Here it is: next part! I'm so glad to head that you guys are enjoying, and I hope it continues. Things are obviously starting to heat up, so enjoy the ride!
I did something that I was very much trying to avoid in this chapter, I fudged history. It's a very small thing, but in reality RuPaul wasn't on Sabrina the Teenage Witch until about nine months after when this story is set. Again, not a bit deal, but I thought I'd mention it!
Endless thanks to my beta, julesmonster. I'm really enjoying re-living the 90s with you!
Come say hi on tumblr, practical-amanda
"So, how do I look?" Blaine said resignedly, waving his hand down his body to call attention to his outfit.
Wes raised both of his eyebrows, "Hmmm...like a homeless person that had a particularly lucky day rummaging through the dumpsters behind Brooks Brothers."
Blaine huffed, folding his arms over his chest, "well, you refused to tell me where we're going. How was I supposed to know what's appropriate?"
Wes chuckled, "I guess you're right," he conceded. "Just...lose the jacket and the tie and you should be fine."
Blaine complied, leaving him in a fitted button down and khakis, "now will you tell me where we're going? This is getting ridiculous."
"As if," Wes said, tugging on his jacket, and pocketing his wallet and his keys. "If for no other reason, than my extreme excitement over seeing your face when we pull up to the club."
"So it's a club then?" Blaine said, grasping at the small amount of information that Wes had let slip.
"Yes, it's a club," Wes said, rolling his eyes, and allowing Blaine to walk out the door before him. "That's not really the part that I'm hoping to surprise you with. And by the way, when you have your immediate snap reaction of anger, remember that I'm voluntarily accompanying you to a place like this. One day you will thank me, and totally owe me one."
"Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to really disagree with that assessment of the situation," Blaine said, hopping into the cab that Wes had hailed.
"Just wait and see, Blainers. Just wait and see."
It's actually a huge testament to Blaine and Wes's relationship that Blaine followed him to that club without knowing where he was going. For as long as I've known him, Blaine's had trust issues. It probably came from keeping such an intense secret for so many years, but he's not typically one to open up and allow someone else to take the lead. But, they were brothers. People used to ask why Blaine bothered having a room mate, when he could clearly afford to live on his own. He would always brush off the question, insisting that 'he's not anyone special', but I think Wes always knew the truth. There were so few people in Blaine's life who he could be completely honest with, and he wanted...no, needed to keep them close. Little did Blaine know, that following Wes to that club that night would lead him to increasing that number of people by one, at least in the long run.
Now, I wasn't a club rat, not even close, but I did enjoy the occasional night out on the town. When my busy schedule allowed it, I would dress to the nines in my best club wear, pre-game in the apartment with Wade (on the nights when Unique wasn't performing), and head out for a night of dancing. I rarely remember any details from those nights. In a way, that was the best part, that they became a fuzzy blur of gyrating bodies and too much tequila. That night, however, I remember with a startling clarity that I've rarely been able to match in my lifetime. The day I came out to my dad and realized that he would accept me no matter what, my wedding, the first time I held our son: those are the only events that rival that night in how starkly they stand out in my memory.
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"How do I look," Kurt said, spinning in front of Wade who was in the process of applying his drag makeup. "These are new pants," he added, wiggling his butt.
"Delectable, as usual," Wade said, as he smacked his lip together to spread his lipstick evenly. "You better not get too drunk before my performance. I need you to provide a proper critique. After I'm finished you can get as shit faced as you want," Wade added, giving himself a final once over before packing up his garment bag to bring to the performance. "Do you want to share a cab with me? Unique doesn't take the subway."
Kurt rolled his eyes, but agreed, "I guess I'm a big time TV designer now. I can afford the occasional taxi. Are you ready to leave now?" Kurt asked.
"As I'll ever be," Wade replied, although Kurt wasn't sure where Wade ended and Unique began, or which one he/she technically was now.
It's interesting to talk about Unique in passing at this point, given the fact that apart from maybe RuPaul and Lady Bunny, she's as close to a household name as a drag queen ever becomes. As far as queens go, Unique is fairly iconic. That's another story for another book (one that I've been on her case to write for ages now!), but for now I think it's important to note that the kind of gigs she was getting at this point in her career were fairly C-list at best. She was playing talent nights at gay bars and dance clubs.
Rush, the bar that she was doing Aretha at that night, was about at high profile as she ever got, and she had to compete with the real appeal of places like that, the opportunity for guys to hook up. I'm not saying that it was a necessity, but when I got into that cab that evening, I was fully expecting to wake up in a stranger's bed. I was not expecting to meet my husband that night. And yes, the word 'meet' here is very intentional. Up until that point I had met Blaine Anderson: Teen Heartthrob. I met Blaine right by the bar at Rush.
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"Are you fucking insane?" Blaine shouted, yanking Wes by the wrist out onto the alley behind the club, "you brought me to a drag show, at a gay dance club? Are you trying to out me?" Blaine asked. He was positively fuming.
"Are you fucking insane?" Wes asked as a counter. "Look at yourself right now. You couldn't win a Blaine Anderson look alike contest with that dead animal on your chin."
"That's not the point, Wes. The paparazzi are literally everywhere. Their eyes have eyes, and do you have any idea what a story like this would be worth to them? Blaine said, his anger was slowly ebbing away to be replaced with sheer panic.
"I think you're the one missing the point here, Blaine," Wes said, trying to calm him down. "You told me you wanted to see something new, something like you've never seen before. This is that thing! I've heard that the performances here are amazing, and times are changing. For christ sake, RuPaul was on Sabrina the Teenage Witch the other week. It's practically mainstream. But, I swear to you, no one is going to recognize you. I barely recognize you, and not a single person here would think for a second that Blaine Anderson would be at a club like this looking like a lost member of Pearl Jam."
"Only one of them has a beard," Blaine mumbled, still looking down at his hands.
Wes sighed, "Blaine, you want the truth?" he began, "I know you verbalized it as a being bored as an artist, but I can tell you're unhappy. Hiding who you are is taking a toll on you. I know you're not ready to come out, but I thought I could give you one night, just one night to be yourself. I know it's a bit of a risk, but it's going to make you feel better, it's one I think is worth taking," Blaine was still staring down at his hands, "look, if you want to leave, we can leave. I'm sorry I took you here in the first place," Wes said, turning around to make his way out of the alley.
"Wait!" Blaine called out suddenly, surprising himself more than he surprised Wes. "I...I think I'd like to stay," Blaine said tentatively. "I mean...see the show and all..."
Wes's face broke into a huge grin, "I knew you'd see things my way."
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"Can I buy you a drink?" Blaine heard a voice from behind him. Suddenly he felt a body pressed up behind him, bigger than him and too close, and smelling of alcohol, cologne, and sweat. "A guy like you looks like you could use a little loosening up."
"I...um...," Blaine fumbled for the right words. He had been single-mindedly working towards a career as a television star since the age of sixteen. He hadn't had time for sexual exploration, and he certainly hadn't had time to learn how to act in a dance club. "I already have a drink," he said breathing a sigh of relief when the man made his way around him so that he was next to Blaine at the bar instead of behind him.
Blaine was finally able to get a good look at him. He was attractive for sure, but he was smarmy in a way that, if Blaine was honest, reminded him a of a trait of his own that he'd like to lose. He was taller than Blaine by a long shot, and he had lean face topped with a swoop of brown hair, "nothing wrong with having one on deck," the man said, gesturing to get the bartender's attention. "And someone as cute as you would get snatched up in an instant. I have to get in before it's too late."
Blaine blushed and shoved his thick, horn-rimmed glasses up onto his nose. As uncomfortable as this guy was making him, it was nice to be hit on by someone that didn't have any boobs for once. It was amazing how his natural flirtatiousness just vanished when faced with someone that he might actually want to get with, "I uh...it's just...it's really nice of you to offer, but..."
"Sebastian, haven't you leered on enough men at this point to know when someone isn't interested? I know you've made it your life's mission to prey on anyone who looks shy or bookish, but someday, someone's going to scream rape and it might be me," the voice, that must have belonged to an acquaintance of the man, Sebastian his name was, got louder as the person got closer to the bar.
Once the voice was close enough to hear with any sort of clarity over the music, Blaine almost instantly froze. He knew that voice. He had almost jerked off to that voice in the shower two days before, until he started feeling guilty, and went back to fantasizing about Freddie Prinze Junior eating a Popsicle without a shirt on.
"Don't be ridiculous, Hummel," Sebastian said, taking a sip from the martini that the bar tender had just made him. "I just hadn't seen him around before, and I wanted to be the first to welcome him to the city's finest homosexual establishment."
"Yeah, okay, then what's his name," Kurt said, finally turning his attention to Blaine. He thought he saw a small flicker of recognition in his eyes, but Blaine was pretty sure that Wes was right. His disguise was pretty fool proof.
It might have been the world's worst disguise. I recognized him immediately.
Blaine took a moment to appreciate what Kurt was wearing. He figured it was okay to stare a little bit. No one knew who he was, and Kurt had obviously picked the outfit to get attention.
"I might have gotten a chance to get his name if you hadn't come barging over, Grandpa Gay," Sebastian said, staring daggers at Kurt.
"Yeah, okay, you let me know when you're ready to admit that you're just a regulation sleaze," Kurt said, acidly. Blaine was starting to appreciate what Kurt's sarcasm and biting whit could accomplish when it wasn't directed at him.
"Whatever, I'm bored," Sebastian said, grabbing his drink and making to walk away, "if you decide you want to get away from this serious case of gay face at any point, I'll be on the dance floor," Sebastian said to Blaine before strutting away.
"Ass hole," Kurt said under his breath. "Not all of us are like that, okay. I don't want your first experience at a gay club to be sullied by someone who thinks poppers are an acceptable substitute for a bouquet."
"Hey, what makes you think this it my fist time?" Blaine asked. Kurt was right, of course, but Blaine couldn't help but feel slightly indignant at being called out on it.
Kurt turned to him and raised one of his eyebrows in disbelief, "why don't you come to the diner with me down the street. We can get some coffee and I'll explain it to you where we can have some peace and quiet."
"I'm not sure that's such a good..."
"Take me up on my offer, Blaine. Before someone else recognizes you."
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Blaine took a tiny sip from his tea. He was feeling jittery enough. There was no need to add coffee to the mix. "So...um...I guess you have a lot of questions," he said quietly, refusing to look Kurt in the eye. After being called out at the club, Blaine practically saw his career flash before his eyes, but after some gentle assurance from Kurt that he wasn't about to tell anyone, he was convinced to leave the club behind, and follow him to the previously mentioned diner. He was going to tell Wes he was leaving, but before he could say anything this room mate sent him off with an over exaggerated wink.
Kurt exhaled quietly, "not as many as you might think." He had never seen Blaine look more like a little boy. He looked nothing like the star that graced his TV screen every week, or the man that flounced around set like he owned the place. Being in the club alone wouldn't have been enough to convince Kurt that Blaine was probably gay. Straight people going to see drag balls wasn't unheard of, it was practically trendy, but the way Blaine had reacted to being recognized, combined with the way he was behaving now, was a definite hint in that direction. "You don't owe me an explanation, Blaine. You don't know me, and I certainly don't know you. We can pretend this never happened, and on Monday you can go back to being the lady's man I already thought you were. I'm not going to tell anybody. Why you were in that club, is none of my business."
"I took the easy way out, you know?" Blaine said suddenly, looking Kurt in the eye for the first time. Kurt just stayed silent, waiting for Blaine to continue. "You walk around with your stupid honesty and those stupid pants like it's the easiest thing in the world, but do you know what would happen if...do you know what they would do to me if..." Blaine let out a shaky breath, fisting tufts of his unruly curls and squeezing his eyes shut.
"It's going to be..."
"Okay, I know. I've heard it a million times," Blaine scoffed, cutting Kurt off. "My room mate tells me practically once a week. 'It will be okay, Blaine. One day it won't matter,'" Blaine mimicked. "I want to know when!" Blaine said, losing the slightly angry bite to his words. He seemed resigned.
"Being you seems pretty difficult, for someone who claims to have taken the easy way out," Kurt said quietly, as if talking to loud would break the spell that was causing Blaine to open up to him.
"No, I chose the easy way out when I was sixteen and starting out in the business, and now, at 22, I'm paying the price," Blaine said, taking a sip of his tea. It was almost ice cold at this point.
"It doesn't have to be that way, Blaine," Kurt said, reaching his hand out to squeeze Blaine's, before thinking better of it and pulling back. "Things are changing. The world isn't what it was when we were teenagers. Hell, the TV world isn't what it was two months ago. My room mate always jokes that's we're now living in one AE 'after Ellen'," Kurt said with a slight chuckle. "I mean, who knows. In ten years, maybe the story will be about a handsome prep schooler meeting the man of his dreams on a staircase, instead the hot girl from the sister school. It's not just fiction anymore. This is actually happening all around us!"
Blaine actively had to fight back the excitement of Kurt implying that he was handsome, "you don't understand," Blaine said. "Anyone could have seen me tonight. I'm going to have to do some serious damage...,"
"You're right," Kurt said firmly, and Blaine snapped his mouth shut in surprise at his tone. "I don't get it. I was born with this high voice, and these stupid pear hips, and apparently a tattoo on my forehead proclaiming that I'm gay. I didn't get a choice Blaine. You can pass: congratulations. That doesn't make either of us the 'winner' here."
Blaine wanted to insists loudly that there was absolutely nothing wrong with Kurt's hips. Instead what came out was, "I never said I was gay."
Kurt gaped back at him, "Blaine...I...you were just at a gay bar."
"I was dragged there by a friend who decided it would be a good way to expand our understanding as artists. We were there to see the show."
Kurt couldn't believe what he was hearing. He felt like he was in an episode of the Twilight Zone. "Blaine you can't seriously expect me to believe that..."
"I'm sorry about the misunderstanding. I shouldn't have come here with you. It was a mistake," and with that, he dumped a few bills on the table and began his hasty retreat, mumbling something that sounded a lot like 'I have to call my publicist'.
Kurt...well Kurt didn't know what to think. And he certainly wasn't as surprised as everyone else when a bold headline graced the covers of every gossip magazine on the news stand the next morning: Heartthrob Blaine Anderson: Confirmed to be Dating Young Starlet, Rachel Berry.
Ahhhhhh...please don't hate me!