Day 10 – Your Man by Josh Turner

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Kurt complained, not for the first time.

Mercedes shushed him and tugged him by the arm through the door. "I told you, Sam invited me, and I didn't want to come alone. Let's go find table with a good view of the stage," she said, leading him across the floor of the already crowded bar.

"Well, that's great, but why didn't you ask Rachel? Country-Western night really isn't my thing, you know."

Mercedes laughed and gave him a once over. "You sure about that? Because you're rocking the look pretty hard."

Kurt smoothed down his fitted plaid shirt. His tight blue jeans were tucked into a pair of cowboy boots that had an elaborate swirl on the sides. "Kurt Hummel always dresses for the occasion," he drawled, claiming a chair at what appeared to be the last table and warding off some Dolly Parton wannabe with a glare.

"True, true," Mercedes agreed, scooting the other chair over to sit next to him and face the stage. "Anyway, I brought you because I thought you'd have fun," she said, answering his earlier question. "You haven't been out in ages."

"I've been out," Kurt argued weakly. "Fine," he admitted when Mercedes looked at him pointedly. "It's been a while. I'm not sure this would have been my first choice for my grand return to society," he mused, giving the place a less-than-impressed sweeping glance, "but I'm with you, so that's something." Mercedes smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek. "So," Kurt began, leaning an elbow on the table and resting his chin upon his hand, "tell me about Sam!"

xoxoxo

"I cannot believe I let you talk me into this," Blaine groaned, shoving his foot into a boot that he was sure was a half-size too small. "You don't get to book gigs for us on your own anymore."

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," Sam defended, buttoning up his shirt as he stood before a full-length mirror. He tilted his head this way and that, then undid the top three buttons. "You've been in a funk ever since," he paused, catching Blaine's eye in the mirror, "ever since you broke up with 'You Know Who.' The best way to get out of a funk is to do something new, dude. Or someone," he added with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"Sam," Blaine sighed tiredly.

"Okay, okay," Sam put his hands up in surrender. He'd been trying to get Blaine out for months, and he didn't want to chase him back to the apartment and his sweatpants by pushing too hard. "Just do it for me, okay? I invited Mercedes to come hear us tonight."

"Oh, really?" Blaine teased. "It's about time. She's all you've talked about for the past couple of weeks." Blaine stood and went over to the mirror, bumping Sam aside to claim some mirror for himself and adjust his bolo tie. "Good for you, Sam."

"A bolo tie?" Sam side-eyed his reflection.

"I figured a bowtie wouldn't be right," Blaine explained before realizing Sam was messing with him. "Shut up and let's go," he laughed, grabbing his guitar and heading towards the stage.

xoxoxo

Their set was going well, if the enthusiastic applause from the crowd was anything to go by. Mercedes couldn't take her eyes off of Sam, and the blonde singer certainly sent his fair share of heated glances her way, too. Kurt barely noticed, though, his own attentions being captured by Sam's singing partner. The white Western-style shirt with turquoise embroidery was one Kurt likely would have found gauche, but on Blaine (he'd introduced himself at the beginning of their show), it worked. Kurt was pretty sure this guy could wear a trash bag like a designer original.

And as for his voice? Kurt may not have known any of the songs, but Blaine's voice was perfect. Oh, wait, that perfect voice was speaking…

"Thanks again, ladies and gents, for putting up with me and my friend here tonight," he joked. "Before we go on break, I'm going to do one more song by special request."

Blaine nudged Sam with his guitar to catch his attention, jerking his head towards Mercedes and mouthing the word "go." Sam's eyes went wide, but he quickly slipped the guitar strap over his head and set the instrument down, hopping off the stage. He approached the table and held out his hand. "Um, would you like to dance?" he asked nervously.

Mercedes giggled – actually giggled, and Kurt would mock her for that later – then took Sam's hand and followed him to the small dance floor where several other couples had been taking advantage of the music.

Blaine smiled at the couple from his place in the spotlight. "This one's for all you lovers out there," he announced. Kurt's breath caught in his throat when Blaine locked eyes with him as he started to play.

Baby lock the door and turn the lights down low
Put some music on that's soft and slow
Baby we ain't got no place to go
I hope you understand

I've been thinking 'bout this all day long
Never felt a feeling quite this strong
I can't believe how much it turns me on
Just to be your man

xoxoxo

Kurt was flabbergasted. Was this stranger – this gorgeous stranger, to be sure, but still – really singing a song about, well, that, to him? He wasn't sure if it was wildly inappropriate or really hot. Or both.

Blaine brought the song to a close with an appropriate guitar flourish, taking his bow at the applause he received. "We'll be back in a bit. Don't y'all go nowhere," he added with an exaggerated twang and a wink in Kurt's direction.

Sam brought Mercedes back to the table. They stopped a few feet away, holding hands and talking closely, reluctant to part. As happy as Kurt was for his friend, he suddenly felt very much the third wheel. He was about to pull Mercedes aside for a moment to ask her privately if she wanted him to get lost, when he heard a warm voice beside him. "Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

Kurt turned and lifted his eyes to see Blaine standing with his hand on the back of Mercedes' vacant chair. He felt his cheeks flush and hoped the bar lighting was dim enough to disguise it. "Uh, no, not at the moment," he answered, gesturing for Blaine to sit.

A waitress stopped by and took their drink orders, then they were alone again. "I'm Blaine," the singer introduced, offering his hand.

"Kurt," he returned, shaking his hand. "You guys were great up there," he complimented.

"Oh! Thank you," Blaine replied sincerely. "Country isn't really my wheelhouse, but Sam wanted to try it, so," he shrugged, taking a sip of his drink.

"I guess you're a natural then." Kurt sipped his own drink, desperately trying to calm the nerves that were bubbling up. It had clearly been too long since he'd flirted with a cute guy if he was this bad at it. All he had to do was not say anything stupid. "So, do you always sing sex songs to strangers?" he blurted.

Oh.

Blaine spluttered as he nearly choked on his drink. Kurt babbled an incoherent string of apologies, simultaneously shoving stacks of napkins at Blaine and patting him on the back to stop him from coughing. After a few seconds, Blaine regained his composure and waved a hand to calm Kurt.

"Dude, he's got you there." The voice from behind Kurt startled him, and he jumped in his seat. Sam and Mercedes came around, pulling two chairs over from another table.

"I'm sorry, what?" Kurt asked, confused.

"Well, there was this one time in high school. Blaine had a crush on this guy at The Gap, and…"

"Sam!" Blaine interrupted fiercely, reaching across the table and clutching Sam's arm.

"All right, all right. I'll shut up," Sam laughed, prying Blaine's fingers from his forearm. He leaned towards Kurt and stage-whispered, "I'll totally tell you later."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Kurt, meet my former best friend and ex-singing partner, Sam Evans," he said drily.

"Pleasure," Kurt nodded in Sam's direction, barely holding back a chuckle. "And this is my good friend and diva extraordinaire, Miss Mercedes Jones."

The group chatted a while over drinks until Sam and Blaine had to go back on stage for their next set.

"It's been so nice meeting you, Kurt," Blaine said, lightly taking Kurt's hand between both of his own. "I hope you'll stay around for our second set? I'd like to talk to you some more – maybe walk you home?"

Kurt couldn't help but sing his response, "Baby, we ain't got no place to go."

As soon as Kurt and Mercedes were alone again, she leaned over and whispered, "So I take it you're a country fan now?"

"Yee haw," Kurt whispered back, sending them both into a fit of giggles.

A/N: I read the lyrics and was like, "No! A s-e-x-y song! I can't write that!" Next thing I knew, Blaine was singing an inappropriate serenade and Kurt was somewhere between besotted and appalled. The rest is history.