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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 notes: my apologies, I really thought I had updated last week! I'll make it up to you with an extra chapter this week.
CHAPTER V: OF CLUB MEMBERS AND CHILDREN I
Although undisturbed throughout the night, Blaine didn't feel rested when he woke up at nine in the morning. He was exhausted. In spite of having had more than eight hours of sleep, his dreams were haunted by the memories of his own father beating him up, and self-created images of criminals killing his baby nephew Lucas. He was actually relieved to wake up, because he realised that nothing of the sort was happening.
After a quick shower in attempt to properly wake up, Blaine went into the kitchen for some coffee. He wasn't hungry. Every time he thought of his nightmares, he felt like throwing up.
"Good morning," Kurt greeted him as soon as he walked into the kitchen. He was eating something out of a mug, laptop in front of him.
"Hey," Blaine responded, going straight to the electric kettle.
"So, did you have fun last night?" Kurt asked conversationally as he closed the laptop. "Didn't have a chance to ask you yesterday."
"Surprisingly yes. I was so preoccupied with pretending to be the Brian guy that I didn't even have a moment to think about Travis and the Changs. It's hard to believe it happened only two days ago."
"Feels like forever, huh?"
"Maybe a week, not forever," Blaine said with a forced laugh. He couldn't believe so much had happened in so little time.
"Close enough," Kurt laughed awkwardly.
"True. Um, speaking of the murder mess… Is there any chance I could snoop around the Marshals' database or whatever to find out more about the Changs?" he asked nonchalantly, throwing some coffee grounds into a cup.
"I could get fired if someone found out. I can't let anyone use my access to the database," Kurt said apologetically.
"Then maybe you could lend me some electronic device I could use google on?" Blaine asked, pouring hot water into the cup. "I don't have a smart phone and I want to research the Changs."
"There isn't much publicly known about them. And their Wikipedia page has some false info."
"Awesome…" Blaine grumbled. It sounded harsher than he had planned, and even though he felt guilty momentarily, he didn't apologise.
"But, I guess I could tell you some things that are available to the public and that are true, so you don't have to read about Mike Chang growing up in a travelling circus."
"He what?"
"There is no proof that happened," Kurt explained. "Some teenager probably thought it would be funny to make stuff up."
"Don't underestimate evil geniuses," Blaine laughed. A cup of coffee was now in his hands, and he hoped to soon be able to have some energy in his body. "He might have been a fire-eater as a kid."
"I'm starting to believe it was you who edited that webpage," Kurt snorted, scraping the last bits of his breakfast off the sides of the mug. "You look tired. Did you sleep well?"
"Not really," Blaine admitted reluctantly. Lies were no use; if he looked tired, Kurt wouldn't believe he'd slept well anyway.
"Let me guess, nightmares?"
He nodded, and Kurt thought for a moment before beginning to speak slowly. "I have this nightmare antidote that works on me almost every time. My dad invented it when I was little. If you let me experiment on you, I might be able to make you feel better."
"How does this antidote work?" Blaine frowned, before taking a sip of the hot, bitter liquid.
"Well, first of all you should have breakfast. Then you do what I tell you to do," Kurt said, going to wash up his mug.
"Sounds like fun," Blaine said, voice heavy with sarcasm. As good as Kurt's intentions were, he didn't particularly like being ordered around. He had enough of that with clients.
"If you don't like it at any point, we can stop. But I have a feeling you might enjoy it."
"Okay, you got me curious, I'm in."
"Now I feel pressured to make it perfect… Okay, I've made too much of the banana strawberry smoothie for breakfast, so if you want you can have the leftovers. There's more than enough for one. And maybe forego coffee. In the meantime, I'll go get ready," Kurt said, placing the unwashed mug into the sink, and left.
Blaine poured himself a mug of the thick drink. Even though he didn't feel like eating, he didn't want Kurt to think he was ungrateful. He followed Kurt's lead and dug in with a spoon instead of trying to drink it out of the mug itself.
As he ate, Blaine thought of Kurt and what he could possibly be doing. He didn't like not knowing what he was in for, but the feeling of being cared for was nice. Kurt was out there trying to do something to cheer him up. Just thinking about it made him feel better.
He was soon done eating soon, and was washing up when Kurt walked into the kitchen.
"The smoothie was berry delicious, thank you," Blaine said, placing the mug onto the dish rack.
"What?" Kurt looked at him, confused.
"Very, berry? As in strawberry? Berry delicious? Ah, forget it…" Blaine gave up as Kurt didn't show any signs of following his train of thought.
"Strawberry is actually a fruit," he said.
Blaine shrugged. "Who cares? My pun was still awesome."
"You could say it was… strawesome," Kurt grinned, looking at him mischievously.
"You totally understood my pun!" Blaine exclaimed. "I knew I liked you for a reason, Hummel."
Kurt laughed. "You look better now. If you don't want to go through with my nonsense, we don't have to–"
"I still want to see this mysterious antidote," Blaine cut him off, determined to learn the mystery.
"Fine. I need you to leave the kitchen then. I'll let you know what to do next," Kurt instructed, opening up the cupboards, looking for something.
"Okay," Blaine said, and took a few steps to a side, successfully making it into the living room.
"You are still here," Kurt stated when he turned around.
"No, technically I'm in the living room. You said to leave the kitchen. I'm not in the kitchen."
"Out," Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and glared at him angrily. "Go to your room."
"Mean," Blaine mumbled and left. He was soon summoned downstairs to find Kurt in the living room.
"First step of the antidote is to make a human burrito of you," he said, guiding Blaine on the couch. "How is your backside? Can you sit?"
"Yes," Blaine affirmed and sat down on the thick blanket that was laid on the couch. A cushion was shoved into his arms. He looked questioningly at Kurt.
"Step two is cuddle a plush toy. This is the closest to a toy I could find," Kurt responded, before adding, "Now wrap yourself up, please."
He left immediately and came back with two steaming mugs of hot cocoa with marshmallows on top. Blaine didn't know if his stomach could handle more liquids, but he accepted the mug with gratitude nevertheless.
"That was step three. And now step four," Kurt said sitting down next to him and picking up the TV remote. He pressed play.
"Hotel Transylvania is part of your antidote?" Blaine asked incredulously when the movie began. He had seen its posters a couple of years back, but decided against spending money on the ticket.
"Any uplifting animation works. And this one is just awesome. Now hush."
And Blaine did. He sipped cocoa slowly as guests started arriving at the hotel. Soon his memories of the nightmares faded.
Blaine was so transfixed by the movie that he didn't even notice how time flew.
"Did it work?" Kurt asked when ending credits began rolling.
"It actually did," Blaine said. He didn't hurry to untangle himself from the blanket. "I… my brother had a son recently. I found out last night."
He hadn't planned to tell Kurt about it. And yet he wanted to talk to someone, and Kurt was the only one he could discuss it with.
"Normally I would say congrats on becoming an uncle, but you don't sound happy about it."
"I'm happy for him, I really am," Blaine sighed, hugging the cushion more tightly. "I just wish I could be a part of his life, you know? Be a proper fun uncle who brings presents whenever he visits. But, instead he will probably never know about his dad having a brother. What kid would want a whore uncle anyway?"
"You are more than your… occupation. Who cares how many people you've had sex with? No matter your past, you can still be a fun uncle," Kurt said softly.
"Oh please, don't pretend you are not judging me," Blaine laughed coldly.
"I'm not, trust me. I've met people like you and I know you must have had–"
"People like me?" Blaine laughed again. "Do you mean prostitutes with sob stories? Abducted and sold into sex slavery? Thrown out by parents with no means of surviving? Forced by their abusive boyfriends? Well, newsflash, I don't have such story. I did this to myself. I was stupid, and I got where I am because of that," his voice rose with each word, and by the end of his rant he was not only shouting, but also close to tears.
"So it had nothing to do with your dad abusing both you and your mother?" Kurt asked, not fazed by the yelling.
"Wha– How do you…" he was taken aback by his knowledge.
"We always check everything there is to know about the person going into witness protection. It's part of the job."
"Whatever," Blaine spat, not caring about Kurt digging into his past at the moment. "It was stupid to run away. I should have stayed until I was done with school."
"And risk getting killed or seriously hurt? You could have involved child services or something instead of running away, sure, but you had to protect yourself somehow," Kurt said, as if he understood what Blaine was going through. He didn't.
"At least it would have been me and not my mom. I left her there to suffer alone," Blaine said, and tears threatened to escape his eyes.
"Oh Blaine–"
"I don't want to talk about it," he said, and was about to leave when Kurt's words stopped him.
"Your mother divorced your dad two years ago. He is in prison now."
"What?" he looked at the man's face, trying to find traces of lies.
"I shouldn't be telling you this… but it's probably eating you alive so… just give me a second," Kurt said, and went to the kitchen to retrieve his laptop. He logged in and searched Blaine's dad. "Here is his record."
Blaine took the laptop and stared at his dad's mugshot.
"I listened to her statement. The abuse got worse through the years," Kurt said while Blaine skimmed the legal information about the man's imprisonment. "Neighbours called the police several times because they heard yelling and things breaking. But it wasn't until your brother saw bruises on her body that she admitted what was happening."
"Sixteen years," Blaine muttered, reading the prison sentence recorded on the profile.
"He was sentenced for both domestic violence and child abuse. And he also tried to run away from the police," Kurt explained. "They didn't need your testimony because you were still a child when it was happening and your mother's statement was enough. It helped that the judge had kids. It's always an advantage in child abuse cases."
"She's safe," Blaine whispered, and now his tears fell freely. "I hated her for letting him do it to us, but I still love her, you know? And she is safe now… Wow, thank you."
"How long has it been since you last saw your family?"
"Since I ran away. I was sixteen then. Haven't talked to them since," he said, wrapping the blanket more tightly around his shoulders.
"Maybe, now that you know that your dad is out of the picture, you could visit them after witness protection is called off?"
"Maybe…" Blaine said absentmindedly. He would have to think about it, but he highly doubted that reuniting with his family would benefit anyone. "What's the plan for today?" he asked, giving Kurt a sign that they were done talking about his family.
"I was thinking of visiting the local library. We need to pick up a book for the first book club meeting. I know it's days away, but I'd rather read a book or two before suggesting something to the other members."
"Sounds good to me. Do you think I could check out some textbooks?"
"Sure, I don't see why not," Kurt shrugged and stood up, picking up their empty mugs. "I'll put these in the sink and we can go get ready. Okay?"
"Okay. And when we come back maybe you could show me your sai swords?"
"Deal!"
The trip to the library was a success. Blaine not only got a couple of books for the club and several textbooks, he also managed to print out the photo of Lucas. He even spent more of his savings so he could have a coloured version. Grey was too depressing.
Afterward, Kurt showed him the swords as promised, but upon seeing some tricks Blaine decided against playing with them. It looked dangerous and, besides, he enjoyed watching Kurt.
After lunch, Kurt came to Blaine with an unusual request. "We need to take some photos," he said when Blaine opened his bedroom door for him.
"Why? Do you have a photo album on facebook called 'my super-secret witness protection cases'? Because you know it's not how it works, right?" Blaine smirked at him.
"That's an awesome idea, but sadly, no. We need photos to represent our relationship," Kurt explained. "It's a normal procedure. Last night someone asked if I had a photo of our wedding on my phone and I had to say no. She had hers as her phone screen."
"Okay then. But I'm taking one with the swords. It would look super cool."
"Be my guest."
"Do I need to wear anything special?" Blaine asked, looking down at his sweats and a simple blue shirt.
"No, we mostly need face photos and maybe a few full body shots. Everything else can be modified by specialists," Kurt said.
"Let me guess, you have a whole department of PhotoShop specialists?"
"I can neither confirm, nor deny it. Now let's get this over with."
The living room had the best light, so they held a short photoshoot. Blaine didn't even bother to look through the shots because he knew they would be retouched.
"I love this selfie," Kurt said, shoving the camera to his face. In the photo, Kurt was smiling adorably and Blaine was kissing his cheek while smiling too. He had to admit it was a sweet photo. "They won't even have to change anything."
"Or we can pretend all our photos got burned and our computers got viruses so we don't have a single photo," Blaine suggested jokingly. "And so we only have the ones in our new living room."
"Yes, because that's believable," Kurt rolled his eyes and turned the camera off.
"Hey, who's that?" Blaine asked looking out the window. A moving truck was pulling past their house. After a few seconds it stopped.
"Must be the new neighbour Puck's wife mentioned," Kurt said, joining Blaine in staring.
Soon a young man got out of the car together with the driver, and when he reached the back, Kurt couldn't hold a laugh in.
"He looks like a vampire who has just rolled in glitter," he said, watching the man struggle to walk on his four-inch high heels. He was wearing a glittering black coat and a matching top hat.
"Hm, I wouldn't have compared him to something like that, but now that you said it I can't un-see it," Blaine said, mesmerized. "I'm also imagining Dracula rolling in a glitter pool."
"Oh shit, he saw us," Kurt cursed when the guy waved at them. "Should we go say hi? Offer to help?"
"We should. Otherwise we will look stuck up," Blaine said, and they went outside to greet their new neighbour.
"Hello," Kurt said when the man came back from the house for another box. "My name is Kevin and this is my husband, Brian."
"It's an extraordinary pleasure to meet you, guys," the man said, shaking their hands. "Did you know that the Colonel-in-Chief of the Norwegian Royal Guard is a penguin? Crazy," he said, and grabbed a box before walking away.
"What just happened?" Kurt asked, stunned.
"Why would anyone appoint a penguin to such a role?" Blaine had a better question.
"Should we wait for him or…?"
"He's coming back."
"His name is Nils Olav, by the way," the man said, sitting down on the edge of the truck and pushing a box for the driver to pick up.
"And what's yours?" Blaine asked.
"Call me Starchild. Everybody does," the man said, swinging his legs. "I gave you an interesting fact, now you have to give one to me. It's only fair."
"Okay? Um, I don't know," Kurt muttered, scratching his head. "Help me, honey?"
"For example, it would be interesting for me to know your last names," Starchild prompted.
"Thompson," Blaine replied.
"Awesome, Kevin and Brian Thompson, now we are cool-facts-buddies!" the man exclaimed and jumped out of the truck. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I have this boring moving-in stuff to do. And thanks for almost offering to help, but I'll be fine. Oh, and did you know it's illegal in Singapore to chew gum in public? Well, now you do. Bye."
"Why do I get a feeling we will see a lot of him?" Kurt asked as they made their way back home.
"He's funny, I like him," Blaine said. "Are we done with the photos? I'd like to go back to my books."
"Sure. See you at dinner."
As the days passed, Kurt and Blaine easily fell into a routine He hadn't shared a space with anyone since he had lived with his parents, and while it was a two-story house, it was still rather unexpected how natural it felt.
In the mornings, Blaine would peel fruit while Kurt blended them into delicious smoothies. Afterward, they would go to their rooms and Blaine would read or study while Kurt did his whatever secret tasks. They would meet for tea or coffee at some point and then go back to their sanctuaries until it was time to cook for lunch. The same routine followed until dinner, and they would always finish their day with a mug of warm milk, which Blaine insisted was still lame, but secretly enjoyed.
With each day, Blaine's back hurt less and less until it stopped. He could easily move and sit down without discomfort. And while the money issue still bugged him, he was relieved he didn't have to meet any clients. For the first time in a few years, he had the luxury of resting his mind and body for longer than two days.
Suddenly it was Tuesday, and with it the meeting of the book club. Throughout the week, Kurt and Blaine had seen Sugar twice, but on both occasions she had been busy with the kindergarten she and her husband owned, so they didn't have a chance to talk much. Artie spent most of his days working from home before going back to LA, and he was nowhere to be seen. Puck, on the other hand, spent a couple of evenings with them, complaining about his wife, who, according to him, didn't have time for him anymore.
The man was sweet and fun, but Blaine would have preferred it just being him and Kurt, because then they wouldn't have had to pretend to be other people. On the other hand, Puck's constant babbling about everything and nothing served as a great distraction.
And then there was the mystery of Starchild. A guy who was never seen without his top hat or eyeliner. Even on his way to check mail in the morning, he wore those together with pyjamas. They hadn't talked since their first meeting, but they always greeted each other in passing.
On the morning of the club meeting, Kurt surprised Blaine by revealing that the photo editors had finished the final touches on the Thompsons' photo album. Blaine had seen his share of PhotoShop failures, so he was fairly curious to see the outcome. As they sat in the kitchen and Kurt flipped through the photos on his laptop, Blaine kept an eye out for mistakes.
"I absolutely love this one," Kurt said as he lingered on a photo of 'them' lying on deck chairs.
"Is it from that awesome Caribbean cruise the amazing Kevin surprised Brian with?" Blaine asked.
"Yes. Now we have a proof that Kevin is, in your own words, amazing," Kurt said, proud of himself.
Blaine nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. Of course, it would be better if Brian didn't have six fingers in this one, but we can say I've had a finger removal surgery."
"What?" Kurt's eyes widened and he leaned closer to the screen. "Where?"
"Ha! You looked," Blaine laughed and took a step back, pretending to be preparing for the man's attack.
"You jerk! I'm gonna divorce you so hard," Kurt said, closing his laptop with an unnecessarily loud bang.
Blaine's mouth hung open in mock horror. "Oh no! What am I going to do without my beloved husband? No, please, don't leave me all alone in this scary world!" he pleaded, falling onto his knees.
"You should have thought about it before you broke my heart. You should have known by now that making fun of me was the only thing I would not tolerate! What kind of husband are you if you don't know that?"
"A non-uptight one?" Blaine asked, getting up on his feet. "You know what, I'm divorcing you, too, for being too serious. I'd love to see you survive without the fun I bring into your life."
"Well fine, be that way," Kurt grabbed his laptop and left the kitchen, holding his head way too high. "Lunch at one as always," he added from the hallway.
"Aye aye, captain," Blaine shouted back and listened for the man's steps until he made it into his bedroom.
Only upon seeing his reflection in the microwave did Blaine realise he was sporting a wide, dopey smile. He cleared his throat and got himself together, forcing his face muscles to relax. This was not a good time to get a crush. But, try as he might, he couldn't help but go back to his bedroom and lie in his bed imagining what dating Kurt would be like. It was the first sign he was screwed.
Blaine avoided Kurt until lunch, irrationally worried that the other would somehow be able to sense his newly discovered crush. He only relaxed afterward when Kurt didn't act any differently. But, when he remembered that they would have to pretend to be husbands, Blaine's anxiety came back. He didn't know how to defeat his crush when he was expected to stare lovingly at Kurt in public.