Authors notes: This is what I get for becoming addicted to Ashling's diary and Step it up and Dance LOL. Erm…I'm sorry xD I know I shouldn't be getting distracted putting up so many stories but I want to share with you guys! But this wont be as fast updating cos I only have like….4/5 chapters written hope you all like xxx

D/C: I don't own glee or its members, I'm not making a profit off of this.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-Doing what you want is never an easy feat in life. Very few people can honestly say that for their time on Earth they are doing something they really care about, something they're actually passionate about, and something they truly love.

Blaine Anderson is one of the few who can say he does do the one thing that makes him happy.

From the age of four, the child had had a passion for dance, particularly hip hop. At six he was participating in BBoy competitions against not only kids his own age, but adults, too. Some claimed it was the cuteness factor that won the six year old the title of youngest ever winner of the LA regional BBoy championship, but the fact was, it was pure talent. Blaine Anderson was gifted.

His home was a shrine of medallions and trophies won in competitions. The majority were first place, but like everyone else, Blaine had had a bout of bad luck, in which he would sometimes only come second. This was a disappointment for Blaine but he knew one thing. Every competition he entered, he was damn well sure of a prize.

The young dancer travelled America . He was a rising star, he was going places, and he loved every minute.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It was spring time, summer just around the corner, and kids in school were getting ready for exams. Still, there were two months of education left for most children. Blaine didn't have to experience that. He was home schooled. His parents always gave their full support of his dancing, and even travelled with him across the country. He would have been in his final year of high school, but couldn't remember clearly the last time he was in an educational establishment. All he could remember was recess when he was outside, wowing other seven year-olds with his moves.

Still, he had to study. There were no competitions on at the moment, or at least none that interested a dancer with such a high standard as himself, so he and his parents retired home to Ohio. He hadn't been back to his house in the city of Lima in months. There was a nice feeling as they entered the small home, it was so familiar.

Of course, the prestigious competitions Blaine entered earned money, money that could move the Anderson's from their small, suburban home, but they loved the residence.

As much as the young man loved to travel he loved to come back to his roots where everything was familiar. He dumped his bags in his room, looked at the poster of musical and dance stars who littered his pale blue wall and smirked. The single bed that was stowed away in the corner needed a change of sheets, and when he sat on his lazyboy, dust rose from it. His room really did need a clean, which his mother noticed when she looked in the door of her son's bedroom.

"Blaine…" She moaned, gazing at the mess. "You're not even here and you're room is a pigsty." Her son smirked; giving her his best innocent face which he knew melted her heart.

"You love me really mom." He mooches and she laughed despite herself, gazing at the empty pizza box located on top of his locker and the half full glass of Coke, which had been sitting there for months.

"You know I do, sweetheart," She said softly, "So are you going to clean this room?" Blaine sighed and threw his head back on the Lazyboy.

"Do I have to?" He moaned and his mother nodded, giving him her best 'Yes, because I said so' look. Blaine stomped one foot like a five year old with a tantrum and his mother laughed at the pout on his lips. Helena Anderson loved her only son with all her heart, but he had the temperament of a three year old.

"Blaine, for someone so particular about everything being perfect you sure do let your bedroom get out of hand." Blaine sighed, forcing himself up off the beanbag.

"Dancing and cleaning are different." Blaine said as he walked towards the door , which his mother blocked.

"Where do you think you're going, mister?" The older woman asked, her tone soft but firm like all mothers. It made he boy moan.

"I'm gonna go practice." He stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His mother laughed and shook her head.

"What about your room?" The youth shrugged and ducked underneath his mother's arm, darting out of the space. Helena spun around to see her boy scooping his hoodie off the patch of floor beside the doorway. She did not have an impressed look on her face, but Blaine turned and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"See you later mom." He laughed, backing away in a flawless moon dance which also caused his mother to giggle. She gazed as the teen then spun around and rushed towards the front door.

"DO SOME STUDYING AS WELL!" Helena called after her son, but she was unsure he heard her as the front slammed in the middle of her words. Helena laughed and walked along the hall. She had always been supportive of her son. Being a teacher herself she was able to home school him as they travelled across America, so it wasn't like her son was missing out on anything, except maybe friends. He met lots of people, stayed in contact through emails, but he never had people to hang around with. He had never been a part of a husband, Patrick, had been a little less supportive at first, but seeing all the medals his son won encouraged him to support the youth in his ventures. They knew their boy had a bright future ahead of him. As well as talented, he was good at his school work, but he really didn't need to be. None of them could see him going to college. He was most definitely going to have a future in dancing. He said it himself, he couldn't see himself anywhere else in years to come.

Helena smiled at one of the trophies her son had won for a BBoy competition. Still she went off, needing to cook her husbands dinner for when he came back from hopefully getting back his job, which had been put on hold.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Blaine had been disappointed to find out the fate of the hall he used to practice in. It had been demolished to make way for a parking lot. This left the youth to wander the town, wondering where he could possibly practice. The hall was rarely used and he loved it. Since no one was ever there, he never feared his moves being stolen.

An hour passed and the boy was no closer to finding anywhere. He had been stopped a few times by people who recognized him off the internet, videos or whatever reason. He always found this flattering, but anytime it happened Blaine found this smug stranger would rise within him, and he would become a cocky jackass, but that was his niche. People seemed to love smug Blaine. The kind who waltzed into competitions and knew he was going to take them all by storm.

The dancer grew bored of searching and taking his mother's words to heart, so he made his way to the library. Helena had told him she would be testing him on history next week so he needed to brush up on the Boston Tea Party.

The eighteen year old searched through the stacks of books for something that would help when he noticed a teenage boy, not much younger than Blaine creeping in, a video camera in one hand and a boom box in the other. Blaine leaned against the shelf to look at the boy as he played with his camera. What was he doing?

No one saw the well built, brunettee boy bend down to the stereo and press a button. They all jumped when Flo Rida's "Low" erupted in the quiet study area. Blaine gazed as the doors of the library flung open noisily and four young men wearing plain, white masks rushed in. Blaine watched intently as one got up on the table, causing three young girls to pull their chairs away. The male pressed one hand to the wooden table, raising the rest of his body into the air in BBoy pose. His arms were well built and buff and he easily supported his entire body with one hand. On the floor one guy was performing popping movements in time to the beats and two others were mimicking each others moves, currently flipping.

The brunettee with the camera tried to catch in every detail of the dancers as the guy on the table with the strong arms and black hair jumped off the support, startling the girls. Blaine could hear them laugh as one guy, a brunette broke away from the group and spun on his head only to stop, leaning on one shoulder as well as his head, legs bent in the air. Blaine marvelled at the control of his body as he held the pose while the other three popped and locked, giving the patrons of the library a spectacle. Blaine watched the masked dancers perform, but two librarians approached and it was the guy with the camera who saw them. The professional dancer watched him kick the boom box, and it turned off automatically before he and the four dancers rushed to the exit be to prevent getting yelled at.

Forgetting his studies, Blaine couldn't help but drop the history book, and rush out after the five boys who were running down the many steps of the library, laughing loudly. He watched one run along the stone wall that led from the top of the steps to the bottom. It was the slight brunette. Blaine gazed, noting his balance and how he didn't stumble once only to reach the bottom and jump off the wall complete with a flip. He landed with the skill of a cat, earning claps and cheers from his fellow masked partners in crime.

Blaine rushed down the steps, not bothering with any fancy moves as he only wanted to reach the street dancing teenagers. They were already rushing along the sidewalk, laughing and cheering, all but the brunettee still wearing his white faceless mask.

The half Irish male watched as the five rushed into a corner alley and he jogged after them. They ran fast as if they had done this before. Blaine stood at the end of the side street, watching as they all collapsed on the ground or leaned against the fire escapes of the high rise, Lima buildings.

The brunettee kid was still filming with his camera and one youth-who Blaine only realized now had a Mohawk-took the equipment and tore off his mask, holding the lenses to his face.

"And that's how we do it!" He laughed loudly as did the others who all removed their masks. There was one who was a strong athletic build, short black hair and a youthful face. Another was a young Asian, very wiry but with fine arms and finally there was the brunette.

Blaine's heart skipped a beat.

He was slender, but toned with a body to rival the best dancers. He didn't wear the baggy clothing most hip hop dancers wore, but a tight plain t-shirt and something like bondage pants without the chains. Blaine silently wondered how the youth could move so gracefully while clad in such attire. He had seen the stranger do a back flip in the library and that flip outside. The way the brunette's body moved was nothing short of amazing, and now from this short distance Blaine could see every feature, and knew that this guy was wasn't exactly a secret Blaine was gay, he just never told anyone. He never lied about it. Never once did he claim he was straight. He had even slept with a guy before and it was fantastic, but this guy on front of him…wow.

He was about five foot ten inches, and had a lean body, strong but slender, with dancer's legs, which Blaine knew would be able to hold onto him as he fucked the youth against a wall. His slender, pink lips formed a cute, crooked smile that lit up his seemingly icy, blue eyes.

He couldn't stop smiling, showing off his perky whites and his cheeks were flushed pink which contrasted with the china colour of his skin. His body was a temple Blaine longed to worship.

The brunette hopped off the ladder he was perched on, to stand in front of the four other boys and talk to them, although about what, Blaine couldn't hear. He was fixated on the boy's round, tightly clad ass, which was visible to him, now that the youth had his back to the male. Laughter sounded from the others as the brunette spoke. From what Blaine assumed he was the leader of the small troop. He gained looks of admiration from his fellow dancers, and had an air of kind authority that even Blaine sensed. Unable to take it anymore the young man approached, wanting to get a better look at this guy.

The 'Mohawk guy' was the first to see him and cast him a look that told Blaine he hadn't been recognised. Evidently this guy wasn't into the popular hip hop scene. The brunette noticed his friends attention spans waver away from his words, and turned to see what they were all looking at. His eyes widened and he gazed at Blaine who smirked, finally having been known.

"You're B-Blaine Anderson!" He gasped, with a look as if he had just met his idol. "Oh my god." Blaine smirked and nodded as he saw the Mohawk guy look to another and whisper. His mutter was loud enough for all of them to hear, "Who's Blaine Anderson?"

The brunette spun around suddenly to glare at his friend.

"Blaine Anderson? Puck, you don't know him? He's like the youngest winner ever of the LA and Ohio regional BBoy championships?" Puck shrugged and the brunette shook his head, opening his mouth to say something else when Blaine cut him off.

"Hey, what's your name?" He asked the brunette who spun around. The jeans, which were ridiculously tight anyways, still managed to slide just a fraction down so Blaine could see the tip of his ass crack. He also only noticed the lip ring on the boy's full bottom lip. He thought he would die of filthy thoughts there and then.

"K-Kurt." The boy stuttered, holding out his hand a little too eagerly to shake that of his idol. Blaine took the boy's hand and could see the look of intense admiration on his face. He smirked as he pictured how the brunette would appear underneath him, screaming in ecstasy as Blaine filled him with seed. Blaine was snapped from his dirty thoughts when he realised Kurt was talking, stuttering actually.

"I-I'm so sorry you had to see that…" Kurt mumbled in reference to their dancing. "God, I feel like we're all such idiots…t-that dancing was really crap; I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Hey!" The one called Puck yelled out as if offended their leader was calling them crap. Blaine smiled and watched Kurt turn to them.

"I'm not saying it's that we were crap," he hissed, "I'm saying the routine was, and I'm sorry for coming up with it you guys…" There was a joined mumble from the crowd in which they agreed it was certainly Kurt 's fault, but a laugh afterwards from all of them told Blaine they weren't serious. They all seemed to really like Kurt and no wonder. He was funny, seemed down to earth, and fucking hot. Kurt placed his thumbs in the pocket of his jeans, and looked to Blaine. "I'm sorry about that." Blaine shrugged.

"Don't worry about it." He said in a hushed tone. God this guy really was gorgeous. Blaine was contemplating just about every possible way to just get him on his back.

"Thanks, but we have a lot of shaping up to do if we want to get into the Hip Hop Championships this summer."

"I can help!" Blaine blurted out, seeing it as the perfect opportunity to somehow get Kurt into bed. He watched the blush extend across the brunettes cheeks.

"A-are you serious?" He stuttered. "Y-you wanna help…us?" Blaine smirked as a confirmation, watching as Kurt turned to his troop, who all nodded swiftly at the idea. He couldn't help but feel smug, hell yeah, they wanted him! Kurt turned back to the rising star with a dorky grin on his face. "A-awesome…that would really help….t-thanks…" Blaine shrugged, and gave Kurt one more once over with his eyes.

"I'm sure you'll be able to think of some way to repay me." He replied.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Authors notes: I'm sorry about the dancing. I really can't write hip hop [cringe] now PLEASE be honest what you think! Love you guys xxxx