I'm guessing this is a long-term thing? You said something about six months?" Blaine asked, flipping through the pages, not really reading anything.
"I'm afraid so. The Changs have been on our radar for several years now, but it's been difficult to prove anything, even though at times it seemed there was no way out for them. At least that's how I was briefed. However, this time everyone is hopeful that justice will soon be served, so I wouldn't be worried about staying here for too long."
"Easy for you to say…"
"To tell you the truth, I don't like monotony, so I wouldn't want to stay working on one case for five years," Kurt admitted.
"But isn't it hard to move from place to place and, like, have new roommates that you can't pick all the time? That you also have to babysit?"
"Not really," Kurt answered, after a moment of silence. "Normally, people I worked with were well aware of the danger they were in, so they mostly kept to themselves and rarely wanted to leave the house. This one guy once stayed two months indoors. That was the most difficult case for me because I stayed with him the whole time. I got even paler, if you can believe that."
But Blaine didn't care about the special agent's skin. Something else had caught his attention. "So wait, you would let me to go out? I know I keep asking about this, but it's kind of driving me crazy."
"You will be able to go out, yes. At first I wouldn't want you going out on your own, but depending on the situation it might be okay for you to go somewhere alone after a while," Kurt said, but it was obvious he wasn't promising anything.
"But it would make your job easier if I didn't," Blaine didn't need to ask.
"As a matter of fact, yes. We will talk about this when we know more about how safe it is for you to wander off. I would hate to tell you that in a month you will be free to go wherever, and then later take it back."
"Alright, but as soon as you know it's safe for me–"
"I will tell you immediately," Kurt didn't let him finish. "So, next… your new identity. We needed something that would easily explain why we are home most of the time. Brian Thompson, that's you, is a twenty-three-year-old kindergarten teacher who lost his job when his school closed. He couldn't find a new job, mostly because of his lack of experience. It's the end of August and everywhere is filled, so it won't raise many questions. Brian's husband Kevin is a twenty-eight-year-old freelancer writing for fashion magazines, so obviously, he works from home."
"Why fashion magazines?" Blaine asked. He had noticed that Kurt had a good taste in clothing - even his pyjamas had some famous brand logo - but he couldn't imagine someone from law enforcement having passion for fashion.
"I had to put something together quickly and I was always interested in fashion, so if anyone asks me about my job I'll be able to respond easily. I usually choose some sort of writing job for my aliases."
"What about me? It's not like I have experience working with kids," Blaine questioned. He doubted that babysitting his neighbours' daughter a couple of times counted.
"There is a more detailed backstory in the folder you can look through. It has info on your previous workplace, the syllabus you taught, even your favourite students. If you memorize it, you won't have much trouble answering questions."
"Okay… I'm not so bad with kids," Blaine said.
"Great to hear that," Kurt grinned. "It's very important that we go through the Thompson love story. People tend to ask questions about relationships a lot. The backstory is very simple. We met through mutual friends, hit it off, blah blah blah, got together, Kevin proposed over a romantic dinner, boom – wedding. Moved here not long after."
"Kevin is lame. He should have thought of a better way to propose than dinner," Blaine said, unimpressed, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
"Yeah, well, it will be easier for us to remember a boring story."
"Still lame…"
"Are you okay?" Kurt looked at him worriedly. His change of mood must have confused him.
"I am, but it's a lot to take in," he sighed. "My life just turned around and now I'm this Brian guy with a lame husband."
"Hey, Kevin is not that bad," Kurt pouted.
"I don't think I believe you… I think you are biased."
"Well, he once surprised Brian with a Caribbean cruise. He likes rock climbing and skydiving. He… volunteers at an animal shelter. He–"
"Fine, fine, he is the coolest guy ever," Blaine said, rolling his eyes playfully.
"We can make them whatever we want. Well, reasonably whatever we want. If it's not a vital part of the story, like education or previous jobs, we can shape Brian and Kevin into what we want. Let your imagination run free."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"We just need to make sure that we are always on the same page. We need to update each other on everything personal that we share with strangers, so we don't mess it up. It's easy to get lost in lies," Kurt said, opening the folder in front of Blaine. "See, on every page there is enough space to add comments, so you can do that."
"Okay, so I have to memorize everything from this folder, and if I want to add anything I'll let you know."
"Sounds like a plan. And if you see something you don't like, we can discuss changing it, unless I have already told someone else about it. Then there is no way back. But know that I'm open for discussion."
"Thanks," Blaine smiled sincerely. He didn't have much control over this situation, and the little freedom that was given to him made him grateful. "Should we go shopping first, or can I begin to study the info?"
"I'd like to get shopping out of the way first, if that's okay with you. I don't think we will need to interact with anyone who would ask personal questions anyway," Kurt said and closed the folder.
"Fine by me. We don't have much time though, so we need to hurry if we want to memorize everything by the evening."
"Why by the evening?"
"The street party Sugar invited us to? If I'm to live here for months, I'd rather be on our neighbours' good side. So I think we should accept the invitation."
"I don't know…" Kurt said slowly, contemplating the idea.
"Look, I think it's a good opportunity to get it over with," Blaine reasoned. "If we go to the party we can just tell everyone our story and be done with it. We'll be less likely to tell different facts to different people if we do it over one evening."
"You have a point. I, myself, like to make new friends, even if temporarily."
"I'll need time to memorize the whole thing, so we'd better get going if you are ready? I will need to buy some clothes as well," Blaine said just a little bit too merrily.
"Yeah, sure. I like your new attitude, you know. I was afraid you might be… not like this," Kurt said with a smile and stood up.
"What happened was traumatizing, but I can't let it control me. Sam actually gave me a good advice on the way here. He said I have no say in what the Changs do or don't do, so worrying about it won't change anything. After a good night's rest, I think he is right. I need to make the most of the circumstances. If someone does come to kill me, I will deal with it then. So yeah, I won't let some criminal rule my life more than he already does," Blaine said as if it was the most obvious thing.
"That's really inspiring, you know," said Kurt as they walked to their bedrooms to get ready. "It's not easy to be this positive in such situations. I hope you keep this outlook."
"Positivity always helped me when times got hard."
They parted ways then, and even though it seemed that Kurt was about to ask something, Blaine went inside, not giving him an opportunity.
The shopping trip took over two hours, the visit to the thrift shop taking up most of the time. Blaine should have had a bad feeling when Kurt had had mentioned his love for fashion. If he had been alone, he would have taken the first cheap items that fit him and been done with it. With Kurt, however, he had to choose things that could later be coordinated into full outfits. By the end of it Blaine felt exhausted.
He would be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed himself, though. Kurt was fun to hang out with. He was sweet and had a great sense of humour. He didn't fail to make him laugh and on more than one occasion, Blaine forgot that they weren't just friends on a shopping trip. It was weird how easy he could envision being friends with the man, even though he hadn't had any for years.
Back in his new bedroom, Blaine put the new clothes in the closet neatly and found the old phone he had purchased. With his device left at Travis', he had to buy a new one.
When the phone was ready, he texted Sam to ask about his belongings and thank him again for helping him out. He knew he wasn't supposed to contact anyone from his old life, but one message couldn't hurt, especially since Sam was a police officer. Blaine just needed to keep it secret from Kurt and everything would be fine.
Later, he found himself lying on the couch in the living room while Kurt occupied the armchair. They had been reading and memorizing their backstory for hours, and it was more difficult than Blaine had expected. There were too many small, pointless details to remember.
"When exactly is the party?" Kurt asked, turning a page.
"She didn't say. Only that it was today," Blaine said, studying Brian and Kevin's family tree.
"Hm, maybe she will come around to let us know…"
"Just keep an eye on the window. When people start arriving, we can go as well," Blaine said, absentmindedly looking at a lonely branch that was Brian's.
"I've been doing that for a while. I'm tired of all this reading. Do you want anything to drink?" Kurt asked, going to the kitchen.
"No, thanks. Hey, is it okay if Brian has a brother?"
"Can't see why not. Add a description in my folder as well, okay?"
"Sure. I just need to think of a cool story first… Maybe a fire-fighter with scarred face after he saved a bunch of people during the fire. How does that sound?"
"And what are you going to say if people ask for a photo?"
"I'll say it's a new phone and I don't have his photo. I also don't have a laptop, so I don't have any pictures there, and he is also not on social networks because he doesn't like the concept. Easy peasy."
"You are good at thinking on a spot. Fine, add this scarred fire-fighter to the folder. Sure you don't want anything from the kitchen?"
"I'm good, thanks. His name is Coo…ney. Yup, Cooney Thomp… hey, was Thompson Kevin's last name or Brian's before the wedding?" Blaine asked, skimming the pages, trying to look for an answer.
"It's not in the file?"
"Not that I can see," Blaine said, looking through the profile page now.
"Whichever is fine. Just–"
"Add in the folder. I've got this," he said, sitting up to grab a pen from the table. "Let's say it was Brian's so I don't need another last name for Cooney. Oh, and what was Kevin's last name, then?"
"I don't know, Smith?"
"Smith? I thought we were past lame-Kevin, Kurt…"
"What's wrong with Smith? It's a nice last name."
"Suit yourself," Blaine said, writing down Kevin's last name. He looked up just in time to see Kurt coming back with a glass of milk. "I see we are not past lame-Kurt," Blaine smirked teasingly.
"There is nothing wrong with drinking milk. It's rich in calcium. You should have a glass from time to time," Kurt said, sitting down in his original spot.
"Sounds like something a lame person would say."
"I take it you like the word 'lame' a lot, huh?"
"I just enjoy seeing you getting defensive, and it seems that 'lame' is working perfectly to get this reaction from you," Blaine shrugged.
"I think I liked you better when you were worried about crime families, your life, and such. You were less of an ass," Kurt said in a serious voice.
Blaine straightened in his seat, suddenly worried he had stepped out of the line. "Oh, I'm very sorry, I was just teasing…" he apologised genuinely.
"Me too," Kurt smirked mischievously.
"Now you are an ass," Blaine pouted, relieved he wasn't in trouble, and threw a cushion at him.
Kurt easily caught it and laughed. "Well, you deserved it."
"Um, can't argue with that."
Kurt chuckled and looked through the window. "I think people are beginning to gather at Sugar's. Should we go as well?"
"Okay, but test me first," Blaine said, closing the file.
"Alright. Who is the best husband in the whole wide world?"
"Easy, it's me, Brian Thompson," he grinned. "Second question?"
"Which college did Brian attend?"
"Ohio State University."
"Who was his first boyfriend?" Kurt asked, and Blaine quirked his eyebrow. There was no such info in the file.
"Oh, I'd rather not talk about it. It was long time ago and I don't want to make Kevin uncomfortable. He is a jealous type."
"I think you are ready. I'll go grab wine from the fridge."
"And I'll go change into those insanely tight pants you picked out for me," Blaine whined, standing up.
"They look good on you. So what if they are tighter than those hideous sweatpants we wear at home?"
"If by the end of the evening I need to get my legs amputated, it's on you."
"Drama queen," he heard Kurt muttering from the kitchen, and laughed to himself.
Upstairs, he quickly changed into a new outfit and gelled his wild curls into a helmet, which was part of Kurt's 'look as different from your normal self as you can' plan. He looked at himself in the mirror before leaving the room. He looked… good. He wouldn't admit it to Kurt, but he liked this new style. He could easily pass as Brian, the kindergarten teacher.
He would go to his class and kids would greet him with sleepy smiles. He would smile back and go to his desk. There he would find a drawing of him made by one of his students. He would laugh and ask them who made the masterpiece and then he would hang it on the wall. He would begin each class with a song, something energetic to get the kids awake…
"Blaine? What's taking you so long?" Kurt's voice startled him.
"Sorry, had trouble with the bowtie. Do I really have to wear it?" he asked on the way downstairs, though secretly he loved the checkered orange and white pattern.
"It complements the look," Kurt said, studying the wine bottles in his hands. He looked up and a frown appeared on his face. "Oh come on… I've told you several times already, you have to tuck the shirt into the pants."
"Do I really have to? It feels weird. I never liked it."
"Don't be a baby. I'm not going out with a husband who looks like he has no idea how to dress," Kurt argued.
"Well, that would be one thing we wouldn't be lying about tonight."
"As long as you are with me, your outfits will be coordinated. Don't forget, it's my reputation as a fashion writer at risk."
"Fair enough, my very fashionable husband," Blaine rolled his eyes playfully, tucking his shirt into the pants. Kurt busied himself discreetly while Blaine unzipped his pants, and didn't turn back until he heard the zipper going up. "Here, happy?"
"Very much. Let's go, husband."
"After you, husband." Blaine gave him a small bow and let Kurt walk out first. That's when he noticed something. "Whoa, wait, are you seriously bringing a gun to the party?"
"How else am I supposed to protect you if something happens? I need to be prepared. After all, only yesterday you became a target of one of the most influential crime families in the country."
"I don't know, use your super-secret ninja skills maybe? What if someone sees the gun?" Blaine said, unable to believe that, out of the two of them, he was being the voice of reason. "How would you react if someone brought a gun to your house party?"
"Fine, if it makes you feel better, I will leave the gun locked in my bedroom. But I'm bringing my ninja stars and you can't stop me," Kurt said, handing him the bottles and walking upstairs.
"Sure, bring as many stars as you want," Blaine snorted.
This could be his life one day. Just him and his husband, bickering and teasing each other. Having breakfast together before going to work and sharing stories about their day over dinner. Watching movies together while cuddling on the couch and feeding each other strawberries or grapes, because movies are not complete without snacks. If only he could find this person who would want it all with him.
He heard Kurt's steps and snapped out of his daydream. "Just so you know," Kurt said as he started walking downstairs, "I'm bringing seven ninja stars in my pockets. I wanted to bring my sai swords as well, but since you were such a baby about the gun, I thought you would be opposed swords as well."
"Are you mocking me?" Blaine asked, and with a smirk Kurt reached out into his pocket and pulled a single ninja star out of it. "You have got to be shitting me… I was joking about the ninja skills."
"Do I look like I'm joking?" Kurt said, pocketing the star.
"You are so showing me the swords after the party."
"Deal. And maybe if you get our story right in front of our neighbours tonight, I will teach you some tricks."
"It's on, Hummel," Blaine beamed. "I won't pretend to be Brian. I will be Brian."
"That's what I'm hoping for," Kurt beamed at him, and took one bottle out of Blaine's hands. "Ready now?"
"One thing only," Blaine said and hugged Kurt tightly, sliding his hands down his body.
"Do you want to check other places for the gun?" Kurt snorted.
"Nope, the only plausible place was under your jacket, and it didn't feel like you were happy to see me," Blaine answered as he let go off Kurt, "so we are good to go, husband."
"Let's go, husband," Kurt smiled and they left the house.
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