A/N: This one-shot is based on the holiday, not the movie (with Lea Michele and Bon Jovi), and will very firmly remain a one-shot. I do not own Glee, but if anyone would like to gift it to me, I would appreciate it. I hope you enjoy.
(FF refuses to place a line here, so you'll have to believe me when I say I've tried about fifteen times to add one)
Kurt Hummel mumbled to himself as he typed up the report. All people wanted to talk about nowadays was the fiscal cliff, every newspaper in town had a section devoted purely to every bit of news they could strangle from the stilted talks of Congress. Kurt was sick of hearing about it, sick of writing about it, and sick of reporting on it, but if the fiscal cliff was his way (as a political reporter) to get on-screen, he would handle the idiocy over this controversy for as long as it went on.
"Kurt, Maggie wants to talk to you," Devon said, poking his head into Kurt's office, "and she said she was in a hurry, so get there quick. Besides, I'm sure your fingers could use a break from typing another useless article that says the exact same thing the article yesterday did: Congress knows nothing."
"Very funny," Kurt said, standing up. Devon liked to be superior because he reported on celebrities, which meant his news was fast-moving and got a ridiculous amount of airtime. "Is she in her office?"
"Yep, and she looks over-stressed to begin with, so she said she doesn't need any of your sass. I told her good luck." Kurt ignored Devon (who was almost as sassy as he was) and headed down the hall to Margaret Snow's office. Technically, Margaret was all of their bosses, but she insisted that they called her 'Maggie' and she treated them more like her children, which wasn't a bad thing.
"Maggie, the Demon said you need me," Kurt joked as he usually did, sitting down in the hot seat across from Maggie's desk.
"You have no idea how operative the word 'need' is right now," Maggie said, sighing. She looked tired, bags under her green eyes. "I have a job for you that has absolutely nothing to do with politics, but you're the only person on this force young and attractive enough to do this."
"What about Amanda?" Kurt asked, feeling distinctly uncomfortable despite the opportunity for a new assignment.
"She's out sick, she has been all week, and her understudy is a homely page who won't do for this job. As you may or may not now, being in a rather lowly position but having an uncanny ear for hearing the right people talking about the right things, we're supposed to loan someone to New Year's Rockin' Eve, as the people person."
"The 'people person'?" Kurt asked, still wary of where she was going with this.
"You know how New Year's Eve works in Times Square. We herd people into tiny boxes with shiny blue toys that are treated like sheep by the NYPD. We've been hired to make someone the person that walks between the flocks and chats with them. This person makes jokes, gets to know people, there's a kissing contest..." Maggie was staring at him pointedly. "I know you want airtime, and I know you deserve it. This is your shot."
"I'll do it," Kurt said before he could think about it anymore.
"All right. You'll meet with wardrobe and make-up at about four that afternoon, and the special runs from 10 to 11 and then 11:30 to 2:15. Obviously you're not leaving." Maggie was writing as she was talking, her words rehearsed and distracted. "You banter with Seacrest, you get to know the people, pay special attention to Armed Forces, everyone's watched New Year's Rockin' Eve. You know how this works."
"Just one question, and then I'll be out of your very busy, but fabulous-looking hair," Kurt said, making Maggie smile. "This kissing contest?"
"Charity thing," Maggie said absentmindedly. "A few contestants are picked online by watchers during Primetime, from the pool of the people you're talking to, and then in the half an hour before the ball drops, people text in their votes for a dollar towards the charity of the event. It's all very philanthropic, and it's just one kiss. You don't have to marry her!"
"Her?" Kurt asked, the idea not even having occurred to him.
"One kiss," Maggie promised. "Certainly you've kissed a girl before." Kurt thought back to his misbegotten adventure with Brittany.
"One kiss. I can do that," Kurt said, the song from A Chorus Line playing in his head as usual.
"Excellent. Get back to work, I'm sure so much has changed in Washington in the last five minutes." Kurt rolled his eyes (everyone liked picking on him for the monotony that was his job lately), and h3eaded to leave. "Oh, one more thing?"
"Yes?"
"Rachel Berry's big this year, see if you can convince her to perform. She can sing anything she wants, but obviously a song from the musical she's in right now would be preferred. And Ellie Goulding's singing Auld Lang Syne."
"I needed to know that last one because?"
"Just in case Rachel wanted to. Rachel's your assignment. Get lost."
"Please," Kurt begged his roommate, who had been stubbornly refusing his pleas for the last half an hour. One would think Rachel Berry would want to publicity from being on New Year's Rockin' Eve, but she anted to fly back to Lima to see Finn, and if she performed she couldn't. "I need you."
"I doubt that if I don't sing it will adversely effect your career. Why are you so uptight about this?" Somewhere along the line, Rachel had gotten human empathy, and Kurt sighed and admitted that he was the people person. "You have to kiss someone?"
"Yes."
"You?"
"Yes."
"You, the only virgin in New York, the only person in the world who could have gone this long without a proper kiss?" Rachel asked again, and Kurt resisted the urge to slap her.
"Yes, I have to be the prize of the kissing contest. It's not a big deal." Rachel squealed.
"This is so exciting. I have to see this. Maybe I can convince Finn to fly out here!" At least that had convinced her, Kurt thought ruefully as Rachel continued to hum and cook, now all aflutter.
"And spend New Year's in Times Square?" Kurt asked. "Not a chance. He thought the city was claustrophobic enough on a regular day. New Year's in Time Square would qualify as the worst night of his life."
"Well, couldn't I come home for midnight?" Rachel asked, and Kurt shook his head even though his roommate couldn't see him.
"No. You'll be hanging out on the balcony with Ryan Seacrest whilst I'm locking lips with a hopefully-attractive mysterious stranger," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. Rachel giggled.
"Maybe he'll be cute."
"Maybe she'll be cute," Kurt corrected, and Rachel gaped. "What are the odds of the majority of America voting to see a gay kiss at New Year's Rockin' Eve?"
"I never even thought of that."
"Me neither." Rachel shrugged.
"it's not like you've never kissed a girl before. And even if the winner is female, there's still a possibility you'll meet someone."
"Someone who sees me as a celebrity even though no one's ever heard of me and I shouldn't have this position in the first place?" Rachel sighed as she straightened from putting their dinner in the oven, rolling her eyes.
"Kurt, it's New Year's Rockin' Eve. This is a big opportunity for you! And enough clever banter with Ryan Seacrest and people will begin thinking you've been in the business for years. And you're definitely good at banter. So, just relax, and try not to think too much about the kiss."
Kurt sighed, slumping back on the couch. "When did you become so logical?"
"When I found out I was singing at New Year's Rockin' Eve!" Rachel was one of those special people that could put punctuation in her voice. Kurt could literally hear the italics and the exclamation point. "What do you think I should sing?"
"Maggie said Dick Clark Productions would prefer it if you sang something from your most recent musical."
"Footloose?" Rachel asked. "What's appropriate from Footloose for New Year's Rockin' Eve?"
"Rachel, I think you're overusing your italics," Kurt commented, and Rachel very maturely stuck her tongue out at him. "Holding Out for a Hero?"
"All by myself?"
"Rachel, that's Celine," Kurt dismissed, then thought it over. "Oh. Right. No."
"Can You Find It In Your Heart?" Rachel asked, but Kurt shook his head.
"Too musical specific." Kurt thought about it for a minute. "Almost Paradise?"
"With whom?" Rachel asked, annoyed. "I suppose it could work as a solo, but it wouldn't sound as good without the harmonies. Let's Hear It for the Boy?"
"No, that's too pop music for a Broadway artist." Kurt frowned. "You could always ask Hunter Hayes to do Almost Paradise with you, as homage to the movie?"
"I will never pay homage to that movie," Rachel vowed, and Kurt almost gave up on his roommate (and her musical) until a light bulb went off in his head.
"Let's Make Believe We're in Love," he said as it occurred to him.
"Kurt, I am not duetting with someone who can hit notes as high as I can," Rachel said immediately, making Kurt laugh.
"I can sing in a lower register, Rach, but I'm talking about the song." Kurt wasn't entirely sure what Rachel dropped in her fit of dramatics, but it made a loud clang, so it was probably a pot.
"Genius," Rachel said, running over and kissing Kurt on the cheek. "Genius, genius, genius!" Rachel was already humming it by the time she was picking up the pot she had dropped.
"Hey, I'm Ryan." Ryan Seacrest was known for being a pretty friendly co-host, but Kurt was surprised by the enthusiasm with which the famous figure greeted him. "It's Kurt Hummel, right? I'm not sure how someone could pronounce it wrong, but it someone could it would be me."
"Yes, Kurt Hummel. Nice to meet you," Kurt said, shaking the hand Ryan offered.
"Big opportunity for you, huh?" Ryan said. "It's a shame you haven't been here for a few years, co-hosting with Dick Clark was the most memorable experience of my life. How old are you again?"
"Twenty-one," Kurt replied, and Ryan laughed.
"Never mind, you were just a baby back when I was hosting this with Dick. Ready to go?"
"Ready as I'll ever be, Ryan," Kurt said automatically, and the famous figure grinned.
"Say things just like that, and you'll be fine." Ryan headed off to the balcony to get a microphone, and Kurt took in the crowds of people, wearing diapers and freezing their butts off, some of whom had been there for over twelve hours already, and the show hadn't even started.
"So," said the lovely project manager, who looked as harried as Maggie had when she had asked him to do this. "Florence + the Machine will be opening up the concert, followed by Ryan's little introduction to the program, then you and he will banter briefly before you meet your first crowd of people. Here's your map of the sections, and your first is 1D. Find people with interesting signs, or wearing uniforms, or simply yelling the loudest, and get to know them. Sound easy enough?"
"Yes," Kurt replied, keeping in mind the warning he had gotten from Finn (who had, surprisingly, agreed to come to New York for New Year's Eve, but was sitting on their couch and had no plans of journeying into Times Square) about not talking to anyone he wouldn't want to kiss.
"And don't look so nervous," she said, then she rushed off to make sure Florence's sound check had been done properly and they were all set up. Kurt absolutely pitied her.
By the time they were counting Kurt and Ryan down, Kurt felt like he was sweating off the make-up one of the girls had spent so much time putting on him. This was his big break, and for some ridiculous reason, everyone made it sound like his career hung on that damn kiss.
Florence + the Machine broke out into Lights, Lights, and Ryan waved to Kurt from the balcony. He was barely a speck, but Kurt could tell Seacrest was giving him a thumbs up. Either that or he was flipping Kurt off.
"Welcome to New Year's Rockin' Eve," Ryan said as soon as the crowd had stopped cheering long enough for him to be heard. "We're live from Times Square, and as usual it's absolute madness around here. I'm your host, Ryan Seacrest, and this," Kurt smiled as the camera shot to him, "is my lovely co-host, Kurt Hummel, political reporter for the New York Times. How's it looking down there, Kurt?"
"Ryan, I can barely hear you everyone is so excited," Kurt said, and it was true. People were absolutely screaming in his ears. "Despite the fact most of them have been standing in the freezing cold for at least ten hours," Kurt knew the cameras could see his breath as he talked, "they're still energetic and ready for a great New Year's Eve here in the greatest city in the world."
"You would know, Ohio," Ryan said cheekily, and Kurt wasn't sure who the camera was looking at anymore. The feeling was extremely unnerving. "Tell our viewers who we're looking at for performers tonight."
"We're going to have a great concert," Kurt said honestly. "Florence + the Machine, who you guys all just saw, won three Grammy's this year, and they're not even our most celebrated guest. We have The Band Perry, Sara Bareilles, Colbie Caillat, Nellie Veitenhemier, fun, the Scissor Sisters, and so many more great artists." Kurt had always thought announcers were pretty cliche, but now he was realizing thee wasn't much an announcer could say comfortably that didn't sound cliche.
"And your favorite, of course," Ryan replied, his voice weak and tinny in Kurt's earphone.
"Oh, yes, and my lovely roommate, one of the best in the business, Rachel Berry, who recently stared in Footloose and will be singing a song from her show tonight."
"You sound so enthused," Ryan said sarcastically.
"Believe me, I am." Judging by the chuckles he could hear behind him, his dry sense of humor was working better than he had expected. "But enough about me, let's meet some of the people here tonight. What's your name?"
The girl he asked was the cutest thing he had ever seen, probably around a year old, and she was being held by two beaming mothers, who looked completely enamored with her. Kurt's heart clenched momentarily. Why couldn't he have that? "Amamda," the little girl replied, and one of her mothers mouthed 'Amanda' to Kurt.
"Amanda, is this your first New Year's Eve?" Kurt asked the little girl, and he could see the producer grinning. Babies made excellent TV.
"Yeth," she replied, and the mother raised an eyebrow at Kurt, like 'did you get that one?'
"Well, I'm glad your mothers have decided to bring you to Time's Square, it'll make it memorable." The little girl beamed at Kurt, who couldn't help smiling in return. "How about you guys? What are you here for?" he asked three young guys holding a sign proclaiming 'everyone's your friend in New York City'. Kurt had to know. "And what does the sign mean? I've been around here for a while, and I have to tell you, that's not the case." The guys laughed.
"It's They Might Be Giants," one guy explained, and the others nodded.
"Where are you from?" Kurt asked, having hoped their explanation would be more interested.
"Canada. I'm Jack, and this is Louis and Steve." Jack had no trace of the accent. The other guys just nodded again.
"What are you two, the bobble head twins?" Kurt asked, which made Jack laugh. "Why are you guys here, Steve?" Kurt asked pointedly.
"Nothing like this up in Canada," Steve replied, and his Canadian accent was thick.
"Ah. Now I get why you don't talk," Kurt said, nodding sagely. "Get oot of my shot." The guys laughed at that, and Kurt turned to a man holding up a sign that said 'PICK ME!' "I have to pick you now. Your sign is just too pretty." The sign was black, with pink sparkly letters on it.
"Come here," the guy said, beckoning Kurt forward, and Kurt glanced to the security guard, who came a little closer but nodded at Kurt. Kurt leaned forward and the guy grabbed him by his collar (which panicked him momentarily and made the security guard come much closer), but he just whispered in his ear.
"Can I take advantage of this opportunity to ask my girlfriend to marry me?" the guy asked. "We got separated, and I'm not sure where she is, but I thought you could help me out."
Kurt pulled away before he replied. "I think I can manage that. What's your name and where are you from?"
"I'm Tristan Cornelius, I'm from LA, I attend the University of California Los Angeles, and I swear to you that my girlfriend made this sign. And that she does exist." Kurt laughed at that.
"I believe you." A rush of feedback came through his earphone, and only years of acting training prevented him from flinching. It meant they were giving Ryan back his mic. "All right, Ryan, are we ready up there?"
"Thanks, Kurt. I can't believe you knew the moment I was ready without prompting. I kind of hate you right now," Ryan joked, and Kurt laughed exaggeratedly. "All right, without further ado, Sara Bareilles."
Following a few more acts, Ryan chatting with the lead singer from the opening act, and the annual memorial to Dick Clark, Kurt got another chance to talk to the audience at about 10:25, and he had been hurried over to a new section by the project manager.
"Thanks, Ryan, and I'll keep that in mind," he said in reply to Ryan's joke. "I see we have here some esteemed members of our military, marines would be my best guess from long marathons of NCIS as a teenager. Care to introduce yourselves?"
"Sergeant Major Zachary Elmore, sir." The sergeant major saluted.
"Private Eric Hamel, sir." The private saluted as well.
"Captain George Hendrix, sir." The captain saluted as the other two had.
Before Kurt could get another word in, all three said simultaneously, "At attention, sir," went stiff as boards, and saluted him in perfect synchronization. The people in their section (and the sections that could see them) clapped.
"Excellent," Kurt said, clapping as much as he could with a microphone in his hand. "Did you guys practice that?"
"Absolutely," the sergeant major replied. "We're good, but we're not that good."
"So, where are you guys from?" Kurt asked, because while they were different in age (the private probably being around Kurt's age, the sergeant major late twenties, and the captain possibly late thirties), they seemed perfectly comfortable with each other, and they obviously knew each other well to be coming to New Year's Rockin' Eve together.
"We all live in the same small town," the private answered, "which is nowhere you've ever heard of, so I'm not going to bore you with the name of it, and we all serve in the same company, sir."
"Stop calling me, sir," Kurt commanded. "You're making me feel old. So, what's it take to be a captain in the marines? I'm rather impressed."
"A lot of determination, a lot of hard work, and a lot of knowing the right people, if you understand what I mean, sir." The captain looked nervous as he said it.
"What did I say about calling me 'sir'?" Kurt said mock-sternly. "And if I didn't know about knowing the right people, I wouldn't be standing here right now." The captain relaxed at that. "How about you ladies?" he asked the girls who were waving a 'happy 21' sign. "Celebrating a major birthday?"
"You bet!" a pretty brunette said, wearing a sorority sweatshirt with a pageant-type ribbon over it and a tiara. "I'm turning twenty-one."
"Well, congratulations," Kurt said as her friends squealed. "I turned twenty-one in May, so I would offer you a drink, but sadly they won't let me have any either." The girls laughed at that. "What sorority is that on your sweatshirt?"
"Delta Phi Epsilon," the blonde to her right answered. "We go to New York University!" The girls cheered again. Kurt resisted the urge to call them 'woo girls'. The reference was too old. "Esse quam videri!"
"I'm sorry?" Kurt asked.
"To be rather than to seem to be," the third sorority girl replied. "That's our motto."
"Sorry, all the Latin I know is from Supernatural." The girls laughed at that. Apparently that one wasn't too old. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio..." Kurt began reciting, making the girls giggle some more.
"Thanks for coming over to talk to us!" the birthday girl said cheerily.
"No problem. Happy birthday!" The girls thanked him as he moved on.
"La vida loca?" Kurt asked a man who was standing in front of a sign taped to the fence (which they weren't allowed to do). To be honest, there was nothing particularly interesting about him (or his sign), but he was gorgeous, and the kissing contest was suddenly on the forefront of Kurt's mind. He would not kiss that sorority girl. Not even if one kiss was her only birthday wish. "Tell me about it."
"Not my sign," the man said with an easy smile.
"Well, since you have my attention, where are you from?"
"Sadly, here," the man replied, "but I've never gotten out to Times Squared on New Year's Eve before, and it's something everyone has to do once."
"I agree. What's your name?"
"Blaine Anderson," the man introduced himself. "NYADA student and Off-Broadway performer."
"Oh, so do you know Rachel Berry? She attends NYADA." It was a stretch, but it was justification for talking to him.
"Unfortunately," Blaine said rather dryly, and Kurt busted out laughing.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh, but I definitely know what you mean." A rush of static went through his earphone again. "And back to you, Ryan."
"Not again," Seacrest practically groaned.
"In case you're wondering, it's the rush of static your mic makes in my earphone," Kurt said, and Ryan laughed.
"I knew it had to be something. All right, our next performer..."
"I really qualify as interesting enough to talk to?" Blaine asked next to him, and it was the first time someone in the stands had tried to talk to him while he wasn't on air. Kurt eagerly went with it.
"Well, you would have been if it had been your sign, but you did all right. First time on camera?" Kurt asked, and Blaine nodded. "Stage acting is a lot different, isn't it?"
"How would you know that?" Blaine asked, obviously curious.
"I applied for NYADA, with Rachel, but I didn't get in. Apparently, my song was all surface and no depth. I guess I was going for flare." Blaine chuckled.
"Not the greatest thing with Carmen, but you would think she would have asked you to sing another song or something." Kurt shrugged.
"I'm over that. It's been a long time, and I love what I do."
"Oh, yes, the New York Times. How does someone without a degree get a job like that?" Blaine asked, not judging (at lets, Kurt didn't think he was).
"I'm actually just moonlighting, trying out new areas of the field. I usually work at Vogue's web site. And I do have a degree. Well, I'm working on one. I'm a part-time student at Columbia."
"Impressive in it's own right, Mr. Hummel."
"It's just Kurt," he said, trying to ignore the fact that his face had heated up. He could blame it on the freezing cold.
"Kurt," Blaine repeated, and it sounded so much better when he said it. "Why only part-time?"
"I have to be pretty self sufficient," Kurt answered. "So I work full-time, and do a lot of online classes and night classes, which isn't terribly difficult with a writing major. The only class that has at all interfered with my work was public speaking."
"And you obviously don't have any difficulty with that," Blaine said, gesturing to the cameras and making Kurt laugh.
"No. I've never had stage fright and I've never been camera shy."
"Lucky you."
"Kurt," came a whisper across his earphone, "you're supposed to look involved with the concert, not with that guy!"
"Sorry, I guess I'm supposed to be paying attention," Kurt said, gesturing to the concert, and Blaine nodded.
"I suppose watching Adele wouldn't be too horrible."
"I actually need to go see the project manager for a moment, and find Tristan. I'll get back to you." Blaine didn't get that chance to say anything before Kurt hurried away to his old section.
"What's your girlfriends name and do you know where she went?" he asked Tristan.
"Her name is McKayla Powers, and she's two sections over, I just saw her." Kurt ran over and collected the girl before talking in low tones to the project manager, who was more than happy to agree to the proposal, and alerted Ryan.
"What's going on?" McKayla asked, but Kurt ignored her and approached the NYPD officer standing by Tristan's section.
"Let him out," he said, and the man swung the gate open, glaring at everyone but Tristan with his hand on his gun.
When Adele was finished, the cameras swung immediately to Kurt. "Sorry to steal your spotlight, Ryan," Kurt said, purposefully not sounding very sorry, "but Tristan has something to say to his lovely girlfriend, Miss McKayla Powers."
Tristan dropped to one knee, pulling out a box. "McKayla, you are the most amazing woman I have ever met." McKayla was tearing up already. "You make me laugh like no one else ever could, and you're the best person to have around on a crappy day. You can be a little shy sometimes, but you shouldn't be, because everyone would be a better person for knowing you. I love you with all of my heart, and I decided to ask you the most important question of both our lives here today, in front of everyone, because when I say I want to scream it from the rooftops, I mean it, and that's a plan." McKayla giggled at that, tears starting to fall, so it was obviously some sort of inside joke. "McKayla Annabelle Powers, will you marry me?" McKayla nodded frantically, clearly too chocked up for words, and Tristan smiled, placing the ring on her finger. Kurt lead the crowd in clapping as they kissed, and then he grabbed McKayla's hand to check out the ring.
"It's beautiful." Kurt hoped the cameras were zooming in on it. "Congratulations, Tristan and McKayla. May you live happily ever after in section 1D." The crowd laughed at that as the police ushered them into the same section. "Back to you, Ryan."
"You totally stole my spotlight," Ryan grumbled. "Congratulations to the future Mr. and Mrs. Tristan and McKayla Cornelius, I assume."
Kurt got one more chance to talk to the people before Primetime ended, but his attention was entirely focused on Blaine, who was far enough to the side in the section next to the one he had moved to that Kurt could see him, and this was proving very detrimental to his ability to speak English. He talked to an old couple celebrating their sixty-fifth anniversary, two teenagers from the Bronx who opened their Ivy League college letters in front of the camera and both got accepted, and an amazing kid from the slums of Philadelphia who could beat box, rap, and break dance, and was suitably nicknamed 'The Fresh Prince of PA.'
"Great job," Ryan said as Kurt headed for the balcony during the break. Several comedians, including Jeff Dunham, and a collection of street performers who Ryan had pulled during the day were in charge of entertaining the crowd during the half an hour break before New Year's Rockin' Eve returned, and Kurt was taking advantage of that fact and taking the opportunity to get warm. "You're a real people person."
"No one who actually knew me would describe me as such. Rachel's part of the next segment, right?" Kurt asked, and Ryan nodded. The schedule was up there, Kurt didn't have a copy amongst the sea of people. There were too many pick-pockets in New York City, and half the fun of the show was never knowing what was coming next.
"Yep. And to start off the segment, you get to announce the winner of the kissing competition." Kurt's surprise must have shown on his face, because Ryan laughed. "Yeah. They shortened the process this year, so it has been purely by text votes throughout the hour and right up until we go on air. Right now..." Ryan pulled out his iPhone to check, "the twenty-one year old birthday sorority girl is tied with one of the Ivy League Bronx girls, but the guy you talked to about not-his la vida loca sign is high up there, and so is Private Eric Hamel. Tristan had a lot of votes until the proposal thing happened." Kurt laughed at that.
"I'm just glad they don't want me to kiss an engaged man," Kurt said, and Ryan laughed.
"You should be, because someone who was not single has won in the past. He was married, but the wife just thought it was funny. She flipped off the camera jokingly though, and got us in a lot of trouble." Ryan rolled his eyes. "So, a tradition we try to do is have the winner dance with you at least once before the kiss. It's an anticipatory thing, makes the crowd excited. We were thinking to your friend Rachel's song."
"That could work," Kurt said, thinking of the extremely appropriate song. "That will definitely work."
"Excellent," Ryan said happily. "Drink some hot chocolate, get warm, we're on in twenty minutes." Ryan left to socialize with the famous singers, but Kurt was more than happy to get his hot chocolate and return to the balcony. Rachel came up to join him.
"Ready?" was all she needed to ask.
"As I'll ever be."
"Welcome back to New Year's Rockin' Eve," Kurt said, greeting the at-home audience with the fans behind him screaming. "Sorry about that break there, but we had to build the tension. Before we skip along to Hollywood, I have to announce the winner of the charity competition to see who I will kiss at midnight. Trust me, I want to hear the results just as much as you guys do. Ryan will let me know the final tally in a moment." Kurt caught Blaine's eye out of the side of his, and the NYADA student smiled softly at him.
"That NYADA guy who knows your roommate, that's what he's officially listed as," Ryan said into his earpiece.
"Blaine Anderson!" Kurt announced, thrilled beyond belief. "Alias: that NYADA guy who knows my roommate. Who made this?" Kurt asked rhetorically. "And am I that obvious?"
"Yes!" half the crowd shouted behind him, and Kurt died laughing.
"Fair enough." Kurt smiled at the cameras. "So, now over to Fergie in Hollywood, and I'll have my midnight kiss out here when we return." Kurt waited until the cameraman signaled him and then walked over to Blaine.
"You okay with this?" he asked, which was kind of stupid. Technically, the winner could object, and it would go to the second place, but he had already announced it.
"Of course. I probably sent in about twenty dollars of votes myself," Blaine said with an easy smile.
"You were hoping to kiss me?" Kurt asked, not quite believing him, and Blaine laughed and nodded.
"Absolutely. You're kind of gorgeous, in case you haven't noticed." Kurt blushed, but avoided answering by gesturing to the police to let Blaine out from behind the restraints.
"Is there a reason I'm being let out of the cage?" Blaine asked as he came to stand beside Kurt.
"Ryan... Seacrest, that is, wanted us to have at least one dance before midnight, and it's next," Kurt explained, half-hoping Blaine would say 'no'. The half that wanted him to say 'let's make out right now' was much louder.
"Sounds great," Blaine said as someone outfitted him with an earpiece, just so he could know if Ryan was addressing him. He didn't get a microphone. "It's much nicer out here. Less sweatiness." Kurt chuckled at that.
"I have to admit, I've never been behind the bars," Blaine gaped, "this is my first time at New Year's Rockin' Eve."
"Well, at least you experienced it once," Blaine said, shrugging.
"If you two are done flirting," Ryan's voice said, "the lovely and talented Miss Rachel Berry is ready to perform."
"Shoot," Kurt muttered. He had gotten so distracted by Blaine that he hadn't noticed the cameras return to him. "Ready, Ryan."
"How about you, Blaine?" Ryan asked.
"Definitely ready."
I don't know your name
And you don't know mine
That sounds like a fine place to start
Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist as Kurt wrapped his around Blaine's neck, and considering they had only met about an hour ago, the position felt completely natural, and Kurt let his head lull and rest on Blaine's shoulder, relaxing into the embrace.
We are strangers, it seems
With our own sep'rate dreams
But I feel like I know you by heart
"You smell fantastic," Kurt muttered, and it was a fair statement considering his nose was pressed right up against where Blaine had sprayed his cologne. Blaine just smiled, spinning Kurt in a slow circle
Look at the moon slowly risin'
Look at those stars up above
Darlin', just for tonight
Until we get it right
Let's make believe we're in love
"I love Footloose," Blaine said, and Kurt was the one who simply smiled. He had heard the songs too many times lately to have enjoyed Rachel's performance under any other circumstances, but wrapped in the arms of someone who he inherently trusted (he wasn't sure why, but he felt a deep connection with Blaine), he was enjoying hearing the song for the billionth time.
Imagine the bliss
That comes with one kiss
Imagine that feeling won't end
Kurt was definitely listening to the lyrics closer than he had at Rachel's performances (though she had never actually sung this song on a Broadway stage), and he was definitely imagining their midnight kiss as Blaine spun him around and hummed along with the song. Blaine wasn't the only one, many people were humming or even singing along to a rather familiar tune (to New Yorkers), but Kurt was kind of blind to the rest of the world at the moment. And to think, he had been dreading this.
There'll be no tears at stake
And no heart's gonna break
Cuz it never hurts to pretend
Kurt couldn't remember the circumstances in which this song was actually sung in the musical (which was a thought Rachel would surely kill him for if she could read his mind), but at the moment it felt written just for them, and the fact that the voice was so familiar made it even more fairytale-like.
Look at the moon slowly risin'
Look at those stars up above
Let's begin with hello
Then we'll see where things go
Let's make believe we're in love
Blaine sang along, softly, with the last few lines, and as talented as Rachel was, Blaine sounded a hundred thousand times better to Kurt. Perhaps it was because he was more feeling the song than hearing it, pressed together as they were. "I know this sounds crazy, but I'm pretty sure I've fallen for you," Blaine admitted as Rachel continued to sing.
"Same," Kurt admitted, hiding his smile in Blaine's neck.
"How about dinner? Tomorrow night? On me?" Blaine asked, and Kurt was nodding before he even finished his question.
"And for tonight?" Kurt asked, knowing the answer he wanted to hear.
It may not yet be true
But let's see what we can do
Let's make believe we're in love
"Let's make believe we're in love," Blaine sang along with the last line of Rachel's song, and Kurt sang along for the first time.
"Aw, aren't you two cute?" Ryan said, and considering the fact they had been whispering (out of courtesy, though even if they had been screaming, Rachel wouldn't have heard them over the crowd), his voice seemed ridiculously loud and broke them apart. "Now, if I could bother my co-host to host instead of dance with cute guys, we could get this show going again."
"Oh, do shut up, Ryan," Kurt said, falling back into the teasing pattern of their conversation as Blaine was ushered back into the holdings. "How long do we have until midnight?"
"About ten minutes. The countdown clock is in the corner of TV screens all over the country, and we have a few more performances and one more trip to Hollywood to pass the time."
Blaine was back out of the gates. All the singers (Rachel included) were hanging out on the balcony with Ryan, chatting and waiting for the countdown. "Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!"
"You ready?" Kurt asked, and Blaine grinned, pulling him close. Neither of them were watching the beautiful, multi-colored-and-faceted ball drop. They were too focused on one another.
"Four! Three! Two!"
"One!" They both said, and Kurt couldn't get the usual "Happy New Year!" out, because Blaine was kissing him and fireworks were exploding behind his eyelids. New York, New York had started to play in the smooth tones of Frank Sinatra, Ryan was saying things in his ear, the crowd was going wild... but that was all background to that fact that his heart had leaped out of his chest when Blaine had pressed his lips to his. Blaine let go only when both of their oxygen was running out, and he kept pressing soft, chaste kisses to his lips as they both caught their breath.
"Wow," was the first thing out of Kurt's mouth.
"Happy New Year," was the first thing out of Blaine's. And then he kissed him again.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
And surely you will buy your cup
And surely I'll buy mine
And we'll take a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne
We too have run around the slopes
And picked the daisies fine
We've wandered many a weary foot
Since auld lang syne
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne
We too have paddled in the stream
From morning sun to night
But the seas between us broad have roared
From auld lang syne
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne
Later, Blaine and Kurt would dance as Ellie Goulding gave a memorable performance of Auld Lang Syne, pulling Rachel up to sing with her and making the Broadway performer's day. Kurt would continue hosting until 2:15 in the morning, as people began trickling in hordes out of Times Square, until only the most dedicated were left. He and Blaine would part ways, and Rachel would squeal and say 'I told you so' when she found out they have a standing date. Kurt would find out that Ryan Seacrest had kissed Rachel at midnight, and have to deal with a jealous Finn (who didn't understand the insatiable energy in Times Square at midnight on New Year's Eve).
But, at that moment, none of that mattered. Blaine was kissing him. That was enough.
A/N: I tried to capture the 'insatiable energy' (only I would quote myself) that I hear is at Times Square on New Year's Eve, but I don't think I quite managed, and that's possibly because I've never been. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed, and just to be very clear: this is a ONE-SHOT. There will be no sequels, or expansions, or anything. See where it says 'Complete', at the top? I meant it.
Songs used/mentioned:
'I Can Do That' from A Chorus Line (mentioned)
'Holding Out for a Hero' by Bonnie Tyler (from Footloose; mentioned)
'Can You Find It In Your Heart?' from Footloose (mentioned)
'Almost Paradise(Love Theme)' from Footloose (mentioned)
'Lights, Lights' by Florence + the Machine (mentioned)
'New York City' by They May Be Giants (mentioned)
'Let's Make Believe We're in Love' from Footloose
'New York, New York' by Frank Sinatra (mentioned)
'Auld Lang Syne' in the style of Lea Michele from New Year's Eve
Reviews are Love.