"I don't see why I have to do this," Blaine grumbles, his hands shoved firmly into his pockets.
"Because, in case you haven't noticed, you're a terrible dancer. And I mean that in the most sincere way possible." Kurt offers him a smile – a light, innocent, care free smile, and Blaine just stares him down and grunts, his lips curling up into a snarl.
It's not Kurt's fault that Blaine's idea of dancing is sort of flailing around like a fool while proceeding to jump on various things. He's tried to teach him before, honestly he has, but Blaine is just so stubborn and Kurt is just so impatient. But he'll be damned if his best friend can't even dance normally at his own wedding. That would be blasphemous. Even if Kurt isn't the one Blaine is marrying.
Still, he sighs and approaches Blaine with a more gentle touch, his hand curling against his shoulder. "Look, I'm only being honest. Do you want to be two-stepping all over his toes while you're trying to enjoy the first few moments of the rest of your life?" His voice tries not to sound bitter, not when Kurt is thinking that those first few moments should be his, they were always his. Blaine swallows and shrugs, giving Kurt a defeated look as he places his own hand on top of Kurt's. "No, no I guess not." And with that, Kurt is quickly taking Blaine's hand in his and leading him more towards the center of the room, his boots giving a light click with every step he takes.
The hotel they managed to host the wedding at is fairly nice, and a good space away from home, so Kurt doesn't have to worry about his parents hovering around him all the time. It's more old fashioned then anything else, the dark wooded floors and the high swooping ceilings something that Kurt expected from Blaine. It kind of reminded him of Dalton, actually. The way the curtains were long and always drawn, and the way that every room is furnished with chairs and sofas and tables that look like they came out of an old Victorian house. It's probably why Blaine chose it in the first place, and Kurt can't help but admire the sentimental value in it.
But the room they're in now is a bit different. The floors are still dark, a bit scuffed and scratched from various events Kurt assumes. It's not one of the main ballrooms, but rather a smaller, more secluded room. Probably used for private parties and small social gatherings that require the proper surroundings. The tables have been pushed to the side, the middle of the room cleared out with enough space for them to dance in, and the lights are a bit bright, causing Kurt to squint a bit every time Blaine moves too far away. But the atmosphere is still lovely, and it does absolutely nothing for Kurt's nerves.
He fumbles a bit with the remote before he presses down on the play button, his fingers slipping it back into his pocket as his other hand squeezes Blaine's. "Now, I know this might seem terribly cheesy, but when I got down to it, this seemed like the only way to actually get you to learn and pay attention all at the same time. You're kind of hyper active you know." Blaine just smiles, shrugging in agreement, his eyes lighting up when he hears the first few notes of the song. "You didn't.." he trails off, his grin taking over his face.
But Kurt did. And maybe the fact that Blaine was a gigantic High School Musical nerd was something he had on his mind while trying to peruse for a reason to actually have this lesson take place, but that was a different story for a different day. Right now, Kurt just had to focus on keeping his breathing even as he spaced them apart a bit, his body turning around to face Blaine head on.
Take my hand, take a breath, pull me close, and take one step. Keep your eyes, locked on mine, and let the music be your guide.
Kurt sings along, quietly at first, but mimics the lyrics just the same, stepping out closer to Blaine and offering his hand. Blaine, with both an overly serious face and a ridiculously precious smile, quickly puts his hand in Kurt's and pulls him closer, his arm reaching around to curl against his waist. And that, that does nothing for Kurt's stomach, his insides flipping out of control the way they always do. He makes sure to keep eye contact though, the hand that was resting on Blaine's shoulder occasionally moving to hook under his chin to tilt his head up. He couldn't be staring at his feet the whole time, and that wasn't even Kurt being selfish. A perk of ballroom dancing, one Kurt silently praised as they began to move in time.
It's like catching lighting the chances of finding someone like you. It's one in a million the chances of feeling the way we do. And with every step together, we just keep on getting better. So can I have this dance, can I have this dance.
By the first chorus, Blaine's beginning to move more freely, his arms less tense and rigid then they were before, though Kurt likes to think his swats to Blaine's upper arm did the trick. Their eyes are still connected, and Kurt's trying so, so hard not to stare, because really, he's the one doing the teaching here. He can't just go and stumble and mess up willy nilly because Blaine's eyes are making him woozy, or the fact that Blaine is now avidly singing along is making his head spin. That's just not acceptable, so either Blaine has to cut it out, or Kurt needs to get a grip. Near the end, Kurt breaks off with a small bow, motioning for Blaine to take over for the rest of the song. Blaine's a fast learner anyways, he should be able to catch on pretty quickly.
Take my hand, I'll take the lead, and every turn will be safe with me. Don't be afraid, afraid to fall. You know I'll catch you through it all.
And he does. Blaine quickly extends his hand, giving Kurt a large smile as he does so. Kurt immediately steps forward and places his hand in Blaine's, Blaine giving him a small spin before pulling him completely flush against his chest. Well. That was certainly an invasion of dance space. Not that Kurt cares. But he should care. And the fact that he doesn't care is the real problem. What Kurt doesn't expect as they begin moving again is for Blaine to dip him, and then dangle him there for longer then necessary, causing Kurt to grip viciously at his arms until he brings him back to stand upright. "Don't do that again," Kurt grits quietly through a smile, and Blaine just gives him a look on innocence before he continues to dance, his movements getting bigger, but actually better.
No mountain's too high enough, ocean too wide. 'Cause together or not, our dance won't stop. Let it rain, let it pour, what we have is worth fighting for. You know I believe. That we were meant to be.
Kurt's trying to keep mostly to the center of the room in an attempt to keep the dance within close quarters. But Blaine dashes any hopes of that once he starts prancing around the room with Kurt in his arms. And prancing really was the only way to describe it, because what Blaine's doing right now? That's not dancing. It's a massacre of everything Kurt was trying to teach him. But he does his best to keep up, his legs moving in long leaps and spins as Blaine nearly tripped and fell into a table. Kurt laughs, obnoxiously so, and effectively reels Blaine in to control him, leading them slowly back towards the middle of the room where they started.
Can I have this dance, can I have this dance.
The song is coming to it's slower and quieter close, and Kurt decides to just screw the rules and leans his head down to rest on Blaine's shoulder, his arms wrapping around his neck completely. Blaine shifts quickly with him, the hand that was holding Kurt's now splayed and warm against the middle of Kurt's back, bringing him impossibly closer. They're still singing, barely at this point, and it's when Kurt half hums-half sings the last few notes that he makes the terrible mistake of pulling his head up. Blaine is there, he's right there. And it's so easy for him to just lean in and kiss him senseless until he can't breathe anymore, if not for his own sanity then just to get rid of the tension. Blaine smiles, weakly, and swallows the lump in his throat, Kurt's eyes catching how his Adam's apple bobs with the movement.
And that's it. He just can't take it anymore. Without warning, Kurt surges himself forward to crash their lips together, Blaine's eyes flying open in surprise. Kurt doesn't bother to look, doesn't bother to think, doesn't even bother to breathe, because he knows that if he allows himself to think too much and analyze everything, that it'll be over too soon, and that will just ruin him even more. So instead, he presses himself harder against Blaine, his hands moving to tangle in his curls to bring his head forward. Blaine just sort of, stands there, unsure of what to do at first. His hands are steadied against Kurt's hips, his eyes are still open because Kurt is sort of kissing him like his life depends on it, and the bad part is that Blaine isn't sure he wants to pull away.
So he doesn't. Finally, he allows himself to close his eyes, his arms curling around Kurt tighter as he responds to the kiss, his teeth catching Kurt's bottom lip just slightly before he attempts to sneak his tongue inside. Kurt sort of half whimpers against him, his brain shutting down completely at his point as he parts his lips willingly and presses up against Blaine, their hips making contact as he does so. Blaine groans instantly at the contact, his hands moving down Kurt's legs to rest just lightly on his thighs. With a firm grip, Blaine lifts Kurt completely off the ground, his hands supporting Kurt's fairly light weight as he moves. Kurt takes the hint immediately and wraps his legs around Blaine's waist, his fingers gripping more viciously against his curls. Right now, he just needs something to hold onto, something to prove to him that this is real.
The real is all but knocked into him when Blaine pushes them up against the far right wall, his hands now resting lowly on Kurt's hips as he grinds up against him to keep him supported and stabled. Kurt lets out a long groan and immediately feels his face flush from just how loud he actually was. Blaine can tell, because Blaine laughs against his mouth, his nose nuzzling against his cheek as he does so. "I told you you were loud," he quips. That earns him another smack to the arm, Kurt's lips turned up into a smirk as he does so. "Okay, do you really want to hit me right now? I could just let you fall," he pauses, letting go of some of the pressure between them. And when Kurt starts to slide down the wall, his arms basically claw at Blaine's back to bring him flush against his chest again. "Do it, and die."
Kurt immediately takes advantage of Blaine's withering look and ducks down to start kissing at his neck. They've been friends long enough for Kurt to know that Blaine's neck is his ultimate weak spot. Though why he's sort of rewarding Blaine for being a smug bastard and almost dropping him in the first place is something he doesn't quite understand. There's a lot of things he doesn't quite understand when it comes to Blaine though, like why this is happening and why this isn't the first time this has happened and why he's marrying someone else if this keeps happening. Letting himself think like this, Kurt all but attacks the spot just below Blaine's ear, his teeth nipping harshly at the skin. Blaine just groans, groans and pushes forward against him, and Kurt swears he hears Blaine mumble something along the lines of "Oh my God, don't stop," which means he must be doing something right.
But in all actuality, he's doing something wrong. Something so completely and terrible wrong. And it's when Blaine cups the back of Kurt's neck and Kurt can feel the cool metal of his engagement ring pressing into his hot skin that Kurt knows this needs to stop. Quickly, he pushes himself away from Blaine, his legs falling to the floor with a heavy thud. "We- we can't. Blaine. I- and you- you're, you're getting married Blaine. I'm so sorry." His voice is trying so, so hard to stay stable, but he can't help the crack that leaks through when he gives the lamest excuse and the worst apology ever written in history. "Kurt, Kurt just stop, okay?" But Kurt doesn't listen, he's already shoving his way past Blaine and sprinting across the room, his hands heavy and weighted against the door as he yanks it open violently.
Kurt kind of hates himself right now. Hates himself for letting this happen. Hates himself for being so easy and so emotional. Hates himself not being able to ever get over Blaine, when Blaine was never his to begin with. He doesn't know where he's going when he leaves, exactly, his vision blurred by the hot tears that have already began to prick at his eyes. He quickly moves to rub them away though, his hands curled up into balls as he swipes at his eyes and ducks into the nearest room he can find – the bathroom. For a minute, he just stand there in front of one of the mirrors, his sniffles sort of quiet and contained. But once he knows he's alone, he can't help himself. He throws himself against the wall, his chest heaving with sobs. His hands clutch desperately at his chest as he tries to stop, tries to calm down and control himself.
But he can't. And it's only when he literally doesn't have the energy to cry anymore that he finds himself slowly coming back down into a normal breathing rate. He doesn't know how long he's been in here, sobbing like some kind of idiot. He doesn't know where Blaine went, God knows Blaine doesn't want to see him right now though. He doesn't know what to do really, because he knows that come three o'clock on Sunday, Blaine won't be Blaine Anderson, his best friend. He'll be Blaine Anderson-Wright, someone's everything, someone's husband and someone's future and someone's life line.
And Kurt will still be Kurt. Same old Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, who fell in love with the wrong person no more then two and a half years ago, and never really stopped.