I know I've said this before, but this story really is 100% my husband's fault. I made a random joke and he not only took it and ran away with it, he stole it, refused to give it back, taunted me with it and then smothered me with it like a pillow while I slept.
The story is very loosely based off of Coyote Ugly. I tried to keep the past mostly canon, except Kurt and Blaine never got back together after he cheated in Season 4.
As Kurt made his way to the back of the room, he tried to think of any last minute alternatives that he just hadn't considered yet. It takes about ten minutes before he manages to shift his way around all the people and he finally has to admit that any other options had been tried and had failed. He really has to do this. Damn.
He'd lucked out. As Kurt steps up to the scarred wooden bar, he comes almost directly face to face with the only person that works there that wouldn't make him want to run away, Elliot.
"Kurt! Hi, buddy! What are you doing here? I thought you didn't approve of 'such establishments'?" Elliot just looks curious, not mocking or snide. Kurt still doesn't understand how this lovely jersey boy is making it in this city without growing callous.
"Hey, sweetie. I can't really talk at the moment. I need to speak with..." Don't insult him, you know he's probably hiding, waiting to pop up or something. "...your manager. Any clue where he is?"
Elliot just smiles and nods back toward the other end of the bar. Kurt turns to look but it's so overrun and crowded that he can't even see past the people to the other side. And the bar isn't curved. Jesus.
Nodding, Kurt thanks him and signals that he'll talk to him later. Pulling away from the masses a bit, Kurt goes around the main clump of bodies, hoping to slide up along the wall. As he gets closer though, he realizes that isn't going to happen. Finally fed up, Kurt throws up his bitchface and ice shields and starts bodily pushing his way through the crowd.
By the time he makes it back to the front, he's half tempted to just jump the bar to talk to him... how will he even hear Kurt over this noise? Instead he stands and grips the rounded edge, waiting to be noticed. When the asshole finally turns to him, he's clearly expecting a customer. His cocky grin drops immediately and Kurt is left flushing in embarrassment at the cruel smirk aimed at him before Sebastian turns away and gestures to the next patron without asking Kurt what he wants.
Huffing out, Kurt leans over as much as he can and calls out, "I need to talk to you!"
Sebastian doesn't even glance at him, just yells back, "I'm working. Come back tomorrow. Or never."
Kurt glares at him, "Let me rephrase. I'm going talk to you. I've already cleared it with Blaine, so you should know already that you can't win."
Sebastian scowls, trying to figure out what Kurt could possibly want and why he would go over his head to Blaine without coming there first. While he's still trying to figure it out, Kurt hears stomping and looks up to find Sam Evans grinning down at him, kitted out in skimpy leather biker gear. Dear god, who told him it was okay to wear that?
"Kurt! El told me you were here! Get your ass up here and dance with me!"
Kurt shakes his head, smiling, "No way in hell."
Sam adopts a sad puppy look, "Come on! We used to dance together all the time!"
Kurt crosses his arms, huffing. "Dancing and singing alone in my room is not the same as crawling up there. Plus there's no hairbrushes to sing into. Not happening, Sam."
Before Sam can respond, Sebastian replies, in a voice dripping with acid, "Oh, you have to be shitting me. Tell me you two didn't prance around in your pajamas having pillow fights and singing Motown songs. Where the fuck was Finn? Didn't he stop you? Or take pictures for blackmail?"
Sam smiles widely, "That's why I hung out with Kurt. Finn was always getting dragged around by Rachel back then. And shut up. It's not like we braided each other's hair." Ignoring the mumbled, "It wasn't long enough..." Kurt turns back to Sebastian,
"Anyway, what I was saying is, I've already talked to Blaine about this. He agreed to hire me. He said to just come down on Friday, that you'd be busy and could use the help. He said he'd leave you a message... I guess you didn't get it?"
Glaring at Kurt again, Sebastian calls out, "No. I haven't checked my messages in a couple days, my phone died yesterday."
Kurt just blinks at him. "It died. Yesterday. Of what?"
A shrug, "Needs charged I guess. Couldn't find the charger, so I said fuck it."
Kurt looks outraged, "You run a business, Sebastian! You have to have your phone charged and usable!"
Another shrug, "Why? It happens all the time. I don't really need it, everyone knows where to find me."
Kurt huffs, "Maybe to avoid exactly this situation?!"
"Honestly, Sister Maria, this is not a situation I could have prepared myself for no matter how charged my phone was. I thought you looked down on the professions you find beneath you and us mere mortals who work them? And what the ever loving shit do you mean he agreed to hire you? To do what? We don't need someone to knit us tea cozies and sneer at us."
Sam cuts in, still grinning, "Yeah, we prefer whiskey and Seb has the market cornered on sneering."
Sebastian doesn't even glance at Sam, just says, "Don't you have an ass to shake or something? Go away, Sam." After the blonde winks and dances away, Seb turns back to Kurt. "Seriously, what are you doing here? There's no way in hell you actually want to work here."
Scoffing, Kurt leans forward. "Of course not, I just don't have a choice. I'll explain it later. I was under the impression you needed help now, and like I said, I've already talked to Blaine about it."
Seb glares before finally shrugging. "Fine. Whatever. Just get down there and help get Elliot out of the weeds."
Kurt grips the bar tighter, breathing out a heavy sigh. And thus begins my downfall.
He hops over the bar and walks down toward Elliot. "Hey, hun. I hear you need some help?"
After just a few blinks, El smiles at Kurt before gesturing to the crowd of people clamoring for attention and calls out, "Okay everybody listen up! This is a new guy! He's here to help, so if you have a very simple order, he's got ya, otherwise, stick with me kids."
Kurt rolls his sleeves up quickly, having left his coat with the bouncer, and asks the first guy, "So what will it be, hun?"
An hour later, the crowd finally thins out enough that Kurt can stop and take a good look around for the first time since he walked in. Glancing to one end, he finds Seb still somewhat buried in drink orders and smirks a little. Asshole. Hope he's stuck there all night.
Glancing in the other direction he sees that Sam is tending the bar station on that end and that Puck is the one dancing now. Kurt shakes his head and signals to Elliot that he's going to go check on Sam.
As he works his way down to the other end, he laughs or winks at the cat calls and comments thrown his way. God, I can't believe I'm doing this. They better not be lying about the money they make or I'll kill them all bloody.
Coming up beside Sam, Kurt leans on the back counter running along the back wall and smiles at him. Before he can say anything though, Sam laughs. "Got him to cave, huh?"
"Nope. Went straight to the source. Sebby Bear didn't have a choice. Like I was going to come groveling to that asshole? Yeah, right."
Puck finally notices him and struts over with a smug grin. "Hey, Princess! What the hell are you doing here? Especially behind the bar? Our fearless leader will never shut up if he sees you back there."
Kurt snorts, "Well, he better get used to it. I'm the new guy. Go easy on me." Kurt sends him an over the top wink, hoping to make the former bully uncomfortable. He really should have known better.
Puck just laughs, "Oh, no way. What happened that made you actually 'sink this low'?"
Kurt sniffs. "I'll talk to you guys later, just do me a favor and save all texts and exclamations until after I get a chance to talk to everyone? At least until after we finish the shift."
They nod before Puck turns to Sam, "Okay, dude. Your turn up here, let me make some tips."
Sam laughs and grabs his leather hat, jumping back up on the bar. After the cheers die down, he turns back around. "Okay, seriously man, get up here with me."
Kurt glares. "No way. I'm like Elliot. I don't dance."
Sam scoffs. "Bullshit. Elliot is religious, and a good person. You're neither. And I've seen you dance at clubs. Get your fine ass up here." When all Kurt does is continue glaring at him, Sam concedes. "Okay, fine. I guess Seb was right about you. You are just a prude, huh, Maria?"
As Sam turns to strut away, Kurt snaps. Oh, fuck that. If I'm going to work here, I might as well get the best tips I can. And fuck Sebastian Smythe and his opinions.
Calling out, Kurt reaches up to Sam, "Okay, Trouty, help me up." As soon as he takes his hand, Kurt puts a foot up to the bar and gets a rather unnecessary boost from behind. The first thing he does is turn to glare at Puck. "Keep your hands off my ass, Noah. I trust that 'I'm straight' excuse less and less every day you work here."
Seeing nothing but a smug grin from Puck as he continues to tend the bar, Kurt turns back to Sam to see him already dancing close by, winking at his 'fans'. Quickly figuring out that he wasn't going to attempt the hip rolls and shimmies that he hadn't really done since high school, Kurt reaches out to grab Sam as a song starts.
He recognizes it right away. 'Dynamite' by Taio Cruz. He leans close and speaks only loud enough for the blonde to hear him, "I can't do that shit without practice, just dance with me?"
Sam's smile couldn't be wider without breaking something. "Sure, babe!"
It takes Kurt a little bit to warm up, but luckily so does the song. By the time it really picks up, Kurt is smiling widely and trying to ignore all the guys watching them dance.
Despite knowing everyone that currently works in the bar, Kurt hadn't spent much time here. He doesn't really know how they usually act. He's just dancing and hoping everyone will take it as him being new if it's not the right way. If it earns him the blushing virgin persona, well, maybe that's for the best. At least then everyone wouldn't be expecting him to slut it up too much.
Sam seems more than willing to ease him into the life of a bar dancer, keeping his distance and only letting his hands drift down to his ass once. Apparently he's alone in his patience.
As the song winds down, Kurt almost groans aloud at the transition into 'Rude Boy' by Rihanna. You have to be shitting me.
Turning to the bar, the first thing he sees is Sebastian smirking at him. Before Kurt can do more than glance at him, Sam leans in. "Prove him wrong, dude. We both know this is you doing PG-13 at best."
Kurt turns to Sam and raises an eyebrow in question, silently asking how far he's willing to take it. All he gets is a wide smile. Well, if you insist.
Kurt strips off his tight black vest, leaving him in only black skinny jeans and a very tailored purple dress shirt. He immediately grabs Sam by the back of the neck and one hip, pulling him in closer and rolling his body against him. Once Sam grips Kurt by the waist, Kurt moves his arms up to loosely drape them around his neck, swaying his hips and slowly moving closer to grind against Sam's crotch.
Sam recovers quickly, and moves his hands down to Kurt's ass, doing some of his stripper rolls against him, clearly playing it up for the crowd. Kurt closes his eyes and loses himself in the music.
When the song finally tapers off, he reopens his eyes to find himself pressed back against Sam's chest, grinding his ass on his hard-on. His face burns in embarrassment when he remembers that he isn't in the middle of a club but on full display for an entire bar full of people, most of which are now staring at him. Shit.
Before he can really start to panic and figure out what the hell he was doing, Sam leans down and says, "Hell yeah, man! That's what I'm talkin' about! That oughta shut Seb up."
Kurt laughs and turns to press back against Sam, hoping to hide his own slight erection from everyone else. "So, it wasn't as embarrassing as it feels?"
Interrupting Sam's attempt to answer, Puck bangs a hand down on the bar, gesturing at them. "My turn, dude. If he's gonna dance like that, we're switching out every other number."
With a smirk at Kurt, Sam drops back down, and Puck climbs up, grabbing Kurt around the middle and dragging him further toward the middle of the bar where more people can see them. If it just happens to be that much closer to Sebastian, well, that's probably not why Puck looks so smug as the next song starts up.
Merely a coincidence.
As Kurt's first night dancing in a bar comes to a close, he drops down to lay on the slightly sticky surface of the scarred wood. Usually he would be appalled by his own actions, worried about his clothes, but honestly? Right now he couldn't give a shit. He just really wanted to lay down. Possibly forever.
After hearing the bouncer boot out the last guys and chain the door, Kurt glances over at the familiar face and smiles at him.
"Hey, Dave? Can you grab me something to drink? I seem to have forgotten how to move."
David Karofsky chuckles and moves back behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of water and handing it to Kurt, knowing better than to toss it. On a normal day, he might stand a chance of catching it, but not today.
Kurt groans as he reluctantly sits up, opening the water. As he crosses his legs and watches Sam and Puck count their combined tips, Kurt glances around, looking for Sebastian and Elliot. He really can't believe that this combination of his friends have ended up in New York, let alone working in the same bar.
Kurt blames Blaine. Which is normal, be blames Blaine for a lot of things. He blames Blaine for cheating on him less than a month after telling Kurt he had to leave Lima. He blames Blaine for making their friendship awkward for the first year, refusing to admit that they were over. He blames Blaine for following Kurt to New York even though they weren't together anymore. He blames Blaine for allowing Sebastian fucking Smythe to crash on his couch for months after they'd graduated high school, apparently that being 'the only place he could go' for fuck knows what reason. And he blames Blaine for opening this damned bar in the first place.
When Blaine had first told him, in between classes at NYADA, where Kurt had to see him and play nice every fucking day, that he was opening a bar with Sebastian, Kurt had laughed. He'd assumed Blaine was kidding. Except Kurt's still waiting on the punchline. It's now been almost two years since that fateful conversation and well over a year since it opened.
Blaine had used his trust fund to buy and furnish the place, and hired Sebastian to manage it, so he could focus on school. Kurt was surprised and confused that Sebastian had signed up for such a low class job. Surely he's in school too, right? How he managed classes and running a bar, Kurt had no idea. He didn't care enough to ask.
Of course as soon as Sam had heard what his new bestie was up to, he'd moved to New York, dragging Puck along, and crashed on Kurt's couch until they could save up for their own place. It had taken a surprisingly short time for them to move out. Blaine had probably been paying them extra back then to cover for the tips they weren't making yet. Kurt had, again, not asked. It wasn't his business, as long as the ex-Titans got off his futon, he didn't question it.
It had been Sebastian that had talked Dave into working there as the bouncer. Apparently, Seb had felt so bad about what he'd said to David that he'd visited him in the hospital, and that had spawned a friendship neither had seen coming. So when Sebastian had moved, he'd kept in touch with Dave. After an injury playing football at the beginning of David's sophomore year, he'd lost his scholarship. Faced with the choice of couch surfing with friends or moving back in with his dad, David had relocated to New York and was now roommates with Seb.
Thanks to a high GPA, especially for an athlete, and the fact that he was already a sophomore, Dave had managed to transfer to a college in New York. It wasn't as high profile as his previous school, but they had a great financial aid program.
As for Elliot, Blaine had actually approached him, stating that he was hot, gay, and trustworthy, and would he like to be a bartender? Apparently, Elliot was easy to convince, as long as he didn't have to actually dance on the bar.
And now there was Kurt. He'd known about the bar from the beginning but had mostly avoided it. He'd been called to pinch hit a few times when one of the guys was sick but he was always like Elliot. Strictly serving drinks. He's unimpressed that he's already been convinced to dance... he'd caved during his first shift. Oh, this was a terrible idea.
Sam pops up, holding all of their tips, evenly distributed and wrapped with rubber bands. As he walks over and presses Kurt's share into his palm, Kurt tries to focus on the money and not the sense that he's doing something he should be ashamed of. It's not like he's stripping or whoring himself... and he'd never looked down on Sam when he actually had stripped.
Kurt coughs, glancing at the stack of bills. "So... how much did we make?"
Sam yells out from behind the bar where he's grabbing his jacket. He'd already changed into his street clothes. "Over $500 each, dude. Love this job."
Frowning, Kurt turns to Puck, still kitted out in cheap biker gear. "Okay, though, seriously... what's with the clothes? I get that you guys are matching up, but who the hell picked bikers? I am not wearing that."
Puck grins, "Take that up with Seb, Princess. I'm pretty sure he and Blaine came up with the 'costumes' or whatever."
Kurt glares at Puck for a few seconds before huffing. After glancing around, he sees that Seb is no where to be found. "Where is the smirky asshole anyway? I really should talk to him before the next shift."
Dave shrugs, throwing away the last of the empty bottles and moving over to grab their coats, Puck having darted into the bathroom to change. "He left while they were still counting, he doesn't take a cut or anything, if that's what has you worried. You keep the tips you make. Hell, he doesn't even force Puck and Sam to consolidate, and they didn't with John. It's a fairness with friends thing."
Sidetracked, Kurt asks, "Oh yeah, I forgot about that guy."
Dave just nods, handing Kurt his vest, black peacoat, and heavy scarf. "Yeah... well, that's probably for the best. He had a run in with a customer. Apparently he hadn't explained to his boyfriend what exactly he meant by 'I work in a bar'. Dude came to surprise him at work and ended up breaking a regular's nose. Seb fired him on the spot. Nothing is worth that drama."
Kurt snorts. Jesus. If you're going to work in a place like this, the least you can do is warn your family and friends. Poor 'boyfriend'. I can't imagine dating someone and finding out they were doing this. I'd dump him just for keeping this shit hidden. At least be honest about it.
"Okay, well, cautionary tales aside, I need to talk to Sebastian. Since he can't be deigned to charge his fucking phone, can you tell him I'll come by about noon to talk to him tomorrow?"
Dave nods, "Sure. He's usually here to restock and clean up a bit anyway." When Kurt just nods and continues to re-layer himself, Dave glances at Sam and then at Puck when he walks back in before finally asking, "Okay. So seriously, what the hell happened? Why are you here, Fancy?"
Sam speaks up. "Yeah, you could hardly stand working the bar before, what changed?"
Kurt winces, wrapping his scarf around his neck and looking from face to face. He knew he wouldn't be able to get away with not telling them for long. He should have just bailed as soon as Sam handed over his tips. With a sigh, Kurt crosses his arms and picks a spot on the floor to glare at.
"Well... you know the winter showcase at NYADA is coming up?" Kurt watches as they all nod, Blaine had been gushing about it for weeks, hoping he'd be chosen this year. Kurt goes back to staring at his spot on ground. "I was picked."
All of the guys make noises like they are going to congratulate him but Kurt just winces again.
"I turned it down." Kurt is met with dead silence. Well, that's familiar, at least. He'd gotten the same silence from both Rachel and Blaine when they'd found out. Carmen Tibideaux had been a little more... verbose.
After Rachel's crash and burn their sophomore year, Kurt had been feeling unsettled at NYADA. It had been so easy for everyone to sit back and judge her for her poor decisions, calling her flaky and unprofessional, but Kurt had wondered. What would he have done in the same position? Is he going to end up just like her? Working his whole life for a goal that he decides in an instant that he no longer wants?
Here he was, killing himself, and burying himself in debt, to go to an overpriced school that taught him things that he either mostly already knew or that he could pick up in classes at the YMCA. And for what? 'To become a star on Broadway'? And then what? He was going to spend years of his life playing the same role? The same thing over and over again? Almost everyday, sometimes multiple times a day, for years?
He'd barely survived Dalton and the Blazers of Doom for a few months, how would he handle the same play for longer than a month or two? And what if he needed time off? What if his dad got sick again or something happened to Finn? Or Carole? He wouldn't be able to go visit without missing shows.
When Kurt had realized that he wouldn't make it, that he'd tank his career the same way Rachel had, he'd pulled himself from NYADA. He couldn't stay there and waste money on something he wasn't sure would even become his profession. He could have stayed through until graduation, true. He was a senior, he could have finished this semester and next, and been done... but he'd have wasted another year. And for what?
So he'd stopped. He'd dropped his classes, sworn the hobbits to silence, and gone job hunting. He'd had to leave VogueDotcom years ago, much to his disappointment. He'd loved it there, but he needed a job that actually earned him money. Now even more so.
After pointless searching for weeks, and not finding anything above minimum wage, he'd resigned himself. Blaine had tried to get Kurt to consider working weekends at the bar for months, Kurt had always scoffed at the idea. Now, the sad reality is that if he doesn't have his student loans, he's not going to be able to afford rent.
The silence is finally broken by Puck, who says, "Dude... what?"
Sighing, Kurt looks up to them and states plainly, "I'm not going into it guys. Just know that I dropped out of NYADA and I'll be working here as much as I can. I need the money. Anyone in my family finds out that I'm working here, I'm coming after you guys with cuticle scissors." Kurt turns to Dave, "Be sure to pass that message on to the meerkat."
Sam grimaces, "Those are the tiny ones, right?"
"Yes, sweetie. It would take awhile to cut anything off, but I'm dedicated. I'll tell my dad next time I see him but I think we can all agree that Finn finding out would be a major problem. Which means Rachel can't find out either."
After receiving nods from the former jocks, Kurt smiles and heads for the door, tossing over his shoulder, "Great! See you guys tomorrow."