Author's Note: Oh my, I had totally forgotten that I'd started this thing, haha. Just found it in my computer and thought, why not?

It just had to be written, lol. I haven't written next part but I'm on it! There'll be like… three chapters of this or something like that. Just a simple little thing really! Well, I hope you enjoy guys, I love you all!

. . . . .

Dancing in the dark.

Blaine had no idea why on earth he was doing this. Well no, he did kind of know. He was desperate. There was no other explanation for this, but it didn't in any way justify what he was about to do. He was blushing as he was walking, so embarrassed, but he couldn't will his feet to stop and turn around. God, he felt so ashamed. Why was he doing this again? It wasn't as if someone was forcing him to do it. He just desperately needed to get off; he hadn't had an orgasm in weeks. For some reason he just wasn't able to come and he was blaming his lack of imagination for it. In the past he'd been able to make up hot guys by the minute, jerking off to mental images of said guys sucking his dick. Lately though, he just wasn't able to do it. It wasn't a secret that Blaine had become rather depressed lately, staying at home instead of going out to meet his friends, and he just couldn't find peace when he was curled up in his bed by himself, wishing he had someone to just hold him. He was lonely, lonely and frustrated. But could that be a reason for him not being able to get a good orgasm lately? He did not know, he had no idea why. He just knew he was desperate for that feeling to come back and that was the reason for his trembling hand reaching for the door handle of 'Club Gaysha'. He stepped in and swallowed nervously. The music was loud and made his heart thump hard to the beat and the lightning was dim, people scattered all around but most of them were seated in front of the big stage at the other end of the room. He paid the ridiculous entrance fee and headed in the direction of the stage. There were lots of rich bald men in suits staring up at the stage appreciatively and Blaine tried to not be repulsed by them as he made his way towards the seats. There was one available right at the front and Blaine sat down slowly, feeling so ashamed of himself that he nearly closed his eyes. Instead he looked up towards the stage to see a young man dance extravagantly. He was grinding up against a pole, his eyes staring blankly out towards his audience. Some of the rich men catcalled and one of them threw money up on the stage. Blaine felt sick to his stomach, not at all aroused, but he forced himself to stay in his seat. The guy that was dancing finally got of the stage and was replaced by another, this one looking even more depressing. He was so thin that he looked as though he would break a bone if he did a much too complicated dance step, his eyes even more blank. Blaine stayed seated after the third and fourth guy, getting more and more uneasy until he'd finally had it. Sure they were all good looking, but he just couldn't get hard by seeing people look so… miserable. He made a move to leave his seat, bracing his hands onto his knees, when the stage was yet again occupied by a new guy. Someone in the audience roared "Woah, Ontario!" appreciatively, but Blaine almost didn't catch it. With an audible gasp he slumped back into his seat as he stared up at the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. He was dressed in short black hotpants, high black boots and a black vest, without a shirt under it. His whole body was glowing with some kind of body glitter and he smirked as he stepped out on the edge of the stage, knowing exactly how good-looking he was. Ontario, which Blaine seriously doubted was his real name, let his eyes travel over the audience for a few seconds before they settled with looking into Blaine's. Blaine's hands clenched into fists, those piercing blue eyes were radiating as they stared into his, causing Blaine to tremble slightly. This man's eyes were not blank with numbness or drugs, they were alive and powerful. Blaine was almost certain that this man did this because he liked it, and not because he had to. Ontario winked at him flirtingly before he left and backed up on the stage a tiny bit. Then he started dancing. He started slowly, wiggling his hips teasingly while stroking his inner thighs.

"Oh god!" Blaine groaned and felt a shock of surprise as he realised he was actually getting hard. Ontario was biting his lip as he grabbed the pole with one hand and swirled around it once before he lifted one leg and grinded his crotch against the pole as he slid down, face scrunching up at the friction. Blaine was sweating and he moaned quietly as Ontario started popping he buttons of his vest, and then his chest was visible. He was thin, but not near as skeleton-like as that second guy had been, and the curve of his waist was perfect. Blaine had to resist his growing urge to palm himself over his jeans, needing the friction like he needed air. Ontario was grinding much faster and harder against the pole now, looking out towards the audience the whole time, his eyes meeting Blaine's every so often. And then he let go of the pole and danced towards the edge of the stage, sliding his vest of his shoulders and throwing it away as he went. When he was right at the edge, he sat down on his knees, spreading his legs wide apart. And then he locked his eyes with Blaine's. Blaine groaned, resisting his urge to let his eyes flutter close, he never wanted to let go of the connection he just had with those bright blue orbs. Ontario brought his hands to each nipple, rolling them between his fingers, causing his mouth to fall open. All the while he was rocking in his knees to the rhythm of the music, looking as if he was humping the floor. His eyes never left Blaine's as he slid one hand down, down, down his sweaty chest to palm himself through those tight hotpants. Both Blaine and Ontario finally broke their eye contact as Ontario threw his head back at the sensation while Blaine's eyes finally fluttered close. He couldn't watch this anymore, he was going to come right in his pants. But he couldn't keep his eyes away either so he opened them again slowly, as if in agony, only to find Ontario standing up, his back towards the audience. He was leaning forward, almost bending over but not quite, so that his ass was exposed at a very hot angle, and he wiggled it seductively. He looked over his shoulder through his eyelashes and yet again his eyes found Blaine's. Blaine moaned as Ontario bit his lip hard and slid his hands between his thighs slowly. Then he was suddenly on his back on the floor, his hand palming his cock as he grinded his hips up into it in time with the music. Blaine was nearly hyperventilating in his chair by this point. Jesus fucking Christ that man up there was sexy. But there was something more to him, he looked so warm and alive. He looked as though he was having the time of his life up on that stage, all eyes on him and Blaine felt such a need to get to know that person. Who was he and why had he chosen the path of pole dancing? It made no sense, he was so brilliant and fantastic and shit, Blaine didn't even know him. Maybe he was a cheap hooker. But he didn't look it. He looked genuine and sweet and almost innocent, even if this dancing proved it completely wrong. Blaine couldn't think badly of him. Suddenly, Ontario jumped up and slapped his own ass a few times as the song was echoing away, and then it was over. Ontario was smiling broadly, his chest heaving heavily as he breathed and Blaine could see that he sweating. He pouted his lips towards the audience and blew them a kiss, looked into Blaine's eyes and winked at him before strutting backstage. Blaine stared after him dumbfounded for a minute before the stage was re-entered by a huge tan man, earning even more catcalls and roars than Ontario had. Blaine snapped back into reality, the huge tan man not interesting him in the least. He flew up from his seat and rushed to the exit, earning a few odd glances. He almost ran the whole way back to his apartment which fortunately was situated just around the corner from the club. He'd been teased about that countless times by his colleges at work. They found it hilarious that he was gay and lived around the corner of one of the most exclusive gay-strip-clubs in New York. He'd tried to laugh along with them in the beginning but now it just wasn't fun anymore. Well, right now he was pretty damn happy that he lived so close since he had a rather urgent need that he had to take care of. He dashed through the entrance, waited in agony for the elevator to reach his floor, number 6, and raced into his apartment. He almost ripped his own jeans away in his urge to get them off, to relieve him from the awful pressure against his aching erection. He breathed out in relief when he finally got them off him, talking off his underwear as well as he moved towards his bed. He sat down on the edge and moaning loudly as he finally let himself touch. He stroked up and down himself with his fingertips teasingly a few times before taking his cock in his hand and started working. He began slowly, the image of Ontario still etched onto his closed eyelids. He imagined those perfect, soft-looking lips kissing down his stomach before taking him in deep, sucking hard and fast. Blaine's hand sped up, rubbing the head with his thumb every so often. He imagines Ontario's cheeks hollowing as he let Blaine fuck his mouth, his eyes locked with Blaine's. Blaine groaned just at the thought of those eyes, and followed with a whimper as he imagined those eyes, pupils dilated and lust blown as he sucked and licked at Blaine.

"Ohgodmmm" Blaine moaned, going even faster, feeling so so close. He imagined Ontario cupping his balls, massaging them as Blaine did that to himself. He thrust hard into his hand once, twice more before he came with a cry. He came harder than he'd ever come from a hand job before, spraying all over his stomach and fist. He kept pumping until he was completely soft, eyes squeezed together so tight they hurt and breathing ragged. It took him very long to come down from that high, and he sighed to himself as he went for the shower, already scanning his brain for the next time he could make it down to the club. He just had to see that angel of a man again, he just had to.

. . . . .

What Blaine didn't know was that down in his loge at Club Gaysha, Kurt Hummel was calming himself down after an equally mind-blowing orgasm. He'd had to go to the bathroom immediately after leaving the stage, telling people he was having a bit of a queasy tummy so that they would leave him alone. He almost felt frightened. In the two years he'd spent working as an 'exotic dancer', he'd never even once gotten hard before. It was something about that man's eyes. The way he'd looked at Kurt so adoringly, so much more than just lust shining out of those hazel-gold eyes, as if he saw the man behind the mask. Kurt couldn't believe it, and what did this even mean? Had his walls against those perverts finally broken? Would he get hard every time he danced now? And most importantly, would that gorgeous man come back? He'd never seen him there before; he would've noticed someone that good looking, so maybe this was just a one time only thing? Kurt hoped he would be back though. He hoped with all his heart and soul, because what he was feeling right now was a feeling he very much wanted to feel again. And again and again. He knew he was being ridiculous, but there had been something there, Kurt had felt it. A tiny spark had been lit between hazel-gold and bright blue gazes.

. . . . .

Bwahaha lol, this is ridiculous. I'm not sure if I liked this first part so much though, but my plans for this are very nice, I think ;) Hopefully you liked it and want to see more. Also, sorry if the club and the dancing was unrealistic or something. I can safely say that I have no freaking idea of how they do stuff like that in real life, haha. But I do know there's a gay club in Stockholm called Gaysha. I stole the name, lol. Anyway, hope you liked this and please review if you did. Update will be coming shortly. *lessthanthree*