A/N: Okay. So this is based of this amazing fan-made trailer on YouTube by Alison447 ( /watch?v=J-xlhlOJuro&feature=player_embedded) and you should definitely check it out because it is amazing. So amazing I just had to write a fic about it. And so did many other people, as it turns out.

I, myself, know of at least 5 other fics with this title based off of that trailer. What can I say? It's a great premise and I take no credit for the basic idea of this story. I also recommend you go and check out those other fics if you like the video, especially the one by "beautifulwhatsyourhurry" on Scarves&Coffee.

Anyway, this is my take on it. I am NOT competing with these other stories and I planned out most of my version before I read any of the others, so any similarities (that aren't in the video, obviously) are purely coincidental and/or subconscious. I just really love this idea and was really excited to write about it so I did.

Anywho, some notes about the story. Everything's pretty cannon except Blaine is straight and has been at McKinley since freshman year and he and Rachel have been dating almost as long. I don't have a specific time in my head but this is probably sometime around season 2.

Some warnings for language, and hopefully smut later on if everything works out. I don't know yet if there will be violence. As of now I'm not planning any but you never know.

Sorry for the long note (the others won't be this long) and please enjoy my interpretation of "One More Night." :)

Rachel Berry. Berry was right. She was the sweetest thing anyone had ever seen. She was so tiny and adorable and beautiful. She had the cutest laugh and her nose would scrunch up when she used it. Her hair was so dark and shiny and perfect and she always dressed like she had a team of designers and make-up artists working on her around the clock. And, in addition to all that aesthetic appeal, she was full of confidence, and determination, and, well, volume. And, dear god, she could sing. To hear her perform a ballad or lead a group number was to be reborn into the world of music. Your ears and soul would never be the same again.

That was the general consensus around the school anyway. She was the hottest thing at McKinley high. Well, other than the obvious exception.

The truth was that the only person more desirable than Rachel Berry, in the whole world it seemed, but most definitely in the school, was her dream-boat boyfriend. But more on him later.

The point was, she had a boyfriend. A superhot, super-popular boyfriend. Who could keep up with her in every respect. Which really really sucked for guys like Finn.

Finn Hudson stared longingly as the object of his affection strode past him in the crowded hallway. She looked stunning, as always. Today she was wearing even less than usual though: A white tube-top, a tight, black mini-skirt and matching jacket, and the sexiest heels Finn had ever seen. Her shirt was tied off above her navel exposing the smooth, caramel-colored skin beneath. Her make-up was perfect, lips redder than blood, skin flawless, and eyes smokey as hell. On top of that, her dark, gorgeous locks were tangled into two braided pigtails that were doing scary things to Finn's brain.

As she glided past him, without ever meeting his gaze or even glancing in his direction, a delicious wave of lavender shampoo and pomegranate body spray washed over him, making him dizzy.

Finn's breath caught as he stared after her. Good god she was amazing. Finn really didn't understand why she thought she needed all that make-up though. She was plenty beautiful without all that help. He'd always had a thing for natural-looking girls and Rachel Berry rarely "dressed down" but there was just something about her...

Finn supposed her boyfriend liked his girl all "done-up" like that. Like some sort of painted doll or trophy wife. As if he needed another reason to hate Anderson's guts.

Speak of the devil. Blaine Anderson turned around the corner at that moment, his face lighting up with a dazzling smile when he saw his lady walking toward him, the two of them attracting every eye in the hall. Finn's face crumpled in pain and he forced himself to look away as their lips collided with one another, Blaine's hands gripping Rachel's perfect waist and her brightly polished finger tips lightly stroking the stubble on his tan, perfectly-formed jaw. They just looked so fucking adorable together. It made Finn sick.

Mercedes Jones leaned against the wall of lockers and stared, unashamedly, at the disgusting display going on down the hall. Why not? Everyone else was looking. And those two knew they were looking. They wanted to be seen.

The AnderBerry kisses were not only very public and very intense but they were also very long. Like they wanted make sure everyone got a chance to see the two hottest, most popular people in school passionately sucking face in front in front of them. It was kind of gross, actuallly. But there was a logic behind it. They were both hot and desirable and either could have anyone they wanted and everyone knew that. Including each other. They were staking out their territory. This hot pice of ass is mine. Hands off!

That's how Mercedes saw it anyway. What other reason could they possibly have for doing that so often and for so long? Was kissing really that pleasurable? She felt a familiar pang of regret as she remembered, once again, that she had no idea.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" She mused longingly.

Her best friend, Kurt Hummel, peaked his head out from his locker beside her and followed her gaze. His nose wrinkled in distaste when he saw where she was staring.

"Oh honey," he said, "that is not something to aspire to. If and when you do kiss someone, I hope it will be something special and intimate. Not some sort of side show or power play." His voice was dripping with disgust. Mercedes thought maybe she heard something else in there too, but she couldn't place it.

Blaine and Rachel finally detached their faces and started off down the hall together, hand in hand. The crowd before them parted like the freaking Red Sea. Those two were like gods here and everyone knew it.

Mercedes looked over at her friend. "I know," she said, "that's not kissing. That's pure exhibitionism. But really, though. Have you ever kissed anyone?"

Kurt tore his eyes away from the power couple and looked at her, his eyes softening.

"No," he said quietly, "I haven't." For a moment his eyes darted back to Blaine and Rachel, an inexplicable emotion flickering across his face. Was that...yearning? "But I want to," he said quietly, before turning quickly back to his locker, cheeks blushing red.

Mercedes eyes widened as something clicked into place. "Oh. My. God."

Kurt buried his face in locker even though he was already holding all the books he needed. Mercedes turned to face him properly.

"You totally want it with Anderson!"

"I do not."

He wasn't convincing anybody.

"Yes, you do! 'Fess up white boy. You want it bad." She poked him in the chest with her finger.

"And you don't?" Kurt turned on her, his voice even higher than normal, "Everyone's in love with those two."

"Of course he's gorgeous, " Mercedes replied, "he's sex on a stick and he sings like a dream but that doesn't mean I want him want him."

Kurt didn't answer. He slammed his locker shut.

"There's nothing wrong with having a crush, Kurt."

Mercedes didn't understand why Kurt looked so upset about this. Kurt leaned his forehead against the closed locker door, eyes shut.

"I know that, 'Cedes, I just...," he sighed, "I really like him. And..." He opened his eyes and looked at her helplessly, "And I know I shouldn't and I hate myself for it. He's so... and he's straight... and taken...and he's just..." He floundered for words.

Mercedes put a comforting hand on his arm. "It's okay, hun. We don't have to talk about it."

Kurt nodded gratefully.

Mercedes smiled sadly at her best friend. She knew what it was like to be in love with someone unattainable. She wouldn't wish that pain on anyone.

Later that day, Kurt Hummel was sitting in glee club watching the man he man he dreamed about at night sing and dance with the girl he dreamed about at night. Of course the two dreams were very different. He often dreamed of doing violent and comical things to Rachel, while his dreams of Blaine were... well they were still violent sometimes but in a good way. In a really, really great way that made him blush to even remember in public.

The truth was Kurt knew he was way too infatuated with Blaine for it to be considered healthy. And he freaking hated himself for it. Blaine Anderson was a straight, stuck-up, self-absorbed, jock and Kurt knew that. He knew Blaine would never look at him in a million years unless it was over the counter at the Lima Bean. He knew Blaine was just like all the rest. He didn't want to like him. And yet...

Blaine twirled Rachel around in particularly sexy move that caused Kurt's heat to skip a beat. He couldn't help wishing it was him up there. Holding Blaine's hand, the man's strong voice mixing with his own, Blaine's hand on his hip...

Kurt shook the images from his head. No.

While Blaine himself had never actually shoved Kurt into a locker, or slushied him, or tossed him a dumpster, he was friends with plenty of people who had and never once had he done anything to stop it. Of course, neither had any of his other "friends" in glee.

Kurt sometimes felt totally alone in this school. Even though people called themselves his friends, no one really got what was going on with him. He couldn't really talk to anyone about anything real. He had Mercedes, of course, but there was only so much she could do for him or him for her. More than anything, he wanted someone who could understand him. Being the only out kid in McKinely, actually in all of Lima for that matter, was rough. And draining. And lonely. But what did the world want from him? He was a teenage boy. He had urges and crushes and yet he was forbidden to act on or even show them. It was so unfair sometimes Kurt just wanted to scream.

Like now, when the boy of his dreams was clutching that beautiful girl to his chest and grinning adorably like he was the happiest man in the world. Why couldn't Kurt have someone to hold him like that? Why couldn't he kiss his boyfriend in the hallway or hold his hand? Why couldn't he be happy too?

He knew why it couldn't happen with Blaine. That was painfully obvious. But he didn't know the answers to those other questions. Oddly enough though, it was the answer, and not the questions, that caused his aching heart to throb the most.

The prince and princess finished their duet and, after an obnoxious little bow, returned to their usual seats in the front row near the band. Rachel scooted her chair so close to Blaine's she was practically sitting on top of him, though he didn't seem to mind.

Near the end of practice, Mr. Shuester assigned them their homework for the week. This week was all about working together since Mr. Schue had been picking up on the not-so-subtle aura of "me-talk" that had been circling around the glee club lately. Most of it, Kurt thought, had been emanating from the left side of the room, but he wasn't entirely innocent either. In a room so full of star-power and super-divas, he practically had to scream to get noticed. And Kurt Hummel was not one to let anyone walk over him, least of all Rachel Snog-a-thon Berry. So, had he been fighting for solos? Of course he had. He wasn't going to apologize for that.

Mr. Schue, however, seemed to be taking issue with the fact that practically everyone in glee club had taken on a similar attitude. They were supposed to be a team. And if they were going to have any chance against the Warblers at Sectionals they needed to start acting like one.

"So," He concluded, "This week's assignment is..." he turned around and quickly scribbled the next word on the white board, "...duets."

There was a collective groan from the rest of the members as Rachel immediately perked up.

"Perfect," said Santana sourly, "Now we get to listen to even more nausea-inducing warbling from the hobbit twins. Seriously, you two are better than ipecac. I haven't been able to keep my lunch down in weeks."

"Enough, Santana," said Schue, quickly cutting in as Rachel opened her mouth to respond. He turned to the class, "Hopefully, we'll be mixing it up a little this time," he glanced briefly in the direction of Blaine and Rachel before returning his attention to the group, "You will not be choosing you own duet partners for this assignment."

Collective gasps and groaning sprung up around the room. Mr. Schue raised a hand to calm their protests.

"Instead," he continued, "partners will be chosen by drawing names out of a hat. This hat." He picked up an overturned black fedora from the top of the piano and held it out. "Now, when I call your name, come up and pick a slip out of the hat. The name you draw will be your duet partner. And I don't want to hear any whining. This is a team-building exercise, guys."

There were scattered grumbles of assent as the glee members shifted uncomfortably in their seats. There was no way this could end well. The glee club had done a pretty amazing job so far of pulling together students from all levels of the caste system that was McKinley High School and getting them to work together but even glee had its limits. There were still lingering feelings of trepidation and separation even in their little band of misfit toys. Despite a communal love for song and dance and attention there still existed a distinct line between the jocks, Cheerios, & populars and the invisibles at the bottom of the social heap. Invisibles whose only breath of fresh, non-filtered air actually came from their participation in a club that did in fact lay claim to membership by those same populars.

Nobody was particularly eager to cross that line and upset the tenuous status quo that they'd managed to establish in the choir room. Peaceful co-existence was about all they were prepared to guarantee at the moment. But it looked like Mr. Schue was about to step up and rock the boat once again. The growing apprehension in the little room was almost palpable.

"Alright, come on up," said Schue a little too cheerily for Kurt's liking. One by one the club members reluctantly stepped up and stuck their hand into the hat of doom. The local bad-ass, Puck, was first, looking terrified of reaching into the fedora as though it might bite his hand off. He pulled out the piece of paper and his nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Mercedes," he grumbled. Mercedes shot him an equally disgusted look.

Artie rolled up next and pulled his slip, "Quinn," he read happily surprised. Quinn, the beautiful head-cheerleader, raised her eyebrows in amusement. Artie's girlfriend, Brittany cocked her head and frowned possessively.

Santana Lopez was next. She looked at her name and smiled wickedly, "Trouty-mouth." Her football player boyfriend, Sam smiled and rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

Brittany scurried up to the hat next. Santana stayed put and helped Brittany read the name she pulled. She whispered in her best friend's ear and Brittany said aloud, "Rory." The Irish exchange student smiled brilliantly.

Kurt was called up next. He sighed. The only girls left unpaired were Tina and Rachel. While Tina was a lovely girl, her voice was comparatively weak and he hated the idea of being held back in that way. Yet he shuddered even more at the thought of picking Rachel. While her voice was definitely the strongest in the group and she would have no problem keeping up with him- in fact, now that Kurt actually thought about, their voices would probably sound amazing together- he dreaded the idea of spending so much time with the girl. And not just because she was loquacious and overbearing. But because he'd have to sing with her, rehearse with her, and talk to her knowing that, when they were done, she would be the one who got to home to Blaine. Who got to kiss him and hug him and tell him about her day. The thought was enough to make him feel physically ill.

He slowly approached the front of the room, resigned to misery either way. He reached in and pulled out a slip. He unfolded the paper and read Mr. Schue's tidy scrawl.

He froze.

No way.

He blinked rapidly and shook his head as if that would somehow make what he was seeing more real.

He looked again.

But the writing remained unchanged.

The name was still there.

Still just sitting there. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like it was perfectly happy to resting in Kurt Hummel's shaking hands right now.

Blaine Anderson.

Kurt couldn't breathe. He just stood there. Staring at the tiny piece of paper in front of him, terrified that if he looked away it might disappear.

"Kurt?" Mr. Schue's voice cut through his stupor. He started and looked up. Every eye in the room was on him.

"Blaine," he whispered. Still not quite able to believe it.

"Sorry?"

Kurt cleared his throat, "Blaine," he said a little louder.

Kurt couldn't bring himself to meet Blaine's eyes but whatever his reaction was quickly became immaterial as Rachel's outrage immediately occupied the silence.

"This is ridiculous, Mr. Schue! Blaine and I have proven ourselves to be the most superior match-up the New Directions has to offer. There is no need for either of us to sing with anyone else. This is preposterous. Blaine and I need to practice our performance for Sectionals, we can't waste time on songs we can't possibly use..." Pretty much everyone else in the room rolled their eyes as Rachel ranted on and on, her voice becoming increasingly shrill.

It took a while for Mr. Schue and Blaine to calm Rachel down, reminding her of the rules of this assignment and that it was just a song and dear god Rachel will you calm down, you're going to loose your voice if you keep screaming like that and then we'll have no chance at Sectionals, blah blah blah.

But Kurt wasn't listening. Somehow he'd found his way back to his seat in the back of the room next to Mercedes and he was still staring dumbly at the slip of paper in his hand.

Blaine Anderson.

Could this really be happening? Was this some sort of cruel joke? Was he dreaming? There was just no way this could be real. Things like this didn't happen to Kurt Hummel. They just didn't.

Even after Schue and Blaine had managed to subdue Rachel's outburst, the remaining time was a blur to Kurt. He was pretty sure Tina and Mike were paired because there was some confusion when Tina read out "Other Asian," and he was vaguely aware of Rachel being unhappily paired with Finn, but he wasn't really paying attention. Kurt's mind was reeling.

Blaine.

I'm singing a duet with Blaine.

Blaine is singing a duet with me.

Blaine and I are going to be in the same room. At the same time.

Possibly alone.

The very thought made him blush.

He was somewhat aware of Mercedes smirking at him and nudging him playfully with her elbow but he was too distracted to care.

Slowly, a small smile began to creep it's way onto Kurt's face as the reality of the situation settled in his mind. Blaine was going to know he existed. He was going to hear him sing and actually listen. He was going to spend a part of his day thinking about Kurt instead of Rachel. And for a few precious moments, Kurt was going to get his wish. He was going to up there, in the front of the room, singing a duet with Blaine.

But suddenly another thought intruded on his fantasy and nearly smashed all of those good feelings to pieces. This doesn't change anything, he scolded himself harshly, He's still straight and he's still with Rachel. You're still a nobody to him.

For the fist time since picking his name, Kurt dared a glance in Blaine's direction. He was sitting there, still cute as ever, with his arm draped comfortably over Rachel's shoulders. Looking not at all upset by the recent turn of events.

Kurt shifted in his seat. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. This wasn't going to be his fairy-tale ending. It was true, Blaine was still very straight and very taken but maybe that was okay. Maybe, at the very least, by the end of this Blaine wouldn't think he was such a loser anymore. Maybe he'd see him for the talented, caring, ambitious young man that he was. Maybe they could even be friends.

Woa, he cut himself off. Careful not to get too carried away.

Still, he still felt a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach when he glanced from the name in his hand to the man and then back again.

I'm singing a duet with Blaine.

I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. I don't have a beta or anything so please forgive any minor mistakes and let me know if I've made any whoppers.

I'm really bad at the whole "staying on task" thing so it'll probably be a while before the next update but I promise you it IS coming. I will NOT abandon this fic. There, I said it. Now I have to finish it.

Any and all reviews are greatly appreciated. They make my day and will probably make me work faster. ;)

Thanks for reading.

-Alaska