It was a hot and sticky summer night on the eve of what Blaine Anderson was sure was going to be the best semester of his life. The air was thick with humidity, his typically gelled down curls were free, and the AC in his apartment was on the fritz yet again but he couldn’t find the energy to care — life was damn near perfect.
Starting Monday morning Blaine would finally be in his senior year at NYU. He’d managed to cap off the last of his necessary classes for his theatre major during the previous semester, giving him a lighter class load for the upcoming fall semester. Just weeks before he was scheduled to head back to New York after spending his last summer in Westerville, Ohio he’d gotten the call that he’d landed the internship he’d spent weeks interviewing for. After two phone interviews and three in-person interviews at Sue Sylvester Productions, one of the most lauded theatre production companies in the city, Blaine had waited on pins and needles for their official decision. He’d managed to snag the last spot in their Fall Internship pool. It was by far the most noteworthy internship he’d be taking on to date — and the fact that it was a paid internship was the cherry on top.
Blaine and his roommate, Mike, had spent the majority of their final day of summer vacation on the couch, playing round after round of Mario Party before their eyes began to burn from staring so intently at the TV screen.
“Man, this is our last summer break ever. We’re never gonna get a whole three months off for the rest of our lives,” Mike complained as he rolled himself off of the couch and headed into the kitchen.
Blaine groaned as he peeled himself off of the couch cushion he’d been laying on, grimacing at the feeling of his clothes sticking to his sweat slick skin. He shuffled over to the fridge, pulling out the coldest beer can he could find and holding it up to his damp forehead.
“Way to make the future sound exciting,” Blaine teased, tossing Mike a beer before closing the fridge.
“I’m serious dude! We should go out tonight or something. Make the most of our youth and all that jazz,” Mike suggested excitedly, taking a sip of his beer and a bite out of a strawberry Poptart, earning a disgusted look from Blaine.
“Since when are you the type to want to go out on a Sunday night? And don’t you have class tomorrow?”
Mike shrugged, taking another sip before speaking again. “My 8:30 was cancelled. Solid way to start the semester. And as much as I love kicking your ass at Mario Party I might die if I have to sit in this hotbox for the rest of the night.”
Mike had a point. The apartment had gone from unpleasantly warm to sweltering as the day had gone by. They’d opened up all the windows, but the chance of any kind of breeze had been shot by the intense humidity. Blaine enjoyed going out for a night on the town as much as the average college student, and his first class wasn’t until 2:30 the next day. Maybe getting out of the apartment for the night wasn’t such a bad idea.
“Alright, what did you have in mind?” Blaine asked, cracking open his own beer and taking a seat at the kitchen table.
Mike hummed in thought as he shoved the last of his Poptart into his mouth. His eyes lit up and he whipped his phone out of his pocket, his fingers flying across the screen at record speed.
“Tina went to this place in SoHo that she’s been talking about nonstop since last semester. They have those fancy drinks that you make with dry ice and aerial silks in the middle of the dance floor and stuff,” he exclaimed, handing off his phone to Blaine.
Mike had texted his girlfriend, Tina, asking about said bar and she’d responded with a link to a website in record breaking time, their texts only seconds apart. How they managed to text so quickly without having their eyes constantly glued to their phones had been an enigma to Blaine since they’d first started dating two years ago.
“Mike, you do know this is a gay club right?” Blaine asked as he opened up the link Tina had sent.
He handed Mike back his phone, the website for Scandals, one of the most infamous gay clubs in the city, loaded on the screen. Blaine had never been to Scandals himself, though he’d been tempted to gather a group to go for his twenty-first birthday the previous spring. The stories Blaine had heard about Scandals were intense to say the least — the club was known equally for its outlandish drinks and unstoppable dance floor. He’d once heard a rumor that Scandals’ themed parties lasted until 9 in the morning, though the hours listed on their website begged to differ. Mike had been right about the aerial silks — Scandals’ dance floor was often occupied by fire eaters, silk dancers, and stilt walkers along with grinding bodies.
“Huh, well that explains why it sounds way cooler than a regular club,” he said as he scrolled through Scandals’ Instagram. “Dude, check out tonight’s theme!” Mike exclaimed, shoving his phone back into Blaine’s face.
Tonight’s theme was “Gay Bar Superstar: A Journey Through the Gay Discography.” The colorful poster was accompanied by several photos of notable artists, encouraging attendees to come dressed up as their favorite musical queer icon.
“We have go. Tina has a kick ass Lady Gaga costume leftover from last Halloween!” Before Blaine could respond Mike had already grabbed back his phone and was typing away at lightning speed. “She’s on board, and so is Brittany,” he said with a smile, setting his phone down in triumph.
“This sounds great, but I’m pretty sure neither of us have Lady Gaga costumes lying around and we don’t exactly have time to put outfits together,” Blaine replied, glancing towards the clock on the wall. Scandals typically opened its doors around 7pm, and it was already nearly 5.
Mike hummed once again, snapping his fingers before rushing into his room. Blaine followed behind him in confusion, ducking as a pair of jeans went flying through the air.
“Ah-ha!” Mike exclaimed, rushing out of his room, holding up a bright flower patterned suit. “I knew I’d find something this suit would be good for eventually.”
“And who would you be exactly?” Blaine asked with a raised brow, crossing his arms.
Mike shrugged, pulling on the patterned suit jacket and giving Blaine a twirl. “Harry Styles. Or Elton John, whichever floats your boat,” he said with a wink.
Blaine rolled his eyes. He had to admit, while not his usual style the suit did look great on Mike.
“Well this still leaves me without a costume. And no, I won’t be the David to your Elton,” Blaine warned, Mike’s parted lips melting into a frown.
“You’re no fun. But challenge accepted. There’s no way you don’t have something in your closet that’ll work. Maybe there’s something buried under all of the bowties.” Mike headed straight for Blaine’s room, opening up Blaine’s closet without waiting for permission.
“Rude!” Blaine called out, tossing his empty can at Mike’s head with a sigh. There was no turning back now — once Mike had a plan it was impossible to talk him out of it. Just like that Blaine’s plan for a relaxing Sunday evening had gone out the window.
As much as Blaine hated to admit it, Mike was right. Buried beneath a stack of folded polos and a box of bow ties Mike had found a pair of acid wash jeans that, when paired with a spare white wife beater shirt, made the perfect Freddie Mercury costume. He’d finished off the look with a studded belt, and Tina had even been kind enough to put together a black armband to bring the look completely together.
Tina had tottered into their apartment in six-inch heels wearing an impressive replica of Lady Gaga’s infamous meat dress. Tina’s roommate, Brittany, had gone for an elaborate and colorful costume that she described as “unicorn chic” complete with an obscene amount of glitter.
“I tried to get her to go with something more in theme but she insisted,” Tina whispered to Blaine out of the corner of her mouth.
Blaine and Mike tried not to think about how long it would take them to clean all of the glitter Brittany was shedding off of their floors, choosing instead to crack open the bottle of tequila they’d grabbed from their corner bodega for the occasion.
“Mix it with this! I call it Bicorn Brew,” Brittany said with a wink, pulling a flask from her hot pink fanny pack.
She poured everyone a shot of tequila, adding in a splash of the drink from her flask. Mike shot Blaine a wary look when their tequila turned neon green with the addition of Brittany’s “brew.”
“On three!” Brittany said excitedly before anyone could protest, holding her own glass high.
The group lifted up their cups, all knocking back their drinks on the count of three. Tina, Mike, and Blaine each released their own sound of disgust at the vile taste in their mouths. Brittany licked her lips, smacking them once before taking a swig directly out of her flask.
“Britt, what was that?!” Tina asked as she ran over to the sink to pour herself a glass of water. Brittany’s special addition had made the already bitter tequila burn with an overpowering sugary sweetness as it slid down your throat. It somehow managed to taste sickeningly sweet and burn like hell at the same time.
“I dissolved some green Skittles in vodka,” Brittany replied with a satisfied smile.
“So you just mixed vodka with tequila?” Mike questioned, swiping Tina’s glass of water and knocking back the rest of it.
“And Skittles, duh,” Brittany corrected, rolling her eyes as she poured some tequila directly into her flask of “Bicorn Brew.” “Anyone want anymore?” she offered, holding up the flask.
Everyone quickly shook their head. Brittany shrugged. “More for me.”
With the help of Brittany’s concoction everyone felt warmed up enough to head out for their night on the town quicker than usual. Blaine usually needed at least two drinks in him before he felt comfortable in clubs — but he had to admit, Brittany’s Bicorn Brew had done the trick.
The group clamored onto the A train, everyone laughing just a bit too hard at each other’s jokes as the effects of their pregame drinks began to kick in. By the time their train had rumbled down from Washington Heights to SoHo Blaine’s blood was thrumming with the need to let loose.
As Blaine had suspected, the line to get in to Scandals wrapped around the block. The group took their place at the back of the line, pouting at the abrupt pause on their night, hoping the buzz of their earlier drinks didn’t fade away before they could get inside. Tina leaned over to whisper something into Mike’s ear. He raised an eyebrow at her, the two sharing a knowing smile.
“We’ll be right back,” Mike announced, grabbing Tina’s hand and leaving Brittany and Blaine alone in the line.
“Where are they going?” Blaine asked as he watched the two run off towards the front of the line at the end of the block.
“Probably to make out,” Brittany said with a shrug, adjusting her askew unicorn horn.
Blaine pushed that visual aside as he turned to help Brittany with her horn. The two made small talk while they waited for Mike and Tina to return. Blaine had only met Tina’s eccentric roommate a handful of times. The two had met through Mike, who had met Brittany at a dance workshop during the summer after his freshman year at NYU. The two had struck up a friendship, Mike learning that Brittany was studying dance at Barnard after dropping out of MIT two weeks into her first semester. Brittany had complained about trying to find a roommate for an off-campus apartment and he’d linked her to Tina.
Tina, who was studying Psychology at Columbia, turned out to be the perfect match for Brittany and the two found themselves a quaint two bedroom in Morningside Heights. Their friendship had always puzzled Blaine — he didn’t know Brittany very well, but he didn’t see how someone as high strung as Tina could so easily get along with someone as free-spirited as Brittany. Regardless, Brittany was nice, threw amazing parties, and almost never frowned, which made her a winner in Blaine’s book.
Their friendly debate on the best type of dinosaur was disrupted by a jubilant Mike and Tina running back towards them, practically bouncing with giddiness as they started pulling Blaine and Brittany from the line.
“C’mon, we got us in!” Mike exclaimed, tugging Blaine so hard he nearly tripped over himself as they ran towards the front of the line.
“Mike showed the bouncer his abs,” Tina said with a wink.
“They are great abs,” Brittany mused.
Those at the front of the line booed and jeered as the four were let into the club with just quick, half-hearted glances at their IDs, Blaine’s cheek reddening at the commotion they’d caused. Any guilt he’d felt about cutting the line melted away the second they stepped through Scandals’ doors. The bass of an upbeat pop remix was pounding so strongly Blaine could feel it beneath his feet, growing stronger with every step they took inside. The walls were lined with posters, articles, and photographs dedicated to queer artistry, kept safe behind ornate frames. Glitter coated the floor, layers upon layers crusted deep into the cracks of the ground, impossible to discern between the old and the new.
The group was only able to take a handful of steps into the club as a unit, eventually having to break off just to be able to navigate through the throngs of tightly packed bodies. Tina held tightly onto Mike’s hand as she guided him straight for the dance floor. Blaine briefly found himself alone, surrounded by grinding couples, only for Brittany to reach out and loop her arm through his.
“We’re gonna need another drink,” she yelled into his ear over the blaring music before tugging him towards the bar.
A small crowd had gathered around the bar, situated in the center of the dance floor. Brittany, pushy and petite, managed to slide her way to the front of the waiting crowd.
“What do you want?” she called out to Blaine from her place at the counter.
“Surprise me,” he called back, Brittany giving him a thumbs up before turning back to the heavily tattooed bartender.
Blaine took a moment to observe the dance floor. Most of the dancers had paired off into couples - mostly twosomes, but there were a handful of threesomes - grinding as closely as possible to one another, all while carefully dodging the various performers around them. Most people had decided to keep in theme, he saw a handful of elaborate Boy Georges and George Michaels scattered across the room. Others were decked out in elaborate bondage gear that Blaine found both intimidating and slightly arousing.
The song shifted to a remix of Lady Gaga’s Love Game — and Blaine’s eyes were drawn in instantly by a boy just a few feet away. His eyes were closed as he swayed in perfect time to the beat of the music, dancing against the air so smoothly he looked more like a projection than a person. He shifted into the light, Blaine stepping forward to get a better look at him. His chestnut hair was tinged with flicks of red to compliment his costume: Ziggy Stardust. His face was covered in a thin layer of sweat and glitter but his makeup remained pristine. Blaine didn’t know what to focus on — his flawless porcelain skin, or his seemingly never ending legs, covered by sinfully tight black leather pants. To say he was absolutely stunning would be an understatement.
“Surprise!” Brittany’s arrival snapped Blaine out of his lovestruck daze. She handed him a bright yellow drink with a green umbrella that smelled strongly of coconut.
“What is this?” Blaine asked as he took a tentative sip, pleased to find that it tasted significantly better than Brittany’s first surprise drink.
“Not sure. Someone gave me these for free,” Brittany explained, holding up the other two drinks she held in her hand.
“Doesn’t that seem a little dangerous?” Blaine questioned, suddenly wary about the safety of his drink.
Brittany shrugged, turning back towards the bar and waving her pinky towards someone.
“I don’t think so. She was really nice. And pretty.”
Blaine leaned up on his tiptoes to catch a glance of Brittany’s admirer. A Latina woman in a skin-tight leather police officer costume blew Brittany a kiss from her place on a stool at the bar.
“Is she dressed up as a cop?” Blaine asked, breaking Brittany’s moon-eyed stupor.
“She’s Demi Lovato’s Halloween costume,” she replied as if it was common sense.
Blaine took a second cautious sip of his drink. The woman seemed harmless enough, but he made a note to sip slowly and keep an eye on Brittany. It was then that he noticed the imprint of a kiss on the edge of Brittany’s jaw that just so happened to be the same shade of ruby red as the woman at the bars lipstick.
“She said she knows the bartender so she gets free drinks whenever she wants. She said if I give her one dance she’ll let me get free drinks too!” Brittany took a long sip of the drink in her right hand, draining nearly half of it one go. She winced, shoving the drink into Blaine’s free hand. “Brain freeze,” she mumbled as she rubbed at her forehead.
Even brain freeze couldn’t keep Brittany down. She grabbed back her drink once she’d recovered, downing the rest of it one gulp before making her way back to the woman at the bar, leaving Blaine and his half-finished drink behind. Blaine shrugged to himself. He knew Mike and Tina would pair off early in the night, but he hadn’t expected to lose Brittany as a companion within the first twenty minutes of the night. He took her lead, finishing off the last of his mysterious coconut drink, setting the glass on a nearby table before making his way towards the dance floor.
Thankfully Blaine wasn’t the only lone ranger. Plenty of people danced to the beat of the music on their own, some getting scooped up along the way by other dancers. His buzz was back and stronger than ever as he allowed himself to sway calmly to the music, eyes scanning the crowd for the beautiful boy from earlier. He spotted him in the center of a cluster of couples, eyes still closed and moving on his own in perfect harmony with the music. Blaine made a beeline for him, doing his best to stop and enjoy the music on his own, hoping he wouldn’t come off as predatory or creepy.
His heart was pounding against his chest as he finally made it to the ring of couples surrounding the boy. He attempted to slide past one couple, both dressed in drag, only to get pulled in by the taller of the two, trapped between them as they continued to sway against one another. Blaine laughed, taking a moment or two before he matched their rhythm. The two were excellent dancers — not nearly as entrancing as the beautiful boy, but they were fun and energetic and continued pulling people into their group until it had become a tangled mess of sweaty bodies.
The group eventually became a bit too crowded, Blaine breaking off slightly in hopes of getting some air outside of their cluster. He closed his eyes for the briefest moment, allowing the music to soak into his skin as he felt another body glide perfectly against his. He peeked beneath his lashes, eyes widening when he realized that the beautiful boy had graced him with his presence.
The boy grinded his hips against the air, just inches from brushing against Blaine’s own rotating hips. He was close enough that Blaine could feel the heat radiating off of his body, but just far enough their bodies only nearly brushed against each other. Blaine bit back an enormous smile, attempting to keep his mind on the music, lest he lose the boys interest with his distracted dancing. The two continued their dance, close but never close enough, for two songs, unbothered by those around them, never letting any other dancers come between them or distract them.
They slid seamlessly into their third song, the boys hip gliding towards Blaine, and finally he couldn’t help himself. Blaine reached out to rest his palm against the boys waist, gently, afraid that he would pull away and break the magic of the moment. The corner of the boys lips turned up just slightly, peeking up at Blaine from beneath thick, full lashes speckled with flecks of gold and glitter. His hips slid forward with more force, brushing just the slightest bit against Blaines. He inhaled sharply, not realizing just how desperately he’d been craving the contact until he’d been teased with it.
He decided to test the waters even further, leaning in to the boys ears, his breath warm against his skin.
“Has someone already told you you’re the most beautiful person here?”
It was a bold opening line, especially for Blaine. He was typically more timid when it came to approaching men. The handful of hookups he’d experienced had all been initiated by the other person. Not that Blaine’s attempts at flirting were failures — but he often had trouble finding the confidence to make his intentions clear. Maybe it was the free drinks, or the pulsing music, or the intoxicating way that this boy managed to move as though no one else was watching that made Blaine’s body practically vibrate with the need to be as close as possible to this magnetic person.
The boy laughed, quite possibly the most beautiful sound Blaine had ever heard. He had three years of studying theatre and music under his belt and he had still never encountered a melody as sweet and high and breathy as the sound of this boy.
“No, you’re the first. Congratulations,” he teased, never stilling his hips, encouraging Blaine to continue moving with him by grinding just the slightest bit closer to him.
“It’s an honor,” Blaine replied, happy to continue dancing with him, now even closer than before. “I’m Blaine,” he offered, this time not making the mistake of pausing his movements.
“Nice name,” the boy responded, but said nothing else. Blaine bit back a frown.
“Do I get to know your name?” he tried, attempting not to seem too eager.
The boy slowed down his movements, pursing his lips in thought, humming quietly.
“You can, if you buy me a drink,” he offered with a cheeky grin.
Blaine lit up, his eyes shining brighter than the disco ball above them. “It’d be my pleasure,” he replied, offering up his hand to guide the boy away from the crowds.
The boy slid his hand into Blaine’s, his warm, soft palm sending a jolt throughout Blaine’s body. If the quiet gasp the boy let out as their palms touched was any indication, he’d felt it too. Blaine carefully pulled him off the dance floor and towards the bar, grinning victoriously as the boy shrugged off several suitors that approached him along the way. Blaine caught sight of Mike and Tina, engaged in a passionate make out session on the opposite side of the bar, but he had lost sight of Brittany and her seductive new friend. He frowned — as much as he wanted to focus all of his attention on the beautiful boy he’d have to take some time to track down Brittany soon.
“What’ll it be?” Blaine asked, leaning in just a bit closer than necessary to the other boys ear, smiling when he leaned in closer to him.
“Pineapple sunrise,” he answered, Blaine’s brow furrowing.
“I… I don’t know if they have that here,” he replied nervously. He’d never heard of a “pineapple sunrise” before, and it didn’t look like it was listed anywhere on the bars cocktail menu.
“It’s my specialty. They’ll know when you order it,” he assured.
Blaine was taken aback. The boy had come here often enough to have his own custom drink. He didn’t seem like the type to be Scandals regular, but then again, Blaine really knew nothing about him. Everything he thought he knew about him was the product of letting his imagination run wild.
“And how do I know that I’m not helping some underage kid get a free drink?” Blaine asked with a raised brow. He was fairly confident that the boy was over 21, but it didn’t hurt to be safe.
The boy rolled his eyes teasingly, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a driver's license, carefully concealing his name with his finger. Blaine smiled as he noticed it was the same Ohio state drivers license he had in his own back pocket. He scanned the birth date — he was 22, just a year older than Blaine. He wondered if their paths had crossed at some point in Ohio, but he was sure he would’ve remembered seeing someone as stunning as this boy somewhere as drab and bleak as Ohio.
“Twenty-two, practically an old man,” Blaine teased before turning back to the bleach blonde bartender. He ordered the boys ‘signature’ drink, ordering one for himself to see what exactly it was, the bartender leaning over to shoot the boy a wave.
“Hey Kurt!” the bartender called out before quickly turning back to the bar to prepare their drinks.
Blaine’s brows shot up as he turned back to the boy — Kurt.
Kurt groaned, leaning towards the bar and smacking down on the counter until the bartender turned back around.
“Way to ruin my cover, Sam!” he shouted to the bartender as he returned with their drinks.
“Sorry dude, I didn’t realize you used an alter ego here,” he said with a shrug before turning to his other waiting customers.
Kurt sulked for a moment, taking a sip of his drink — Blaine realizing he’d never handed over his credit card to pay for them — before returning back to high spirits. He handed Blaine his own drink, waiting expectantly for him to try his custom cocktail. Blaine took a sip of the bright yellow beverage, smiling at the refreshing, fruity flavor that danced on his tongue. It was by far the best drink he’d had that night.
“What is this?” he asked before taking another long sip.
“Rum, and every fruit you could possibly keep stocked in a bar,” he said, clinking his glass against Blaine’s before taking another sip.
“So do you come here so often that you’re on a first name basis with the bartenders?” Blaine asked. It was prying, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. He was grateful that the noise had dulled down a bit in their corner of the bar, making it easier for them to talk with one another.
“That’s just Sam. He’s a friend of a friend that I came with tonight,” he said, leaning forward slightly to quickly scan the room. “Ah, there she is. And she found a friend.” He pointed towards a couple at the end of the bar, two women exchanging whispers and passionate kisses, ignoring the whoops and hollers coming from those around them.
“Wait, your friend is Halloween Demi Lovato?!” Blaine asked when he realized why that blonde ponytail and pink fanny pack looked so familiar.
Kurt turned to Blaine with an incredulous look. “Are you here with the unicorn?”
There was a brief silence between the two before they burst into laughter. Even in a club packed with hundreds and hundreds of bodies the world had proved itself too small.
“Well that explains why your friend was offering Brittany free drinks,” Blaine said, suddenly feeling much more comfortable with Brittany’s choice of company.
“Her name’s Santana. She used to bartend here up until a few months ago. She’s not dangerous, I promise. She just wants people to think she is,” he said with a smile.
“So, besides the free drinks what brings you here tonight?” Blaine asked as he finished off the last of his drink, licking the sticky sweet syrup residue left on his lips.
Kurt shrugged. “I like to dance. Usually only by myself but it just so happens I found a worthy partner tonight,” he said with a wink, licking his own lips in turn. The sight ignited a warmth in the pit of Blaine’s stomach.
“Then I really am the luckiest guy in the world tonight, aren’t I?” he replied, resting his free hand against Kurt’s hip.
Kurt smiled, his cheeks reddening beneath the layer of costume makeup. His eyes darted down to his shoes for a second, a brief moment of vulnerability, before looking back up at Blaine, his gaze slowly melting from innocent to sultry.
“Why don’t you give me one more dance and see where things take us?” he asked, biting his lip.
Blaine’s knees nearly gave in. There was a sliver of a chance that the most stunning human being he’d ever encountered his life was interested in him. He could hardly believe that someone like Kurt had even given him a second glance, let alone approach him first. Blaine considered himself attractive, but there he was, dressed up as Freddie Mercury with his hair gelled down within an inch of its life, and this magnificent boy had chosen him out of the hundreds of people that surrounded them. He made a mental note to buy Mike a thank you six pack of beer tomorrow for convincing him to come out that night.
Blaine allowed Kurt to pull him back over to the dance floor, his fingers now sliding through Blaine’s, his thumb gliding slowly back and forth along the side of Blaine’s palm. Mike and Tina had broken apart and caught sight of Blaine. Mike shot him two thumbs up, Tina giving him a round of applause as he smiled and waved them off.
Blaine let out a groan of excitement as the song switched from an 80’s remix of the latest Ariana Grande single to a sped up, pumping remix of Arctic Monkeys Do I Wanna Know. It was a song he knew all too well, and his skin had ignited with a burning desire to pull Kurt close and sway to the beat of what he considered to be one of the sexiest songs in history.
Once Kurt stopped Blaine’s hands immediately flew to the other boys hips. Kurt let out a sound of surprise, jumping slightly. He smiled, quickly finding his rhythm and sliding his arms around Blaine’s neck, bringing their bodies closer than ever. Blaine inhaled sharply at the sensation of of Kurt’s hips grinding directly against his, the heat in his stomach trickling down to his groin.
I'm sorry to interrupt it's just I'm constantly…
“You really are the most stunning guy here, y’know. Probably the most stunning person I’ve ever seen in my life,” Blaine murmured against the side of Kurt’s neck, resisting the urge to swipe his tongue across the bare expanse of his neck up to his earlobe. The latest drink had made him bolder, more unashamed in his desire for this beautiful boy.
“You should give yourself more credit,” Kurt replied breathily, biting his lip at the sensation of Blaine’s breath tickling his warm skin.
Blaine shook his head, dusting his lips for the briefest second against the skin directly below Kurt’s ear, his hands tightening their grip on Kurt’s hips. “There’s no universe besides this one where someone like you talks to someone like me.”
On the cusp of trying to kiss you….
Kurt pulled himself away from Blaine’s lips slightly, but remained in his hold. Blaine loosened his grip, pulling back quickly, prepared to apologize profusely for crossing the line and praying that Kurt didn’t walk away. Instead his eyes locked with Kurt’s, an intriguing mix of hazel and blue, sparkling bright under the neon lights of the club. The taller boys lips parted, his tongue quickly dancing across his bottom lip, Blaine’s eyes travelling down and fixing on the other boys perfect, rosy lips.
They met each other halfway, their lips colliding with such force it caused them to stumble. Blaine pulled Kurt flush against his chest, their bodies completely aligned as they continued to sway to the beat of the music. The first few seconds were a mess of teeth and tongue desperately trying to cover as much ground as possible, but they soon settled into a much calmer rhythm, their lips sliding against one another smoothly, surprisingly gentle given their messy start.
Kissing Kurt far exceeded any and all of Blaine’s expectations. His lips were lightly coated with a gloss that tasted faintly of cherries and a faint dash of cinnamon, his tongue flavored with the taste of the various fruits in his pineapple sunrise. He was the sweetest taste Blaine had ever experienced.
Time had come to a full stop for Blaine. Hours could’ve passed and all he would care about was making sure that he never had to stop kissing Kurt. They came up for air for moments at a time, one of them always quick to connect their lips once more. Blaine could feel himself growing lightheaded but no part of him had the willpower to care.
I don't know if you feel the same as I do…
Kurt was the one to break off the kiss for more than a few seconds, placing his fingertips gently against Blaine’s kiss swollen lips.
“I need a minute to breathe or else I might pass out,” he explained breathily, Blaine nodding and taking a moment to take in several deep breaths.
At some point they’d stopped dancing, but their bodies remained intertwined, less than an inch apart. Blaine’s tank top clung to his skin, and Kurt’s immaculate makeup had finally fallen victim to the heat. His lips were swollen and smeared with a mixture of gloss and paint, still as much of a work art as he’d been from the start of the night. He rubbed the back of his hand along his cheek, smudging most of the right side of his makeup.
The two remained silent, unsure of how to proceed. All Blaine wanted was to lean in and kiss Kurt again and again, for as long as he would allow, but something had changed in Kurt’s eyes. The other boy bit his lip, his palm sliding down to rest on Blaine’s chest.
But we could be together, if you wanted to...
“Want to come to my place?” Kurt asked.
In that moment Blaine was confident that every good deed he’d performed in his life had been building to this moment. Perhaps the alcohol had made him completely and utterly love sick, but he was convinced that the universe had given him the kindest gift it could. He nodded, not trusting himself to not sputter out some embarrassingly over enthusiastic response. Kurt grinned, his eyes crinkling slightly.
“I just need to let Santana know I’m going to head out. Wait for me by the exit?”
Once again Blaine nodded, still not trusting that he could put together a coherent sentence. Kurt smiled, leaning forward to give Blaine a brief, but passionate parting kiss before making his way back towards the bar to find Santana.
Blaine shook himself out of his daze, realizing he should take this opportunity to let Mike and Tina know where he was off to. He scanned the room for them, quickly finding them on the other side of the dance floor, grinning from ear to ear. It was clear that they’d been watching the show Kurt and Blaine had just put on.
“Get it, B!” Mike called out, Tina wolf whistling at the same time.
Blaine attempted to use some hand signals to let them know that he’d be heading out for the night, only for the two to give him concerned looks. “I’m leaving with him,” Blaine mouthed to them, their eyes widening in surprise. They cheered in unison. Blaine rolled his eyes, turning to head towards the exit to the club when his phone buzzed in his back pocket. He pulled it out to find a text from Brittany.
“Stay safe! Make good choices!” the message read.
Blaine turned towards where he’d seen Brittany last. She was sitting in Santana’s lap, waving to Blaine when she caught sight of him. Santana shot Blaine a dirty look, whispering something in Brittany’s ear. Blaine’s phone buzzed once again. Another message from Brittany.
“Santana says if you try anything funny she’ll skin you and wear you as a hat.”
Blaine gulped. Despite what Kurt had said Santana did seem dangerous to him. He gave the two a nervous smile before backing away towards the door. Santana ran a red manicured fingernail along her neck, a subtle threat directed at Blaine that Brittany didn’t notice. He shivered, turning his back to them and rushing off to find Kurt.
Kurt was leaning patiently against the wall beside the exit, subtly fixing his hair in the reflection of a nearby mirror. He straightened up quickly when he caught sight of Blaine, pretending he hadn’t just been fiddling with his appearance as he gave Blaine a knowing smile.
“Ready to get out of here?” he asked, hooking a finger through Blaine’s belt loop, pulling him in closer to him.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Blaine teased, stealing one last kiss for the road, his palms cupping the sides of Kurt’s head. Kurt inhaled sharply, his free hand twitching before it flew up to rest against Blaine’s. He couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up in him as Blaine broke off the kiss, sliding their fingers together.
They finally made their way out of Scandals, ignoring the envious looks from those still waiting in line to get into the club as they made their way towards the subway. The subway station was only two blocks from Scandals, but it took them a considerable amount of time to get there. Blaine stopped them twice, pressing Kurt gently up against a concrete wall to kiss him breathless.
“At this rate we’re never going to get to my apartment,” Kurt mocked once he’d finally caught his breath, Blaine pulling him in for one last kiss before releasing him from his place against the wall.
“Sorry — it’s just that I’m pretty sure this is all a dream and I want to make sure I get the most out of it before I wake up,” he said, lifting their interlaced fingers to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of Kurt’s hand.
Kurt blushed, hiding his cheeks bashfully. “Did you know you might be the most flattering guy in the city? No — the world.”
Blaine laughed. “Is that a good thing?”
Kurt hummed, smiling coyly before replying. “You tell me.”
The fire in Kurt’s eyes sent a wave of arousal over Blaine so strong it nearly knocked him back. Yup, definitely a good thing, he decided. They took one last detour before they reached the subway station, taking a minute to listen to a band of college students playing a percussion only rendition of Africa by Toto. Blaine spun in Kurt in a circle, attempting to lift him dramatically, only for the two to erupt into a fit of giggles as they nearly toppled themselves over.
The subway ride was mostly uneventful. They sat next to one another in their nearly empty car, Blaine’s fingers tracing circles starting at Kurt’s knee and dancing up and up until they were gently skirting his upper thigh. The two shared knowing looks but withheld from kissing while on the train. Blaine could feel his arousal building with each stop. Mere seconds after Kurt rested his own hand on Blaine’s thigh, wordlessly resting it there as though that was where it had always belonged, Blaine could feel himself growing hard in his already uncomfortably tight jeans.
Kurt tugged Blaine up as they arrived at his stop, Blaine marveling as he led them to a cozy, tree lined block on the Upper West Side just a block away from the train. They arrived at a modest apartment building, traveling up two flights to apartment 3B, Kurt unlocking the door to reveal a small/slightly cramped, but well furnished studio. How someone as young as Kurt managed to afford living in a studio on the Upper West Side was an anomaly to Blaine, but he didn’t dare question it.
“Well, I’m glad you suggested coming here because your place puts mine to shame,” Blaine said as he stepped into the combined living room and bedroom, admiring the array of framed Playbills lining the wall above the modest TV.
“Thank you. You’re lucky, usually it’s a lot more cramped than this,” he replied as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Roommate?” Blaine asked as he headed back towards the kitchen.
There was only one bed, and the couch didn’t seem functional for sleeping on. Blaine’s brow furrowed. “Boyfriend away on a business trip?” he asked tentatively. It wouldn’t have surprised him if someone like Kurt wasn’t single, he seemed too good to be true. Blaine couldn’t help the sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of this being the home Kurt shared with another man, finding no solace in the reminder that Kurt had still chosen to bring him here.
Kurt sputtered, choking on his water. He swallowed quickly, coughing for several seconds, his cheeks redder than they’d been all night. “N-no,” he managed to choke out in between coughs. “Definitely no boyfriend,” he reassured, sucking in a deep breath once his coughs had subsided.
“You really are a man of mystery,” Blaine teased once Kurt’s coughing fit had ended, leaning against the counter beside him.
Kurt smiled shyly, biting his lip and glancing from Blaine to the living room area behind him.
“We could watch a movie if you want,” Kurt offered.
Blaine raised a brow with a smirk, sliding his hand across the counter to rest gently around Kurt’s waist.
“Is that what you want?” he asked, sliding in front of Kurt, trapping him against the counter and leaning in just close enough for him to feel the sharp intake of Kurt’s breath against his lips.
“No,” Kurt replied breathily.
That was all Blaine needed before lunging forward, capturing Kurt’s lips. Kurt met him with equal enthusiasm, rolling his hips roughly against Blaine’s. Blaine moaned shamelessly into the kiss, his hands reaching down to grab at the back of Kurt’s thighs. He broke off the heated kiss and took a step back, Kurt whining at the loss of contact. Blaine tightened his hold on the back of Kurt’s thighs, taking a breath before lifting the other boy up onto the counter behind him. Kurt let out a high pitched yelp of surprise, his fingers digging roughly into Blaine’s shoulders as he was lifted into the air.
Once Kurt was safely seated on the edge of the counter Blaine tilted his head up to press hot, open mouthed kisses along the edge of Kurt’s jaw, his lips settling just below his ear.
“Is this what you want?” he whispered against the other boys skin, his hands now settling on the swell of Kurt’s ass, his thumbs digging into the leather clad skin.
“God yes,” Kurt moaned in reply, tilting his head back to give Blaine access to the full expanse of his neck.
Blaine made quick work of dragging his lips along the column of Kurt’s neck, sucking harshly against the other boys pulse point. He pulled Kurt by the hips closer to him, grinding himself against Kurt’s inner thigh as the sound of Kurt’s breathy moans made him so hard he could barely think. He pulled away from Kurt’s neck with a wet smack, taking a moment to admire his work. Blood had begun to pool under the surface of his skin, the dark red and purple splotch standing bright against his otherwise flawless skin. Blaine attempted to take a slight step back, only for Kurt’s legs to lift up around his waist, his ankles locking at the base of Blaine’s back.
“No. Stay here,” he commanded, his voice husky and eyes hooded with lust as he pressed his lower half flush against Blaine’s — the sensation of their cocks brushing, even through four layers of clothing, made Blaine weak.
Thankfully Kurt’s hold was strong enough to support him. Blaine leaned in to reconnect their lips once again. Kurt’s palms roamed along the toned muscle of Blaine’s chest, sliding further and further down until he was pulling the sweat slick tank top out from his jeans and tugging the fabric over his head. Blaine happily rid himself of the garment, tossing it to the ground before returning his attention to Kurt’s neck. He sucked roughly at the skin directly below the first mark he’d made, pulling away with a satisfied smirk at the sight of a second mark beginning to form.
Blaine finally turned his attention to Kurt’s skintight neon top. He peeled the top over Kurt’s head, moaning under his breath. As expected, Kurt was just as perfect beneath his clothing, his skin smooth and creamy and toned and soft to the touch.
“Please let me take you to bed,” Blaine pleaded, sliding his hand to palm over Kurt’s cock, straining against the material of his leather pants.
Kurt hissed sharply at the desperately needed contact, looking at Blaine with lust blown eyes. He nodded, wrapping his arms firmly around Blaine’s neck. Blaine moved his grip back to the backs of Kurt’s legs, lifting him up into his arms. Kurt’s ankles tightened their hold on Blaine’s waist as he was carried the short distance to the bed in the corner of the small single room. Blaine put Kurt down gently, his legs unhooking from around his waist and dangling off the edge of the bed, kicking off his boots in the process.
“How you manage to move in these is astounding,” Blaine said of Kurt’s leather pants as he attempted to undo the three buttons holding them closed.
“Years and years of practice,” Kurt replied, lifting his hips up to assist Blaine with the daunting task of literally peeling him out of his pants.
It took some wriggling on both boys’ parts, but they succeeded in ridding Kurt of the leather pants. Blaine slid his palm along the exposed skin of Kurt’s legs, wondering just how it was possible for someone to have such long, toned legs and still move as gracefully as Kurt did. He dragged his tongue along the seam of Kurt’s inner thigh, pausing as he reached the hem of his boxer briefs. He turned his attention to the opposite thigh, biting down on the skin before soothing the bite with his tongue — Kurt gasping in response. Blaine allowed himself to trail wet open mouthed kisses up Kurt’s legs to his torso, giving his hip bones extra attention, before slotting himself between Kurt’s legs, kissing him on the lips once more.
“The amount of clothing you have on right now is completely unfair,” Kurt protested in between kisses, his fingers sliding between their bodies to pull Blaine’s belt undone.
Blaine straddled Kurt’s waist, allowing the other boy to lean up and pull his belt free from his jeans. His nimble fingers quickly undid the fly on his uncomfortably tight jeans, his warm palm unexpectedly sliding beneath the fabric of Blaine’s boxer briefs. His long, thin fingers wrapped themselves around Blaine’s cock, tugging slightly before releasing, stroking lazily.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Blaine mumbled, his loud moans echoing off the thin walls as Kurt pulled his hand slowly back to his chest.
Kurt lifted a finger to his own lips, his tongue swiping a bead of precum that had gathered on the tip of his finger. Blaine groaned, crashing his lips againsg Kurt’s as he attempted to wriggle out of his jeans and boxer briefs. He kicked off his shoes without a care, the rest of his clothing following quickly after. Blaine wasted no time in hooking his fingers on the waistband of Kurt’s underwear, pulling them down and tossing them aside. He slid back over Kurt, slotting their cocks together perfectly. He moaned hot against Kurt’s cheek as he rolled his hips down against the other boys, using all of the willpower left in him not to come instantly.
Blaine slid his hand between their burning bodies, gripping his and Kurt’s cocks at once, rolling his hips in time with his strokes. Kurt threw his head back against the pillows as he arched his back in pleasure, his fingers coming up to grip Blaine’s back, his nails digging shallow crescent moons into his skin.
“W-wait!” Kurt pleaded after several seconds of sheer bliss, Blaine doing his best to still his movements.
Kurt reached between them, pulling Blaine’s hand into his and guiding it up rest beside his head. Their chests heaved against one another as they attempted to catch their breath.
“I want you to fuck me,” Kurt said in no more than a whisper, Blaine’s cock twitching with interest.
Blaine’s lips parted in surprise, the thought of fucking Kurt leaving him so dizzy he could hardly think to nod.
“I-Is that okay?” Kurt asked nervously when Blaine didn’t respond, his cheeks flushing all the way up to the roots of his hair.
“More than okay,” Blaine finally managed to say, ducking his head down to kiss and suck along Kurt’s collarbone.
Kurt smiled as he let out a breathy moan of approval, reaching with his free hand into the nightstand beside his bed. He pushed a travel size bottle of lube and a condom wrapper into the hand Blaine still had laced with his, giving Blaine a knowing look when he lifted himself back up.
As much as he wanted to cut right to the chase, Blaine took his time with Kurt. He set the bottle and the wrapper aside, pressing his lips to Kurts and allowing himself to savor the taste of the other boy. His palms roamed every bit of skin they could find, his lips following suit as they nipped, sucked, and bit their way down to Kurt’s ankle. Kurt giggled at the feather light kiss pressed to the sensitive skin of his foot, biting his lip when Blaine hooked his knee over his shoulder. Blaine popped the cap on the bottle, generously coating his fingers. He leaned forward, hiking Kurt’s leg high into the air. He pressed another kiss to the inside of the boys knee before reaching forward, his index finger circling the tight rim of Kurt’s hole.
Kurt inhaled sharply, his body tense as he prepared himself for the sensation of his body stretching around Blaine’s finger. Blaine teased him, running his finger along the rim and along his entrance, but still not pushing in. Kurt’s eyes slid closed, his body beginning to relax. He let out a whine as Blaine’s dragged roughly along his entrance, bucking his hips against Blaine, encouraging him to continue. Blaine laughed at Kurt’s eagerness, giving him what he wanted and finally pressing his index finger inside of the tight heat.
Kurt mewled, biting down on his lip as he allowed the sensation he’d been craving to wash over him. Blaine gently pumped his finger, adding more force only when he was sure Kurt was ready. He added a second finger, scissoring them slowly, smirking triumphantly at the sinful sounds Kurt was emitting. He crooked his fingers, prodding slowly until they dusted upon the familiar bundle of nerves.
“Fuck!” Kurt cried out, his body arching in pleasure as Blaine’s fingers stroked his prostate with more force.
Blaine released his hold on Kurt’s leg, letting it drop back down to the bed before he leaned forward, capturing Kurt’s nipple between his lips, his tongue lapping over the hardened nub. He kept his fingers pumping in rhythm, making sure to crook them just right to brush over Kurt’s prostate with each thrust. Once he’d given the same treatment to Kurt’s other nipple, the other boy a sweaty, writhing, beautiful mess beneath him, he added a third finger. He focused on the task of stretching Kurt this time, giving the other boy a break from the intense stimulation. He pulled back, scissoring his fingers one last time before slowly pulling them out of the tight heat, Kurt whined as his body was left clenching around nothing, aching for the blunt pressure of Blaine’s fingers to return.
Blaine ripped the condom wrapper open with his teeth, tossing the wrapper aside carelessly as he slid the rubber onto his cock. Kurt reached for the bottle of lube before Blaine could grab it, sitting up slightly as he coated his own palm. He reached out for Blaine’s condom-clad cock, stroking slowly as he spread the lube on his palm generously. Blaine muttered a string of profanities under his breath — Kurt’s warm, smooth palm against his achingly hard cock was almost too much to bear. He sucked in a calming breath as Kurt finally withdrew his hand, leaning back against the pillows behind him.
Blaine lifted Kurt’s knees once again, propping them both over his shoulders as he leaned forward, bending the other boy nearly in half. God damn he was flexible, Blaine thought to himself. He positioned his cock at Kurt’s stretched entrance, peeking up at the other boy. Kurt gave him a nod, his palm sliding up to Blaine’s chest.
With one last deep breath for confidence Blaine pushed himself into Kurt, a long, drawn out moan tumbling from his lips as his cock was enveloped by the most delicious heat he’d ever experienced. Stars clouded his vision as he willed himself to go slowly, his hips stilling once they were flush against Kurt’s. Blaine’s heartbeat was pounding in his ears, but beneath the pounding he could hear Kurt making it very clear that he wanted Blaine to move. He pulled his hips back gently, sliding them back against Kurt’s slowly at first.
Like with their dancing, it took them a moment or two to find their rhythm. Blaine was pleased to find that Kurt was just as graceful and sinfully beautiful in the throes of passion as he was on the dance floor. His fingers scrapped against every part of Blaine they could find, leaving shallow marks in their wake, the burn of the multiple cuts keeping Blaine from reaching his climax embarrassingly early.
The two mumbled encouragements to one another in between moans and sticky kisses, whispering each others names hotly against necks and jaws. Blaine almost felt guilty for feeling his climax building quicker than usual — but he knew he couldn’t help it. Kurt was so wonderfully tight and pliant beneath him and he was letting out these sounds — God those sounds — and there was absolutely no way in hell he was going to be able to last.
Blaine lifted his hand to reach between their bodies and take hold of Kurt’s cock, only for Kurt’s own hand to beat him to it. He stroked himself as best he could to match the rhythm of Blaine’s hips before Blaine’s hand knocked his away. He smiled as Blaine firmly grasped the length of his cock, hard and throbbing in Blaine’s warm hand. Blaine shifted the angle of his hips, shifting again and again until Kurt cries out in delirious ecstasy. Blaine focused his attention on stroking Kurt in time with his thrusts, making sure to hit that same angle with each rock of his hips, his cock pounding against Kurt’s swollen prostate.
The world became a blur as the stars in the corner of Blaine’s vision began to overpower him, everything fading away as he gave in to the most intense wave of pleasure that has ever come over him. It’s better than anything he’s ever experienced, and he’s sure he’d be willing to give up lists full of his favorite things if he can hold on to this feeling for just a few more seconds.
His chest was warm, slick with something other than sweat. He finally opened his eyes, pleased to find Kurt panting and breathless beneath him, his own come already beginning to dry on Blaine’s fingers. Blaine released his hold on Kurt’s softening cock, wiping off his hand on his thigh. He gingerly pulled himself out of Kurt’s throbbing hole, gently lowering Kurt’s trembling legs back onto the bed.
“Is the room spinning or is it just me?” Kurt asked as he collapsed into a heap, arms splayed out at his sides as his chest heaved with each labored breath.
“That good, huh?” Blaine teased, tying off the condom and setting it on the nightstand before sliding up to Kurt’s side, dusting light kisses along the other boys bicep.
Kurt giggled, the sound a sweet transition from the cries of ecstasy that had made his voice hoarse. He pulled Blaine in closer to him, tucking his face into the crook of Blaine’s neck, his fingertips tracing mindless patterns along Blaine’s chest.
“Don’t flatter yourself… Except you should. That was incredible,” he beamed, placing a soft kiss to Blaine’s jaw.
“It takes two to make something as incredible as that happen,” Blaine replied, running his palm along Kurt’s side before it settled against the curve of his hip. “Any interest in a round two?” he asked boldly, peppering kisses along Kurt’s freckled shoulder.
Kurt groaned, lifting himself enough to glance at the alarm clock on his night stand. It was nearly 3am. He slumped back against the pillows with a pout.
“Unless I want to head into work on four hours of sleep I’m going to have to pass.” Blaine would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed, but at the very least it seems as though Kurt had entertained the idea for a moment. Kurt turned to slot his body snugly against Blaine’s once more, his warm eyes twinkling in the dim lights of his apartment. “But if you leave me your number before you go tomorrow we can reschedule that second round?” he offered, eyes bright with hope.
“Tomorrow? Does this mean you’re letting me stay the night?”
“What kind of guy would I be if I sent you back out onto the street at this hour,” Kurt replied, already beginning to kick the top cover of his bed aside.
Blaine had admittedly never spent the night with a hookup. In fact, now that he thought about it, he’d never even wound up at a hook up’s apartment before. Sure, there had been boys he’d met while he still lived on the NYU campus and they’d returned to either of their respective dorms, but his own home was always just a short walk away. He had a decent idea of where he was and how he would get back to his place tomorrow morning, plus they were living in the Google Map era. He was less concerned about finding his way back home as he was about whether things would be awkward between the two in the morning.
Was Kurt the type bring hook ups home often? Was he the type to let boys stay the night? Or was Blaine an exception? There was still so much Blaine didn’t know about Kurt — though the possibility of a round two kept him hopeful that he’d have the chance to learn more in due time.
Kurt slid out of his bed with a grumble, pulling his underwear back on to grab his phone from the kitchen counter, grabbing Blaine’s from his discarded jeans and plugging them both into the chargers on the nightstand, turning off the lights in the process. He returned to bed, Blaine’s arms already outstretched and waiting for him. Kurt let out a quiet laugh as he allowed himself to be pulled into Blaine’s arms, snuggling against the warmth radiating from the others body. Blaine pressed his lips to Kurt’s temple, Kurt leaning up to swipe one last kiss on the lips with a cheeky grin.
“Nice to meet you, Blaine.”
Blaine smiled. “Nice to meet you, Kurt.”
And with that the two finally allowed themselves to give in to their exhaustion. Heavy eyes slid closed and their limbs melted against one another as they quickly drifted off to peaceful, undisturbed slumber.
The next morning was rather terrifying. Blaine stirred as sunlight began to pour through the window beside him, his body becoming uncomfortably warm. He winced at the brightness as he slowly opened his eyes, rolling over to the empty side of the bed. Once he blearily blinked his eyes open fully he realized he wasn’t in his own bed. The first sign should’ve been the sunlight — his room had awful natural light. The second sign should’ve been the luxuriously soft sheets he was wrapped up in. He’d purchased his own sheets from a bargain store and had been putting up with the scratchy, uncomfortable sheets for two years now. He sat up nervously, groaning as his head pounded in protest.
Thankfully Blaine hadn’t experienced many hangovers in his life, but the throbbing pain in his temples quickly proved that this was by far the worst one he’d ever had. He glanced around the small room, the clothes scattered across the floor bringing back flashes of the previous night. His cheeks flushed as he quickly began to remember the beautiful boy whose company he had the pleasure of last night. He turned to the nightstand to grab his phone, a folded up note sitting atop it.
I was serious about that second round - Kurt
Beneath the message was a phone number. Blaine beamed as he quickly entered the number into his phone, making a mental note to send Kurt a text after class. Speaking of class… Blaine checked the time, cursing under his breath when he realized it was nearly 11 in the afternoon.
“Shit,” he mumbled, getting to his feet as quickly as his headache would allow, collecting his clothing from the ground and pulling them on haphazardly.
He grabbed his belongings and headed out the door in record speed. He didn’t have class until 2:30, but he still needed to get back to his place and head back downtown for the class itself. Plus he desperately needed a shower. And coffee. And breakfast.
Normally he would’ve slowed down his walk to the subway to admire the wonderful block that Kurt lived on, checking out the various small shops that lined the street leading up to the subway. Instead he moved at a brisk pace, grabbing a bagel and coffee from a nearby deli and dodging tourists on his mad dash down into the subway to catch the train that was already sitting in the station.
Thankfully the subway wasn’t delayed for once, a miracle if Blaine had ever seen one. When he stumbled into his apartment, tripping over himself in his haste to begin pulling off his day-old clothing and jump right into the shower, Mike was passed out on the couch. It looked like he’d spent the night over at Tina’s but hadn’t actually gotten much sleep, if the hickies lining his neck were any indication.
Blaine jumped into the shower and didn’t even bother to gel his hair as he pulled on a polo and khakis. It was already 1, and he always tried his best to get to his first classes of the semester early to snag an ideal seat. He’d be damned if his lateness led to him having the worst seat in class for the rest of the semester. Mike had begun to stir by the time Blaine had loaded up his backpack and was headed for the door.
“Oh good, you’re not dead,” Mike observed, giving Blaine a thumbs up before he fell face first back against the couch cushion.
The universe continued bestowing kindness on Blaine. He arrived to class with 10 minutes to spare, which gave him enough time to grab his second choice seat before the rest of the class began to file in.
His first class, Advanced Music Theory, proved to be a bit dull, but informative nonetheless. The professor handed out their first assignment — a thicker packet than Blaine would’ve expected — to his grumbling students. Blaine frowned, he still had another class that day, plus an info session on the drama department’s fall musical that evening, plus his internship the following day. He had no idea when he’d be able to find the time to get caught up on his work. And here he’d thought that this was going to be a light semester.
By the end of the day the homework had been completely forgotten. To be fair, it had wound up at the bottom of a pile of even more work Blaine had received. His second class, Queer Performance, had been a class Blaine had been looking forward to since he’d signed up for it in the spring. The professor, a Tisch legend, was harsher than Blaine had expected, kicking one student out for racing into the class one minute late. He’d attempted to plead his case, but the professor had whacked the ruler in her hand against the blackboard and demanded that he leave her sight. Everyone remained silent for the rest of the lecture. No one dared to complain when she assigned a 50 page reading due in two days.
Blaine used what little energy he had left to get a head start on his music theory packet before giving up just before 10pm. He didn’t even have the energy to chat with Mike about his day or how his evening with Kurt had gone, much less make himself dinner. He grabbed a protein bar from a box beneath his bed, scarfing it down before setting an alarm for the next day, and completely collapsing onto his bed.
Thankfully, Blaine’s awakening the next morning wasn’t nearly as rough as Monday morning. His headache was gone, his bones no longer ached, and he actually felt decently well rested. He would be heading downtown for his first day interning at Sue Sylvester Productions, and he was grateful he wouldn’t have to guzzle down gallons of caffeine to get through the day. He made sure to gel his hair, unlike the previous morning, carefully selecting the perfect bow tie to compliment today’s polo and khakis ensemble.
When he stepped out into the living room, prepared to take on the day, Mike was in the exact same position he’d been in the previous morning, passed out face down on the couch.
“You know you have your own bed you can sleep in, right?” Blaine called from the kitchen, rustling Mike out of his slumber.
“But it’s so comfy here,” he replied as he lazily stretched out, opening his eyes to peek up at Blaine. “You look dapper,” he complimented.
“It’s my first day at my internship.”
“Oh right! Go kill it!” Mike cheered as he hopped off the couch, bouncing up to Blaine to give him a fist bump for luck before he headed out the door.
The commute was peaceful, the weather was delightful, and there weren’t even as many tourists as there usually were to shove through as Blaine made his way to the Times Square based office. All in all, things were shaping up to make for a pretty great day. Blaine entered the lobby of the building, signing in with security before he was sent up to the 19th floor. A cheerful red headed woman was seated behind a fold out table in the elevator bank, a stack of folders and name tags sitting before her.
“Welcome to Sue Sylvester Productions! You must be one of our Fall interns. My name is Emma Pillsbury, I’m one of our internship coordinators,” she greeted, standing up to shake Blaine’s hand once he approached the table. “Your name?”
“Great! It’s wonderful to meet you, Blaine,” she replied, handing Blaine a folder and a nametag that read: Blaine Anderson: NYU ‘18. “You can head on in to the conference room and join the others. Orientation will be starting in about 10 minutes.”
Blaine thanked Emma before making his way into the office. He took his time on the way to the conference room, ogling the various framed posters that lined every wall of the office. The majority of the posters were for notable Broadway productions from the past decade, a handful of the posters sporting signatures from the entire original casts. Blaine gawked when he caught sight of a set of seven Tony Awards sitting atop a shelf, each one delicately placed inside of a glass case.
Several other interns had already taken their seats in the conference room. Two people were chatting away animatedly, pausing when Blaine entered. He waved nervously, debating where to sit. The table was set with 10 chairs, and 3 people had already arrived. Two of them appeared to know each other, as they quickly returned to their conversation without acknowledging Blaine. A quick glance at their nametags confirmed this theory. Sebastian Smythe: Columbia ‘18 and Hunter Clarington: Columbia ‘19. Blaine decided to take a seat beside the other intern, a brunette girl who was hugging her backpack to her chest and was flipping through her folder. Blaine struggled to read her name tag, as it was mostly covered by her backpack. She sat back slightly, revealing that she was Marley Rose, NYU ‘20.
“Oh, hey, I go to NYU too,” Blaine said in an attempt to strike up a conversation, proudly gesturing to his own name tag.
The girl was a bit startled by Blaine’s voice, taking a moment to register what he’d said and taking a look at his nametag. She smiled shyly, but remained silent, her cheeks flushing.
“What’s your major?” Blaine asked. He figured if she didn’t respond he would leave her alone, but there was no harm in attempting to make a friend.
Blaine was surprised. The drama department wasn’t as large as one might think. In his three years at NYU he’d gotten to know most of the members of the drama department, and he had definitely never encountered a Marley Rose before. Then again, it was clear that she was shy, maybe she’d managed to slide under the radar amongst her loud and eccentric classmates.
“I’m also studying drama. Weird, I don’t think we’ve met before.”
Marley shrugged. “I just transferred this year. I was at Oklahoma State last year.”
“Oh, awesome. I’d be happy to show you around some time if you want?” he offered. He remembered how moving to New York from the midwest had been such an enormous culture shock. He had never been as reserved as Marley, but it took him a long time to adjust to the brash, outlandishness of New York City.
“Oh… Yeah, I’d like that. Thanks,” Marley said with a smile, finally beginning to warm up to him.
Blaine and Marley chatted about their respective classes and how she was liking the city as the other interns began to pour in. Blaine introduced himself and Marley to them as they filed in. Some were friendlier than others — Mercedes Jones from Pace and Artie Abrams from The New School happily joined in on Marley and Blaine’s conversation about the best pizza in the city. Kitty Wilde, a Columbia sophomore, immediately took her place besides Sebastian and Hunter, the threesome never breaking to chat with or introduce themselves to their coworkers. Jake Puckerman of Hunter College said nothing when he arrived, ignoring the greetings from Blaine’s group and taking a seat at back of the conference room. Marley looked over Blaine’s shoulder to get a good look at Jake, her gaze lingering for just a moment too long. Blaine raised a brow at her, giving her a suspicious look. She blushed, ducking her head and turning her attention to Mercedes.
The group conversations quickly ended when Emma reentered the room, greeting everyone once again with a radiant smile. Her bright yellow dress and ruby red heels paired with her smile made her seem like sunshine personified.
“Welcome everyone! Once again, I’m Emma Pillsbury and it’s my pleasure to welcome you all to Sue Sylvester Productions’ fall internship program!” The group gave her a polite round of applause, the Columbia trio smiling smugly. “Before we begin our presentation on the program guidelines and what to expect, I’d like to introduce you to your full internship coordination team,” Emma announced, opening the conference room door to let in two more people.
“Along with myself, Kurt Hummel and Santana Lopez will be working directly with you all throughout the semester.”
Blaine’s jaw practically hit the ground as Kurt and Santana stepped in to the room — Kurt just as beautiful as ever and immaculately dressed in a tailored vest and dark purple button down, paired with grey slacks. Santana and Kurt smiled for the group, waving as their eyes took in the students before them. Blaine’s heart raced as Kurt’s eyes slowly circled the group, time slowing to a glacial pace as he finally caught sight of Blaine.
Kurt let out a choked sound of surprise, Santana giving him a look and jabbing him in the ribs before she looked up and caught sight of Blaine too, her eyes widening. She dug her fingers into Kurt’s arm, Emma giving them both an odd look. Kurt looked as though he was going to faint at any moment. The two remained silent, eyes unable to break away from each other.