Hola!
A massive thank you to my beta for being wonderful, especially with this chapter. I was lost so they took my hand and guided me. The story wouldn't have been able to carry on without them. Thank you Raynesake!
Chapter 5: If You Wanna Impress Me
"What did you do?" Tina huffed, looking up at Blaine with the most infuriated expression she could summon. Though in her current state, it was more mildly petulant than anything.
"What makes you think I did something?" He shot back, leaning against the bar, because really, what had he done?
"Well," she began, hopping on to the bar-stall. "He was completely fine with me earlier and then I suggested meeting you, and all of a sudden it was like I killed his cat or something."
He smiled to himself, swirling the clear drink in his hand. "Oh. Well, he may or may not have heard me receiving fellatio in the restroom."
"Blaine! Couldn't you have kept it in your pants for half an hour?" She scrutinized. It's not that she wasn't aware of what happened when he went out, or why a random guy on the street seemed too familiar with him. No, she was very aware. It's just that his blasé attitude about it, still surprised her.
"Excuse me?" He demurred."You said there were boys in here and they were. A cute boy with an even cuter mouth. You saw him."
"Yeah cute boys to take home and not to the 'Fuck-Box'." Tina playfully pushed him, before wondering aloud. "What happened to you Blaine? You weren't always this way." She paused, studying his face. When he just squinted out into the crowd, she sighed.
"Sometimes I wish I had the sweet little sixteen-year-old Blaine back. I miss him."
"Well, he's not coming back." He responded matter-of-factly.
"Why not? What happened Blainey days?"
He narrowed his eyes at her, incredulously, before quickly downing his drink. "You know why. Besides it's just not what guys like me do." He declared as if it were a well-worn mantra, before pushing himself from the bar and into the music.
"What do you mean 'guys like me'?" Tina called, but he had already disappeared.
Blaine felt the music around him. This was the best part. Not the guys or the attention. This. Letting go and allowing the music to take over. Feeling the beat surge under his skin, transporting him somewhere beyond his own limitations. There were not many things that allowed him this escape. The only thing that came remotely close, was sex.
So, he had sex. Lots and lots of sex. Hooking up with random guys was the usual thing for him. He had been doing it for years, ever since his senior year of high school. It had been fun, sneaking around with the straight jock, while his girlfriend had no idea. And now at twenty-three, not much has really changed.
Tina budged herself into the crowd, combing through the horde of dancing figures. Usually she would drop this subject, knowing how touchy Blaine got but with the amount of Dutch courage she gained, she wanted answers. And when she wanted answers, she got them.
"What did you mean guys like you?!" She yelled over the thump, thump, thump!
"Guys like me don't take guys home for a blow job when there's a perfectly good, albeit dirty, restroom stall available." Blaine matched, trying to avoid the interrogation.
"Or the Fuck-box." She sneered. "Thanks for the warning by the way."
Blaine stilled them both at her statement. "Did something happen while I was…?"
"Let's just say, I almost joined the gay team and no, I do not want to talk about it."
Blaine eyed her up, checking to make sure nothing serious happened. She was giggling adorably, the way she did every time something replayed, over and over in her head. She's okay, he concluded, feeling relief before expressing his inner thoughts.
"Anyway, pretty boy might be hot as hell but he's a pompous, judgemental ass. Did you hear what he said to me?!"
"I did. And it was hil-a-rious."
"He's an asshole."
"Well, don't you like those?" she asked cheekily.
"Yeah open and expecting, not in my face." He remarked thoughtlessly. It wasn't until he caught her leering up at him with fierce delight, that he registered how that sounded.
"With attitude!" He rushed, "Notinmyfacewithattitude! Stop looking at me like that! You are so annoying when you're drunk."
Laughter ripped deep within her before she hauled them over back to the bar demanding they needed more drinks. The bartender came over and Blaine ordered two shots before pulling out his wallet.
"No! wait! Let me." Tina shouted over-enthusiastically, pulling out a lanyard tucked inside her top. Blaine reached for it, noticing the 'half price off all drinks 'till 3a.m!'
"Where the hell did you get this?!"
Tina clinked her shot glass against Blaine's, before dragging him towards the exit.
"The devil in the red dress."
They finally settled in the Blue Bar. It was the best area of the club, with a big enough dance floor and tables to socialize. Not to mention the Top 40 playlist that regularly got played. Blaine's favourite.
For the next round, Blaine opted for the 'best drink ever!' according to Tina. It was a cocktail of some sort. He didn't really care what it was, as long as it had at least 5% or more alcohol.
He raised the glass to take a sip and caught a familiar scent. Smiling to himself, he glanced around searching, unaware of Tina's glare fixed on him.
"Are you looking for Kurt?" She questioned, knowingly.
"Who?"
"Pretty Boy." She amended, "Are you looking for Pretty Boy?"
He locked eyes with her, watching her amused expression, no doubt because of his questioning one. With his eyebrow arched, he asked: "You're on first name basis?"
"Well, I'm not the one that wants to fuck him, am I?" Tina shrugs, smiling.
Blaine scoffed, leaning his elbows against the bar. He didn't actually care about Pretty boy – oh, sorry, Kurt – he didn't care about Kurt anymore; he was just curious to see whether he actually had fun. He seemed like a party pooper. Like the type of guy to turn his nose up at anyone who wanted to have a good time. Who cares if he was hot? He was a judgemental snob and Blaine did not care for him.
A familiar four chord strum started playing out of the speakers, followed by a high hat and synth, causing Tina to squeal with pleasure and once again latch on to Blaine, pushing to the center of the dance floor. He couldn't help but join in as she started jumping around, the rhythm taking over both of them. This was the song of their childhood, and a reminder of Tina's ill-fated crush on Blaine, back when they were teenagers.
You are the girl, that I've been dreaming of, ever since I was a little girl.
You are the girl, that I've been dreaming of, ever since I was a little girl.
One,
I'm biting my tongue
Two,
He's kissin' on you
Three,
Oh, why can't you see?
One! Two! Three! Four!
They took turns shouting out the lyrics. As the song progressed, the dancefloor became theirs. People moved out the way to watch the duo and neither of them seemed to mind. They both loved performing. To a crowd, for themselves, on a stage, it didn't matter. This was a thing about their friendship, they were both goofy and didn't care if they looked silly.
As they continued to dance, shaking their entire bodies along, Blaine took this opportunity to start pulling people in to dance with them.
'Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance!'
Before they knew it, they were surrounded again. As they continued their enjoyment, someone grabbed both their hands. Santana. She looked at them and smiled before dancing at their side, laughing, singing along, shimmying.
Blaine looked around again aimlessly, stopping when he caught a set of magnetic blue eyes transfixed on him from the bar. There was a gentle smile on Kurt's lips but as soon as he realised he had been caught, it disappeared. Blaine wasn't exactly sure why he caused that reaction in Kurt, but he was intrigued to find out.
Once the song had finished and morphed into something else, Blaine made his way to the bar, leaving Tina and Santana at the center.
"Fancy seeing you here?" He teased, watching as Kurt shook his head.
"Is that the only line you got?"
"Well, kinda…but if it works, why change it?"
Kurt stared at him. Really stared. Causing Blaine to rub at his neck from the discomfort. "Let me guess," He began, eyes full of accusation. "You just have all the boys falling at your feet, don't you?" When Blaine didn't respond straight away, he huffed and muttered something inaudible under his breath.
"What is your actual problem with me?!" Blaine seethed; he was starting to feel his own indignation over the way Kurt was talking to him. Sure, he can take banter, he can even take insults, but thinking you're better than everyone else purely based on your choices, was something he wasn't okay with.
"I don't have a problem with you." Kurt turned back to the bar and ordered another drink.
"Bullshit." Blaine stated, plainly. "Is it because you want to fuck me, and you hate that you're attracted to a $14.80 whore?" If Kurt wanted to be a dick, then Blaine could play him at his own game.
Kurt laughed then. It was over the top and they both knew it. "You wish."
Blaine leaned close to Kurt, pressing their shoulders together. It was necessary for him to say the next few words without any misunderstanding.
"Actually, Kurt. I don't. I just wish you could see past your own prejudice."
Kurt felt his eyes widen and his lips slightly part. Logically, he knew that Tina obviously told him his name, but that didn't stop Kurt from feeling blindsided. It also didn't stop him from noticing the bite in the way his name was said and he didn't like it.
"Do you think," Blaine continued, "That I'm going to lose sleep over one high nosed, judgemental ass who would rather spite himself, than have a good time?"
"And by having a good time, you mean sex." Kurt remarked, tapping his fingers anxiously on the bar.
"Hey, at this rate I'd take a smile that lasts longer than half a second. Or even a dance. Do you even dance? Or is your foot so far up your backside, all you can do is hop around?"
Kurt frowned slightly, his eyebrows creasing at the harsh statement. It was one thing to have your best friend say things like that to you, but it was something completely different coming from some random guy in a club.
"You hate my life choices – you hate what I do with my life but yet your best friend is pretty much the female version of me." Blaine pointed towards their friends. Tina was dancing with a small group, while Santana was busy making out with a faceless woman. "How do you think she feels when you say shit like that? Or don't you care 'cause you only have her around to feel better about yourself? How can you be okay with her, but despise me?"
"She's not trying to use me for sex!" Kurt protested, feeling the need to justify himself.
"Oh, so you think I'm some sort of predator, do you? Well guess what pretty-boy, you're not my type." That was a lie, Kurt was very much Blaine's type.
Kurt's demeanor changed then, regaining his confidence. "Your lying. I saw the way you were looking at me in the bathroom."
"Judgmental bitch is not my thing." Blaine spat. "Nor is a prude."
There was a painful silence between them, neither of them knowing where to go from here but neither wanting to stand down.
"I'm not a prude." Kurt huffed out eventually, tired of the name-calling. "And yes, I can dance." He pushed himself from the bar and strutted into the dance floor. He looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow challengingly. "Well, are you coming?"
Blaine stood there for a moment without saying a word. He wasn't going to give Kurt the satisfaction of obedience by following along after him. No, he was going to find someone else to focus on.
But as he swept the crowd looking for anyone to entertain him, he found his eye gravitating towards Kurt. His head was tilted back, his arms running all over his body. Blaine was mesmerized by the way Kurt was moving and felt his body burn with arousal. Surely only girls moved their hips like that?
He pulled at his crotch as his jeans got tighter. Kurt wasn't holding back. With his hips swaying side -to-side so seductively, Blaine was certain it was his mating call. If Kurt was trying to prove he wasn't a prude, he was doing a bang-up job.
Kurt opened his eyes, anchoring Blaine's attention. He smiled, flickering his finger toward Blaine in a come-hither movement, echoing his previous challenge. Well, Blaine couldn't ignore it this time.
He edged through the dancefloor until he was close to Kurt and kept his distance. He may have been keen, but he wasn't disrespectful.
"You call that dancing?" Kurt screamed above the music as it began to change. Prince! How was Blaine not meant to grind up against Kurt when Prince was playing?
Blaine's eyes fluttered shut, preparing to inch closer when he felt something grazing against his hip. It was Kurt rolling his ass against his front, coaxing out his erection with the circular motion. Blaine placed his hands on Kurt's hips, flushing them together and arched up to breathe against Kurt's ear.
He rubbed his nose up and down the margin of Kurt's hairline, God! He smelt good, how could he smell so good when everyone was sweaty and gross? Kurt grabbed Blaine's hands and pressed them around his chest so Blaine could feel how his chest rose up and down, how his heart was racing faster than the music. Why were there so many layers between them?
Blaine licked at Kurt's neck, unable to control himself. "See, this is what I wanted to do to you in the restroom."
He felt the moment Kurt tensed in front of him and snapped his eyes shut, knowing he just ruined whatever intense moment they were having. Blaine chastised himself internally, he just had to open his big mouth, didn't he?
Kurt paused, turning around with a scowl. "This is dancing, that is it." Kurt fumed but looked flustered. So flustered. There was something in his eyes that Blaine hadn't seen in them yet. Something that made him desperately want to find out more about Kurt. He rubbed at his palm, feeling the memory of Kurt's heartbeat against it.
"Sorry, I…" Blaine started, not realising Kurt had already stormed away, no doubt about to bitch to Santana, or worse Tina, about what horrible company he was. Well, he wasn't going to stick around for another Tina lecture.
I'm imagining the Prince song was 'Kiss', because 1) Its a song you simply cannot not dance too, and 2) everyone needs to be reminded of the original and not the Glee version.
Thank you for reading!
See you next week.