trufflemores told me to write Klaine dancing, so I wrote Klaine dancing.
Kurt leaned against the apartment's front door after shutting it behind himself, feeling some of the stiffness leak out of his spine. He let his eyes drift closed for a moment so he could take a minute to wallow in the funk that had been looming over him all day thanks to the spectacular combination of shitty weather, upcoming finals, and the coffee he'd spilled all over his arm on the way to work.
"I think a day like today calls for an Emergency Shame Music Dance Party," he said, peeling himself off the door. He flipped open his laptop and opened iTunes, pulling up a playlist he'd only titled "other" and hitting shuffle. A smile bloomed involuntarily onto his face as the first song started blasting.
I stay out too late
Got nothin' in my brain
At least, that's what people say
Mm-mm, that's what people say
Kurt started bopping slowly to the beat, just tapping a toe at first before moving more and more parts of his body along with the music. By the time Taylor reached the bridge, Kurt was shimmying and twirling around the apartment like a four-year-old "ballerina" on caffeine.
The next few songs passed in much the same manner, with Kurt making minor adjustments to his moves to allow for the different tempos or styles of each. Finally, a song came on that Kurt couldn't help but belt along to as he danced, swinging and popping his hips.
'Cause these are headstrong, crazy days
When your mind's made up and the music plays
(Headstrong, can you feel the beat?
Meltdown, can you feel the heat?)
Kurt gave an especially dramatic thrust at that line, whirling around in fright at the hooting laughter that followed.
"You're such a dork," Blaine said from the doorway, phone in one hand as the other wiped tears away from his eyes. "I mean, a cute dork, but still."
"Blaine Anderson, you did not just record that!" Kurt said, glaring daggers at his fiance.
"I'm not gonna post it anywhere, I just want it for me. You cheer yourself up by having dance parties, and I cheer myself up by watching you have dance parties," Blaine said, giving Kurt an admittedly very cute pleading look. "Would you like to talk about why you needed a dance party today, by the way?"
"No, it wasn't important," Kurt said, flapping a hand dismissively. "Just a bunch of little things trying to drag me down. Come dance with me!" He started shimmying his shoulders and hips in time with the new song that had come on, prompting Blaine to toss his phone onto the nearby armchair before joining in.
Kurt couldn't stop laughing as Blaine shimmied up to him and held out a hand. When Kurt took it, Blaine started leading them in a bouncy, sloppy step-together-step pattern that threatened to knock over all their furniture and wasn't even really in time with the song.
"After all this time, your go-to move is the standard Warbler two-step?" Kurt teased.
"You still resort to the shimmy, even after Mike's booty camp sessions," Blaine shot back, eyes sparkling. "You have no room to talk, babe."
"Quiet, you," Kurt said, holding up one of their entwined hands and indicating for Blaine to twirl under it. "Less joking, more dancing."
"But you started-"
"I said more dancing," Kurt interrupted, not allowing Blaine to point out the truth. While his Emergency Shame Music Dance Party had worked just fine when he was alone, it was going much better with a handsome partner to share it with, and he wanted that feeling to continue. The petty concerns of the outside world weren't going to intrude in their home, not if Kurt had anything to say about it.
(The high-intensity makeout session that ensued after Blaine knocked Kurt onto the couch after an overzealous spin also did wonders for Kurt's mood, if he was being entirely honest.)