Blaine

*Just a quick note. This is my first story, so I'm still feeling out my writing style, therefore the sex scenes are few, but they are there. Comments are welcome. If this goes over well, I already have the second part planned out in my head and in some rough notes. And if I do write the second one, I promise some more erotic parts. I was mainly focused on the plot this time around. And I apologize if this is riddled with typos. I'll use an editor next time. I hope you enjoy*

Blaine squirmed in his seat. His legs were jittering with the urge to run. He did a quick review of his life; he couldn't think of a more awkward situation. A sharp jab to the ribs told him his friend was aware of his drifting mind. He shot a sideways glance at his friend - or ex-friend, after tonight - then let his eyes settle on the atrocity unfolding in front of him. Rixon had dragged him here promising an amazing show. The play turned out to be a poorly directed and acted version of Pocahontas. He and Rixon were the only ones there above the age of six that weren't parents.

Not only did children make Blaine uncomfortable, but watching people make fools of themselves just made him want to close his eyes and be very, very far away.

Blaine began to scramble out of his seat and head for the nearest exit just as Pocahontas emerged from a cardboard tree. Rixon grabbed his wrist and yanked him back down into the hard, plastic seat. "Blaine," Rixon hissed, "You promised you'd stay." He looked up at Blaine with his big blue eyes and batted his fine, strawberry blonde lashes at his friend.

"I only said that when I was under the pretense of seeing an actual, adult play. So put those big puppy eyes away and I'll wait for you out by the car," Blaine whispered and jumped out of his seat when Rixon's grip slipped. He darted toward the exit and gulped a big breath of cold, city air as he slipped out the door. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and headed toward his car, staring up at the dark, smog-ridden sky that he was so familiar with.

Blaine rested his hand against the back window of his car- his baby. He'd saved two years to get it, and he couldn't help but love it more and more every time he saw it. It was a 2006 Dodge Charger, a pretty light gray that his heart just soaked up. He leaned against the door and swept his eyes over the street. A light tapping noise was making its way down the road. He squinted into the darkness as the sound grew closer. Then, all of a sudden, there was a black figure charging into view. It was a boy, his arms bent at perfect ninety-degree angles. The boy must do track, Blaine thought. Most casual joggers didn't have a runner's form like that.

Something was glistening in the boy's hand, dimly reflecting the street lamps yellow light. Blaine squinted his eyes, trying to focus in on the object. It was a knife, he realized, and his heart did a little flip. It was a big knife, at least eight inches. What was a boy doing running down the street with a knife like that? Blaine stepped onto the sidewalk and leaned against the hood of his car. He watched as the boy got closer. He was wearing all black, his hood pulled up to conceal his face. As the boy started to zigzag in his run, Blaine realized with a start that the boy was being pursued. There were five or six dark figures gaining on him.

Blaine stood up straight, shifting his weight on his feet slightly as he tried to think. A teeth-shattering bang woke him up. The boy was being shot at now. He had to help. Blaine threw his arms up to flag the boy down.

"Hey! Over here, I can help!", he yelled, waving his arms. When the boy changed direction and started heading straight for him, Blaine fished his keys out of his pocket, unlocked the car and slid in. As he started the engine, a thud made him look up. The boy was sliding across the hood of his car. He yanked the door open and threw himself into the passenger's seat.

"Drive," the boy said. His calm, even voice gave Blaine chills. How could he be so calm when a crazed gang was chasing him down? How could he not be out of breath after running like that for who knows how long? Blaine shook his head and slammed his foot down on the clutch, threw the car into first gear and took off, sending both boys flying back against the seats. He drove over the sidewalk and took a hard right, quickly working his way through the gears. In a few seconds they were going ninety down Kent St.

When they were a few blocks away Blaine slowed down a little, his fingers were trembling on the shifter. He glanced over at the boy sitting in his car. He still had his hood up; Blaine could only see a few stray black hairs against dark skin. The knife had vanished. Blaine cleared his throat as he turned down Clark St to avoid a red light.

"What was that about?" he said, relieved that he didn't sound as pumped up or nervous as he felt.

The boy had his eyes fixed on the road. He didn't say a word.

"Where do you want to go?" Blaine tried.

"Just drive." Blaine realized then that the boy had a slight Mexican accent. He couldn't help the pleasurable shiver that ran through him. He had a thing for Latinos.

Blaine did as he was told. They drove for what Blaine thought to be close to an hour. They ended up at a parking garage on the north side of town. Blaine killed the engine and turned in his seat. He studied his passenger quietly and waited for him to speak. He waited for a thank you, or an explanation. Or a sign that he was awake... Blaine furrowed his eyebrows. Was he sleeping? He reached over to pull the hood away from the boy's face, but a hand shot up and his wrist was enveloped by long, cold fingers. A little gasp jumped into his lungs as the boy turned toward him.

"I would appreciate it if you kept your hands to yourself," the boy said quietly.

At Blaine's nod, the boy released his wrist. Blaine rubbed it absently as he watched the boy. All he could see was a well-rounded chin and a pierced nose. The boy clearly worked out, you could see his muscles even through his baggy hoodie. The boy was probably a few inches taller than Blaine, definitely more built. The boy turned his attention to the thick leather belt around his waist. There were all sorts of weapons sheathed in it. A nervous rush swept over Blaine and his brain started screaming.

This was stupid. You picked up a stranger, a stranger that was being chased and shot at, and drove off into the night. He must have done something to upset those men. What if he was the bad guy? Blaine pulled his key out of the ignition and held it between his middle and index finger like he'd been taught in Drivers Ed. at school just years ago. It could be used as a weapon that way.

He caught the boy's thick lips quirk up into a smile at the corner. Or he thought so. The garage was so dimly lit he could hardly see as far as the hood of his car.

"I won't hurt you, chico," the boy said. There was a slight purr in his voice as the Spanish rolled off his tongue.

"I know!" Blaine said, trying to act exasperated.

The boy chuckled. "You'll need to ditch your car for a few days. They'll be looking for it." Those words had Blaine gaping.

"There's no way. I won't abandon her. I can't just leave her somewhere to get jacked, or, or worse!"

"It won't be safe," the boy said in a reasonable voice. As if what he were saying was reasonable! "It should be okay here. We're close to my place, we'll walk and I'll drive you home."

"Only," Blaine said slowly, "If you give me some answers." He stared intently at the dark boy in his passenger's seat.

"Some."

"What?"

"I'll answer some. But if I don't like a question, I won't answer it." The boy was looking out the window. Blaine could make out some features in the reflection. Prominent cheekbones, and a scar just under his left eye.

Blaine ran his fingers through his messy blond hair, deciding where to start.

"What's your name?"

"Caio."

"Caio," Blaine repeated, testing the name out.

"Yes." The boy chuckled. A slight flush rose on Blaine's cheeks. "And you are?"

"Blaine," he replied instinctively. "Who were those guys? And why were they chasing you?"

The boy took a deep breath and said, "Who they are, you wouldn't understand. But they were chasing me because I took something from them."

"What did you take?"

Blaine flinched slightly as Caio's hand went toward his belt. As if he sensed Blaine's fear, he moved more slowly. He pulled a small, crystal sphere the size of a diamond from a pouch on his belt. Blaine leaned a little closer; a sudden urge to grab the sphere startled him. It caught the dim light of the garage and seemed to intensify it. He felt a burning start to form in the back of his eyes. In a flash, Caio swiftly tucked it back into the safety of his belt.

"What is that?" Blaine relaxed in his seat, suddenly exhausted.

"A key." Caio sounded a little closed off at that. Blaine knew he should drop the subject.

"A key? To what?" But the boy just shook his head. "Okay," he sighed. "Let's get going."

Before he could blink the boy was out of his car, the door shut behind him. Blaine slid out of the car, hit the lock button twice to set the alarm and said a silent goodbye to his baby. He made his way around to the other side and followed Caio out of the parking structure.

They walked side-by-side in silence for a few blocks. Blaine could tell Caio was holding back so he could keep up, and appreciated it. He was tired, probably just an adrenaline crash, he thought. He relaxed slightly when Caio cut across a patch of grass near a large, fancy apartment building. They walked across the parking lot and Blaine gaped when they stopped at a shiny, black 2006 Camaro.

"This is your car?" he whispered. He was ready to pass out from exhaustion, but he was a lover of cars, and he appreciated all muscle cars. This was one of his favorites.

He heard Caio chuckle, but that was the last thing he heard. His eyes slipped shut and he took one jagged step to the right, but a pair of strong, hard arms were around him before he could fall.

~~

Blaine opened his eyes and blinked rapidly at the darkness. Something moving at his side caused him to gasp and fall to the floor. He sat up, pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket. Just a text message, he told himself. He crawled back up onto the bed he had been sleeping on. His fingertips slid over the silk sheets. This wasn't his bed. Had Caio brought him into his own apartment when he had passed out?

Blaine flipped his phone open and squinted at the bright backlight. The text was from Rixon. He bit his lip, guilt washing over him. He had totally forgotten his friend. He was probably worried to death. Blaine read the text.

Where the hell are you?!

With a friend. Sorry I bailed. It was an emergency. Call you later., he replied quickly.

He snapped his phone shut and stuffed it back into his pocket. He checked the time on his phone. Ten after five in the morning. He wanted to curl back up and go back to sleep but the pressure on his bladder forced him to his feet.

Blaine blindly felt his way around the walls until he found the door. He twisted the knob silently and peeked around the door. It was just as dark in the next room as it was in the bedroom. Blaine took a few steps into the room and blinked, trying to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. A low rumbling at the other side of the room made his heart jump. He held his breath to listen better. The rumbling turned into a menacing growl.

Blaine slowly lowered himself onto the floor, he had no idea why, but he felt safer the closer to the floor he was. The growling turned into a deep, loud bark that made him jump. Suddenly, the lights were on. He closed his eyes at the sudden brightness and tensed his body, ready for attack. When nothing came, he slowly opened one eye and saw Caio leaning against the far wall, stroking the head of a large dog that looked something like a Siberian Husky, but bigger, more wild. The first thing Blaine noticed was that Caio wasn't wearing a shirt. Then, that his bare torso was covered in scars. Blaine let his eyes travel up the boy's body. For the first time, he saw his face. Caio had dark brown eyes with golden flecks peppered randomly in them. A sturdy jaw housed a few more scars, and a dark eyebrow arched onto his forehead made Blaine realize he was staring. He quickly averted his eyes.

"I apologize for Cale," Caio said quietly, rubbing the dog's ears. "She's protective. She is quite friendly though."

The dog had turned from guard to house pet. Her tail was wagging and she was bouncing around her master. She made her way over to Blaine and licked his cheek. Caio made a noise in his throat and the dog quickly returned to his side.

"Did you sleep well?" Caio asked.

Blaine got up off the floor and brushed himself off. He stared at one scar in particular, above his collar bone. It looked like a large bite mark. "I did," he murmured. "Thank you for letting me stay here." Caio smiled at that.

"You didn't leave me much choice, considering you passed out before I could get you in the car." He had moved to the couch in the middle of the room and was stretched out across it. Blaine got up and sunk into the only open cushion by, Caio's feet. Cale quickly hopped up onto his lap and stretched out, half on top of him and half on Caio's legs. Blaine hesitantly ran his fingers through the dog's thick fur, which caused her to arch her back and stretch out more.

"I'm sorry about that," Blaine said. "I really don't know why I got so tired all of a sudden."

"I think I do."

"You do?" Blaine looked over at Caio like he had feathers sticking out of his nose. Caio just nodded. "Well?" he pressed.

"It's just a theory, and nothing you'd like to hear about, anyway. You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"How can you know that?"

"Because most people don't believe in this kind of stuff."

"What stuff?"

"Let's get you home," Caio said suddenly, hopping to his feet and grabbing a shirt from the back of the couch. He pulled it on over his head and grabbed Blaine's wrist, pulling him toward the door. Blaine stumbled after him. As Caio's hand reached for the door handle, Cale let out an ear-piercing yelp. Caio withdrew his hand and looked over at his dog, tightening his fingers around Blaine's wrist. Blaine's hand was beginning to go numb. He looked back and forth between the dog and the boy, confused. They seemed to be communicating silently. Caio dragged Blaine over to the window and threw it open. Blaine could see a rickety fire escape down the side of the building.

"What's going on?" Blaine wasn't afraid of heights. He liked them, actually. But he much rather prefer an elevator when it was an option.

"We need to leave. Now." Caio hadn't loosened his grip, if anything it tightened every time he glanced back at the door. Cale was pacing back and forth across the width of the door, her lips curled back to expose her teeth.

"So why don't we just use the door?"

Caio gave him a sharp look which told Blaine that that was clearly not an option. Caio quickly slipped through the window, pulling Blaine with him. He finally let go of his grasp on the boy's wrist. The sun wasn't up yet and it was hard to see anything. Blaine glanced over the railing, they were nine or ten flights up. Caio grabbed his wrist again and they rushed down the rickety stairs. When they'd just stumbled onto the fourth landing, an explosion sounded from above, and he could here Cale barking and snarling.

"Caio," Blaine gasped, "Will she be alright?"

Caio pulled at Blaine's wrist and urged him on. "She can take care of herself better than we could, chico. Don't worry about her. Worry about yourself."

When they reached the last landing, Caio yanked at the ladder. It was stuck. They were about thirteen feet from the ground. Caio cursed loudly in Spanish. "Give me your hands," he said after a moment. "I'll hang you over the edge, it'll make the fall easier." He held his hands out to Blaine, expecting him to take them. Blaine just smiled. He grabbed the rail and swung himself over it, landing on the balls of his feet and rolling on impact.

Caio made a satisfied noise and swung himself after Blaine, landing just a few inches away from him. He was about to say something when the fire escape started to clatter. Whoever had broken into the apartment was on their way down. Blaine froze for a second. He could still hear Cale barking. That was a good sign that she was okay. He let out a sigh and Caio snatched up his wrist for a third time. Then they were running again, but not toward the car. Down a dark alley filled with news paper, garbage, broken glass and something that every alley seemed to have the stench of - cat pee.

There was a fence at the end of the alley that was at least twenty feet high. There was no way they could climb that fast enough, as fit as they might be. Blaine was about to voice his concerns when a large knife appeared in Caio's hand. He sliced a line in the fence and sheathed the knife back into his belt. Blaine hadn't seen him grab it, but he was wearing it now. Caio peeled back one side of the fence to allow Blaine to slip through then followed suit.

They ran side by side for blocks. Eventually, they stopped at a bus stop and Blaine collapsed onto the bench, panting. Caio hadn't even broken a sweat. He perched himself on the back rest of the bench and watched everything with alert eyes.

"Where are we going to go?" Blaine asked quietly, looking up at the dark boy.

"A friend's place. I can't take you to your home, it won't be safe. They most likely know where you live."

"Oh." Blaine blinked and stared at his hands. His wrist was already forming a large bruise where Caio had been holding it. What had he gotten himself into?

The bus pulled up, the doors opening with a puff. Caio lead Blaine on and toward the back. They slid into a seat and rode silently for fifteen minutes or so. Caio had his hand on his belt the entire ride. They ended up walking down a street that consisted mostly of pubs and bars. Caio stopped in front of a door next to one of the bars and knocked three times.

Blaine was shivering in the chilly morning air. Caio reached over and rubbed the boy's arm absently through his jacket. The door opened a crack then, and a head of red hair poked out. It was a little boy, about nine. Freckles blanketed his face and his blue eyes stared up at Caio. The little boy let out a gasp and threw the door open.

"Cai!" the boy squealed and threw himself into Caio's stomach, clinging to his waist. Caio smiled and stroked the boy's hair.

"Are your mom and dad home, Allan?" The boy just shook his head. "What about Gally or Katilette?" The boy nodded at that.

"And Alej," Allan said, grabbing Caio's hand. He started pulling the bigger boy up the stairs. Blaine followed silently, smiling to himself. The kid obviously loved this dark, mysterious boy. He couldn't be all that bad. When they reached another door at the top of the stairs, it flung open, and two sets of arms were yanking Caio into the apartment. Blaine felt a little panicked, but Allan was laughing. And no one was yelling or screaming. Only quiet, happy exclamations came from the apartment.

At Allan's expectant look, Blaine stepped inside and closed the door behind him. A tall, pale man was holding Caio by the shoulders at arm's length, looking him over. Caio stood tall and proud, smiling at the smaller woman's light touches to his dark hair. He obviously loved these people.

"We were so worried about you," the woman's voice shook as she spoke. The taller man rested a hand on her shoulder, soothing her.

"He's safe, Katilette. Do not worry anymore," the tall man said. Katilette gave Caio a fearsome hug before finally seeming to calm down. The woman's flowing blond hair whipped around her neck as she turned her deep green eyes onto Blaine. He froze.