Most of the time, Blaine loved his job. He got a kick out of being the representative for his state in the senate, making local issues a priority and sometimes even winning big time. The same excitement applied to being a part of making the laws of tomorrow, sponsoring bills he deemed important and necessary. Of course, the downsides were all the double faced attitudes that everyone seemed to be sporting in Washington. But he was an honest person to a fault, and so far he’d been able to keep his integrity mostly intact.
That was apparently a novelty in the political climate of this city, but Blaine would rather quit than go back on his word.
Still, whenever he had important meetings coming up, he tended to get nervous. He never knew what the opposition would spring on him, even though so far he’d always walked out as the winner. Granted, being a year into his office term wasn’t much of an indicator, but Blaine thought it was a good statistic nonetheless. However, the nervousness remained. Sometimes he still got the feeling that people looked at him as if they wanted to ask him why he was playing dress up with daddy’s suit; shouldn’t he rather go home and play in the sandbox? Just leave the important work for the grown ups, son.
It didn’t matter that Blaine was 32 and highly respected in his home state.
Whenever the nervousness got too much for Blaine, he closed the door to his office, cranked up the music and started dancing through the room. Sometimes, if the flutter in his gut just wouldn’t go away, he even started to sing along. It had never failed him so far, with music being his comfort whenever and wherever he was. He’d always felt at home on stage, belting out his feelings via song. It also helped him to get himself in check and bring his thoughts into a semblance of order.
The level of nervousness he was feeling this time around was of astronomical proportions, though. The meeting was probably the most important one of his entire political career, if not his life. He could reshape the history of this country if he played his cards right.
Well, okay. Maybe the meeting wasn’t quite as dramatic, but Blaine knew that a lot of hopes were riding on the outcome of this preliminary meeting about constitutionally established marriage equality.
His dream, the dream he’d had since he was seventeen, might actually come true.
But he knew there were still a lot of naysayers, and he had to be on his A game to convince them. He couldn’t let the bill get nixed before they were even able to introduce it. So he tried to take deep breaths first and remember all the weird yoga techniques Wes had (futilely) taught him in high school. He soon realized it wasn’t working, so he switched on the stereo and searched for a radio station that played some mindless pop music.
His staff had learned to leave him alone whenever he closed his door unless it was an emergency. Everyone coped differently, and they knew he needed his privacy whenever he shut them out, so they respected that. Thankfully, his office was soundproof so Blaine wasn’t worried when he increased the volume on an old Lady Gaga song and started nodding his head along. The beat and cheerful music soon got the better of him, seeping into his blood and making him want to dance. So he did.
He was just getting into the swing of things when the song ended and the first notes of a classic B-52’s song started. Blaine couldn’t help the grin splitting his face when he recognized it. He kicked the air and started shimmying through his office while belting out the lyrics along with the singers. Old instincts came back with a vengeance and he jumped up on his leather couch, shaking his hips in time with the beat of the song. He knew that he was probably making an exaggerated, ridiculous face when he crooned Love baby, that’s where it’s at into his fist.
He didn’t care. As silly as he was behaving right now, it was freeing and settled his nerves like nothing else. He played air guitar with abandon, jumped back down from the couch and did a twirl on the balls of his feet. Then he bobbed his head to the beat again and moved his shoulders while dancing around the couch and coffee table, doing absurd hand motions and singing along.
The song was almost at an end when Blaine did another twirl and came suddenly face to face with Kurt, who was standing in the open doorway, a strange look on his face. Blaine almost tripped over his own feet in surprise, but he caught himself in time. The surprise was quickly replaced by soul deep embarrassment.
He hurried over to his desk and grabbed the remote to shut off the stereo, then very carefully laid it back down on the table top, staring down at it. Oh god, he’d just made a complete idiot out of himself in front of his PA, the man who was always in control and never gave in to silly notions. The man who Blaine has had a major crush on ever since Kurt started working for him and which, after a year, had almost definitely turned into something resembling love, no matter how unrequited it was.
He’d never been more mortified than he was right now. He was supposed to be dignified, it was practically in the job description of any senator. Too bad that Blaine had never been dignified in his life. But damn it, he’d never wanted to make a fool of himself in front of Kurt of all people. If he couldn’t have his love, he at least wanted his respect. Looked like that option might be off the table now. Well, it was time to face the music. Blaine might not be dignified, but he had his pride and he sure as hell wasn’t a coward.
He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders in anticipation and turned around slowly, trying to appear as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Kurt was still standing in the doorway, a file folder clutched to his chest while his blue eyes stared at Blaine as if he’d never seen him before.
“What can I do for you, Kurt?” Blaine asked with a surprisingly calm voice. It seemed to shake the man out of his own fugue state, and he entered the office carefully.
“You have to leave for your meeting in five minutes if you want to be on time,” Kurt said, then bit his lip as if he had to restrain himself from whatever else he’d wanted to say.
Blaine wanted to kiss him so bad it almost physically hurt.
He squashed that urge immediately and instead smiled at him. “Okay, Kurt. Thank you for letting me know.”
Kurt nodded, but still didn’t move. Blaine ignored it and went around his desk to get his suit jacket from the back of his chair. He donned it and got the stack of papers from his desk that he would need, then rummaged around for a file folder to put them into. When he looked back up, Kurt was still staring at him with an expression that Blaine, for the life of him, couldn’t interpret. Maybe he had something on his face?
He ran his hand over his tie and looked down at it. “Do I look okay?” he asked carefully, trying to make sure he wouldn’t walk into that meeting with two buttons of his shirt or, god forbid, his fly undone.
Kurt made an abortive motion with his hand, but didn’t move in the end. Instead he asked, “May I?”
“Go ahead,” Blaine said immediately, and only realized how much of a tactical error that was when Kurt walked up to him right into his personal space and put his hands on him. Well, on Blaine’s tie, to be exact, but Blaine could still feel Kurt’s warm fingertips through his shirt while he righted whatever Blaine’s dancing had screwed up. He could smell Kurt’s cologne and almost swayed forward when the urge to bury his face against Kurt’s neck became so fucking bad. But he couldn’t, and he wouldn’t. Kurt deserved better than some sleazy boss sexually harassing him at work.
But god did Blaine want to kiss him until they both forgot how to breathe.
At last Kurt’s hands slid over Blaine’s shoulders to straighten the material before he gave Blaine a tiny grin and said, “There. You’re all pretty again.”
Blaine’s breath caught in his throat at the words, not believing his ears. He would’ve put it away as wishful thinking on his part, if Kurt hadn’t blushed fiercely the next second and taken a hurried step away from Blaine. Now he looked flustered and mortified. Somehow it made Blaine feel a little better to know that even Kurt could be embarrassed once in a while. But on the other hand he would really like to know what the hell Kurt had meant by saying that. Was it just an expression, some carelessly used phrase? Or was there something more behind it? Was Blaine projecting? He wanted to know!
He couldn’t ask though. That would be beyond unprofessional.
He also had a meeting he was going to be late for if he didn’t get a move on. So he threw a carefree grin at Kurt and tightened the grip on his stack of papers. “Thanks again,” he said quietly, pushed his way past Kurt, and left the office.