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Take On Me

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A quiet night at home with a good book and a cup of hot green tea was the perfect night for Blaine Anderson. That, however, didn’t happen. Blaine was in his living room, about to sip his tea, when the door to his apartment swung open. Normally, that would startle him and cause him to spill whatever he was drinking, or whatever he was eating, all over his shirt and part of his pants. Now, though, he just took a sip and then set it on his coffee table as the person who had rudely stormed into his apartment shut the door behind him and sat on the couch beside Blaine, uninvited.

“Blaine? Look at me.” Blaine turned to his lifelong friend - though that title was sometimes questionable - Noah Puckerman. “And don’t look at me like that.” Blaine looked at him with his eyebrow furrowed and his mouth in half a frown.

“I’m looking at you. Now, what do you want? I have a very busy night ahead of me,” Blaine said in an impatient voice. It was true. To Blaine, a book was a busy night. Perhaps later, there would be an order of Chinese food, and maybe ice cream. Noah looked at Blaine and rolled his eyes.

“Your divorce was final two weeks ago. Have you even stepped out of this hole you call an apartment?” Noah asked with a dramatic gesture to Blaine’s living room space. Blaine resented that notion. He’d had his apartment for about five months and he loved it. It was a single room with a nice and spacious living room. His kitchen was small and narrow, but since it was just for him, he didn’t care. He had a sliding glass door to a balcony that was narrow but big enough for a chair and left space for him to lean it back and rest his feet on the railing. He had a great view of New York City.

At night, he would take his tea outside and watch the traffic. The buildings were bright and the noise of horns honking and muffled music was soothing to him. It was probably the big highlight in his life since the divorce process began between him and Bradley.

Blaine and Bradley had been married for three years when Bradley said that he wanted a divorce. The reasoning was ludicrous. He told Blaine that he was unhappy and kept it to himself the last year of their marriage. After a few nights of talking and pleading that perhaps they could try to get counseling, Blaine chose to move out of their apartment and stayed with a friend before finding his own apartment. He found out that Bradley being unhappy meant that he was seeing someone on the side and that person moved in just after Blaine moved out.

The bright side of the divorce was that neither one had any property to split or children to share custody. The only conversation that happened between Bradley and Blaine were confirmations that papers were signed and sent off. Blaine didn’t bring up the affair, and neither did Bradley. It took a lot of persuasion on Blaine’s part for Noah not to go to Bradley’s apartment force his nose into his face. While it was funny for Blaine to imagine, he pleaded with Noah to let it go so that he could move forward with his life. Noah complied, but he made it clear that he didn’t like it one bit.

When the day arrived that Blaine got the finalized papers, it really dawned on him that he wasn’t married anymore. He was no longer part of someone’s life. That someone had tossed him aside like an old sock and found someone new. His heart truly shattered. He remembered sitting in the middle of his couch with the folded stapled divorce papers resting in his lap. Before he knew it, his door opened. He debated heavily on maybe locking his door from now on, but he was glad he hadn’t that night. His two best girls, Mercedes Jones and Quinn Fabray, came to the apartment with three gallons of his top three favorite flavors of ice cream: Cookies and cream, chocolate chip cookie dough, and fudge brownie.

It was a process. He and Bradley had been separated from each other for a lot longer than they were officially divorced. It wasn’t that Blaine wanted him back, but he hadn’t even thought of looking at another guy, not even for a cup of coffee. He wondered how easy it had been for Bradley to find someone to replace Blaine. Maybe it hadn’t been so hard, since the relationship had been going on while they were still married.

“I’ll have you know that I have stepped out of this apartment quite a few times,” Blaine said matter-of-factly.

“Other than work, doing your laundry, going on your runs, and grocery shopping, name one time you stepped out of this apartment for fun?” Noah challenged. Well, he had Blaine there. Did going to the bookstore count? What about going for a walk? Granted, Blaine had never been the party type, not even during his college days. Noah had practically made it his mission to get Blaine plastered or go to some club to loosen up. Blaine was plenty loosened up. That’s what he always said to Noah.

“Noah…” Blaine said in a long and drawn out voice. It mostly sounded like a whine, but Blaine didn’t care. He wanted to read his book and drink his tea, which was probably lukewarm by now.

“Mercedes and Quinn will be here soon. Go get dressed. We are taking you to a very special place,” Noah said with a suggestive tone that was very unsettling to Blaine. The last time Noah used that voice, he took Blaine to a Chippendale Show in Las Vegas for his bachelor party. It was an experience Blaine would never forget. And it was amusing to see how into the show Noah really was. There was a chance that Noah liked the show more than Blaine, though he’d never admit it.

“I’m not going to Vegas,” Blaine declared.

“Hell no. It’s a little bit of a drive, but I promise, it’s not in Vegas. Go get dressed!” Blaine looked down at his attire. He was wearing a T-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. He was way too comfortable to get off the couch and change into jeans.

“Don’t wanna,” he mumbled like a child refusing to go to bed at his normal bedtime. Noah didn’t have to convince Blaine to get up from the couch. The sound of the door opening and two sets of footsteps coming into Blaine’s apartment would do the trick.

“Boy, get your ass off that couch before you take root,” Mercedes demanded. “We are going to a very exclusive club and trust me, you will want to be dressed for it.”

“I don’t do clubs. You all know this,” Blaine stated. Quinn plopped herself right next to Blaine.

“Trust me, you’ll love this. It'll help you to get out more,” Quinn said gently. Quinn was always more gentle, while Mercedes was incredibly forward and blunt.

“So, let’s get your cute tush off the couch and into some jeans,” Mercedes said as she fumbled with Blaine’s curly hair.

“You’re not taking me to a strip club, are you?” Blaine asked timidly. Quinn’s grin widened.

“It is a strip club…but it’s not in a strip club,” Quinn explained. Blaine didn’t move from the couch. He turned to Puck.

“You’re going to a male strip club?” Blaine asked. Puck shrugged.

“I want to buy you a lap dance and damnit, I will buy you a lap dance! Now get up and let’s go!” Puck nearly yelled as if he were yelling at a cadet. That tone could intimidate passers-by and maybe other people, but Blaine always saw nothing but gentle puppy eyes. Puck didn’t mind. Blaine was his best friend. He didn’t want his best friend to be afraid of him. Blaine sighed in defeat as he got up from the couch and headed straight to his room to change clothes. He knew when it was pointless to argue, and truth be told, he did want to get out of the apartment for a while. He had been alone with his thoughts too many times.

What did one wear to a strip club that wasn’t a strip club? Blaine pondered that. What exactly did Quinn mean by that? Five minutes later, Blaine emerged from his room dressed in a Hogwarts T-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. Puck examined Blaine.

“THAT’S what you’re wearing?” Puck asked. Blaine looked at his attire. The shirt wasn’t wrinkled, the pants didn’t smell, what was the problem? Mercedes came to his defense right away.

“What he’s wearing is just fine. Trust me, nobody will be watching him dance anyway,” Mercedes said.

“Thanks…I think,” Blaine mumbled. Quinn clapped her hands once and head to the door.

“Enough chatter. We have to get going. Don’t mind all the cackling women. There will be some guys there too.” Blaine groaned. Great, he thought. Not only are his friends talking him into going to a strip club, but he didn’t take into mind that it was a strip club women would attend to see men dance.

“I really don’t know about this…” Blaine said timidly. Apparently, Puck was ready for that to come. He put his hands on Blaine’s shoulders.

“Just give it a shot for…an hour? One hour and if you are uncomfortable after that, we will leave and bring you back here. Deal?” Puck asked. There was one thing about Puck that Blaine liked. Whenever he made a deal or a promise, he always kept it. Blaine sighed and agreed to it. Before he knew it, they were out of the apartment.




Quinn explained to Blaine where they were heading. It was a dance/strip club that was outside of the city. It was inside of a luxurious house so there was plenty of room to roam, and plenty of rooms for private dances. The club was run by two people; one of them a man named Elliot Gilbert whom was a friend of Quinn’s.

“Elliot is a great guy. I told him about your situation and he insisted that we bring you there. A lot of people go to his club after a break-up and/or a divorce. It’s the place to be if you want to escape and feel desired again. That’s how he puts it. It’s for men and women. There is a house where there are women strippers, and his friend Dani runs that one. Puck will probably disappear to that place.” Puck lifted his fist into the air briefly before he put it back on the steering wheel. He was the one driving them to the place.

“I just don’t know about this,” Blaine mumbled.

“You will when we get there, trust me,” Mercedes said with a knowing gleam in her voice. Before they knew it, Puck pulled into an empty place where loud music erupted from a house and cars were parked in every direction. Blaine saw a group of women and a few men make their way toward the house. Women were wearing skimpy dresses and tight shorts. Men wore buttoned shirts or tight muscle shirts.

Blaine felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb in his nerdy outfit. Quinn pulled him out of the car and walked with him toward the house. Lights shined in every which direction and the full blast of the music hit Blaine once he stepped over the threshold.

“I’m going over there!” Mercedes yelled, but Blaine barely heard her. She pointed to a highly muscular dark skinned man who was rolling his stomach and slowly stripping off his shirt. He was definitely hot, but too muscular for Blaine’s taste. He couldn’t be with someone who looked like they could snap him like a twig when they tried to hug each other. Mercedes strutted over there and enjoyed the view in front of her.

“That’s not Elliot,” Quinn said to Blaine. Puck showed up behind Blaine and shoved some money in his pocket.

“That’s my lap dance money. I’m out of here. I prefer boobs over penis. I better hear a great story from you by the end of the night,” Puck said and gave Blaine a half hug before he rushed out of the house. Blaine sighed. He pulled two twenties out of his pocket. He thought for a moment. He could very well have made himself forty bucks. He put the money back in his pocket as Quinn brought him closer to the house. There were different parts of the house that were occupied with dancers. Before him was a long staircase, but there was nobody dancing on them. Blaine wondered if those were for private dancers only.

“The night is young! All of the good boys and girls have gone to bed. Tonight is for the rest of us!” A man with a microphone yelled as the crowd cheered along with him. Blaine saw him come out of a room and making his way down the stairway. He wore a tight vest with no shirt and had dark tattoos up and down his arms. He looked over toward Blaine and Quinn and smiled. He reached for his face and did a click as he rushed toward Quinn.

“Quinn! My darling!” he said as he wrapped his arms around her and picked her up in a tight and enthusiastic hug. The man wore a fedora tilted to his right side and had dark eyeliner on. Not a bad look. He certainly pulled it off. Quinn laughed as she accepted the hug. As soon as the guy had put her down, Quinn turned to Blaine.

“Blaine? This is Elliot Gilbert,” she introduced. Elliot smiled at Blaine and gave him a friendly half hug. Blaine could feel his gaze up and down his body. Blaine didn’t think of himself as unattractive, but he didn’t think of himself as the kind of guy that every man and woman gave a second look. Elliot certainly gave Blaine a second and third look.

“Oh my god! You are fucking adorable! I’m so glad Quinn was able to bring you here. Divorce, right?” Elliot asked gently. Blaine just nodded. Elliot shook his head.

“Sweetheart, the man who would leave you is a complete twat! I’ve had my fair share of heartbreaks myself. I don’t want you to think about that tonight.” Elliot clicked on the microphone that was near his mouth.

“My ladies and men of the evening! One of the things I most pride myself on in this place, is the fact that it is a place to not think about the pain we go through outside there!” Elliot said as he pointed out the door. The music slowed and some of the men and women went silent. Most gave shouts of agreement as Elliot backed away slowly to the stair case. He gestured for Blaine to come to him.

Blaine hesitated, but Quinn stayed beside him.

“This place is a place to feel desired and wanted. Blaine? Please come to me,” Elliot encouraged. There was no pressure. His voice was soothing and so gentle that Blaine couldn’t help himself but walk toward him. Elliot put his arm around Blaine’s shoulders.

“Heartbreak is unfortunate and horrible. I know all about it, but I can’t imagine the kind of heartbreak a divorce causes. Tell me, Blaine. What do you like? What makes your body and mind surrender?” Elliot asked. He pulled out a portable microphone from the back of his pocket and held it to Blaine’s mouth. Blaine licked his bottom lip and stayed silent for a moment. He looked at Quinn then, back at Elliot.

“Music,” Blaine answered. Elliot grinned as he took the microphone away.

“Ahh, that is a good answer. And I wholeheartedly agree. There is nothing like that perfect song that makes you have that perfect out of body experience. I want to help you, Blaine. You need to forget about that shit of a man who thought divorcing you was a good idea. I want you to remember that you are absolutely adorable, and you are the perfect man for someone. Am I right?” There was a round of applause and whistles. Blaine felt his cheeks burn and was grateful that the place was dark enough that nobody noticed.

“Now, who will be the perfect one to make your body and mind surrender?” Elliot asked as he contemplated. Elliot was going to pick Blaine’s dancer.

“I will,” an angelic voice said. Elliot grinned as he turned toward the top of the stairway. Blaine followed his gaze and saw a man with pale skin and bright blue eyes. He slowly made his way down the stairway. He wore a black muscle shirt and jeans. His hair was auburn and neatly styled.

“Kurt has claimed you. Will you accept him?” Elliot asked. Kurt. That was his name and Blaine couldn’t stop staring at him. He made it to the bottom of the stairs and held out his hand for Blaine. Again, there was no pressure. Elliot asked if Blaine wanted it. He didn’t just assume or push him into it. It was a question and the option to say no was there. But Blaine didn’t want to say no. Those ocean blue eyes that shined so bright against the faint light stared at Blaine and beckoned him to come.

Blaine slowly held out his hand and put it in Kurt’s. His hands were cool and as soft as velvet. His thumb caressed Blaine’s knuckles.

“Come with me. What I have planned for you does not include an audience,” Kurt declared. There were some hoots, but Blaine didn’t hear any of them. He let Kurt guide him up the stairway. Blaine could have sworn he heard Mercedes shout encouragements from behind him.

“Let yourself go, Blaine,” Elliot said one last time before Kurt took Blaine into a private room and shut the door behind them.




The room had a view of the far off city. There was a long sofa and the lights were dim. There was a click noise behind him. Kurt must have locked the door. There was no key. It was just a deadbolt. Which meant that if Blaine wanted to leave, the option was there, but that nobody else come and interrupt them. Blaine’s heart raced as he turned back to Kurt. The lights dimmed more until it was nearly dark. The only light was from the bright light bulbs from another room and the lights from the window.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Kurt said gently. Blaine settled himself in the middle of the sofa. It was comfortable and soft. Kurt smiled as if it pleased him that Blaine chose the sofa.

“I’m gonna play the music. The only thing I request is, unless I give you permission, you cannot touch,” Kurt said. At least that part from any movies Blaine saw was true.

“Of course…I’m all about consent,” Blaine said lamely. Kurt chuckled.

“You are cute. Before we begin, I love the shirt. From one nerd to another,” Kurt stated. Blaine smiled, and Kurt decided he liked that smile. That smile had to be on Blaine’s face for the rest of the evening. Blaine didn’t pay much attention to the song Kurt chose. He moved along with the song.

“Is there anything I should know?” Kurt asked as he slowly bent down and straddled Blaine’s lap.

“What do you mean?” Blaine asked.

“I’ll be doing a lot of touching, to an extent of course. I’m actually very much looking forward to exploring you. The last thing I want to is go beyond your comfort zone. So, is there anything you want me to…” Kurt explained and Blaine understood.

“Oh, no. I don’t want to strip off my own clothes, of course,” Blaine somewhat joked, but Kurt smiled at him. “So…explore away and I promise, no touching.” Kurt nodded.

“Good to know. You have such beautiful hair. I’ll be combing my fingers through it a lot, if that’s okay. I, too, am all about consent.”

Blaine chuckled.

“That’s okay with me,” Blaine whispered. There was a comfortable silence between them as Kurt slowly started to dance in Blaine’s lap. Kurt’s hips rolled up slowly against Blaine’s stomach as Kurt bent backward then slowly forward. His hands glided through Blaine’s hair, feeling every soft strand against his fingertips. Blaine was immediately grateful that he decided against the hair gel.

Blaine crept his hands underneath the cushions of the couch. It was difficult not to touch Kurt. It was difficult not to run his hands over Kurt’s bare arms. He wasn’t overly muscular like Mercedes’ dream dancer was, but he was still built. Blaine wondered if Kurt’s arms were as soft as his hands. His jeans were so tight that they looked like they were painted on. His shirt was just as tight, so that Blaine could see Kurt’s muscles ripple underneath.

Kurt arched his back slowly and in a swift movement, he had his back against Blaine. It was such a sudden move that Blaine was sure it had been some sort of illusion. Kurt leaned his back against Blaine’s chest as he slowly, ever so slowly, rolled his hips. He leaned his head back so that his cheek touched Blaine’s. Once more, Kurt’s fingers found Blaine’s hair and gave it a swift tug. Not hard, but just enough that Kurt’s fingers curled into a fist of Blaine’s curls.

This was almost too much. Blaine had no idea how much time had passed, but if Kurt kept going the way he was now, Kurt was going to feel just how much Blaine was enjoying the dance. He wished he had worn looser jeans. Blaine hadn’t expected to enjoy this so much. Hell, he hadn’t expected to even get a dance. He’d only planned on walking around and then after that one hour was up, he would have dragged Puck back to the car and demanded to be taken home.

Kurt pushed himself off of Blaine’s lap, much to Blaine’s dismay, so that he could straddle him again. Slowly, Kurt took the collar of his shirt and slowly pulled it apart. The muscle shirt was designed so that Kurt could pull it apart without tearing it. Blaine got to see Kurt’s upper body revealed to him; like slowly unwrapping a much anticipated birthday present.

It was perfection. Kurt’s upper body was a sight of pure beauty. The shirt was discarded in some unknown direction as Kurt stood on the couch where his hips met with Blaine’s face. Kurt took a hold of his hair again and rolled his hips along with the music.

That did it.

As soon as Kurt sat back down onto Blaine’s lap, he knew Kurt could feel how excited he was. Blaine shut his eyes and curled his fingers into the cushions. He wanted to touch him so much. How could Kurt just dance that way and not feel excited himself? With as much experience as Kurt might have, perhaps he was accustomed to it.

Wasn’t he?

“Open your eyes, please.” Kurt’s breath tickled Blaine’s. Something poked Blaine against his stomach. He resisted the urge to see what it was, but he had a feeling he knew exactly what it was.

Blaine wasn’t the only one excited.

“I love a standing ovation,” Kurt whispered. Blaine gave a breathy laugh, but he was still a little embarrassed. “I’m about to break one of my rules…but I believe you’re worth it.”

“Am I?” Blaine whispered back. Kurt smiled as he reached for one of Blaine’s hands and pulled it from under the cushion. He slowly brought Blaine’s hand to his bare chest.

He was touching Kurt’s chest; his beautiful, bare and hard chest.

“Will you stand up for me?” Kurt asked. Blaine nodded as Kurt stood and tugged Blaine up with him. That’s when Kurt grabbed Blaine’s other hand and put it against his bare skin.

“You feel so soft,” Blaine said. Kurt smiled as he gently pushed Blaine up against the wall. Blaine wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t going to argue because he got to touch Kurt.

“Your hands are warm. I’m always cold,” Kurt commented as he rolled his hips against Blaine.

“I’ve always been hot natured,” Blaine said. It was true. He may get cold a lot, but his body always radiated heat. Whenever someone put their hands against his skin, it was like having a cold pack against him. And for the other person, it was like a heating pad. Kurt’s skin was cold, but it felt incredible against Blaine’s hands.

“I believe that. I want to make you feel special. You’re the only one I’ve let touch me during a dance,” Kurt whispered. He slowly bent down as he caressed his hands up and down Blaine’s legs and up his chest. At that moment, Blaine thought about begging Kurt to remove his own shirt.

“It wasn’t easy to keep from touching you. You’re stunning,” Blaine said breathlessly. Kurt slowly snaked his body up Blaine’s and his hips locked with Blaine’s once again.

“You’re the stunning one,” Kurt said as he took Blaine’s hands and pushed them against the wall, over Blaine’s head. Kurt had his wrists pinned and Blaine enjoyed it immensely. Again, something else Kurt never did with any other man. His hips rolled against Blaine’s, and Blaine couldn’t stop his body from responding with a rocking motion that made  a soft moan escape his throat.

“Don’t stop,” Blaine begged. Kurt growled. That shouldn’t have done so much to him, but it did.

“I should stop…” Kurt admitted without thinking about it. Blaine didn’t respond to that comment. Blaine clenched his fists as Kurt practically pushed his wrists further against the wall. Kurt groaned against the nape of Blaine’s neck. Blaine thought maybe he would feel the movement of Kurt’s lips against neck. He hoped for it anyway.

A coiling feeling brewed at the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t felt that in a long time. Even when Blaine was separated from Bradley, he couldn’t bring himself to masturbate even when he wanted to have some sort of release. He couldn’t even sit through a horribly recorded porn video. This was so different.

“Kurt…” Blaine moaned. The sound of Kurt’s name was so delicious. Kurt refrained from tasting Blaine’s skin. His forehead pressed against Blaine’s as he rolled his hips longer and harder.

This was wrong. Kurt would be in so much trouble. He always found a way to control himself or stop the dance when it got too far, but the need to please Blaine and hear his moans just a little longer was so powerful. They breathed heavily as Blaine’s body shuddered first, letting out a relieved moan. Kurt loosened his grip on Blaine’s wrists. Kurt wanted release as well, but that need would come later. The feel of tension leaving Blaine’s body and his relaxed breathing rhythm was so much more satisfying.

They stared at each other in comfortable, exhausted silence. Kurt looked into those honey colored eyes. They were warm and inviting. There was no hint of regret or embarrassment.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Kurt breathed.

“I won’t tell…if you won’t,” Blaine whispered. Kurt smiled as he pulled his forehead away from Blaine’s and released his wrists. “And yes…you should have, by the way.” Kurt chuckled a little.

“I really shouldn’t have. It was against the rules,” Kurt admitted. Blaine found his footing and grunted a little from the slight discomfort.

“I won’t say anything. Thank you, though. You have no idea how much I…well, I liked it.” Kurt could see a hint of red on Blaine’s cheeks.

“You are too adorable for words. We should…collect ourselves and get out of here,” Kurt suggested. Blaine agreed. He wanted to stay in his blissful cloud for a little while longer.




Blaine left the room first and went to look for Quinn and Mercedes. He found Mercedes as soon as he hit the bottom of the stairs. Quinn was outside flirting with one of the other male dancers. Quinn noticed a bit of difference in Blaine. He no longer looked timid or hesitant. He looked relaxed and almost glowing.

“All of this action made me hungry. I have Puck’s keys,” Quinn said. Blaine and Mercedes agreed. They would come back for Puck later, maybe.