Song used in this chapter: Sam Sparro – Black and Gold. Definitely worth it to check out the music video on YouTube. The tuxes looked spiffy, the footwork was smooth yet crisp, and the backdrop was simply hypnotic.
Blaine looked down at himself and sighed. He was always a little bummed out when he looked at his body. But it wasn't that he was flabby in any way or even remotely out of shape. In fact, he'd even consider his muscles pretty toned, thanks in large part to working out consistently and taking up boxing as an extracurricular. He flexed his abdomen a little and watched with satisfaction as his core tightened up. Then, as if to ascertain whether these abs were indeed muscle and not packets of misshapen fat, he ran his fingers along each one so that he could feel how defined they were. It'd be a while yet before he'd have the perfect figure he so desired, but daily progress checks like this were enough to convince himself that he was making good progress on his soon-to-be six-pack. He finally exhaled deeply, allowing his core muscles to relax and return to their normal resting state. No, he definitely wasn't disappointed with his body in the muscular sense. What dismayed him…was how hairy he was.
Blaine had a habit of getting philosophical when he was left alone with his thoughts for too long. This morning was no different, and before he realized it, he had begun contemplating evolution. Specifically, he wanted to know why humans hadn't yet evolved to the point where body hair was obsolete. One would that at some point, the human genome would suddenly realize all that excess hair was not only unnecessary, it was burdensome. At least the female gene pool was doing it right; they didn't have chest/breast hair to worry about, nor did they have little stubbles growing out of their crack (the pooper crack, not the pisser). Why couldn't males genes just catch up already? He had always heard about how women developed faster than men, but for this trend to hold true in evolutionary processes and patterns of genetics? He was starting to think the Y chromosome was a god forsaken liability.
Then again, it wasn't like Blaine was atrociously hairy. To be fair, his body hair was akin to very soft peach fuzz, and was no longer than half an inch at most. Still, it was more noticeable than he'd have liked it to be. Especially along his chest, his abdomen, his "happy trail", and all the way down under… Speaking of which, Blaine stretched out his boxer briefs to see how just how untamed and unruly his pubes were this particular morning. He let out a long sigh as he let the waistband snap back onto his body. Blaine was convinced he was suffering from some kind of curse; how else can one explain why pubes grow back so damn fast? He had just shaved there last week too! Blaine shook his head in annoyance as he headed to his bathroom with his electric shaver.
He decided to contemplate his insecurity as he set his trimmer into motion. Blaine wasn't exactly sure why he felt insecure about his hairiness, since he knew it really shouldn't have been a big deal at all. For one thing, such a shallow and superficial insecurity contrasted glaringly against the rest of his confident persona. Secondly, it wasn't like he was dating anyone anymore, so he had no real reason to even worry about 'maintenance.' And even when he was with Kurt, they had never gotten past kissing so what reason was there to keep his body hair well groomed? Blaine turned off his trimmer and began to inspect his work 'downstairs.' After three shakes (anymore would be considered 'playing'…and he only 'played' at night) to get rid of stray hairs, he gave himself an approving nod. All he had to do now was shower and use copious amounts of conditioner, and he'd be itch-free for the day.
Unfortunately, his lingering thoughts proved to be 'itchier' than his pubic hair. What had started off as a little worry in the back of his head had developed into a strange obsession over the course of the school day. He couldn't even explain what had caused this sudden onset of anxiety, let alone find a way to deflate it. All he could think of was how his interpretation of 'slightly hairy' might be construed as extremely so by others. It got to the point where he had convinced himself that he needed to order a waxing kit and/or depilatories (those creams that would make hair 'disintegrate') as soon as possible. He was so entranced in looking up hair removal products on his iPhone, that he hardly even noticed a lone figure following him into the choir room.
"You ready for this Blaine?" Blaine flinched reflexively, fumbling and almost dropping his phone as he spun around to see who was talking to him. There stood Mike, holding up two garment bags containing the tuxedos they'd be wearing for their performance today.
"D–definitely!" Blaine hated how he always seemed to squeak nowadays. He cleared his throat before speaking again. "You know we've got this down, we've been practicing all week." He took the shorter garment bag from Mike and began pulling out the contents.
"You mean you've got it down. I'm only doing this because you asked me to," said Mike as he grinned reassuringly. He unzipped his own garment bag as well and started inspecting the various articles of clothing inside.
"You're making it sound like you don't want to do this anymore…" Blaine's voice trailed off as he tried to inconspicuously watch Mike take off his shirt.
Blaine felt his mouth drop open as he gasped quietly. He had always known Mike was athletic and fit, but what he saw before him now was simply breathtaking. If his brain hadn't been working, and if he had no shame, he probably would have popped out his iPhone to take a picture. Thankfully, he had enough tact to resist such a move, but not enough willpower to stop staring. As he kept looking (inconspicuously of course), he felt his mind wander in two different directions. On one hand, it completely boggled Blaine's mind how any man's body could reach such a state of near perfection. On the other, it filled Blaine with an insatiable longing. Mike's lean, toned, and most importantly hairless body was everything he ever wanted, if not for his own body, then at least to touch, to hold, to…
"Seriously…" Blaine muttered aloud, in reference to whether the flawlessly sculpted body standing before him was seriously real or not.
"Seriously what?" Mike asked as he turned to face Blaine, snapping him out of his reverie.
"Y–you've seriously improved this past week! Trust me, I can tell."
Mike grinned in appreciation. "That's not what I meant, but thanks! I'm just saying you could've rocked this song on your own, you didn't need to turn it into a duet." Blaine tried to respond, but was too busy pretending not to admire Mike's body.
"Aren't you going to change?" Mike asked as he dropped his pants in one smooth swoop. If Blaine hadn't been obvious about his wandering eyes earlier, he was making it completely evident now. Blaine felt his eyes bulge open when he saw Mike standing in just his boxer briefs. Tight boxer briefs at that. He mentally cursed Mike for wearing black, and not a more revealing color like white.
"Y–yeah of course," Blaine mumbled nervously as he finally pried his eyes off of his unsuspecting eye candy. His conscience was beginning to settle in, as he felt incredibly guilty for eye-raping his fellow glee clubber. But just when he regained enough composure to begin taking off his shirt to change, Blaine suddenly stopped.
By this point, Mike already had his dress shirt on. "We're going to be late you know," said Mike warningly as he pulled on his tuxedo pants.
"My bad, let me just–" Blaine looked around the room for someplace private to change. His self-consciousness was making a comeback, and though he knew Mike probably saw hairier guys in the locker room, he couldn't help but feel a little vulnerable about showing off any part of his body after all his thinking today. Then again Mike wouldn't care about how hairy any guy was in the first place, since he didn't swing that way, but just to be sure…Blaine decided he would change while leaning against the piano, with his back facing Mike so his front wasn't exposed.
His plan worked for less than thirty seconds. Before Blaine could even finish buttoning his dress shirt, Mike had pranced around the piano to face Blaine.
"Hey can you do my bowtie? Mine are always lopsided for some reason." The untied bowtie hung loosely from around Mike's neck. Blaine stared blankly for a second, before chuckling a little.
"Yeah I got it. I've actually noticed the crookedness before, and I've been meaning to tell you–"
"And tell me what? That I look like a hipster noob?" asked Mike jokingly as he puffed out his chest to make it easier for Blaine to tie the bow.
"Don't need to. Everyone can already see the evidence." Mike feigned an offended gasp, causing Blaine to smirk a little as his fingers continued to work quickly and deftly. As he went through the motions of the knot, he could sense Mike looking down at him, most likely at his still exposed chest hair.
Blaine sighed as he finally mustered the confidence the talk about it. "You didn't think a little guy like me could be this hairy huh."
"Ehhh, it's whatever," Mike said indifferently. But as disinterested as he may have sounded, Mike continued to look down at him.
"Just whatever?" Blaine asked as he urged his fingers to move faster. "I don't know about that, I seem to be quite a bit hairier than you."
"Hairier than an Asian? That's one amazing feat." Blaine could hear the joking sarcasm in Mike's voice, and mentally thanked him for trying to make him feel better. Too bad the only thing that'd make him feel better was if Mike would stop looking down at his chest hair.
"You seem to be astonished by it though, judging from the way you're studying it so intently." Blaine could feel his anxiety setting on as his fingers faltered on the final loop.
"I'm not though," said Mike lamely.
"Oh really? Then what would you call what you're looking at right now?" Blaine asked tersely as he finished tying the bowtie.
"…I'd call it a well-tied bowtie." Mike cheerfully smirked as he tugged on the two ends of his bowtie. Despite Blaine's slightly aggravated state, he had still managed to make the perfect knot. "And I honestly wasn't looking at your chest at all. I was just trying to watch and memorize how you tie your knots." With that, Mike sauntered away, leaving Blaine to nurse his growing blush. Why do I always feel like transferring back to Dalton after talking to him?
"But you know," Mike called out as he threw on his jacket and donned his hat. "Some people find chest hair pretty manly, sexy even." A bit thrown off by the comment, Blaine turned to see if Mike was joking with him or not. But all he saw was a glimpse of a teasing wink as the taller boy quickly disappeared around the corner.
Blaine finished dressing promptly and rushed over to the auditorium, where he found Mike waiting backstage. After a quick nod of acknowledgment, Blaine took one of the prop canes from Mike and stepped out onto the stage. Mike followed after, slowly spinning his own cane to match their leisurely stride. The pair strolled to the center of the stage and bowed deeply, making sure to properly tip their top hats like the gentlemen that they were.
"Alright boys! Looking quite dapper if I do say so myself!" Mr. Schuester was clapping and cheering encouragingly from his usual spot behind his desk in the middle of the auditorium. "So what are you two performing today?"
"Just a little side project," said Blaine coolly. "A duet actually, to show off both of our singing and dancing chops."
"Very nice, and a very interesting choice for a duet partner too! I'm especially excited to see what you've got planned Mike."
"Well, hope I don't disappoint," Mike responded hesitantly. Blaine could hear the uncertainty in his voice, and anxiously glanced over at Mike. The dancer hadn't shown any nerves all week during any of their practices, but he now seemed a bit edgy, restless almost. He couldn't blame the boy though; this was Mike's first real duet, if Blaine recalled correctly.
"Oh I'm sure you won't. Let's hear it then!"
If the fish swam out of the ocean
And grew legs and they started walking
And the apes climbed down from the trees
And grew tall and they started talking
Blaine sang the first verse while standing back to back with his partner. Deep beats reverberated throughout the auditorium, filling their heads with a strong and repetitive rhythm. Mike tapped his feet along to the bass beats as Blaine drummed his cane on the floor at the same pace. The two of them did a sharp 90° pivot and strode forward jauntily as Blaine continued to sing. But as he tried to sing with all his conviction, his mind kept drifting back to his insecurity and had actually taken a turn for the worse. Whereas previously, he was just obsessing over how hairy he was, he now felt agitated by how such a pointless issue like hairiness could even bother him in the first place (if that made any sense). Why do I even feel remotely ashamed of my hair? I should be comfortable with who I am after all.
And the stars fell out of the sky
And the tears rolled into the ocean
And now I'm looking for a reason why
You even set my world into motion
They performed a quick, full-circle spin as Mike parted his lips and sang. The two of them stood at the edge of the stage, legs shoulder-width apart, stamping their canes to the tempo of the song as Mike projected his deeper voice. Blaine decided that he would take advantage of this brief reprieve in singing and examine himself more deeply so as to figure out why he was so upset. He refused to take his insecurities at face value, since he figured that there was always an underlying reason to them. Once he found that underlying reason, he could properly rationalize it out and finally put his worries to rest. And so he treated his problem with hairiness like every other insecurity he'd put down before. He dug through his recent thoughts, scoured his old ponderings, tried to recall off-handed remarks made by this person or that, all in the hopes of finding some significant detail that would explain his displeasure with himself.
Cause if you're not really here
Then the stars don't even matter
Now I'm filled to the top with fear
But it's all just a bunch of matter
Cause if you're not really here
Then I don't want to be either
I wanna be next to you
Black and gold, black and gold, black and gold
As Blaine paused his train of thought momentarily in order to sing the chorus, he was taken aback at how well Mike's voice blended with his. Granted, it was Blaine who was doing the more challenging task of harmonizing, but Mike's deep and cool voice really was just perfect for this song. It was surprising Blaine hadn't noticed it before during their practices, but he supposed it was because Mike had been drilling him so hard on the choreography that he didn't have a chance to notice the other boy's voice. And sure enough, the two of them continued through their fancy footwork, full of toe stands, shoulder slides, and strutting back and forth while flicking their canes all around. Right on cue, Blaine did a quick spin and ended in a slight lunge to his side before taking off his top hat and casting it aside.
I look up into the night sky
And see a thousand eyes staring back
And all around these golden beacons
I see nothing but black
The yellowish-golden stage lights were darting back and forth across the stage, as if to accentuate the pitch blackness around the two performers. Eventually, the lights all converged on Mike as he took his own top hat and threw it like a Frisbee to Mr. Schuester. Blaine twirled to the side of the stage, where he could admire Mike's dancing and singing. For a moment, watching the older boy perform in all his radiance seemed to take Blaine's mind off of what had been plaguing him all day.
I feel a way of something beyond them
I don't see what I can feel
If vision is the only validation
Then most of my life isn't real
The two met back to back again as they started singing the chorus. They dropped their canes as they started snapping their fingers to the rhythm, all the while taking large and relaxed strides towards the front of the stage. With each step their snaps got louder, and with each sway they swaggered just a little bit further. The frenzied crescendo of their voices and their stepping and their snapping got louder and louder and louder…until it all finally snapped into place. In a moment of enlightenment, Blaine experienced the long-desired epiphany that would help him realize why something so pointless as excessive hair was causing him excessive agitation.
And it all came down to him being gay. It was because he was gay and that already inherently limited his selection of dateable people to the small percentage of males who also happened to be gay. It was because he was gay and the kind of guys he liked, the smooth and hairless 'twinks,' generally did not like hairiness even if it was only slightly so. It was because he was gay, and more than anything else in the world, he feared ending up alone. Alone, because of something so stupid, so meaningless, so completely arbitrary…like hair. The realization struck him hard and struck him fast, and for a moment, struck Blaine incapable of remembering the next few dance steps.
So Blaine improvised. As if retaliating against his insecurity, against the perceived injustice of the gay mentality, Blaine danced to the chorus more fervently than he had before. The whole time he could sense Mike's eyes on him, and knew that Mike was picking up on the change in his mood (not to mention the drastic change to their dance routine). But Blaine didn't care. The song was ending soon and he wanted to take advantage of the hypnotic rhythm and spellbinding beats to just…dance out his frustration. Mike watched intently, bemused more than anything else, and enjoyed the dancing spectacle before him. Not one to be outshined in dancing, Mike finally decided to jump forward and grab Blaine's hand. He tightened his grasp as he pulled Blaine towards him, before spinning him out like a human whip. Finally, in one last dramatic display of their dancing expertise, they used the tip of their shoes to kick their discarded canes into the air. In perfect sync with one another and the final note of the song, they reached out and caught the cane as it came falling back down, and proceeded directly into a deep and graceful bow.
There was a long and eerie silence, interrupted only by the sounds of the two boys panting heavily. They made no effort to look at each other, and instead kept their gaze transfixed on the black floor beneath them.
"That…was incredible! Visually stunning and completely entranced my ears. You two boys have really outdone yourselves with this one, especially you Mike!" Mr. Schuester was standing from behind his desk and applauding them vigorously, throwing in the occasional high pitched whistle for good measure. The two of them finally looked up to meet his approving gaze, and could see the genuine awe in his eyes. Mike broke into his characteristic smile, face crinkled with glee and eyes tightened to a slit. Blaine just grinned weakly as he sighed in relief.
"That was…pretty intense out there. Got you all sweaty huh?" asked Mike as he took off his pants. They were back in the choir room and changing, but Blaine felt too tired to indulge in stealing glances of Mike's amazing figure.
"Yes Michael, getting sweaty is certainly one of the many perks of being abnormally hairy," said Blaine sarcastically as he unbuttoned his own shirt.
Mike flinched a little at hearing his full name being used. "It's Mike, not Michael. Sounds too serious…" "My bad Mike. It's just…I guess I'm just a little–"
"Worked up, I know. I could tell from the way you were dancing…and that snide little remark right earlier," teased Mike, as if to assure Blaine he wasn't offended. Blaine let out a ragged sigh in response. He knew Mike hadn't signed on to hear him rant, but if he didn't get it out now, he'd explode from the angst.
"It's just…my hair you know? Being gay already makes it pretty hard to find someone. Add to that being hairy? That's a double-kill."
"I don't see why it should matter," said Mike resolutely as he slipped back into his skinny jeans.
Blaine walked across the room shirtless to retrieve his clothes, not caring if Mike saw anymore. "How so?" Blaine asked simply.
"Well…you just don't seem like the type of guy who'd settle for someone so shallow as to consider hairiness a deal-breaker." Mike gave him a knowing look as he slid on a simple v-neck. "That and, I'm pretty sure what you've got there is just peach fuzz. You got nothing to be worrying about."
"Thanks Mike," said Blaine as he allowed himself to chuckle for the first time that day. It surprised him that Mike could affect and reverse his mood this much, that fast. "I didn't know you regarded me so highly, even if you're just saying all that to be nice."
"No I'm serious! You can't even call that hairy until you've seen the bush I'm working with." Blaine practically scoffed aloud at Mike's comment. Leave it to a straight boy to make inappropriately gay remarks.
But something in the back of Blaine's mind goaded him to indulge in the conversation. "I was talking about body hair in general, but do feel free to share your misfortune," he said lightheartedly.
"Well I mean I've just never shaved or trimmed down there. Afraid I'll cut myself, or worse…decapitate my second head!" Mike shuddered at the thought as Blaine legitimately laughed out loud.
"It's actually not that scary if you use an electric shaver. Only problem is, once you start, you can't stop. It just keeps growing back."
"Oh I know, that was my other issue with it. And when it grows back, it grows back hairier right?"
"Definitely! Don't get me started on how itchy it is too…"
Blaine was genuinely enjoying the casual yet crass nature of his conversation with Mike. Granted, it was absolutely peculiar that he was connecting with the upperclassman over pubic hair…but for some reason, Blaine didn't mind. In fact, he appreciated it. Mike had unintentionally helped Blaine quell his inner apprehensions (for a second time now), and for that he could only be grateful. But before Blaine could even express his gratitude, a voice called out to them from the back of the room.
"Lord Tubbington is definitely hairier than both of you."
Mike and Blaine stopped dead in their tracks. They slowly turned around to face the unexpected voice that had spoken to them. There sitting in a dark corner of the choir room was none other than Brittany.
"Brittany," Blaine started as he tried to think of an appropriate way of phrasing his question. "How long have you been sitting there? And listening?"
"The whole time." Brittany may have looked completely dazed, but they knew she wasn't joking. Mike started chuckling under his breath.
"Why didn't you say anything? No wait, why are you even here?" asked Blaine as he started chuckling too. He wasn't mad at all actually, just relieved that it was Brittany and not someone else.
"ESPN-age," explained Brittany calmly. "Stripping is now a professional sport, so I was watching you two and now I'm reporting it all back to ESPN." The two boys had no idea what she was talking about, but didn't really need to listen to the rest of her story to know that it would be about even more absurd. They just laughed as they each offered her an arm and walked out of the room together.
Unfortunately, neither of the boys realized how similar-sounding 'ESPN-age' and 'espionage' are. And unfortunately, neither of the boys happened to notice a very smug Santana observing them from a safe distance.