Just Two Friends

I've spent about two weeks - wait, maybe three - trying to get this up here. FF let me load the document but not add another chapter. I tried 3 computers, two browsers and three internet connections. Has anyone else had this problem?

I've spent the last few days practically coughing up a lung and being unable to breathe properly, so this took a back seat. Plan is to update every Sunday so, permitting, the next chapter WILL be up next week! Or maybe before because I feel guilty that this took so long

Disclaimer: Really? Do you think it's mine? If you recognise it, it's not. Although I do now own a very shmexy poster of Darren Criss from his UK gig that I went to on Wednesday. I let him blow my mind. A-mazing

The next morning found Kurt in a large dance studio above the streets of New York. He unwound his blue Hermes scarf (a Christmas present from Quinn because he didn't really have the money right now to buy his own expensive scarves) and peeled off his Marc Jacobs coat (from when he could afford it). He looked down as the outfit he had spent forty minutes putting together. But, of course, it didn't look like it had taken him forty minutes; that was the beauty of it. He had on a pair of black leggings that disappeared under a pair of black Doc Martens, and he had on a simple loose off-white shirt that kept slipping off his left shoulder in what he hopped was a mildly attractive fashion. And then there was his hair, coifed to perfection. Yes, he was ready for a day of intense singing and dancing. There was just enough hairspray in his hair that his style should stay in place and he was confident that his outfit made him look like a professional dancer in a broadway musical. Broadway. Kurt had to keep reminding himself that it was all real.

He looked around the room to see who else had already arrived. It was mostly chorus members that he still didn't really know, Ellie – the surprisingly quiet young woman playing Elphaba – Jess who played Nessa and Blaine. Ah Blaine, always first to arrive and last to leave. No-one seemed to work as hard as he did.

Blaine walked over to him,

"Hey, good weekend?"

Kurt pointedly ignored the butterflies in his stomach that arose from Blaine's proximity. It was insane.

"Yeah," he fought to keep his voice even and luckily it seemed to be working, "I did some window shopping and then I spent Sunday with Mercedes. How about you?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. Kurt had never seen him do that before and he couldn't help but think he rolled his eyes all the time. Had Blaine picked it up from him? It made Blaine look slightly funny and Kurt bit back a smile.

"My crazy brother's staying with me for a while. He's between cases so he thought he'd 'crash' at mine for 'a few days'. All without any warning. I love him, but sometimes I hate him, you know?"

"Oh!" Kurt laughed, "I know; it sounds just like Finn."

"Your step-brother, right?"

Kurt was touched that Blaine should remember anything that unimportant about him. Blaine was officially the cutest hobbit he'd ever seen.

"Hobbit?"

Oh, apparently he'd said that last bit out loud. He glanced at Blaine and couldn't decide if he looked hurt or amused. Probably both.

"But a cute hobbit," he protested.

Oh god, he thought, you're digging.

"5 7" is not. Hobbit. Sized!" He punctuated each word by poking Kurt's bicep, which he found to be surprisingly muscular.

Ohmygod! Physical contact, Kurt's mind was screaming. Is it too much to poke him back? I want to poke him back.

"Whatever." He shoved Blaine playfully and, for one brief moment, his hands were flat against Blaine's stomach. And in that brief moment he felt the muscles in Blaine's stomach beneath his soft blue cashmere jumper. He wanted to feel more; he wanted to see if the rest of Blaine's muscles were as beautifully defined. He had to restrain himself from reaching out to touch. Of course the rest of him's defined; I've seen how he dances.

Kurt was shaken from his thoughts by the show's director clapping her hands. Looking around he saw that everyone else had arrived, including the choreographer Mike Chang.

No-one had been surprised when he'd gone into dancing professionally. No-one had been particularly surprised when he'd become a choreographer. Some people were surprised when, despite his chemistry degree, he'd started choreographing broadway shows. But everyone had been surprised when Mike and Kurt had started work on the same production, not that either of them minded; it was nice to see a familiar face.

"I want to run Dancing Through Life with full singing and dancing. Blaine?"

He nodded and pulled off his jumper. Kurt couldn't help but let out a small gasp as his t-shirt rode up with the jumper to give a tantalising glimpse of those abs before Blaine tugged down the red polo shirt down.

Focus, Kurt reprimanded his brain, I'm in this number.

Blaine took up his predetermined 'casual' stance and looked up to begin the song.

The trouble with school is…

Blaine's silky voice filled the room and Kurt's heart. From his position upstage he watched as Blaine sung, danced and flirted with Molly who was playing Galinda. The flirting caused bubbles of jealously to rise in his belly. It was stupid because Blaine was just acting and he wasn't even Kurt's boyfriend so he had no right to be jealous. He still didn't even know if Blaine was gay! He'd never really had a 'gaydar'; he'd never known enough gay people to develop one and he certainly hadn't figured Karofsky out until the 'incident' in the locker room.

He almost missed his cue. Almost. He was too good to actually miss it; his cues were all too deeply rooted in his subconscious.

"Miss Galinda," he took a step towards Molly as she turned towards him, "I hope you'll save at least one dance for me? I'll be right there, waiting. All night." His voice shook nervously just as the director had told him.

He went through his next few lines on autopilot before stepping into the section of the studio marked out as 'offstage'. From there he was able to watch Blaine again. He was good. Not better than Kurt – no-one was better than Kurt – but he was good. Very good. Maybe even just as good. In a different way. His dancing was slicker, maybe his acting too. But his voice was just too different to compare Kurt decided. He realised then that he could quite easily watch Blaine perform forever.

He thought back to his conversation with Mercedes. It was true what he'd told her: that he and Blaine had very few scenes together and even fewer where their characters actually interacted. This meant Kurt couldn't offer to run lines as an excuse to spend more time with Blaine. Because, even if he was straight, they still had a lot in common and Kurt wanted to be his friend. Right now they were more like colleagues or acquaintances. But they certainly got along very well.

In his thinking time the song had moved onto his next cue. He had some more musical dialogue with Nessa and then some awkward dancing with a wheelchair. Except it wasn't that awkward – which never failed the impress their director, Ruth Mayne – because in his Glee Club years there had been Artie and so Kurt knew how to accommodate a wheelchair. Actually, Jess (playing Nessa) was a bit crap in her chair and Kurt had to completely lead her.

The number finished after his flawless (if he did say so himself) performance and he looked around. A few people were panting slightly, not him and not Blaine. Because Blaine was in perfect shape. Even Mike looked impressed.

The morning continued in the same way with the director drilling the cast on all of their musical numbers again and again. And then again. After four hours they were finally granted a 45 minute lunch break. If Kurt didn't love his job so much he might be inclined to think that this was slave labour.

"So, Blaine," Kurt all but skipped over to him, "do you want to grab lunch together?"

"Of course. Same place as always?"

"That heavenly sandwich bar?"

"The very same, let me just grab my jacket."

Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand to pull him down the stairs and into the cold New York streets. Ahh, New York; it never failed to mesmerise Kurt. He felt a shiver run up his arm as the contact that was nothing to do with the cold.

All too soon Blaine dropped his hand in favour of wrapping his scarf tighter.

"Nice scarf." Kurt mentally faceplamed at how stupid that had sounded, but Blaine didn't seem to notice.

"Yeah? Late Christmas present from a certain idiot brother by way of an apology for just turning up on my doorstep."

"Well, it really is a nice scarf." What? Fuck the scarf!

Blaine shrugged,

"He probably had my mum pick it out. It's alright I guess."

"Alright?" Kurt could not let the dismissal of such an accessory slide. "Blaine," he spoke slowly as if explaining something to a small child, "this is an Armani scarf. I know how much this cost. I think you own your brother a massive thank-you."

He was actually raising his eyebrows as if daring Blaine to contradict him.

Except… he was rubbing the back of his neck and opening his mouth to say something.

"Yeah, I know; he left the price tag on. And I saw it in Vogue last month. But, Kurt, money's not really an issue for my brother… or, for any of my family."

"Oh." Because that was a lot to take in and Kurt hadn't been expecting any of it. Blaine read Vogue? Interesting. But he also hadn't expected that Blaine, who'd borrowed quarters for his laundry, would be super rich. He just… didn't seem like a trust fund baby. Kurt couldn't really explain it.

"Besides," Blaine tried to move on from what was clearly an awkward topic for him, "I like my old school scarf."

"The grey and red one?" Yes Kurt, make it obvious that you pay the guy more attention than's normal.

But Blaine smiled slightly,

"Yeah."

"We're here."

Blaine looked up and opened the door for Kurt. They spent lunch and the walk back to the studio in a comfortable conversation on their favourite music. Kurt found out that Blaine too had been a member of his school Glee Club. Although it sounded rather different to Kurt's own experiences.

That was the last thing they talked about before they were thrown back into rehearsals. They were so full on that the two of them didn't speak again until three hours later when Blaine came up to Kurt as he was getting a drink of water.

"Hey, Kurt, I was wondering if you would do me a favour?"

He sort of cocked his head in an adorable pleading manner. Kurt couldn't really deny Blaine anything.

"Of course."

Blaine raised one of his perfectly triangular eyebrows,

"You don't even know what it is yet."

Panic.

"I would do anything for you Mr Blaine."

Kurt really hoped Blaine picked up that that was a reference to one of his lines from Dancing Through Life otherwise he would look like an idiot. So it was to his great relief that Blaine smiled and seemed to even muffle a small laugh.

"Awesome. I just want to run a song with you. Ruth says I make these weird faces when I sing and I have to 'fix that immediately.' You don't even have to sing; you can just speak the lines and maybe go through the motions. If you know them, I mean."

Kurt knew the 'motions' to all of Blaine's songs.

"We'd have to stay late though," he continued, "when the studio is empty."

Alone time with Blaine? Now Kurt definitely couldn't say no.

"Sure," he squeaked. Why did he squeak? That wasn't sexy at all.

But once again Blaine didn't notice, or was just too much of a gentleman to acknowledge it. Yeah, that was much more likely.

"Awesome. Is tonight ok? I'll treat you to a drink afterwards."

This just keeps getting better.

"What," he coughed to level his voice out, "what song?"

"Oh, right. Yeah. As Long as You're Mine."

Oh. Because that was the big romantic duet.

Maybe Kurt couldn't do this.

Or maybe he can ;)

You'll have to wait and see.

So, reviews are love. Thank you so much for all of them so far, and for all the alerts... Who didn't review but… whatever. I can't get mad because I've been known to do it :S

xxx

Hannah