Author's Note: Please read this before you start reading!
First, this story is 100% complete. I will be posting a chapter every other day.
Second, for those who have seen the movie, the dark elements of it are going to be darker in this fic, so be warned.
And last: I have kept close to the story line of the actual movie and have even quoted or paraphrased certain parts because I liked them.
Disclaimer: I do not own Pretty Woman or Glee.
Mega huge thanks to Misty (istytehcrawk) for the beta and so many other things!
Eli accepts handshakes and schmoozes possible future business partners and jokes with the well-to-do people around him, all while searching the crowd.
"Where is the guest of honor?" Wes Montgomery, a very powerful judge, asks as he firmly shakes Eli's hand.
Eli laughs as he replies, "If I know him, he's off kissing babies and charming sweet old ladies." He walks away after a brief conversation and growls under his breath, "Where is he?"
The man in question, Blaine Anderson, sighs into the phone. "Adam, I need you here. Didn't my secretary call you?"
"Of course she did; I speak to her more than I speak to you," Adam snaps, "but I'm not your beck and call girl-"
"You're not a girl at all."
"-and I'm tired of being treated as such."
"Adam, this is very important to me."
"I should be important to you! But no, it's always about business with you. Maybe I should just move out."
"If that's what you want."
Adam sighs heavily, his breath crackling over the speaker. "I really don't want to do this right now; we'll talk about it when you get back to New York."
"I think now is a perfectly good time to talk about this."
"Fine. Goodbye, Blaine."
The phone goes silent in his ear and when he pulls it away from his face, he sees that the call has been disconnected. "Goodbye, Adam."
He steps out of his office a few minutes later after checking that his hair is still perfect and his suit wrinkle free. An associate stops him to give him an update on the stocks of the company he's currently looking to buy, but Blaine quickly brushes her off after giving explicit instructions on what to watch. He shakes the hands of each person that stops him, calling them by their names, talking business with those in power positions and charming their partners. It doesn't take long before he finds himself face to face with-
"Trent! Well, this is a surprise," Blaine says with a sincere smile and a brief embrace of his ex-boyfriend.
"Hello, Blaine," Trent replies warmly. "How are you? I heard about James."
"I'm good, I'm good. I heard you got married."
Trent laughs, showing Blaine his ring. "Yeah, well, I couldn't wait for you forever." They both laugh at that and their failed attempt at a relationship.
"Yeah. Hey, listen, I have a quick question. When we were dating, did you talk to my secretary more than you talked to me?"
Trent rolls his eyes fondly. "Yeah, we still have lunch together weekly; she was one of the groomsmaids at my wedding."
"Yeah, oh." Trent nudges him playfully.
"Well, it was great to see you. Your husband is a lucky man," Blaine tells him, pulling him in for another hug and kissing his temple before they part. The rest of the evening is spent in much the same way, making small talk and accepting accolades and condolences.
It isn't long before Blaine grows antsy, ready to leave the party and get to his hotel to prepare for the meeting the next day. He calls Finn to have his limo pulled around, but when he gets outside, he's annoyed to find that it had been parked way in the back and is effectively blocked in.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Anderson, they said there's nothing they can do," Finn tells him, shrugging helplessly.
"It's alright, Finn," Blaine says, looking around briefly before spotting a familiar car, most definitely not blocked in. He motions to it and calls to the valets. "Is this Mr. Collins' car?"
The men glance at each other before nodding.
"Excellent. Toss me his keys, would you?" With another unsure glance at each other, one of them grabs the appropriate set of keys and tosses it to Blaine, who unlocks the car and slides in.
Great, a stick shift.
He's just got the car started when Eli skids to a stop next to the door. "Chandler said you left. Where are you going? Why are you in my car?"
"Because my limo is blocked in; Finn can't get it out."
Eli takes a quick look at the stuffed parking lot and turns to the waiting valets. "What is this mess, guys? Come on! Can you just-"
Blaine finally gets the car to jerk forward and Eli whirls around. "That's a stick, Blaine. Can you even drive a stick?"
"Yeah, yeah, sure," he replies noncommittally as the gears grind.
"Why- why don't you just wait a minute? They'll get it cleared out. You don't even know where you're going! You'll get lost in the dark," he yells as Blaine moves further down the driveway, feeling a bit more confident despite the frequent grinding noises.
"See you at the office," he yells back as he pulls away.
Kurt groans at his obnoxiously beeping alarm and stretches his body, feeling the delicious pull of his muscles as his hand slaps around until the beeping stops. He lets out a huge sigh, relaxing and wiggling deeper in his bed for a last few stolen seconds before he forces himself to get up.
He showers, washing his body thoroughly and ignoring his slight stubble in favor of sucking down a cup of coffee before brushing his teeth. He considers the tubes sitting around the sink before choosing a dark green and glopping some of the thick gel onto his fingers. It's carefully applied until his hair is artistically streaked green for the night.
He picks up his favorite pair of leather pants and sets about the task of wiggling into them. Once the arduous task is complete, he buttons them up and slips on his tightest shirt, fashionably ripped and clinging deliciously to his biceps. Grabbing a permanent marker, Kurt quickly colors in the back of one of his boots, too old and falling apart, with a safety pin to pull the zipper up. Outfit complete save for the thin jacket he'll grab before he leaves, he adds just the smallest touch of eyeliner under his eyes, making the blue pop.
As he heads downstairs, Kurt hears the building manager demanding rent from someone and freezes. He knows that he and Tina don't have the money right now and if the manager sees him, he'll want Kurt to pay up. Turning around, he quietly locks himself back into their apartment and sneaks out through the fire escape, dropping to the ground with relative ease before searching for his roommate.
"Hey, Schue, is Tina here?" Kurt calls over the loud music at the Blue Banana, a club they frequent on rainy nights when they're looking for Johns.
"She's upstairs," the older man calls back, shaking a questioning glass at him. Kurt shakes his head and walks past the couples making out on the stairs to the top, where Tina is sitting in Dustin Goolsby's lap, looking a little dazed.
She blinks at him slowly before a grin cracks her face. "Heeeeey, Kurt! You remember-"
"Yeah, I know everyone here." Kurt shoots a disgusted look at Dustin, who just smirks and rakes his eyes up and down Kurt's body. "Come on, we need to go."
"Hey, hold on, I'm not done with her; she still owes me twenty more minutes," Dustin informs him. "Of course, if you want to work off her debt instead..."
"Not on your life," Kurt sneers, storming over and pulling Tina to her feet. "You've had your fun."
Dustin stands, grabbing Kurt's arm. "Be more fun with a pretty little thing like you."
Kurt rips his arm away. "Not a chance." Without waiting for a reply, his heart pounding in fear at provoking such a powerful man, Kurt leads Tina down and plants her at the end of the bar.
"I thought we were leaving?" Tina asks, eyes a little clearer and voice barely slurring.
"Snacks. You need to sober up," Kurt replies, piling a few orange slices and cherries on a napkin and wrapping it up. "Come on."
It's not until they're on the street and heading to their corner that he starts in on her. "What the hell, Tina? What were you thinking?"
She just shrugs, slowly working her way through the fruit. "He pays extra when he drugs me and we really need that money, K."
"Not at the cost of your health!"
"Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do, Kurt," Tina finally snaps, tossing her napkin in a nearby trash can before they turn the corner to the strip they usually work. "We need rent money and Dustin is always willing to pay out the ass. I don't use outside of that and you know it, so get off my back."
Kurt blinks at her in surprise. "I'm sorry, Tay. I just... I worry about you." He reaches out and pulls her to his side, kissing the top of her head.
She sighs, burrowing closer to him. "I know, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm just so hungry."
She straightens up, her eyes narrowing as she spots a woman leaning faux casually against a tree. "Uh, Marley."
The girl looks up, flicking the end of her cigarette. "What?"
"What are you doing here? You know this is our turf. Me and Kurt, we work all the way down to Fred Astaire, so why don't you scamper off to some second rate nobody where you belong?"
Marley rolls her eyes, tossing her butt away carelessly. "Forgive me, I was just taking a break. Besides, he's new here; he doesn't even count."
She's gone before either of them can retort, her heels clicking as she walks away.
"Bitch," Tina sneers before turning back to Kurt. "You count so much more than her."
"I know." He doesn't show her any more affection, since it has the potential to run off Johns, but he still gives her a sweet, sincere smile before focusing on the sweet ass ride that's just jerked to a stop a few yards in front of them, all shiny and candy apple red.
"Helloooo," he whistles, staring longingly at it.
"Go for it; that's this month's groceries," Tina hisses, pushing him slightly.
"How do you even know he's gay?"
"With that car? Please."
Kurt rolls his eyes at the stupid notion, like a car can determine sexual orientation, but peels his long overcoat off, strutting towards the parked car.
Eli was right. He got lost, he's all turned around, and now he's stuck with this stupid car and he doesn't know where the hell he is-
There's a face in the window, very handsome and elvish, too thin, his muscles bulging when he leans forward after Blaine rolls down the window.
"Hey, sugar, looking for a good time?" His voice is high and a little breathy, his eyelashes fluttering prettily.
"Actually, I'm looking for my hotel," Blaine replies. He's never been propositioned by a hooker before and he's finding it's actually quite cheesy. "Could you give me directions?"
"Sure. For five bucks."
"Are you serious?"
"Price just went up to ten." The man (boy? He looks so young) smirks at him.
The boy shrugs, straightening up and leaning his (very nice, firm looking) ass against the door. Blaine sighs, because now he's tired and frustrated. He digs in his pocket and comes up with the smallest bill he has. "Do you have change for a twenty?" he calls.
Before he can blink, the boy is in the car with him, taking the twenty and stuffing it in his pocket. "For twenty, I'll take you myself." He motions for Blaine to go, which he does after carefully checking for oncoming traffic.
"Turn on your lights!"
Blaine flicks on the lights after checking the dash, then goes back to fiddling with the gears.
"Seems like it's not that good of a time to be a hooker," Blaine remarks.
He glares at Blaine. "I always use condoms and I get checked out once a month at the free clinic. I can do things to you that would blow your mind that an amateur wouldn't even begin to know how to do." They ride in silence for a moment before the boy asks, "So where are we going?"
"Uh, the Regent Beverly Wilshire."
"Cool, turn right at the corner."
He sees the boy wince with each grind of the gears. "So what's your name?"
"What do you want it to be?" the boy asks as they jerk to a stop at a red light. Blaine just gives him a look and the boy rolls his eyes. "It's Kurt."
"Kurt." He rolls the name around on his tongue. "That's a good name."
He stares at Blaine as he tries to shift gears again, grinding them roughly. "You know, I think you left your transmission back on the corner of What The Fuck Are You Doing Lane and Have You Ever Driven A Day In Your Life Blvd."
"My first car was a limo, so no, I haven't ever driven a day in my life," Blaine quips.
Kurt launches into an explanation of how to properly drive the car, until Blaine rolls his eyes. "Have you ever driven a car like this before?"
"Um, no, this car costs more than I'll make in my entire life."
The car jerks to a halt on the shoulder and Blaine turns to him. "Well, tonight is your lucky night, because you can take us the rest of the way." He gets out and Kurt follows suit, looking excited.
"Buckle up, baby, I'm about to take you on the ride of your life," Kurt says once they've switched sides.
"I'm ecstatic," Blaine replies dryly, though he does as Kurt says, just before he throws the car in gear and takes off. "So where did you learn about cars?
"My dad. He was a mechanic and he taught me everything he knew when I was growing up. I used to follow him around his car shop. The guys thought I was the funniest little thing." Kurt chuckles, but Blaine still detects a note of sadness and since he didn't miss Kurt's use of past tense; he could guess why. They sit in silence for only a few seconds before Blaine shifts awkwardly.
"So what's the going rate these days?"
"I don't take less than a hundred."
"A hundred bucks for a night?" Blaine asks incredulously.
"For an hour."
Now it's his turn to stare. "A hundred bucks an hour and you have a safety pin holding your boot up. You've got to be joking."
Kurt takes his eyes off of the road for a brief moment to look him in the face. "I never joke about money."
"Neither do I." They turn another corner and Blaine shakes his head. "A hundred bucks. Pretty stiff."
He's shocked when Kurt reaches over and palms his mostly limp cock. (It was a really nice ass.) "Not really, but it's got potential." His hand moves away when Blaine gives him a bitchface, but otherwise he's unapologetic.
It doesn't take long before Kurt's pulling up in front of the hotel and Blaine breathes out a sigh of relief because it really was "the ride of his life," one he would be okay never repeating. Maybe.
"Will you be needing the car again tonight, sir?" the doorman asks when they get out.
"God, I hope not," Blaine chuckles as he tosses him the keys. He turns to Kurt, standing beside him on the curb. "Well, thank you for that."
"Any time," Kurt replies, grinning. "It's been a real slice, but I'm gonna catch a cab with my twenty bucks." He gives Blaine a little wave as he backs away.
Blaine's lips quirk up and he waves back. He starts walking toward the hotel, but loneliness tugs at his gut. For some reason, he feels a powerful urge just not to be alone tonight. His eyes flick to Kurt, perched on the back of a bus bench as he stares down the street. Before he's even conscious of what he's doing, Blaine's standing next to the boy.
"No cabs tonight?"
Kurt looks at him. "I prefer the bus."
"Ah." They stand there in silence for a second before, "A hundred bucks for an hour, huh?"
Kurt smiles and it's so sweet, so innocent for someone in his line of work. "Yup."
"Well, if you don't have any prior engagements, I would like it if you would accompany me to my room."
Kurt smiles so wide, his eyes crinkle and his adorable little teeth show. "You got it."
Blaine offers his hand to help Kurt hop down, and then leads the way to the hotel.
"What's your name?" Kurt asks.
"Oh, like from Pretty In Pink?"
Blaine laughs. "If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that. No, it's just a name." He stops just before they get to the door, straightening out his jacket. "Here, put this on," he requests, draping it over Kurt's broad shoulders.
"Wha- Why?" Kurt does as he asks, following when Blaine starts walking again.
"Because this establishment isn't the type to rent by the hour."
Kurt shrugs as Blaine nods his thanks to the doorman as they walk in. They're only a few steps in before Kurt jerks to a stop. "Whoa. This place is huge."
"It is," Blaine confirms, placing a hand on Kurt's back and gently urging him forward to the front desk. Kurt's still looking all around as Blaine greets the young lady at the front desk. "Hello, any messages for me?"
"Yes, sir." She's obviously trying not to stare at Kurt as she pulls a small stack of papers out and hands it to Blaine, who flips through it quickly.
There's nothing urgent in there, so he gives the girl a smile. "Thank you. Will you have champagne and strawberries sent up to my room, please? Thanks." He leads Kurt away towards the elevators, where an older couple is already waiting. Blaine smiles politely at them as he presses the up button, but he can feel Kurt tensing at the sidelong looks they're giving him.
"Aw, honey," he says, cloyingly sweet and Blaine braces himself, "I think I forgot to wear underwear. These leather pants-"
Blaine thanks whatever is out there that the elevator doors open then, cutting off whatever Kurt was about to say. Kurt struts inside but Blaine gestures for the couple to go first.
"Oh, look, there's a sofa for two in here," Kurt coos, plopping down and angling one of his impossibly long legs up, taking up most of the space. The couple stops, the woman looking a bit scandalized.
"First time in an elevator," he offers as a pathetic excuse. He hears a soft, "Oh," from the woman as Blaine steps inside, a little irritated.
"Sorry, I couldn't help it," Kurt mumbles, standing up. The elevator operator snickers.
"Try," Blaine says, doing his best not to snap.
The rest of the short trip is spent in silence, though Blaine can see the operator looking at them in the reflective doors of the elevators.
"Penthouse," the operator says as the doors slide open. His head follows Kurt as he walks out and Blaine clears his throat pointedly when he goes so far as to poke around the corner to keep watching him. The man hurries to straighten up, grinning smugly and winking as Blaine steps out. He rolls his eyes and makes his way down the short hallway to the doors, digging his keycard out and slipping it into the lock. The light beeps green and they step inside.
"This place is nice," Kurt breathes, taking the room in with just as much reverence as he had the lobby downstairs. "Oh, cool, a balcony!" He winds his way through the furniture and steps outside. "The view is amazing!"
"I'll take your word for it; I haven't been out there." Blaine settles down at the desk, flipping open his laptop.
Kurt comes back in, roaming around. Blaine sees him drape his overcoat on one of the sofas from the corner of his eyes as his laptop boots up and he drags his finger over the fingerprint identification pad, signing him in.
"Soooo, now that you have me here, what are you going to do with me?" Kurt asks, finally having made his way back to Blaine's desk. He props himself up against it, staring coyly at Blaine from under his eyelashes.
"You know what? I honestly don't know." Blaine leans back with a self deprecating chuckle, watching every shift of Kurt's body as he reaches in his back pocket.
"Pick a color," he says, holding up several condom packets. "I've got red, I've got green, I've got purple, and I've even got a flavored one in here. Cherry, I think."
Blaine just shakes his head, still laughing softly to himself. He doesn't want sex right now, not really, despite the absolute hotness that is his 'date' for the night. He stands, needing to shed some of his layers, but Kurt grabs the buckle of his belt as soon as he can.
"Alright, let's suit you up."
He stills Kurt's hands with his own, sighing wearily and shaking his head firmly. "No- Just-" He removes his jacket, carefully hanging it on the back of his chair. "How about we talk instead?"
"Talk? Um, okay." Kurt look hesitant for the first time. "Okay, so why haven't you gone outside yet?"
"I've been busy since I landed; I haven't really had the time."
"So I'm guessing that you're here on business, then."
"Yeah, I suppose."
"You suppose, huh?"
Kurt follows Blaine as he goes to a chair, unbuttoning his vest and settling down with his feet propped up, at least until Kurt straddles the ottoman. "I'm going to take a wild guess and say… Lawyer."
"Do I look like a lawyer?"
"A bit, yeah. Not quite as skeezy as most I've met, though."
"What about you? Why did you come here?"
"Why does anyone come here? I had big dreams, but they fell through, which is insane because I used to be a crazy planner. I had every minute of my life planned, but sometimes things, life, throws something at you and it all kind of… Blows up in your face. Now, I just try to live minute to minute. No sense in making plans if they're just going to blow up in your face."
A musical tone dings throughout the room and they both stand quickly, their bodies pressed together in the small space between the chair and ottoman.
"What's that?" Kurt asks.
"Oh! I'll get it!" He giddily opens the door, holding it so that the man carrying a tray can walk in. Blaine points to the bar and the man scuttles over and deposits his burden.
"It will be on your bill, Mr. Anderson."
"Yes, thank you."
The man then turns to Kurt, looking at him expectantly, and Kurt looks right back at him for a long moment. "What," he finally snaps.
Blaine jumps out of his stupor and pulls a twenty out while walking over to press it into the man's hand. "There you go, sorry."
"Thank you, sir. Have a good night."
"Shit, I forgot," Kurt groans. "Sorry, I-"
"Don't worry about it; it's okay," Blaine soothes, pouring a glass of champagne and handing it to Kurt, who sucks it down eagerly. Blaine is torn between smiling and shaking his head, so he does both as he uncovers the bowl of strawberries. "Here, try one of these."
"Oh, thank you." Kurt takes one and bites into it, his eyes closing and a moan tearing from his throat as he chews. "That's really good."
Blaine's too busy watching his throat work to reply, but suddenly there are two bright blue eyes staring right at him.
"Just so you know, as much as I like this whole thing you've got going on here, I'm a sure thing; you don't have to, like, seduce me or anything," Kurt says, tossing the little green bit of the strawberry in a small empty bowl that Blaine had placed beside him and grabbing another plump red fruit. "You can do anything you want with me, so what do you want?"
Blaine actually takes a moment to stop and think about that question for the first time that night. What did he want?
"Do you have somewhere you have to be?"
Kurt looks a little incredulous at the question. "Um, not really, why?"
"You just seem in a bit of a rush." Blaine regards him for a second before asking, "How much for a night?"
"How much for you to spend the entire night with me?"
Kurt thinks about it for a moment before seeming to settle on something. "Five hundred."
"Because I don't want to be alone tonight. Make yourself comfortable."
Twenty minutes later, Kurt is sitting on the floor of the hotel room, his bare feet wiggling in the lush carpet, snacking on various things from the mini bar and giggling as he watches an old episode of I Dream of Jeannie. Blaine is too busy talking to one of his assistants on Skype to really pay attention, but Kurt's laughter makes something coil happily in his stomach.
He signs off finally, closing his laptop and finally looking at Kurt, who shifts so that he's lying on his stomach, his eyes glued to the television. It's adorable, quite frankly, but Blaine, for whatever reason, wants to watch Kurt, to see his face and watch his different reactions. He changes chairs, moving so that he can do as he wants. Kurt is beautiful, even bathed in black and white. His body is long and lean, but too thin, making Blaine wonder when his last real meal had even been.
Kurt's attention finally shifts, focusing on Blaine watching him. He puts down the juice he was sipping from and carefully maneuvers around all the junk he has on the floor, pausing only to mute the tv. His shirt is pulled off and tossed onto a nearby chair and then his bare torso is pressing against Blaine's knees. Long, deft fingers loosen the knot of his tie until the ends hang open and then the buttons are popped open, one by one, until his torso is fully revealed. Kurt grabs his knees and pulls him forward firmly until his ass is half hanging off of the chair. He leans down, pressing a kiss to Blaine's collarbone.
"What do you want?"
"What do you do?"
"Anything you want. But no kissing on the mouth."
Blaine hums, still not sure what he wants, but Kurt's rubbing his dick through the thick material of his trousers and looking up at him all seductive innocence and he decides to just go with it. He arches up a bit, his eyes flicking to Kurt's lips, imagining them wrapped around his cock. Kurt takes that as a hint, kissing his way down Blaine's chest as his fingers quickly undo his belt and pants. Blaine's head falls back as his cock is pulled out and a condom is rolled on it.
(He's actually impressed; he never even heard Kurt open the package.)
Sex of any sort kind of sucks with a condom, but Blaine prefers to be safe and one can never be too safe when they're having sex with a prostitute. Kurt is good, though, his tongue tracing along the vein on the underside of his shaft, his cheeks hollowing with each bob of his head until Blaine starts getting close. He taps the back of Kurt's head. "Hey, wait-"
Kurt pulls off, his lips looking swollen in the flashing lights of the television. "Yeah?"
"I want to fuck you."
Kurt just smirks, standing and discarding his pants as quickly as he can, his dick hard and jutting proudly from his toned body. "I'm already stretched, so how do you want me?"
"Just like-" Blaine sits up, turning Kurt and helping him back up. His legs are spread on either side of Blaine's and he braces himself on the arms of the chair. Blaine holds his cock with one hand and uses the other to guide Kurt down until he's sinking over him, tight and wet; he feels so good. He holds Kurt steady as Kurt bounces on him, the muscles in his back flexing deliciously and his ass clenching tightly.
He goes until he's too tired to go any more and then Blaine pulls him flush against him, keeping their bodies connected as he stands. He bends Kurt over the arm of the sofa and grabs his hips. All he wants is release and he takes it, fucking Kurt hard, his hips pounding against Kurt's tight ass (seriously, that fucking ass is so amazing), leaving red marks on the pale skin. His fingers dig into the flesh and Blaine just hopes he doesn't leave any bruises that might cost Kurt customers.
He comes finally, shoving his hips forward one last time and filling the condom with a groan, his sweaty forehead pressed against Kurt's shoulder blade. "Fuck, Blaine, please?" Kurt whines, clenching around him and trying to press back. "I need to come, fuck-"
Blaine reaches around and grasps Kurt's dick, stroking it firmly several times and grinding his hips forward until Kurt cries out, coming on the side of the sofa.
"Shit, I'm sorry," he pants.
"Don't worry about it," Blaine replies, "I'll just have them put it on my bill."
Kurt chuckles until he winces when Blaine pulls out, holding the end of the condom. He ties it off easily and tosses it in a nearby trashcan. Kurt looks like he's dead on his feet (which makes sense when Blaine looks at the time; it was almost an hour and a half later), so Blaine picks him up, despite the awkwardness that their height differences present. The bedroom isn't far away and it's not too difficult to navigate his way there. He deposits Kurt onto the bed and watches as his eyes flutter shut.
With one last look, he steps into the bathroom and turns on the water to hot. After all that, he really needs a shower before he goes back to working.