UPDATE: Re-named "Behind Every Cloud..." and has now been FINISHED!
Fishing in his pocket for his
keys, Kurt had to take a tighter grip of the woman in his arms. That was when
he felt something pressed against his thigh that shouldn’t have been there.
“You’re a man?” Shock almost had him dropping
the guy; instinct had Kurt pulling him closer.
“I’m Sasha.” The slurred response
wasn’t an answer, but Kurt didn’t really need confirmation; it was now pretty
clear what Sasha was. And that’s when he ran into his second problem, because
as far as he could tell, the guy carried no identification.
With half a mind to take him back
to the club – after all, it was their responsibility to look after their
patrons – Kurt glanced down and saw Sasha looking up at him, his liquid grey
eyes imploring. Cursing the common courtesy his parents had instilled in him,
Kurt opened his car and carefully put Sasha in the passenger seat. After
climbing into the driver side he turned to the young man slumped beside him.
It was Kurt’s chance to get a
proper look at him. He was small, his features delicate and elf like. His hair
was long and worn loose down his back; the color an odd silvery grey. He also
wore a glittered silver top, black pants and flat ballet type shoes. It was
obvious Sasha was dressed to party, and though Kurt didn’t want to assume, it
also didn’t take much to realize Sasha was gay.
Trying not to let that affect his
judgment, Kurt shook Sasha’s shoulder to get his attention. “Are you okay?” he
asked.
“Nope, woozy.”
Kurt bit his lip, holding back on
the anger building inside. He knew this wasn’t Sasha’s fault; that Sasha had
been victimized, but a small part of him wondered if the young man hadn’t been
dressed the way he was, it wouldn’t have happened to him. In that same
instance, however, Kurt knew he was wrong to think that way. Sasha was a victim, plain and simple, no
matter how he dressed, or how he looked. At least he had the balls to look and
dress the way he wanted.
“I think you should go to a
hospital,” Kurt said, speaking slowly so Sasha would understand him, hoping
also that Sasha would agree with him.
“No, home,” he answered barely
above a whisper.
“Sasha, you’ve been drugged, and
I don’t know where you live,” Kurt carefully explained. He’d known whatever
Sasha had been slipped would limit his comprehension, but this was painful.
When Sasha merely looked at him, Kurt sighed. This wasn’t going to get him
anywhere, and even as he was thinking of possible alternatives, Sasha closed
his eyes and slipped further down into the seat. Knowing he was making a
mistake, even though he had no choice, Kurt started his car, and after
strapping himself and his uninvited guest in, he set of for his apartment.
It was only when he got there,
did he realize how much of a mistake
he was making. Sasha was completely unresponsive, so Kurt had to lift him out
of the car and carry him. He tried not to notice the light but firm body
cradled in his arms, or the long silky hair which got caught in his fingers,
but with each step it became more difficult, until it was a relief to finally
lay Sasha down on the bed in his spare room.
Looking down at him, Kurt’s
stomach clenched painfully. Damn, he was beautiful. His high cheekbones and
smooth skin coupled with his pretty pink lips and snub little nose made him
look more like a girl than he’d previously done while in the club. It was no
wonder Kurt had mistaken him as such. And of course, that stunning length of
hair had been a big contributor to his error. Distracted by it, he smoothed it
away from Sasha’s face, the backs of his fingers sliding softly against Sasha’s
graceful neck.
Forcing himself to stop mauling
the man, Kurt wondered what the hell he was supposed to do next. Was it safe to
leave Sasha here on his own, or was he going to have to watch over him? Knowing
what kind of strain that would put him under, Kurt decided to leave Sasha to
his own devices. At least Sasha’s breathing seemed stable, which put Kurt at
ease, but he lingered, unable to actually tear himself away from what was his
ultimate fantasy.
The silent pull of desire he was
trying hard to ignore almost had him reaching out to touch Sasha again.
Instead, Kurt grabbed the soft comforter to cover Sasha’s body, but Sasha chose
that moment to open his eyes and grab his hand.
“Don’t leave me, please.” His
voice pleaded, his eyes begged, and his fingers clutched with a desperation
Kurt was beginning to feel deep inside. “Sleep with me. I don’t want to be
alone.”
