Kurt quickly stripped down to his underwear and slipped on the bright yellow jumpsuit. An assistant passed him some clunky platform shoes. He wanted to groan in complaint, but clamped his lips tight instead, teetering in the shoes as he waited for the signal to move.

The stage director waved to him, and Kurt drew his shoulders back, standing as straight and tall as he could, stomach sucked in tight. He got into his stride, despite the clunky shoes, working that runway perfectly.

His appearance sent a ripple of applause through the audience, and he basked in it, knowing it was mostly for the bold fashions he was wearing, but he knew he was wearing it well. Doing it justice. Selling it.

"Taxi!" a model hissed at him in passing, going down the runway in the opposite direction. The insult almost made him lose his serene model blank expression, but Kurt pulled himself together.

Backstage, he silently seethed, as he changed into his next ensemble. This time it was an unstructured suit in a shiny, dark grey fabric. To keep it edgy, he wore it without a dress shirt, his pale, bare chest showing between the lapels of the jacket.

Partial nudity was always the hardest for Kurt, and it took a second longer to gather himself before he stepped out on the runway again.

Sebastian Smythe was just exiting the stage, and Kurt couldn't resist snarking at him. "Seems like someone's been through a famine."

The taller, skinnier model simply scoffed, looking up and down Kurt's partially dressed body. "Now I know who caused it," Sebastian shot back with a sneer.

There wasn't time to retaliate, as Kurt was being signalled to start his turn. The comment rang around his head as he paced down the long runway, cameras flashing, the audience applauding and talking loudly. It was a struggle to keep his posture and face perfect, stabs of self doubt creeping in.

It was even worse when he paused at the end of the runway, doing the three still poses for the cameras, his eyes focussed out into the crowd. Usually it was just a sea of faces in the darkness, but this time his eyes fell on a gorgeous dark-haired man. Blaine Anderson.

In those mere seconds Kurt took everything in, his perfectly styled dark curls, those huge honey brown eyes, his sleek designer suit. The attractive man at his side, holding his hand.

Then he was turning, heading back up the runway, having an even harder time holding it together.

The rest of the show was a blur. Kurt simply changed clothes and worked the runway in an almost numb state. Even Sebastian's continued insults didn't penetrate his fog. He only lived for those few seconds at the end of the runway, his eyes landing unerringly on Blaine Anderson each time. Feeling like his heart was breaking all over again to see him whispering in his date's ear, or laughing together. He almost missed a step when he saw Blaine kiss the other man's cheek.

The designer was pleased with the show, and encouraged all the models to mix and mingle at the reception. Sometimes Kurt skipped these, since he was pretty established in the business and didn't need to network constantly. But he couldn't miss this one, even though he probably should.

Changing into his own clothes, Kurt was glad he had dressed well today. Olive green jeans that clung to his legs and ass like a devoted lover, and abstract geometric shirt that caught the eye and held it. The colours brought out his fair skin and blue eyes. He nodded in satisfaction as he smoothed a few hairs into place. Battle armour on. He was ready as he'd ever be.

The reception was in a huge hotel ballroom, with a live DJ and a bartender crafting impeccable martinis. It was invite only, the rich and who's who peppered through the crowd. Tall, slim models of both sexes ambled through the crowd like giraffes, skittering away from the servers who offered them canapés. Welcoming the ones offering drinks. Exotic beauties the regular people gazed up at in awe.

Kurt made a beeline for the bar, and flashed a flirty smile at Sam. He was mostly sure the guy was straight, but there had been a few lingering looks in the years they'd known each other that Kurt thought something could happen in the right circumstances. In the meantime, the awareness between them got him a flavoured vodka and soda placed before him within a minute.

Taking a few steps away, Kurt sipped the drink, the cool alcohol helping him relax as his eyes scanned the crowd.

Blaine and his date were sitting in a VIP corner, champagne being lavishly poured for them by other people in their group. Blaine came from wealth and had increased it, making him quite comfortable in those circles. His quiet confidence drew many people to him. Kurt knew this far too well.

"Kurt," someone called out to him, and he turned towards the voice. It was Sam, placing another vodka soda on the bar for him.

Exchanging his empty glass for the full one, Kurt shot him a grateful smile. Sam has been a bartender enough years to be able to read when someone needed some liquid courage.

The alcohol was hitting his empty stomach, and Kurt was looking at the passing trays of delicious tidbits with more interest. Maybe he didn't have Blaine anymore, but he could grab a whole tray of crab cakes. Or leave now and get a meatball sandwich. Or a pizza. Or a cheesecake.

Sebastian passed by about then, and caught where Kurt's gaze was locked. "So that's why you were so fat."

Kurt just rolled his eyes. "No, it was because every time I fucked your father, he gave me a cookie."

The way Sebastian's eyes flared in anger was enough satisfaction. The taller man didn't get a chance to respond before a few of his friends pulled him away.

Kurt watched him sass shay through the crowd, and couldn't deny that he had the ideal body for a male model. He was the type of guy who had been a cute, skinny kid, shooting upwards quickly into a tall, angular awkward teenager. But his body had caught up, muscles rounding off those sharp edges.

Now he had long, slim but muscular legs. Nice shoulders and arms. His chest was perfection. Well defined pecs, and a twelve pack, or so it seemed. And all that combined with thick hair, wide green eyes and a killer smile. No wonder Sebastian Smythe had been the top male model for years, and nobody was even coming close to knocking the king off his throne.

Even though Kurt knew it was futile, he kept trying. He didn't want to be the top model himself, but wanted to knock Sebastian down a peg or two. Just to be one of the few who didn't bow to his power. Kurt's taunts frequently hit hard, and he was petty enough to feel a zing of satisfaction from that. One of the few things he took pleasure from lately.

...

An hour later, he'd finished a couple more drinks and was really feeling it. When he came back from the washroom, a good looking guy grabbed him, dragging him on to the dance floor.

Many people had left, and the remaining ones were well on their way to getting drunk or high. Kurt felt good and loose, enjoying grinding with his handsome stranger. Being desired and admired was almost as intoxicating as his vodka, and he teased and flirted. Working the crowd.

He might not have Sebastian's height or muscles, but many were still attracted to him. His young looking face, big blue eyes and fair skin. His slim body. His ass. Many would still label him a twink, even though he was getting a little old for it.

A friend passed him an ice cold bottle of water, and he tipped his head back, draining it thirstily. He shot his friend a grateful look, and saw someone staring at him in the background. Blaine.

Even half way across the ballroom, he could feel the weight of that stare. Those incredible, hypnotic eyes, framed by thick eyelashes and dark, triangular brows. He had once drowned in those deep, expressive pools. Could remember them brimming with admiration, lust, and eventually love. Closing his own eyes, Kurt turned away.

Strong arms encircled him. "Are you OK there? Need some air?"

His dance partner had been treating him good, getting him drinking, flirting and flattering him often. Obviously hoping to go home with Kurt soon for some naked fun.

There was a small flicker of interest, his libido urging him to take what was so eagerly being offered. He could be worshipped for a night.

He sighed, shaking his head, and stumbled away. Reaching the doorway, he held on to the frame for a second. Was he too drunk to get home safe?

A strong arm came around him, and for a second he feared it was the guy he'd just left. He wasn't in the mood for a persistent admirer tonight. But when he looked to the side, it was Sam, the bartender.

"Need some help?" the tall friendly blond offered, his wide mouth stretched into an easy-going grin.

Kurt immediately relaxed against him, feeling safe. "Yes, please. Help me to a cab?"

A few minutes later Kurt felt better, inhaling the cool night air, feeling his fuzziness lifting a little. Sam waved for a cab, and waited with him while one pulled up.

Suddenly, Kurt really didn't want to go home alone. "Um, Sam," he said softly, hoping he wasn't misreading things. "Do you have any plans when your shift is over?"

Sam big hazel eyes warmed. "Actually, I'm done work. No plans."

Impulsively, Kurt grabbed his hand and yanked him along into the back of the taxi. Sam chuckled, going along with it. He slammed the door. "Are you kidnapping me?"

Kurt shrugged. "It's only kidnapping if it's against your will. I'm only 'aggressively encouraging' you to come home with me."

Sam gave a sexy half-smile at that, shifting closer to Kurt. "Then you better give your address to the driver."

...

-A/N: Another free-standing story in this Tropes series. Overall, I think it's a fairly fluffy story, but it is going into weight/eating issues a fair bit. Please review the tags to see if there is anything triggering for you, or feel free to message me on tumblr to ask questions.

-This story has the tropes: "Bitchy models who snark at each other on the runway" AND "Blaine eats people, but he's cute & dating is hard"

-I've done drafts of the whole story & think there will be 5 chapters, about 20k words.