So just know that this is obviously all in good fun. Disclaimer- I don't own Glee or those sexy bitches. I wrote this for a friend after watching my favorite Lonely Island video on repeat, so this is basically my own take off of that. Just note that Blaine is very un-dapper, and Karofsky makes a brief appearance. Enjoy!

Oh I posted the video link at the bottom of the page, in case there's any confusion XD

Blaine had been on a Lonely Island high for about a week. Listened to all of the songs, watched all of the videos- multiple times. His brain was corrupted. At the time Kurt was asking him questions he was re-playing "Ras Trent" for the fiftieth time on loop in his mind, so he hardly registered what he was saying, let alone what he agreed to. So when he found himself standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor three days later, he was a little more than confused. He pushed through the groups of people, finally spotting Kurt near the back, spooning himself an interesting blue liquid into a cup. "What are we doing here?"

Kurt jumped slightly at the appearance of Blaine, yelling loudly over the thump thumping music. He looked at the smaller boy, an eyebrow raised.

"Really, Blaine?" He yelled just as loudly over the music. "You agreed to come out with me tonight." He paused so his words could be understood. "See, there's this guy-" Kurt motioned over Blaine's shoulder. Blaine turned with narrowed eyes, looking at the man Kurt must have been pointing to. I agreed to that? Really? he thought, trying to keep any trace of anger or jealousy from his face. He examined the man from afar, and took in his tall height, shaggy brown hair, lean figure, and illuminating smile. Blaine wanted to kick him.

"Oh! Right." Blaine finally turned back to Kurt after a long pause, who had been watching his friend with his lips pursed, a smirk fighting its way on there.

"So, you want to ask this guy out or..." Blaine felt awkward, yelling something somewhat intimate just so he could be heard.

"I do!" Kurt nodded so hard, Blaine feared his head would break off of his shoulders. He watched as the brown-haired boy took a sip from his cup and leaned closer to him. "I was hoping maybe I could just start off with a...dance? What should I do?"

Blaine wanted to roll his eyes and tell him to not even bother; nothing good could come of it. But being a good friend and his 'mentor'- he knew that wouldn't be advisable. Ever such the dapper gentleman was he.

"I say, just go do it." He spoke a little softer as the bass quieted down, and moved even closer to Kurt, turning to face his rival. "Obviously he's alone; not many people come to clubs to just stand there." He noted the obvious signs the guy was giving off- empty drink in hand, nonchalantly tapping his foot and moving his head to the music, eyes scanning over the room for potential partners- oh yeah, he was looking for a happy ending to the night.

"I-I should?" Kurt looked at Blaine with wide eyes. He didn't really know what to expect bringing Blaine here, but it certainly wasn't his best friend telling him to go off with some random guy. But it was too late for Kurt to back out now. He handed his half-empty cup to Blaine, then ran his hands over his clothes and hair. "How do I look?"

Fucking amazing. Blaine did a once over of Kurt, training his eyes not to repeat the process. "You look great. Now get over there! I'll be here." He flashed Kurt with that grin of his, though there was no real emotion behind it. Kurt returned with a smile, almost sadly, before he departed his dear friend to pass carefully through the crowd to the stranger. Blaine watched, his eyes glued on the scene in front of him. He watched as Kurt, being shorter lean up on his toes to speak in the man's ear, and felt his heart sink a little as the man responded with a smile and held out his hand for Kurt to take. He casually took a sip from Kurt's cup as he watched his friend being pulled into the crowd, looking happier than he had been in weeks. He grimaced at the foul taste of...whatever this was he was drinking and set it back on the table. Sighing he finally broke his mold and found himself walking sluggishly through the bustling crowd. He realized, hands in his pockets that he was walking toward the exit. Did he really want to do this? He stopped, and almost as if he could sought the boy out just with senses alone, he slowly turned his head to the left.
The music was fast, the bass loud, and Kurt's hips were matching it perfectly. Blaine's eyes slowly rolled over the figure, dancing back to chest with the strange man, who seemed to be loving every minute of it. Blaine turned on his heel 90 degrees so he could properly look at the boy. Just then he heard the bass thump-thumping fading away, replaced by a slow, almost sultry R&B tune. Learning it from his boys from Lonely Island, he knew exactly what to do. His hands flew out of his pockets like they were on fire and immediately started working on those goddamn buttons of his cardigan.

Tell you what I did last night; I came home, say, around a quarter to three

Blaine slowly pulled his cardigan from his shoulders, hips moving slowly to match the beat of the song, his lips moving along to the words. He never took his eyes off of Kurt, who seemed to be oblivious to this spectacle and continued dancing to a different beat, but even he seemed to slow down.

Still so high, hypnotized, in a trance

Blaine found his hands roaming all over his own body, through his messy black curls and back down over his face and neck to his abdomen. He looked Kurt up and down shamelessly, eyes fixating on that perfect, round ass of his.

From this body, so butter and brown and tantalizing, you woulda thought I needed help from this feeling that I felt

His hands ran down his thighs, narrowly avoiding his unit. There wasn't time for that- not here, anyway. He brought his hands up to the hem of his shirt, twisting his fingers into it as he mouthed along to the next line

Oops, there goes my shirt up over my head. Oh my

And off the shirt went, flying off into the crowd somewhere. Hands roaming all over his somewhat hairy chest, grabbing at his own non-existent tit; he just couldn't seem to stop himself. He would've felt worse at the fact that Kurt hadn't taken notice, but caressing himself watching the boy he wants dancing to his own rhythm seemed to work for him.

Oops, there goes my skirt droppin' to my feet, Oh my

Blaine cursed himself for owning nothing but skin-tight jeans, so unbuttoning them would have to do for now.

Ooh, some kinda touch caressin' my legs. Oh my
Ooh, I'm turning red who could this be?

Blaine's eyes closed momentarily as he ran his fingers over the V of his rolling hips, imagining they were perhaps someone else's hands. He opened his eyes, still half-lidded, as a finger made its way to his mouth, resting on his bottom pouty lip. He was taking all he learned from doing the Carmen Electra striptease workout alongside his sister and actually applying it.
I looked over to the left

And just like fucking clockwork, as if he had actually planned to recreate the video itself, who should Blaine see to the left but Karofsky, appearing out of virtually nowhere, a very familiar garbage bag shirt draping his wide frame. He was taken aback just for a moment, but smirked in approval as Karofsky sang back-up.

Umm I was lookin' so good I couldn't reject myself
I looked over to the left
Umm I was feeling so good I had to touch myself

Blaine continued to dance sensually to the beat, hands roaming through his chest hair, lips pursed in a "he means fucking business " way. Karofsky just continued bopping along to the beat behind him, lip-synching only when Missy's vocals were noticed..

I looked over to the left
Umm I was eyein' my thighs: butter pecan brown
I looked over to the left
Umm comin' out of my shirt and then my skirt came down.

Karofsky started dancing beside him, rocking that garbage bag. Blaine shut his eyes as his lips continued to move to the lyrics.

Blaine.
Oh my- ooh
BLAine.
He shut his eyes tightly, adding extra emphasis on the last OOH!

"BLAINE!"
Blaine's eyes finally shot open, stopping him in his tracks. The music was definitely quieter, and now he could see a sea of faces staring back at him. He looked down to find his hands resting over his thankfully clothed nipples, and looked down to make sure everything else was still intact too. Trying to pass it off as though he was brushing the lint from his sweater, everyone just seemed to shrug it off and the bass picked up again. Blaine looked up and met Kurt's eyes, not able to tell if the look was amusement, disappointment, confusion, anger, or all of the above. He dropped his hands as he stared back at the brunette, who was still standing rather close to the taller man, leaning over Kurt to speak into his ear. With a long exhale, Blaine stared forward, noting his target.

"Courage, you fucking weirdo." He mumbled to himself, not really caring if anyone could see him talking to himself. It couldn't get any worse than it apparently already had. Looking around for any trace of Karofsky, he then started forward and approached his slightly taller friend, who turned to face him just at that moment.

"Blaine, what the hell was that? What were you do-" Before he could spit out another spiteful sentence, Blaine lightly grabbed his friend's delicate shoulders and thrust himself forward, meeting his lips with Kurt's. He opened his eyes briefly to find Kurt's were open too, wide and staring at him. He pulled away slowly to better see his friend, keeping his hands on his shoulders. He could only smile as he watched Kurt's lips attempt to form words, but nothing would come out, until finally he gave up and replaced it with a flushing grin. Blaine returned it before letting his hands drop from his shoulders, one stopping to grab onto Kurt's hand.

"Come on." He began to tug the boy through the crowd, who seemed to forget any of it was there, as he followed the shorter boy in a daze. They exited the club into the cool Spring night, but not before Blaine flipped his earlier rival the finger.

Lonely Island- Oops, Oh My: .com/watch?v=KCxx6WjHMH0