(Author's note: club dance mix coming next chapter! Also, check out pictures of the club; just Google "masque dayton" and you'll see what they see.)
The line was halfway around the block by the time they reached the club, but Kurt didn't seem upset. He danced ahead, up the line, and back again, like an excited puppy. "I feel like I'm entering a sacred chapel or a Madonna concert or something," he effused, clapping his hands together. "How long do we have to wait?"
"They're just getting wristbands on everybody coming in," Puck said, leaning on the brick city wall. "Everybody under 18 gets one color, under 21 another."
Puck saw several regulars mixed in with the excited high school kids. There were a few girls in the crowd, but most of them were boys. Some were in nervous couples, holding hands or with a cautious arm around each other. This was probably the only place they'd ever been able to be themselves, Puck thought, and looked at Kurt. It was too bad Blaine was out of town. Kurt deserved that, too.
A drag queen wearing four-inch neon pink platform heels and a miniskirt that rivaled Santana's shortest sauntered up the line, passing out glow bracelets to enthusiastic patrons. "You can never be too bright or too beautiful," she cooed to Kurt, who happily accepted a blue bracelet. She looked Finn up and down and nodded appreciatively, her earrings bobbing. "Mmm, I love a boy tall enough for me to look in the eye – and you are one fine boy."
"Uh, thanks," he said, grinning uncertainly, and took a red bracelet.
"How about some fairy dust for you and your friends?" She took out a sprinkle container of glitter and waved it around, leaving a trail of sparkles in its wake. Kurt darted under the shower of sparkles and caught them in his hair, laughing. The drag queen turned to Puck.
"And you – hey, Jason!" She cocked her head, putting a manicured finger on his chest. "I didn't recognize you in this get-up. Is this work or play?"
"Play," he said, with a smile, ignoring the puzzled look from Finn and the speculative one from Kurt. "Wanda, these are my friends from home. We, uh, went to high school together."
"Charmed," simpered Wanda, holding out a hand to Kurt, who held it with delight and gave her a little bow. "Any friend of Jason's. Enjoy your night."
"Thanks," said Kurt, eyes bright. He raised a meaningful eyebrow at Puck, who sighed and took out his fake ID.
"Jason," he said, handing it to Kurt. Kurt accepted the card, looked at it, looked back at Puck, and nodded thoughtfully. He passed it to Finn, who was frowning and looking after Wanda.
"Okay," Finn said slowly. "I get it. But how –" He stopped.
"Jason!" squealed a voice, and suddenly Puck was being hugged by a tan, blonde boy in tight denim shorts, a blue tank top and cowboy boots. His biceps flexed as he held on to Puck's arm and flashed him a dazzling white smile. "Hi," he said to Finn and Kurt, clearly as an afterthought, then turned back to Puck. "God, you look so respectable!"
"I know, right?" Puck said, laughing. "Could I pass for college bound?"
The boy held him out at arm's length and checked him out, nodding. "Possibly," he said. "Business or pre-law, if you put on a tie."
"I wonder what kind of tips that would get me," Puck pondered, stroking the front of his shirt.
"Mmmm," said the boy, pursing his lips. "Probably not the type of johns you really want as regulars. They might try to take you home to Mommy."
"Or Daddy," Puck said, slyly, and the boy shrieked with laughter. He slipped an arm around Puck's waist. Finn looked at Kurt and cleared his throat uncomfortably, but the boy ignored him.
"So what are you doing here on your night off?" he asked. "Seems like you get enough of this place without coming back for more."
"These are some friends from high school," Puck said easily, not meeting Finn's eyes. "Finn, Kurt, this is David. He dances here on weekends and bartends during the week."
"Hi," said Kurt, holding out a hand, and David took it, holding it a fraction of a second longer than was appropriate. Kurt's smile widened, and David glanced up at Finn, considering.
"They're brothers," Puck said softly, and then, as David's eyes returned to rest on Kurt, added, "and underage."
"Doesn't hurt to look," pouted David. He rustled his hand in the apron he wore around his waist and pulled out a few slips of paper and some pens. "Here, you guys can sign up for the raffle. We're giving away some killer door prizes. Just write your first name and Jason's name – that'll be good enough."
"Thanks," said Kurt, accepting a slip and a pen. As he leaned on the side of the building to write his name, David blatantly checked out his ass. Finn coughed and moved in to stand in his line of sight, reaching out to grab a pen from David's hand. David met Finn's eyes in a challenge, but Finn stayed where he was, and after one more tense moment, David acquiesced.
After taking the slips from the three boys, David touched Kurt's arm. "Save me a dance, okay?"
Kurt watched him walk away with a delighted smile. He looked up at Finn, who shook his head at Kurt. "What?"
"You'd better watch out tonight," said Puck. "You're a TT. Tasty treat," he clarified, at Kurt's unspoken query. "And there's a lot of guys who'd like you for a snack."
"I don't plan on cheating on Blaine," Kurt said airily. "But, like he said, it doesn't hurt to look. Or dance."
"Or get groped by over-friendly twink fans?" Puck looked pointedly at Kurt, who shrugged, grinning.
"Twink?" said Finn, the first word he'd uttered in several minutes.
"Little nutritional value, sweet to the taste and cream-filled," Puck said obligingly, and Kurt smothered a shocked laugh. Finn turned red and looked at the sidewalk. "No offense to you, Kurt. It's a common term for certain young gay guys."
"Kurt… I told Dad I'd watch out for you," Finn said. "I don't really think he'd want you to fool around with some… dancer." Puck flinched at the way Finn said dancer, like he might say racist or dog shit.
Kurt looked at Puck as they shuffled forward in line. "He wouldn't do anything… inappropriate, would he?"
"David's a little grabby, but he'd listen to no, especially from a kid who could lose him his job," Puck said. "You're safe with him."
"You know him pretty well?" Finn asked coolly.
Puck steeled himself and met Finn's eyes. They were wary, and Puck could see hurt and confusion there. It made something in his chest ache. He held Finn's gaze long enough to reply, "We've worked together for almost a year. He's all right."
Now they were in the dim foyer, defining the space between the public sidewalk and the private club. Puck's ears were saturated by the familiar throbbing bass beat of house music. "IDs," grunted the bouncer, stamping their hands with UV-sensitive ink. "Hey, Jason."
Finn pulled his ID from his back pocket and passed it to the bouncer without taking his focus away from Puck. "And what… exactly… have you been doing here for the past year?" he said, loud enough to be heard over the music, but in a carefully controlled voice that Puck knew meant Finn was close to losing it.
"Finn," Kurt said.
"Because yesterday I was sure you'd never been to this club before," continued Finn, accepting the green band marked UNDER 18 the bouncer fastened around his wrist. "But now it seems pretty clear you have been here. A lot."
"Finn," Kurt said again.
"And," Finn said, his tone strained, "everyone seems to know who you are. Or at least, they know who you say you are. But this Jason guy… he sure doesn't sound, or look, or act, or even have the same name as the guy I thought was my best friend."
"Finn!" Kurt said for the third time.
"What?" Finn snapped, looking at him at last. Kurt was standing next to a poster with a figure of a shirtless dancer artfully astride a pole, head thrown back, face in shadow. He jerked a thumb at the picture with an exasperated expression.
Finn's eyes widened as he took in Puck's image on the poster, then narrowed again as he turned back to Puck. His face was bewildered, almost wild with betrayal.
"Who the fuck are you?" Finn hissed, throwing up his hands.
Puck swallowed and took a breath. "Finn."
Finn shook his head, lowering his hands slowly, and backed away from Puck, then stormed off into the club. Kurt watched him go with wide eyes. Puck shook his head.
"He gonna be a problem, Jason?" asked the bouncer.
"No," Puck sighed. "That went about how I expected." He looked at Kurt. "I'm sorry, Kurt. I didn't want to wreck your night."
Kurt's face shifted from regret to resolve. "It's okay. I'm not going to let Finn's bad mood get in my way." He glanced at Puck and bounced on his toes. "So… Jason… you want to dance?"
Puck considered Kurt for a moment, then grinned. "C'mon. Let me get you a drink."