A/N: One-shot I cooked up while watching TV last night. I don't know.


Kurt's cheekbones were starting to hurt from all the smiling he was doing at the cameras. Seriously, tonight really wasn't much of a big deal. Sure, a new star is going to be born and crowned (though there hasn't been a successful winner for a dozen seasons already, and Kurt doubts that this one is going to be any different, to be honest) but according to the general populace, this season's turnout wasn't that great anyways.

When Kurt finally makes it in backstage, he's seriously wondering why he agreed to do three years of judging anyways.

"Holding up there?"

"Shit, Blaine." Kurt quickly turns to the voice's amused owner. "You have got to stop doing that!"

Blaine laughs, and then eyes Kurt speculatively before reaching to fix his Armani suit's lapel. "Sorry," He grins, not looking apologetic at all. "Seriously though? Last season on the show? How does that feel?"

"I can taste freedom, and it's delicious." Kurt deadpans. "I'm ready to go back to 24/7 song recording and exhausting concerts if it means I'll never have to judge again."

The older man makes an incredulous snort (elegantly, of course, because nothing could take away the Dalton and dapper in Blaine). "It's not that bad."

"Try and say that to me again after going through a season's worth of auditions. Then we'll talk." They start walking around, mostly to kill time until the show starts. "You have it easy," Kurt points out. "You're the host. You don't have to bear crushing poor sixteen year olds' dreams just because they can't hold a note even if it kills them."

"I don't know… you seem to like crushing those dreams." Blaine hums. "You were especially brutal this year – you're being regarded as the closest one they've had to a terribly scathing, if not very blunt and truthful, judge since Simon Cowell."

"An achievement to some people, perhaps. But if I'm never nominated for a Grammy ever again, I'm blaming this show."

"I hardly think the music industry is going to let you go that easily. They're already winded up about the talk of a new album you're going to be working on once this is all over." A young lady offers them both glasses of Coke Zero which Kurt politely declines and Blaine accepts. "Other than another movie or two, I'm just going to be stuck here holding contestants' clammy hands and awkwardly nursing their crushed spirits."

Kurt fights a smile as he rolls his eyes. "Oh don't complain, Blaine, it's unbecoming of you."

"Woe is me."

From their position backstage, they could already see some celebrities and the finalists' families taking their places in the front rows. Two faces, in particular, immediately caught Kurt's eye.

"Huh, Rachel came after all. And with St. James, out of all people."

Blaine's eyes light up in recognition and scan the growing crowd quickly. Raises his eyebrows. "Aren't they doing a Broadway show together these days? Or are they actually dating this time?"

"I won't be surprised if it was both actually. But this time I have a feeling it's endgame for them."

"Funny, how love works." Kurt catches Blaine staring at him with a thoughtful look on his face, and he turns away hastily to avoid eye contact.

"Thirty minutes, everyone!" One of the directors calls out, and the two Ohio natives share a look.

"Well, this is it." Kurt doesn't know why, but he feels kind of… sad. He looks at Blaine. "The final finale. I think I might end up missing this."

More specifically, he might end up missing Blaine. Sometime all those years ago, he and Blaine had sort of, fell out. Kurt supposed that was what fame did to people – he became something like a Broadway-recording artist and Blaine got himself discovered and charmed his way into Hollywood. Kurt would hear about his friend through television and tabloids (and vice versa, Kurt likes to think), and that was it.

Until an offer came up three years ago, asking Kurt to be a judge for three seasons. He had wanted something new, so he accepted, not knowing that Blaine Anderson got himself a part in the show as well (though his contract was at least five seasons long). So it was to their pleasant shock to see each other for the first time in years, that one summer afternoon prior to the start of the nationwide auditions.

Needless to say, the next years leading to the present were one of the best in Kurt's life, if only because of him.

"Hey, Kurt."

The singer turns his head to see Blaine fixing the microphone clipped to his collar. "Yeah?"

Blaine runs a hand through his trim curly hair (he hasn't used hair gel since graduating Dalton, to Kurt's absolute relief) and almost looks… nervous. "I was wondering. Tomorrow's Friday. Even though we're not going to be working together anymore, well, I'd like to… rekindle our old relationship."

A breath catches itself on Kurt's throat, and all he could say was another, "Yeah?"

The older man laughs breathily. "Yeah. Like, dinner at eight tomorrow. If you want, that is."

Kurt means to say yes, but instead he says "I missed you." And he flushes in embarrassment. (Blaine manages to make him feel young and sixteen with a schoolboy crush again sometimes, gosh.)

Blaine just reaches his hand to lightly hold Kurt's and smiles. "I missed you, too." And then there's a light feathery touch ghosting over Kurt's lips and only after he realizes he's staring at Blaine's perfectly hazel eyes does he realize, oh.

Music starts, and that's Blaine's cue to go greet everyone with the line Ryan Seacrest made famous,

"Welcome, and this is American Idol!"