A/N I was trying to write the last chapter of Dalton Boys, and the next to last chapter of The Final Bite, but this story just kind of popped into my head during a bout of insomnia (which often happens.) The title comes from the song Marry the Night, which should be a clue about where the story is going to go. Hope you all enjoy this!

Reviews are always appreciated!

…

He was bored. He needed something new to distract him, though he wasn't sure he would find anything here in this club. Most of the patrons were college students hanging out on a Saturday night. He suspected more than a few of them had used a fake ID to get in.

He settled into a booth near the back and ordered a bloody Mary, grinning to himself at the joke. He scanned the crowd again. He wasn't too particular when it came to gender, both men and women appealed to him, but he wanted something different tonight. Something unique. He was getting tired of the same old thing night after night; the same people with the same boring lives and the same lack of passion.

His eyes passed over the people on the dance floor. They seemed more lively than his usual companions, but still something was missing. That spark of vitality, of passion. His gaze moved on to the bar. Same thing there. It was as if these young people had already given up on life, already knew they were headed for a dead end life with a dead end job and a dead end marriage.

Wait, there! Seated near the end of the bar, auburn hair perfectly coiffed, impeccably dressed. Yeah, he seemed to be intoxicated, and he seemed a little upset, but still he seemed so...vibrant, alive, as if he refused to let life get in his way. He was perfect.

…

"Another rum and coke!" Kurt said as the bartender walked past. Sure, he probably shouldn't drink any more alcohol, but he was pissed off, and wanted to drown his sorrows, so to speak, but could you really blame him? It was his twenty first birthday, and he was all alone.

Okay, it's not like EVERYONE forgot. Rachel had remembered, and had given him his gift Thursday morning as she was heading out the door with her suitcase, with strict orders not to open it until Saturday. She was flying back to Lima to visit her dads. Hiram Berry was going to have gallbladder surgery on Friday morning, and she wanted to be there to help out during his recovery.

Santana had wished him a Happy Birthday on Friday night, singing to him at the diner, before heading off for the weekend with her girlfriend de jour.

He had gotten a call from his dad and Carole earlier, wishing him a happy birthday as well. And Mercedes, Tina, Artie, Mike, and Sam had all texted him birthday greetings. Puck had sent him a lewd eCard in an email attachment. Quinn had opted for a more traditional paper card, while Brittany had sent him a rambling Facebook greeting that made little sense, but it was the thought that counts. Even some of his friends from Dalton had tweeted him a Happy Birthday.

So yeah, not everyone forgot. Just his fiance.

When Blaine had told him on Tuesday afternoon that June Dolloway had arranged for him to sing at a charity dinner, Kurt hadn't said anything. He understood that this could launch Blaine's career, and in turn Blaine would help him with his own career. And besides, the dinner was later in the evening. They would have all day Saturday to spend together, right?

The next three days had been hectic for both of them, with Blaine rehearsing for the charity dinner, and Kurt's school and work schedules. On Wednesday he had worked the morning shift at the diner, then had a dance class and his required English elective, Writing for the Stage, followed by Weapons class, and then a work out at the gym before going home for dinner and to work on his homework.

Thursday he had morning classes, followed by a double shift at the diner. Friday he had the morning shift again, and two dance classes, as well as Math and Drama, and then he had covered Rachel's shift at the diner. Blaine had met him afterwards and gone back with him to the loft, despite the fact that Blaine no longer lived there. They were both so tired, they had just gone straight to bed, falling asleep almost immediately. Thank Gaga he had Saturday off and could sleep in. He had requested the day off a month ago, believing that his Twenty First Birthday would be a big deal.

Kurt had thoroughly expected to be woken up with breakfast in bed and birthday sex, but when he rolled over that morning and reached for his curly haired fiance, he found the other side of the bed empty. Figuring Blaine was in the kitchen, he got up and went searching for the other man, but found the apartment empty. There was a note on the table, one that looked hastily scrawled.

Kurt,

June wants me to do one more rehearsal before tonight. I'll see you at lunch time. Love you!

Blaine

No Happy Birthday. Oh well. At least they'd spend lunch together, right? Blaine would probably bring him his favorite Thai food and one of those mini cakes Kurt loved, and they'd celebrate his birthday then.

But lunch time came and went, and there was no sign of his hazel eyed boyfriend. Finally, around three o'clock, he got a text from the darker man, saying that June had taken him shopping and to a salon to work on his image for the night, and that he was sorry he'd missed lunch. He didn't even add on an I love you or sign his name. Nor did he say when he would return. The dinner was at six. Would he stop by before the event? Surely his fiance hadn't actually forgotten his birthday?

He sat on the couch and watched Project Runway reruns, forcing himself not to glance at the clock every five minutes. Six o'clock came and went, and Kurt was getting angrier and angrier. By seven o'clock he was pacing the living room. Surely Blaine would have at least sent him a happy birthday text if he remembered. It was becoming more and more obvious that his fiance had forgotten.

Eight o'clock arrived. "Screw this! It's my birthday, and I am going to go out and celebrate! Maybe I'll even have a drink or two! And screw you Blaine Anderson! I'm going to put on my hottest outfit and dance and let other men drool over me! Serves you right for forgetting what day it is!"

He had put on his tightest pair of black skinny jeans and the new red v neck light weight sweater that showed off his abs and arms perfectly that Isabelle had sent him (even his former boss remembered his damn birthday!) and finished the ensemble with a silver chain belt with charms hanging off of it every few inches, and black ankle boots that also sported silver chain adornments.

He had flashed his brand new legal ID to the bouncer at the door and headed straight for the bar. He was twenty one, damn it, he was going to have a drink. When the bartender had set the first drink down in front of him, he had saluted her with it, and drank half of it in one go. Probably not the smartest move, considering the burn down his throat, but he managed not to choke.

"Happy fucking birthday, Kurt!" He muttered to himself. He finished the first drink a little more slowly, and had ordered a second. And a third. By the fourth one he had a pleasant buzz going on, and was shimmying to the music. As the fifth (or was this the sixth? He lost count) drink was set in front of him, he was feeling much better, and sipped at it as he turned to stare out at the dance floor and the gyrating bodies. Time for some fun.

He finished off the drink, dropped some money on the bar, and began to make his way to the center of the crowded dance floor, shaking his hips and rolling them in time with the beat. Several people, both men and women, turned to watch him, he could feel their eyes on him, and it felt good. He moved seductively, smiling and flirting with everyone around him. One song blended into the next, and he lost himself in the rhythm, all sensual grace.

A new song started, and he laughed as the first strains of Marry the night began to play. He ran his hands over his body, a come hither smile on his lips. He felt someone move up behind him, but didn't miss a beat, allowing the man to place his hands on his hips as they moved in sync to the music. He slowly turned to face the unknown male, feeling a little reckless. He would never cheat on Blaine, he was certain of that, but he wanted someone to notice him, to pay attention to him.

The man was taller than Kurt, his dark brown hair styled to look like he'd just had sex. His blue eyes devoured Kurt as they continued to dance. Was that eye liner he was wearing? Kurt found himself mesmerized, unable to look away from the other man. Neither of them spoke as the taller man pressed more intimately against the pale young man.

Kurt gasped and swallowed as heat surged through him. He should step back, he thought. This wasn't right. It took him a moment to realize that he had moved back, but only because the other man had maneuvered him off the dance floor, into the shadows at the back of the club.

"I-I have a fiance," He murmured, but still couldn't look away from the piercing blue eyes. The other man grinned, bringing Kurt's hand up between them, displaying the engagement ring on Kurt's left hand. The stranger leaned in and kissed the ring, never taking his eyes from Kurt's face, as he swirled his tongue around the onyx band.

Kurt couldn't suppress the moan as arousal pooled inside him. What the hell was he doing? Why wasn't he pulling away? Why wasn't he pushing the other man away? The darker male smirked at him, as if he knew his thoughts. He turned the pale man's hand over, exposing his wrist and placing kisses on the pulse beating rapidly there, licking a fiery path up the forearm. Kurt's breathing stuttered.

The man's eyes seem to glow white hot, and the taller man leaned in and whispered against his ear. "Relax, Beautiful. Forget everything else for now and just enjoy the sensations."

And suddenly Kurt couldn't remember why he shouldn't let this man worship him. He was pushed up against the wall in the darkest corner of the club as the taller man kissed him, his tongue demanding entrance, and Kurt granted it. He was dizzy and light headed, and so very hot. He writhed against the other male, who shifted his knee between Kurt's thighs, pressing into his groin and allowing the younger male to grind against it.

The auburn haired man all but whined when the kiss was broken, and whimpered in need as the stranger kissed along his jaw line, nibbling at a spot under Kurt's ear that had the young man keening in want. And then the other male's tongue traced down the column of his neck, settling over the frantic pulse. Kurt felt teeth scrape over the sensitive spot, and it drove his hips forward, causing glorious friction down below. He was desperate for release.

Twin spots of piercing pain lanced through his throat, causing him to buck forward again and stiffen, but the pain was forgotten immediately as the orgasm ripped through him.

…

Elliott moaned at the first hot rush of blood as the young man writhed against him. Oh yes! This one was different from the others, the blood rich and full and spicy. He let his thumb trace over the ring on the pale man's finger as he fed. He remembered how the man now shattering into a million pieces beneath him had seemed angry when he spotted him.

Perhaps he and the fiance had fought. Perhaps they weren't as devoted to each other as they should be. What man would leave this beautiful being all alone in a club?

Elliott finished feeding and sealed the bite wound. One thing was certain. This wouldn't be the last time he encountered the pale man. He would make certain of it. And he would win the man away from the fiance who neglected him.